Patrick Stump Imagines

Joetrick/Peterick - G.I.N.A.S.F.S.

A/N: So I know I got a request/suggestion for an Elistrick imagine but I don't have any inspiration for it yet.

Eras: Joetrick - 2005
           Peterick - 2008

Warning: mention of suicide.

Patrick's POV

I paced in front of my bed in the middle of the night, taking quick glances at the man lying in it. His bare chest was rising up and down with each breath he took as he was sleeping peacefully, unaware that I was up. My cheeks were soaked with all the tears I shed, and my lips were trembling as more tears formed in my red and puffy eyes.

I sat at the end of the bed as I stared at the phone in my hands. I unlocked it, the screen now illuminating my tears stained face in the dark of my room. I scrolled down my camera roll until I reached some of the oldest pictures I took. The tears that I desperately tried to hold back rolled down my cheeks as I watched those pictures of the baby blue-eyed man that I used to call my boyfriend.

I admired the pictures for what felt like hours, analyzing every detail of them. I scrolled past a few pictures of he and I kissing. A small smile appeared on my face as I remembered those moments as if they took place yesterday. I scrolled a bit more and stopped at on in particular. He was wearing a gray t-shirt that was too big for him and fitted me perfectly at the time, but it was now a bit too short.

I gripped the collar of this t-shirt that I was wearing and brought it closer to my face, as if I was trying to smell his scent that was long gone. I looked around the room and my eyes fell on his old pair of shoes that I kept and still wore every day. One was by the door and the other next to the bed, where I must have thrown them earlier that night when I hurriedly took off my clothes and got into bed with the wide-eyed browns.

I looked down, staring at my bare feet. It would have just taken a second for it to end. For everything to end. But I waited. I waited for him. And he came.

I looked over my shoulder as I heard the roof's door open behind me. He stopped at the threshold, his facial expression suddenly changing to one of pure fear, and sadness.

"Patrick," He said just above a whisper, "Just...just get away from the edge."

I shook my head and moved a bit closer to the edge of the building.

"Please no!" He yelled as he stepped closer to me. He slowly walked toward me and ran when he was just a feet away. He took me in his arms and stepped away from the edge.

I burst into tears in his arms as he held me close to his chest "How did you know I was here?"

"I wanted to talk to you, but you weren't in your room." He calmly said, rubbing my back, "I know you like to gaze at the stars."

I sniffed and chuckled. I hugged him tighter, pressing my wet cheeks against his gray t-shirt.

"But I didn't know you wanted to do this," He pulled out of the embrace and looked me in the eyes with his beautiful blue ones, "What's wrong, Patrick?"

"You. Me. Everything." I said as I stepped away.

"Me?" He looked at me, confused but also hurt.

"Yeah, you. You little perfect bastard." I started as tears blurred my vision, "I love you. But I know I'm not supposed to. You-" I was cut short by his lips pressed close to mine.

"I love you too," He whispered against my lips.

"But you're..." I trailed off, my eyes wide open in surprise.

"I'm not straight," He laughed, causing me to smile. We looked into each other's eyes for a moment until he broke the silence, "I noticed that you were depressed. But I didn't know it was that bad. I promise that I will always be there for you. Cross my heart..."

The thing is, I never noticed he was depressed. That is until I found him lying lifeless on our bathroom's floor, an empty bottle of pills in his right hand.

I felt the bed shift behind me but didn't bother to glance over my shoulders. Arms wrapped around my torso and lips lingered on the skin of my neck.

"What are you doing up that late?" The brown-eyed man whispered.

"I-I couldn't sleep," I lied as I tried to hide the trembling of my voice.

"You miss him, right?" I didn't have to talk for him to know the answer, "I'm sorry I can't be him." He said and stood up.

I grabbed his hand, "It's not your fault, Pete. It's all mine."

He shook his head as if to tell me it wasn't my fault.

"I'm sorry," I started, my voice shaking, "I know I'm supposed to love you, but-"

"But I'll just never be him," He cut me off, "It's okay, you need time." We stayed there in silence for a few minutes and he spoke up, "I guess I'll just leave. Will you be okay alone?"

I nodded, "Yeah," No.

He picked up his clothes and quickly got dressed as I just stared into space. He kissed my forehead, stroking my cheeks at the same time, and left my apartment.

I looked down at my phone once again and stared at that picture.

I loved everything about him. Even the things that I never knew he hated. I loved everything about him that hurt. He was all I ever wanted.

I looked back at my bedside and table and saw the two small bottles of pills that I take. One was for headaches and the other was to help me sleep. I crawled on the bed and sat next to my pillow.

I grabbed the two little bottles and stared at them.

I've already given up on myself twice, third time is the charm.