Patrick Stump Imagines/One Shots

10 ~ In Sickness & In Health

I sat on the couch as I waited patiently for Patrick to come home. He'd had a long day at the recording studio. The band was just finishing up a few songs for the upcoming record. Before he left this morning, he promised we would go out for dinner tonight. It gave me a reason to roll out of bed early and get ready for the day.

Patrick was never hard to impress. He argued that I looked good in everything from sweats to dresses. Still, I felt the need to look good for this date. I showered, painted my face with makeup, and even shaved for him. I curled my hair and pulled on a tight, black dress. Sure, I'd originally planned to make him happy, but damn did I feel good.

I was ready at 5:00 and tried to busy myself with the tv, but I couldn't concentrate. I was giddy with excitement and couldn't keep my eyes away from the door.

Then 8:00 rolled around and he still wasn't home.

I'd given up. I kicked my heels off and slouched into the couch. I knew it wasn't his fault. I'd been with Patrick since the beginning of Fall Out Boy. The boys were putting their blood, sweat, and tears into their work, perfecting it until it was glossed with polish. They probably just lost track of time. Although, I couldn't help wondering if he forgot about me, if he was out at a bar, dreading the minute he had to come back home to see me.

Shortly after, the door opened and Patrick came in. Before, I imagined how this would go down. He'd smile and put his things aside and ask, "Are you ready?" I would approach him and he would say something sweet about my appearance. He would put an arm around me and we'd walk out into the night.

That's not quite how the night went down.

Patrick rushed in and out of the door. He tore his hat and his worn, leather jacket off and hung them the coat rack. As he was pulling off his shoes, he looked up at me, watching him from the couch. I could almost see the guilt in his tired, reddening eyes. I frowned and made my way towards him.

"I'm so... so sorry," he said and shook his head, "I didn't forget, I-I just-"

Gently, I put my hand on his arm and gave him a soft smile, "Hey... it's okay. I understand."

"God, I feel awful. You look wonderful and I kept you waiting," he said and stood back to look at me. "I tried to tell them I had plans, but everything was taking so long and..." Patrick turned away from me and closed his eyes tightly.

"Patrick..." I tried again.

"No, it's okay we can still go. Have you eaten yet? Let's go now," he walked into the bedroom.

I followed him inside, "Are you sure?"

He pulled a jacket and some black jeans from the closet and walked out towards the bathroom, "Yeah I'm sure. Start the car, it's freezing out there." He closed the door behind him.

I pressed my lips together and waited at the door for a minute before I walked away. I fixed myself up in the mirror while he was getting ready. The curls in my hair were starting to fall and frizz.

The lid to the toilet slammed and I heard Patrick vomit from the bathroom. I straightened up and slowly walked towards the door. The toilet flushed and he walked out with his nice clothes on.

His whole face was red. He wiped his lips on his hand and sighed, "Are you ready? Let's go."

"Patrick," I followed him to the front door and managed to stand in front of it before he could open it. He looked to the ground and avoided my eyes.

I put my hand on his forehead, "Patrick. You're burning up."

He shook his head, "No, I'm fine. It was just hot in the studio. Come on, we can get there before it closes." He put his hand on the handle.

"Patrick!" I shouted, just to get his attention. I instantly regretted it and softened up, "Honey, it's okay. You don't feel well. We can do this another day."

When he finally looked back up at me, there were tears in his eyes. I walked into his arms and hugged him tightly. He pressed his face into my shoulder and sobbed quietly.

He choked, "I just wanted to make it up to you."

My heart split into two and plummeted into my stomach. I held him tighter and ran my hand through his hair, "It's okay, Patrick."

I pulled back and looked at him. A trail of tears were falling from his cheeks. I took his hand and walked back into the bedroom with him.

He sat on the bed and took his jacket and shirt off, sniffling silently. I pulled out an old Fall Out Boy shirt from the closet and slid it over his head and onto his chest. I tossed some comfy pajama pants his way and left the room for him to continue changing.

Meanwhile, I undressed myself and changed into my pajamas. I wiped all traces of makeup from my face and grabbed a cold water bottle from the fridge.

When I walked back into the room, Patrick was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling with the covers pulled up to his chin. I set the water at his nightstand and turned off the light, "Why didn't you just tell me you didn't feel well?"

His eyes followed me as I walked around the bed and crawled in with him, "We've been talking about this for weeks. I haven't been around very often and I know you've were looking forward to tonight."

I frowned and planet a kiss on his head, "Patrick, we have all the time in the world. We'll go on plenty more dates as soon as you're feeling better."

He nodded and smiled a bit, "Okay."

"Okay," I repeated and smiled back. I scooted closer to him and he laid his head on my chest. I played with his hair until his breathing shallowed and he slowly started drifting off to sleep.

He held my hands with a stupid grin on his face. I giggled and held his ring in my shaking hands. There were tears in my eyes and I blinked to keep them from falling again. As I was sliding it onto his finger, I recited the lines I'd memorized by heart, "I take you, Patrick Martin Stumph, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."