Patrick Stump Imagines

The Fighter

A/N: Inspired by the song The Fighter by The Fray.

The young man lay on the cold and humid ground, his mouth slightly opened and his eyes fixed on the gray clouds that passed in the sky. His damp dirty blonde hair stuck to his forehead. His breathing was slow like he wasn't breathing at all. It was silent, there wasn't even the sound of the wind.

"Please don't go." The shaky and crying voice of his girlfriend resonated in his head as flashes of the last time he saw her occupied his mind.

She held him close to her chest, crying in his arms, "Patrick, please. I-"

"I know," He cut her short, "I know, I know," He repeated, his voice trembling as he tried not to cry. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.

He pulled out of the embrace just a little bit and took off his gloves, wrapping them. He lifted the chin of his girlfriend with his bare fingers so she would look at him. Her eyes were already red from crying.

He heaved a shaky sigh, "Just this one last time. I swear you'll still be mine." He took her hands with his and placed the gloves in them.

She shook her head and unwrapped the gloves. She took his wrist and tried to put the glove back on his hand but he pulled away.

"No, keep them," He leaned closer to her and rested his forehead against hers, "I love you."

"I know," She chuckled sadly through her sobs. She pressed one last kiss to his trembling lips.

He pulled out of the embrace and looked back at the truck that was waiting for him (a GMC CCKW truck btw...it was used during WWII). He smiled sadly at her and started walking away but she held onto his hand. Patrick's hand slowly left her grip and she touched his fingertips for the last time.

He took a last glance at her as he got into the vehicle and wiped his tears. He could see it in her eyes, somehow they both knew that he wouldn't come back home.

The vehicle drove away and she called out his name, causing one single tear to roll down Patrick's cheek.

The dirty blonde man lay on the ground. A man came running from his right. He bent over Patrick's weak and cold body and grabbed his shoulders, trying to lift him up, but it only caused him to choke out blood. The man's worried gaze traveled down the shaking body and his face fell as he saw a big red stained spot on his shirt. The bullet touched his liver. The man opened his mouth and spoke but Patrick couldn't hear a thing. The dirty blonde glanced at him before he started staring at the sky again, and whispered the name of his lover with his last breath.