Patrick Stump Imagines 2

Wanna Die

A/N: Another (I guess) sad imagine. Inspired by L.I.F.T's song WANNA DIE.

TRIGGER WARNING: SELF-HARM, SUICIDE MENTION

Patrick is sitting on the edge of his bed, his legs bouncing up and down. He's biting his nails as he's desperately waiting for the person he's calling to answer.

"Come on. Come on," He's repeating under his breath.

But the person doesn't pick up, "Fuck," He lets out in frustration as he reaches the voicemail and ends the call. He anxiously plays with the phone in his hands as he looks down at his wrists. He stares at the scars. The scars she made him do to himself. He's thinking about what she could be doing to herself right now.

He stands up and starts walking to his front door, picking up his car keys on the way. He gets in his car and starts driving.

Minutes later, he stops in front of her house. He gets out of his car and runs to the front door. He pounds on the door until someone opens it.

"Oh god," He sighs in relief as he sees her on the other side of the threshold. He takes her in his arms and places his hand on the back of her head.

"What's up with you?" She says in an annoyed tone.

Patrick steps out of the embrace and looks at her in the eyes, "I-I just thought-"

"I'm fine," She retorts and starts closing the door on him.

He puts his hand out to stop the door before she can close it, "No you're not," He lets himself in and grabs her wrist, "I'm so done with your lies. You're not fine. You're miserable. And you're taking me down with you,"

"I'm sorry," She says under her breath, not daring to look him in the eyes.

"Do you think your apologies are just gonna erase everything?" He pulls his sleeves up, "These scars?" He takes a step forward and grabs her wrist again, "And these?" He stares at her, waiting for an answer, but she doesn't open her mouth and keeps her glare on the ground. He sighs, looking down as well.

"I just wanna die," She chokes up in tears, "Yeah, I'm miserable, because I hate everything. This stupid life is just a nightmare to me."

He looks at her with tears in his eyes, "And I don't wanna die alone. You're the only thing I have left. I don't wanna lose you. You don't know how hard it is for me when I try to call you but you don't pick up your telephone," He takes a deep breath as a few tears roll down his cheeks, "I'd do anything for you, you know that. You made me addicted to the pain."

She looks up at him with her red and puffy eyes, mascara staining her pink cheeks.

"So if you wanna die," He takes her wrist and starts walking to the bathroom, "I'm gonna die with you. Let's just fucking overdose."

She doesn't try to push him away when he almost shoves her into the bathroom. She doesn't try to stop him when he starts filling up the bathtub.

She takes razor blades from the edge of the sink and sits in the tub as he looks into the cabinet for bottles of pills. He founds a few and opens one of them, shoving half of its content into his mouth and swallowing it. He throws one bottle at her and she does the same.

He turns away from the mirror to see her slitting her wrists open with a razor blade. His eyes widen in sudden realization. He doesn't want that.

Blood is flowing out of the cuts really fast.

He runs to the tub and falls on his knees next to her, "Fuck no," He tries to pick her up but red water is splashing on him, covering him in red, he can't take a hold of her, "Fuck," He screams and dips his arm in the water to drain the tub.

He stands up quickly and runs to the sink, slamming his wrist on the mirror and shattering it. Blood now dripping down his hand.

His breathing is getting heavier. He can't think straight. The pills are starting to work.

He leans down in the sink and puts two fingers in his throat, pushing them as far as he can until he makes himself gag and throw up. His puking up the poison he swallowed.

He dizzily turns around and walks to the tub. He makes her throw up the same way he just did to himself. He grabs her lamp body by her clothes and pulls her out of the tub. He misses falling a few times because of the slippery and covered in bloody water tiled floor.

He manages to get her in the backseat of his car.

"I'm sorry," She croaks out just above a whisper.

He starts driving and she reaches out to him. She grabs his arm, pushes herself up and puts her hand on his throat, pressing on his windpipe.

"Fuck," He chokes out, starting to suffocate.

She's holding his neck with her arm, pressing it against the seat.

"What the fu-," He reaches for her arm and grabs it, "Let go."

"I just wanna die," She screams in tears.

He keeps his eyes lock on the road, trying his best to block out the effects of the pills already in his system. He blindly tries to push her away from him, to make the chokehold stop. He hit her hard without knowing. She stumbles back, freeing him, but hits her head on the window.

He catches his breath and keeps on driving, "We're getting close," He says as he quickly glances at her. He sees her laying on the backseat, blood dripping from her face and wrists. He glances a second time, this time longer, realizing his mistake, "Fuck, no," He curses under his breath.

He looks back at the road and sees a car right in front of him. He turns the wheel, but he's coming up too fast. It's too late.