Fall Out Boy Imagines and Preferences

Patrick Imagine #6 To Save Your Life

"Please," you prayed, something that you hadn't done in years. "Please let him live. He's so young. So many people care about him. Take me instead. Take away all our good times together. Take away all my memories, but please, let him live."

"(Y/N)?" A familiar voice called from behind you. It belonged to Pete Wentz, your fiancé's best friend. "You're still here? Come on, let's get you home."

"Amen," you whispered, and he wrapped his arm around you, and lead you out of the frigid hospital parking lot, and into his car.

Patrick had gotten in a car accident a few weeks ago, and he was in critical condition. The doctors were surprised that he had lasted as long as he did, and it would be a miracle if he survived. Everyone was upset, but nobody as much as you. You hardly slept, ate, or left the hospital since you found out. Andy, Joe and Pete each took turns making sure that you were okay.

"Listen, it's going to be okay," Pete turned to you, after pulling into your driveway. "Trick's strong like that."

"But what happens if it's not okay?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. Everything happens for a reason though. Just remember that."

"Thanks," you sniffed, wiping at your eyes.

"Not a problem. How about you try and get some sleep? I'll have Joe pick you up tomorrow." 

"Good idea. See you tomorrow then." He gave you a final wave before heading home.

You flopped down on your bed, not bothering to change out of the jeans and t-shirt of Patrick's you were wearing. The doctors said that you would need a miracle, and hopefully you would get one. Little did you know, a shooting star fell as you were making your wishes in the parking lot.

••••••••••

You woke up the next morning to the sound of your phone buzzing, and a warm, fuzzy feeling in your head. It wasn't exactly a headache, more of a dizzy feeling. You tried to shake it off as you swiped the screen to answer the call.

"Hello?" You mumbled sleepily.

"Hi, is this (Y/F/N)?" The woman on the other end asked.

"Yes it is. May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Doctor Mazza at the hospital. We're pleased to inform you that Patrick has made a miraculous recovery over night, and he's requesting to see you. You can stop by whenever's convenient for you."

"Patrick?" The name sounded familiar, but you couldn't put a face to the name.

"Yes, we'll see you later," and with that, the doctor hung up. As soon as you set your phone down, it buzzed again.

Joe: Already heard the news about Patrick. I'm picking you up in an hour.

With a sigh, you pulled yourself up, and staggered to the bathroom. You weren't sure who Patrick was, but you figured he must be important. As you were pouring shampoo into your hands, you noticed a shimmering on your finger; a ring. How odd, you had never seen it before.

"You look good," Joe said as you stepped into his car. "Did you actually shower this morning?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you've been pretty upset lately," he explained, backing out on to the main road. "You haven't been eating lately, let alone worrying about personal hygiene."

"What the hell are you taking about? And while we're asking questions, who in the world is Patrick?"

"Shit, did you hit your head or something?"

"No, of course not!"

"I'm taking you to the emergency room," he sighed, pulling into the appropriate parking section of the hospital.

"Why? I'm obviously fine."

"You're obviously not, if you can't even remember your fiancé."

"Fiancé?" You questioned as Joe dragged you inside.

"Hi, I think my friend has hit her head or something. She can't remember anything," he told a nurse.

"That's a lie! I just don't know who Patrick is. My fiancé, I guess, but I don't know anything else about him."

"It's alright, miss," the nurse said, sitting you down in a wheelchair. "We're just going to be running a few tests to see if you have a concussion."

"I didn't hit my head, and I don't have a concussion!" You tried to explain.

"I'm going to tell the guys," Joe mumbled before rushing off.

Great you rolled your eyes. Just fabulous.

••••••••••

"Hello Ms.(Y/L/N)!" A peppy blonde nurse smiled. You had spent the whole morning being poked and prodded at by various doctors and nurses.

"I don't have a concussion, do I?" You immediately asked.

"No, you don't," her smile wavered slightly. "In fact, we couldn't find anything wrong with you. You seem to remember everything but information on Patrick Stump. We want to run a few more tests before you go, but you have some people who would like to visit, if you're up for it."

"Send them in," you nodded. She disappeared, and a moment later, Andy, Joe and Pete, accompanied by an unfamiliar looking man stepped inside.

"(Y/N)," Andy gasped, wrapping you in a hug. "Thank God you're okay."

"Sorry I thought you were crazy," Joe smiled apologetically, hugging you.

"How're you holding up, kiddo?" Pete asked, doing the same as Andy and Joe.

"Alright," you sighed. Who you assumed was Patrick stood in the corner of the room, staring down at his shoes. "Do you guys mind giving us a minute?"

"Not at all," Andy nodded, ushering the guys outside.

"C'mere," you motioned for Patrick to pull a chair over, and he did. "Hi," you smiled. "I'm (Y/N), but in assuming you already know that."

"Yeah," he fiddled with his ring, not looking at you. "I'm Patrick, but you probably already know that too."

"Yup. Look, I'm not sure what happened, but I'm sorry. I know that I'm really important to you, and somewhere, deep down, I know you're important to me too. I just feel like we should hold off on this whole marriage thing for awhile." You slid off your ring, and placed it in his hand.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he attempted to hold back tears.

"I have an idea of what we should do until then though."

"What's that?" He sniffed, finally looking at you.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "I would like that."