Author's Note: This story is ancient (and terrible - honestly). Consider it archived.
I wrote this for a really close friend of mine, who is absolutely in love with Ratchet from "Ratchet & Clank".
The song is "Here Without You" by Three Doors Down.
Pierre rolled over, unable to sleep. He looked up at a picture of Ratchet, the closest one of many hung up on the wall above his bed and around the room. For a long time he'd hoped he could dream of Ratchet, but never once had it happened. The thought that tonight wouldn't be any different made Pierre remember how alone he was; it was the same feeling he felt every night before he fell asleep, without a hope.
A hundred days have made me older
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face
A thousand lies have made me colder
And I don't think I can look at this the same
But all the miles that separate
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face
He signed and reached up to the picture, touching Ratchet's cheek gently. The sound of his finger sliding on the paper was almost deafening amongst the silence that screamed in Pierre's lonely ears. Pierre knew that Ratchet wasn't real, he was from a game, and it would never be possible for anything to actually happen. He was a fool for rejecting fine gentlemen from reality – but one can't help who they fall in love with, or so he'd been told.
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight it's only you and me, yeah
Rolling over again, Pierre tried to go to sleep again. It was past midnight, and had been trying to sleep without any luck for the last couple of hours. Ratchet ... Ratchet was his one and only, and he knew he was in for a life of lonliness and depression by dedicating himself to the fictional Lombax, but he couldn't help himself. If he tried to think of someone else in that way, he'd find himself angry; angry at himself for – dare he say it – cheating on Ratchet. It was almost a curse, loving the orange Lombax, and knowing that he could never truly love somebody else.
The miles just keep rollin'
As the people leave their way to say hello
I've heard this life is overrated
But I hope that it gets better as we go, oh yeah yeah
He clenched his eyes shut, realising that they were open again, staring across the room to another picture of Ratchet. He didn't understand – why was it that something so important to him, somebody who took up almost all of his thoughts, never appeared to him in dreams? How was it that Ratchet eluded him? Was it that he wasn't special enough? A tear rose to meet the midnight air from the depths of Pierre's heart when the thought occurred to him that Ratchet might not be as important to him as he thought. It had to be the only reason that he never dreamed of Ratchet.
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight girl it's only you and me
Pierre's eyes were now glued shut by his tears, and he felt the drowsiness wash over him. It didn't bother him that he cried – he wasn't one of those macho guys who never cried even if you killed them – he cried almost every night. Tonight wasn't the first, and it definitely wouldn't be the last, either; and Pierre knew this. With a sad smile, he reminded himself that he would always cry for Ratchet, and always love him, no matter what happened – no matter how many nights he never dreamed of the Lombax, no matter how many people told him he was wrong for loving someone who didn't exist, and no matter how many times he found himself being romantically chased by someone in the physical world. He wouldn't let go of Ratchet, ever. He rolled back over and took a final look at his favourite photo of Ratchet.
Everything I know and anywhere I go
It gets hard but it won't take away my love
And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done
It gets hard but it won't take away my love, whoa
Pierre's eyes closed again, and the young man was asleep. When he woke up, he wasn't in his bed – he was standing next to the bed, facing it, looking at the same photo he was looking at before his eyes closed. Confused, he realised that his bed was a mess and went to tidy it, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him from doing so.
"Could I be...?" Pierre thought as he turned around to see a particular Lombax standing behind him smiling warmly at him, deep green eyes staring into his brown ones.
'Don't make the bed,' Ratchet asked him. 'I'm not done with it.'
Pierre, in disbelief, simply nodded and dropped the blanket. Ratchet smiled and put his other hand on Pierre's other shoulder, which Pierre realised was unclothed. He looked down to see if he was wearing anything at all – which he wasn't – and he noticed, with a deep crimson blush, that neither was the Lombax. Pierre's eyes flickered excitedly straight back up to look into Ratchet's eyes. Ratchet leaned forward and surprised Pierre with a kiss, before he gently pushed Pierre backward onto the bed.
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight girl it's only you and me, yeah oh yeah oh