The Summer Job ~ Andy Biersack *Completed

--Andy's POV--

I heard her soft cries as she turned into my chest, her wet hair sticking to either sides of her cheeks and her long sleeved shirt wrinkling with water. "Baylie, you need to get to a hospital..." I said, trying to sound comforting. She pushed at me in protest. "Okay, okay...shh..." I cooed, rubbing her head with my hand.
"Come on, come let's dry you off."

She was absolutely hysterical.

I wasn't sure what she had been through, but she was absolutely wrecked. I could tell she wasn't thinking clearly and, frankly, neither was I.

My head was spinning.

I didn't realize how much I depended on her until someone tried to take her from me. And now I knew, I couldn't hide this from myself anymore. I needed her. I needed to know she was safe and I knew it was up to me to protect her. Even if it meant getting her in more shit than she started with, I had to have her.

It was a selfish, self-pleasing desire that I would fill without hesitance.

I hoisted her up and onto her feet, although I kept my arms around her because she wasn't holding herself up. "Baylie, come on, I just need to dry you off and get you into the bed." I said comfortingly.

I wasn't crazy about giving her stitches, but I couldn't stand her being in the hospital. Besides, I knew she had loads of legal issues. She was missing half her paperwork, and she didn't have any healthcare. Besides, it's not like I haven't done stitches before.

I did boxing a lot when I was younger. Got used to busted knuckles, stuff like that. Part of the requirement to enter championships was that you took a general first aid and safety class specified for close-contact sports, and emergency stitches was part of the package. And I had all the stuff here from, well, Joan and I's various scraps.

All she was wearing was her shirt and her undies, and I thought it would be easier to dry her off if she wasn't wearing her shirt. However, I wasn't sure how well that would go with her. Either way, I needed to see the damage on her midsection.

"I'm just gonna take this off so I can get your drier, babe." I said smoothly. She instantly protested, pushing at my chest frailly. It was crucial I didn't force her into anything, but it was also important I help her as soon as possible. "Hey hey hey, shh....I need to help you." I comforted, swiftly pulling the shirt over her head until she was left in her bra and underwear.

Her neck was chafed and bloodied from the clenching metal collar snapped onto her, irrimovable. It was difficult enough getting it off last time, and I could tell it was tighter this time.

I rubbed her up and down with a cream white towel, and when I threw then towel down I noticed it was drenched with lines of blood.

She was hit hard.

"Baylie, come on! Help me out!" I said desperately, trying to pick her up awkwardly so I could get her to the bed. "I-..." She began to whimper, her hysterica never giving up. I picked her up in an awkward bridal style and hurried her to the bed, laying her down atop the covers gently. The box of medical supplies still sat idle on the ground from last month.

I examined the damage. It was bad. Cuts and bruises all over, deeper and larger than last time. There were so many...I got distracted for a moment and ran my fingers along the red slices, making her flinch. "Andy..." She whimpered. I retracted my hand immidiately. "Sorry." I said under my breathe, grabbing the medical box.

And then commenced the stitching.

Notes

Enjoy my little butterflies!