Andy, or Dr. Biersack as you knew him, was your doctor, but not just any doctor. He wasn’t just any regular physician. He was the one you reported to every single day in your home, which was the state mental institution. You had lived there most of your life, and only knew Andy, er, Dr. Biersack to be the closest thing to family that you had. He held a certain spot for you in his heart that was more than what he had ever felt for the others he provided care to.
“Hi.” You say dryly, holding out your shackled wrists. Andy twisted a key into the tiny keyhole to release your hands. You rubbed your wrists, sinking down into your seat. Today had been your daily therapy session with Dr. Biersack. You hated it. All he did was fill an entire hour with repetitive questions and made you think. He made you talk about your feelings and make goals for yourself. Stupid shit you didn’t care to do. He knew your entire life story practically, why did he need to ask you of it every day?
“Now let’s sit up straight. There’s no reason to hide your lovely features from me. You’re safe here.”
Huffing, you sit up straight in the cushioned chair, folding your arms. Andy sat across from you, scribbling about on his clipboard when he’d take the occasional glance over at you. You hadn’t moved.
“Do you want to tell me about your day?”
You shake your head.
You face the other way, forming a scowl. He was so nosy! What did he care?
“(Y/N), the silent treatment won’t do you any good here. What did I tell you about sharing how you feel?”
“I don’t know why you care, nobody else does. I’m just another crazy. You know, insane.”
“That isn’t true. You are your own biggest bully, (Y/N). You’re so much better than that. Remember what I say about treating yourself better?”
Rolling your eyes, you begin to recite “I am worthy, I am wanted, and I am loved.”
Andy smiles at your unenthusiastic tone. He had drilled that little motto into your brain since day one. You were a greater obstacle than most, yet not impossible to break through. He knew that underneath your bitter, cold, tough, front was an angel. He could see it in your eyes how broken you were on the inside and needed love, although you didn’t know how to find it or how to ask for it. You were difficult to show affection to at times, because you were so foreign to it. Andy was determined to soften you up to others, but mostly to himself. He saw so much potential to you, and did not believe someone so beautiful as yourself deserved to go through life miserable and without love.
You notice Andy’s soft features studying the clipboard. His lips pursed together while he carefully wrote down his interaction with you. One thing you couldn’t deny was that he had to be the most breathtaking thing you’d ever saw. You often wondered if he knew, or if he knew you felt that way about him. At one point, you actually took his suggestion to keep a journal instead of sharing your thoughts with him every day. Then at the end of each week, you would share only one thing that stood out to you the most from your journal and you would discuss it. However, that was an idea that didn’t last for too long, since most of the journal consisted of you writing about how handsome he was.
Not that he’d give an asylum girl a chance…
…Or so you thought.
“Your wife must be very lucky.”
“Thank you, honey. But I am not married.”
“I don’t know, maybe because I haven’t found "the one” yet.“ Andy jokes.
Honey. He called you "Honey”. It wasn’t a first for him to call you by such a pet name. Sweetheart, lovely, and darling were all things you regularly heard from him, which never made you think twice, so why now? It gave you a minor fluttering feeling on the inside, that rubbed you in an odd way. It kind of made you feel sick. Gulping, the feeling subsided a little, but the thought didn’t quite leave your mind.
“(Y/N), I think you’ve got a bigger heart than what you believe. I know that somewhere, deep, deep, down is a beautiful girl just looking for her way out. It sounds silly now, but trust me, it’s in there somewhere.” He points towards your chest. “You allow yourself to get so stuck in your own head and let your thoughts hurt you, and that’s not fair. You can’t be afraid to feel what you need to feel, and that’s what I’m trying to help you do, understood?”
“Alright. You can’t keep pushing me away, (Y/N). I care about you too much to allow you to be all alone and heartbroken. Do you think you could work on trusting me? Let me in a little, I do not want to hurt you. I want to do whatever I can to make you happy, but you have to help me to help you, okay?”
“Okay.” You nod. Even if you didn’t say much, you felt so vulnerable to him. He had his own way of pushing past your guard even when you didn’t realize it. You understood that he had nothing but good intentions, it wasn’t easy to surrender to him and pour your heart into his hands, so to speak. You did genuinely like Andy. He’s been there for you since you were first admitted. He meant so much to you. Dr. Biersack had asked you to make a big step for yourself, and although he wouldn’t dare let you fall, does that mean he’d catch you, or rather make you brace yourself for the impact?
Evening was just settling over the humid summer air. The damp climate had somehow flipped a one-eighty to chilly and windy, almost as if it were early November. Your arms shivered underneath your cozy sweater, sending electricity down your spine. You were nervous, afraid, even, as all hell. But to anyone spending time in the same park you had just arrived to, they’d assume you were just like anyone else, when in reality, you were about to commit a major crime. It was probably one of the single, most idiotic things you have ever put yourself up to, but you felt that it was all in good reason.
See, what you were planning was something Andy had asked of you, if you were brave enough to do it. He’d be on work release with other inmates to clean up the same park you were at. He had planned a way for you to see each other outside of penitentiary visits, in hopes of it being fail proof. He and the others were kept far enough away from the public to not cause any ruckus or worry, yet close enough to where you could spot him out.
He had sent you a letter with full instructions and a plan. He said he didn’t want you to feel like you were obligated to do something so risky, however, it was the only way to have some real time together, alone. Andy said he wanted to talk to you about some stuff too, which you weren’t sure of how you were able to cram all of that in such a short time frame, but it would have to work somehow.
You crept along the more populated area, behind some trees, along a jogging trail. Andy pushed around a stick with a bright orange bag in one hand, acting if he were really making an attempt to pick up trash. He was facing your direction to keep an eye out for you. Andy spots your figure from afar, under the shadow from one of the big shade trees. He nods up to you, motioning you to quicky sneak behind a small stone structure, which would be the park’s public restroom.
Kind of gross, but you trusted him and his plan. You were instructed in his letter to push open the window and crawl through into the men’s side, on the very end. First, you watched Andy set down his stick and bag, then walk up to one of the guarding officers where he’d then ask to use the restroom. The officer nods, escorting him only half way to the bathroom, then waves him off unsupervised. He either really didn’t care, or Andy had done so well in prison that they trusted him more than the others.
“High security my ass” you mutter to yourself. These supposed “guards” were so aloof it wasn’t funny. Any time the gang of convicts could turn on them in the park and escape. But whatever, that wasn’t any of your business.
Reaching the window to the men’s bathroom, you hop up, and push the window as hard as you could. It swings open, perhaps hitting the tile wall on the inside. Your hands grip the window ledge, hopping up, then pulling your weight with your arms to hoist you inside. Once you’re halfway in, two very familiar hands pull you in, then two arms wrap around your waist to catch your fall, colliding your face into a scratchy clothed chest.
“Andy!” You squeal, squeezing him as tight as you could. He hugs you back with one arm, closing the window with his free hand and clicking it’s lock in place. He embraces you fully, getting a feel of dampness against his clavicle.
“Don’t cry, baby doll.” He pulls away with his hands cupping your face. His thumbs wipe away your small tears that blurred your eyes, unveiling his scruffy face. You can tell he hadn’t been doing too well. He was more so than likely depressed and having difficulty dealing with it being locked away 24/7. His eyes had bags around them, his smile was weak, and he hadn’t shaven in some time, but you liked how raw he looked in contrast to his usual flawless features and cocky ways.
Your forehead is kissed “I told you I’d find a way for us to see each other again. I don’t have long, but I’ll do my best for you, baby.”
Nodding, you take his hands in yours. It feels like eternity before he pulls you close again, but this time from behind. His arms wrap around your waist. His lips leave chaste kisses all over your neck, ending with a lick at your ear lobe.
“I don’t know what you see in me.” His raspy voice murmurs. “You know I’m no good for you.
You run your hands over his tattooed forearms, feeling secure in his embrace, as if that’s where you belonged. "I like you, Daddy. You know that.”
“Whatever makes you happy, baby girl. Don’t let this get to you too much, I don’t want to break your heart.” His hands firmly press your hips onto his, nibbling along the crook of your neck, up to the shell of your ear, ending a kiss onto your cheek.
The last thing Andy wanted to do was leave you heartbroken from his own doings. Although he wished he could give you everything you deserved, he couldn’t, and there was zero guarantee that he ever will be able to. Regardless of what he would say to you, every time he spoke to you, or received one of your letters, it gave him a little bit of hope and comfort to know that someone on the outside saw him as worthy rather than just a convict.
“I brought you something.” You pull away to face him. Diging through your purse, you pull out a small envelope with his name decorated on the front. “They’re more pictures of me.”
“Mmmm…” he bites his lower lip, taking the envelope from your hand, hiding it in the waistband of his uniform pants. “I bet you I’ll have a lot of fun with those.”
“I hope you do.” Your arms drape along his shoulders, bringing him in closer. “I made sure they’re exactly what you wanted, and even a little more.”
“Anything naked? What about pictures of you playing with yourself?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see, Daddy.” You giggled, kissing his Adam’s apple, then biting at the tender flesh. “It’s a surprise. Make sure you’re all alone and ready to play before you look at them.”
“I’m always ready to play,” he purrs, squeezing your behind. “I’m always down to play with you, kitten.”
His words make your face hot and your knees weak. He knew how to use his words with you, and wasn’t shy to say exactly how you made him feel.
“I better get going before we get caught.” Andy pulls you into a tight hug and thanks you for your gift to him, as well as sneaking around law enforcement to see him outside of prison walls.
“I’ll talk to you soon, okay? I promse.”
Pouting, you nod, folding your arms, then turning away to leave through the window you had jumped through to get in. Andy grabs your wrist and pulls you back, restricting you by the waist.
“Don’t be upset, little doll. We’ll see each other again soon. I almost forgot to give you a little something.”
His hands hold both sides of your face while he leans his face down to yours. His lips connect to yours, molding together perfectly. His tongue finds yours and explores your lips, fitting into one another flawlessly, like a missing piece. You hold him closer, not wanting to let him go.
Your lower lip is tugged between Andy’s teeth. He breaks the kiss, planting just a few more small ones, then giving you one last hug before he leaves.
“Everything will be okay.” His hand cups your cheek. “I promise as soon as I get back, I’ll write you a letter, reserve a time to call you, and look at your sexy little pictures before I go to bed. I’ll be thinking about you.”
He turns to leave, exiting the dingy public restroom. A part of you feels to have been ripped away and taken with him. Your desire for Andy to be permanently yours grew stronger and stronger each time you got a little piece of him, whether it be a phone call, visit, letter, or even a thought. He definitely had you in a way no one else would, which meant that you’d be by his side no matter what. Andy could say that he wasn’t any good, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t any good to you.