Lillian & Andrew | WWE Drew McIntyre fanfic

Chapter One

I woke up to the morning sun blinding me. It came from a nearby window. Looking around, I found my self on the living room couch wrapped in a thick blanket.

Andrew was nowhere to be seen in the room. So, without hesitation, I helped myself to the kitchen.

I dangerously stood on the countertop checking every cabinet till I finally reached the one stashed with what I had in mind; snacks. I reached high, forcing myself on my tiptoes to reach a little bag of chips. The cat got the mouse, however.

"Whit dae ye think yoo're daein'? A harty voice jolted me. Andrew stood near the stove, arms crossed.

A shy look came across my face, and I got down from the counter. I hung my head with my hands behind my back, not daring to utter a word.

The Scotsman walked over and shut the cabinet, "We're gonnae th' hospital then th' stair." He helped me down.

"Th' stair?" I looked up at him confused as he ushered me to the couch. "Store," Andrew forced his voice to sound American, "We're.. Going.. to the.. Store."

I let out a laugh, "You sound like a robot!"

He gave a frown, before propping my feet on his knee to tie my shoes.

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The sliding doors to the hospital opened for us. Andrew placed his hands underneath my thin arms and carried me on his hip to the front counter. My head swivled about, watching as people and their children come and go.

Andrew spoke to the desk lady about stuff then held out my wrist for the nice lady to place a strip of paper around it. What it was for, I had no clue. The tall Scots placed me on his knee as we sat in the waiting room. My eyes scanned the area, all the seats beside us were taken.

I tugged at his sleeve, "Andrew?" He gave a "Hmm."

"Why are we at the hospital?"

His gaze finally had shifted from the tv to me, "Weel, in order fur me tae be yer foo time guardian till we fin' yer faither, Ah also need yer medical record."

I kept messing with the paper cuff around my wrist, "And what is this for?" I held it up to his face. He pointed at the lettering typed on it, "that let's them know who ye are."

Andrew's eyes went back to the screen on the tv. I looked up and watched it in curiosity, and remembered something about my father.

"My daddy bets on those." I pointed a finger towards the tv. This got Andrew's full attention, "He what?"

I gave a nod, "My daddy bets on those, he makes lots of money from them. But he also loses too."

The subject of the matter was Wrestling and the fact my father had an awful gambling habit that could never be quenched. The tall Scotsman made a whispered comment, "Ya know, I work for them."

"You do?!" I whispered back.

Andrew gave a nod, "I can't leave ya at the home by yourself when I leave for work. You have to be on the road with me. Does your father go to the wrestling matches?"

I nodded back with vigor.

"Then maybe you'll be able to go back with him then." He proposed.

Gasping, "Really? I can't wait!" I smiled brightly.

Soon my name was called and we both were escorted to a room in the back. A nurse entered with papers on a clip board.

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Tears stained my face from earlier as I was buckled in the car. My head was down, my arm felt numb and sore to the touch where the needles poked me.

"Don't worry this will only hurt a little," I mimicked the doctor, crossing my arms with a huff of frustration and kicked the back of Andrews seat, "It hurt a lot!"

Andrew warned, "Lassie, stop kickin' my seat."

I was too upset to even care, kicking it more. He's steel glair met my eyes in rearview mirror, his had reaching behind grabbing at my foot, "I said, Stop."

And I did as told.

My brow furrowed, nonchalantly looking out the window. "I can't wait to go back home."

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"Andrew!" I let out a whine as he placed me in the front of the trolly, "I'm a big girl, I can walk!"

The man shook his head, "Nae way, Ah ainae losin' ye."

I crossed my arms with a huff, my lips pouty. Andrew gave a chuckle at me, probably finding my frustrated face cute. I kicked his leg, "It's not funny." He only chuckled more.

We passed several aisles, grabbing food and drinks, working our way to get all the things we needed. I gave a huff and a puff, it was so boring.

"Can we go now?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No."

A few seconds later

"Now?"

"No!"

There was sterness in his voice, I was obviously irritating a nerve. Then again, everything irritated the scottsmen. From me to something as simple as the mail running late. There was no end to his impatience. Even my impatience makes him impatient.

"You're just a grumpy old man." I stuck my tongue out at him as he grabbed things from the shelves.

My eyes caught something. Something Andrew was trying to avoid. The toy aisle. My arms shot out towards him, wildly pointing behind him. "Toys!" I cried out. I begged and I begged but he just kept pushing the trolly forward. I gave him puppy dog eyes, yet, still he said no. Apparently I was good all day, according to him.

"No. No, Lillian, don't start-"

And so began the crying.

He used his sleeve to try and wipe my face, but I shoved him away. "It ain't the end of the world, lassie." Andrew kept trying anyways.

"No you're just a big meany." My voice had raised in pitch, fighting of napkins and his sweater sleeves.

It was obvious that I really needed a nap.

(A/N: sorry for the long wait. Hope you enjoyed it!

P.s. Andrew's thick dialect in his dialogue slowly fades into regular english as Lillian understands him more and more) (He's still Scottish though)