Surrender

Chapter Thirty Seven

Well this chapter definitely took an unexpected turn and hopefully you like it! I can't believe Surrender is almost finished! Eeeek!  Enjoy this chapter and remember I love you all!!!

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-Whitney

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CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

"LOUIS!" I yell again, watching Beck's eyes roll into the back of his head. I get up off of the floor and tear at Louis' shirt, yanking and pulling as hard as I can against his arm.

"Louis please!" I shriek, taking advantage of his few second delay as he winds his arm back and lock my fingers around his fist. I hold on as tight as I can, surprised by his strength and pull him away from Beck's limp, bloody body. He stumbles backwards as I trip over my own feet and we crash into the desk, my back hitting it hard, knocking the wind out of me. I leave him leaning against the desk and kneel in front of Beck, his face covered in blood. I feel around for a pulse, my two fingers now a sticky deep red, and when I feel it, I close my eyes and sigh.

"Thank God." I say, sitting back on my heels. I gently slap the side of Beck's face in an attempt to bring him back around. After a few slaps he starts to stir and his eyes open, coughing at the amount of blood in his mouth. I sit him up and let him spit out the excess blood in his mouth, most of it covering his pants and the floor.

"There are paper towels in the bottom drawer." I tell Louis as I help Beck to his feet. His nose is still bleeding considerably and it's flowing down the front of his face and down his chin. I look over at him and see his eyes glued to the floor, his hands hanging loosely at his sides.

"Louis!" I say in a stern voice, snapping him out of his reverie. He looks up at me with fear in his eyes, "Bottom drawer. Paper towels." I say clearly and slowly so he hears me this time. He jerks into action, his legs wobbly and clumsy. He opens the drawer, brings me the paper towels and then retreats to his spot against the desk. I unroll a a few and press it gingerly under Beck's nose and steer us in the direction of the bathroom. He seems to be walking fine, but his head is teetering back and forth and his face is very pale. I push him through the door, amazed at my self for supporting him the entire way, and sit him down on the toilet. I grab a few paper towels and run them under the faucet so I can clean off his face and neck. I glance in the mirror and see a black eye forming as my eye begins to swell, and try to remember if Nora keeps any Tylenol or Advil around. I set the wet paper towel down and rip off small piece of toilet paper so I can stick them up Beck's nose to hinder anymore bleeding while I clean him up. 

"Here." I say, moving his hand and dropping the now drenched paper towel in the trash. I move to stick one of the pieces up his nose and he jerks his head away. 

"No." He says, his lips caked with his blood. I grip the back of his neck and tilt his head back. 

"Don't be a baby." I say, slowly sticking the toilet paper in his nose. He flinches and grinds his teeth together. I know it hurts, Peter had practically done the same thing to me. I stick the other one in and move in a little closer to him, slowly wiping off his face. His eyes  never leave my face and I find myself feeling a little self conscious. 

"You picked a real champ, you know that?" He says in a bitter voice. I'm not giving him the satisfaction he wants, so I smile down at him. 

"Thank you." I say sweetly, dropping the soled paper towel in the trash and rip off a few more.