In the doorway of Andy's room, Remington stood and watched, just for a minute or two, while The Perfect drew. He was sat at the desk, and had one of the six pens that Emerson had gifted in his hand, as well as a high quality pad of paper. He wanted to use each sheet to its fullest potential, wanted to show his gratitude to Emerson through the respect he showed the art. "Hey, Andy, whenever you've got a minute, I need to talk to you about something," Remington said eventually. 

Andy looked up from the drawing. "I'll just finish this window," he said. "Then I will come down."

"No rush."

Andy joined him in the living room just five minutes later, sat down and said, "What is it? Have I done something to upset you?"

"No. Nothing like that. Not at all. No. I, uh, I got an email earlier. I think it's only right I let you know what's going on." He sighed. "There have been more Perfects getting attacked lately. You know, like you were."

For a moment, And was quiet. "That is very worrying," he then said.

"They've given me advice on how best to keep you safe and I promise I'll do all I can. But you need to be careful, too, okay? I know you enjoy spending time with Emerson and I love that you get on so well, but when you're with him, please remind him to be alert for any dangers if you're in public. I'll tell him, too, of course, but he has a tendency sometimes to forget these things because of how much he thinks about all his art and everything. He can get carried away to such an extent that anything else will slip his mind. You know. Plans he's made with other people and stuff. You understand?"

There was clear concern in his voice that Andy recognised easily. "Yes, of course. Thank you for telling me."

"I don't want it to stop you from enjoying yourself but if anything does happen when I'm not around, you have to come home straight away, okay? It's my duty to protect you and I don't know what I'd do if anything happened."

Andy nodded, but his expression was troubled. "Of course."

"I don't wanna scare you, I'm sorry." Remington said, then, "You don't have to act calm, I don't expect you to."

"I do not know how else to act," Andy admitted. "It is the way I am created to act. But I am frightened, Remington. I cannot lie to you about it. I am frightened that I might be attacked again."

"I know. I know. So am I. I'm sorry. Its not fair. But listen, you let me know whatever makes you feel safest, and we'll do it. If you wanna stay inside until they update me on what's going on, then you do that. I'm sure Emerson will come round as much as he can. Just let me know, alright?"

"Thank you, Remi." Again, he sounded troubled, uneasy, and still, he seemed unable to project such emotions to the extent that he wished he could. "It is very kind of you to do all of this for me. I don't know how to thank you."

"Well, when your drawing is finished, you can give it to me and I'll frame it." 

"Yes, I would love to."

Remington gave a soft smile. "Anyway, I'm sorry for ruining your day."

"It is not you who is causing this, don't be sorry." Looking down at his hands and running his fingers over the tattoos, he sighed. Another small sign of real human emotion. "I do not understand why some people are angry. We have done nothing to anger them. We were not created with the intention of angering anybody. I do  not understand." 

"Some people are just unable to be good," Remington told him, though he, too, didn't understand, not really. It was something he wanted to confront Sebastian about. 

His fingers lingering on the Dragonfly tattoo, Andy said, "Perhaps they are simply scared of what we might do to them."

The words made Remington want to cry. It made his heart hurt, the way Andy was so desperate to find an explanation that didn't revolve around calling the attackers bad people.

Andy was still and quiet. He dropped his fingers from the tattoo and then, for the second time, he begun to cry. "I'm sorry, Remi," he said, "I don't wish to burden you."

"No, don't be silly. Come here. It's okay." Remington pulled him into a hug. "You're no burden. You're my Perfect and I'll protect you."

Andy closed his eyes and let himself be held.

"We'll lay low for a bit, okay? See if they send anymore news and work it out as we go." He ran his fingers through Andy's hair. "How'd you sleep last night?"

"I slept well. Your presence is of great comfort to me."

"I'm glad."

"I would like to talk about last night."

Remington hummed. "What about it?"

"You kissed me."

"I did."

Andy pulled away from the hug. "Why?"

"Because you wanted to know if you were gay, and I'm a man."

"I don't believe you would do that for just anyone, Remington. You do not strike me as that type of person."

"Well," Remington said, wiping the tears from Andy's face. "I happen to think you're hot."

Andy studied his face. "There is more to it," he decided. "You kissed me not just because  you think I'm hot, but because you like me."

Smiling, the singer said, "Clever thing, aren't you."

"That is how they made me."