Trigger Warning : Mentions of self harm, depression

Andy isn't exactly sure what got him here, why he felt the overpowering and frankly scary need to do this, but now it's done and all he can do is hide it from everyone, because if they were to find out, they'd make him go back to that hospital, and Andy won't be seen there again. Not with the bland food and childlike rooms. He's a grown man, so what if there's a little blood on his arm? Men deal with blood, babies cry over it until they're given attention.

And Andy isn't a baby, so he can deal with it. He is dealing with it.

It's quiet in the house. Remington is asleep and has been for a few hours. They spent the afternoon and early evening in the garden, Andy explaining and repeating what various things were, Remington doing his best to maintain the information but eventually it would slip away into the muddy puddle of confusion that is his memory.

Andy is careful to be quiet as he opens the bathroom cabinet and gets out a box of plasters. He wrips the box open and takes out three of the largest, pressing them right over the cuts and ignoring the pain.

Men can deal with pain.

Then he tidies up and returns the blade, which he took from a razor, into its original place, not that it really matters. Remington would never understand, even if he walked in on a bloody sink and a blade floating in it. He'd take any excuse Andy makes up as the reality.

Andy goes to check on him once everything is as it should be. Remington is in the spare room tonight, as most nights, and is sleeping soundly, though Andy can't help but to notice his phone by the bed, buzzing twice just as he's turning to leave.

It's no secret Remington is talking to people online. Andy remembers his brothers mentioning it and has seen the younger many times engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

Andy wants to pick it up, to snoop, see who it is, what's being said between them, but he doesn't, because he's Remington's husband and that means giving him privacy and space to do what he wants, within reason. And besides, texting someone online can hardly cause much damage, not when one half of the conversation is sent by someone who can't remember his own favourite food.

Andy goes back to bed. He sleeps but is troubled. By the knowledge of what he's done, by the worry that Emerson or Sebastian will find out, by the fact that Remington loves him but still won't sleep in his bed with him. By a lot, but it's fine, because he's a man and men deal with it.

Remington is up before Andy the following morning, sitting in the kitchen when the man comes down. He smiles.

Andy smiles back. "Morning, sunshine," he says. "You not having breakfast?"

"What? Oh. No, the, uh, the hot things scare me."

"Oh, they do?"

"Yeah, 'Cause what if I forget they're hot?"

"What do you want? I was gonna make porridge."

"Porridge. That's the... The oat thing?"

"Yeah, that's right. Want me to make you some?"

Remington nods. "Thanks, Andy." He picks up his phone.

Andy gets a pan from the cupboard, leaving it on the hob to retrieve milk and oats. "I'm going out today so your brother is coming to stay with you until I come back, okay?"

Whatever Remington is looking at seems to draw all his attention away completely.

Andy sighs. "Hey," He says firmly. "Can you listen, just for a sec? This is important."

"Why're you shouting at me?" He asks, looking up.

"Sorry, hon. I didn't mean to sound that mean."

"Oh. Okay."

"I'm going out today."

Remington frowns. "Why?"

"To work on music with my band."

"You're in a band?"

Andy closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, though knows its not Remington's fault and he can't get annoyed at him. "Yeah."

"Okay," the boy mumbles, sensing the irritation and wishing he had just pretended he knew.

"So," Andy goes on, "your brother is going to come over and stay here until I come back, okay?"

"Okay."

"And you know who your brother is?"

"Yes, I'm not stupid."

The man sighs. "Okay, good. Well, I'm going in half an hour, after breakfast."

Going where? Remington wants to asks, but instead, says, "okay."

Breakfast is eaten quietly. Then, Andy collects his things and tells Remington, again, where he's going, that Sebastian will be here soon, and leaves.

Remington sits in the kitchen until his brother turns up. When Sebastian arrives, he greets the younger and Remington stares at him. "You alright?" The guitarist asks.

"Uh...yeah. Fine."

"Sure?"

"Yes."

Sebastian frowns but dismisses it. He fills the kettle and Remington continues staring. "How's Andy?"

"What?"

"Andy," Sebastian repeats. "How's Andy?"

Remington just stares.

"Your husband. How's your husband?"

"Who're you?"

"I'm your brother, Sebastian. I thought you knew that."

"But..." He looks away. "Never mind."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Remington nods.

"I'm not convinced," Sebastian says to himself. "Have you had breakfast?"

"What?"

"Have you eaten?"

Remington shrugs dismissively.

Sebastian gives up and leaves him to what he's doing on his phone. No doubt texting whoever he spends most of his time texting.