Trigger Warnings: Suicide

When Andy wakes from his sleep, it's more-or-less midnight and the house is quiet. He sits up and rubs his heavy eyes, looking around the room to check Sebastian isn't here. Once he's sure, Andy slides out of bed and creeps out into the hall, opening the bathroom door and cringing at the bright lights that come on behind him. He turns around to Sebastian, arms folded, looking at him sternly.

"Back to bed," the guitarist says, "you really think I'd leave you alone?"

Andy sits on the floor against the wall, shielding his eyes. "Just let me do it," he mumbles, "please. It's the only thing I'm asking for."

"You know I can't let you die, Andy." Sebastian sits beside him. "You must be exhausted."

"Mm."

"Come on, love, come back to bed. I'll lie with you if that's any incentive."

"No, I don't want to go to bed," Andy murmurs, yawning after. "My head hurts."

"You need rest."

"I need to go, please."

"No, baby. Come back to bed, alright?"

Andy shakes his head and rubs his eyes. Then he drops his head onto his knees and yawns again. "I just see no point," he eventually mumbles, as Sebastian begins stroking his hair like he did before. "In trying to pretend it's not breaking me when all I can think about is him and that-that girl, feeling him up like...like he's not mine anymore. He's meant to be mine."

"No one's asking you to pretend," Sebastian says.

"And he-he looked at me like I was a piece of filth, and I just-I can't keep feeling like this. I can't. I've tried to find distractions with-with drinking and my band and shit but I...Sebastian, I just can't."

"You aren't gonna feel like this forever."

"How am I meant to think about forever? Sebastian, please, listen. I can't do this anymore. I can't wake up every day and keep trying to fucking tell myself that dying isn't what I want because it is what I want, so bad. I hate myself, don't you see? I can't stand knowing I've been replaced by a blond clone. It fucking hurts. You have no idea how much it hurts. It's not fair. You can't make me feel like this anymore. It's not fair."

"Andy, you need to get some sleep."

"No, why won't you listen?" He lifts his head. "Sleep won't help! Nothing's gonna fucking help! You can get me all the therapists in the word, I'm still gonna feel like my insides have been put through a blender. I'm in agony, Sebastian. Agony! And it's too much! It's more than too much. It's like a fucking tornado of hatred inside my head! All I can think about is how much I wanna stop feeling things! I wanna stop! Let me stop! Please, let me stop!"

Sebastian finds his begging hard to listen to without tearing up. "You have to push through it."

"I can't! I can't! I've reached the fucking cliff, Sebastian! Let me jump!"

"No."

Andy gets off the floor. "I'm already falling," he says, and dashes into the bathroom, locking the door before Sebastian can get in.

"Andy!" The younger yells, kicking the door. "Andy, don't you fucking dare! This isn't how you die! Don't! Andy!"

"Yes, it is!" Andy yells back, tearing open the medicine cabinet and grabbing the sleeping pills.

(Trigger warning, overdose description ahead)

Sebastian runs into Andy's bedroom for his phone, dialing 999 as he returns to the bathroom. "You're worth more than this!" He shouts, "Andy, you're worth more than this! Please don't! Andy!" The operator picks up. "I need an ambulance," he rushes, "my friend's gonna OD." He tells them the address, begs them to hurry, and kicks at the door once they've hung up. "Andy," he calls again, "Andy, talk to me!"

Instead of talking, the man tips the pills straight into his mouth, swallowing down at least fifteen at once, closing his eyes tight and gulping hard. He does it again until the container is empty. Then, he sits heavily on the floor and blocks out Sebastian's desperate yells with cries of his own because it fucking hurts.

Sebastian has to run at the door twice for it to swing open. It hits Andy as it opens and the man doesn't seem to notice. "No, no, no," he repeats, grabbing Andy's face to be met with open, scared eyes. He turns Andy onto his side and can't do anything other than stroke his cheek and comfort him in case this really is how he dies.

In a matter of minutes, Andy has begun to foam at the mouth, by which time Sebastian can hear sirens and slamming doors. "Up here!" He shouts, "help!"

Paramedics are with them seconds later, making Sebastian step back as they tend to Andy, who's started jerking and gasping. Sebastian stands outside the room and watches them.

"Is he okay?" He asks desperately, "is he okay? Is Andy okay?"

"Sir, please calm down."

"Tell me he's okay!" Sebastian begs. He calls Emerson on Andy's phone instead of working himself up any further.

"Andy?" Emerson asks, voice communicating that he's just woken up.

"It's me," the elder says. His voice wavers.

"Seb? Is everything okay? Why are you on Andy's phone?"

"Find a psych ward."

"What? I thought you said-"

"Do it."

"What's going on?"

Sebastian looks at the scene in the bathroom. Andy is quiet. "He just did it again."

"Fuck. Fuck. Just now?"

"I just watched him fucking OD, Emerson. There was foam and..."

"I'll meet you at hospital."

"Okay."

Emerson gets out of bed. Shy wakes. "It's Andy," he tells her, "he's attempted again. I need to go."

"Emerson, they won't tell me if he's okay," Sebastian says, panicking.

Shy decides she's coming with her boyfriend, so the two dress quickly and descend the stairs, leaving Remington alone in the house. They can deal with him later. "I'm on the way," Emerson says down the phone. "Are they still in the house?"

"They're taking him down to the ambulance now."

"Get in with Andy, Seb. Hold his hand. See you at the hospital." He hangs up. Sebastian follows the paramedics outside, grabbing a coat on the way out and closing the door. They let him in the back of the vehicle and he sits beside the stretcher in tears, holding Andy's hand and praying.