Trigger warning: Eating disorder, self harm, depression

The next time Jinxx visits, which is three days later, Andy isn't in the room. The guitarist closes the door behind himself and puts his coat over the arm of the chair. He steps towards the small bathroom. The door is closed. "Andy?" He asks. "Andy, man, you in there?" He knocks gently on the door and waits for a moment. "Biersack, you there?" Now, he hears something from inside. A muffled sob or something similar. He frowns, knocks again, says, "Are you okay? Can I come in?" Another moment of patience and the same sounds coming from behind the door. "I'm coming in," he says, pushing down the handle and opening the door.

On the ground against the glass of the shower, Andy is sitting. His left wrist is bloody, as are his right finger tips, and on his face are shiny red trails made my heavy tears which have only just begun to subside. He looks up at Jinxx and then back down at his hands. 

Approaching him, Jinxx kneels down and reaches for the roll of toilet paper. He tears off a fair number of pieces and presses it over the cuts. "Bad day?" He asks. 

Andy doesn't respond. He opens his right hand and something falls onto the floor. Broken pieces of a boil point pen, all jagged and covered in blood. 

"Come on, buddy, lets get you off the floor," the elder says softly, though Andy makes no attempt to move. "What's going on? Why are you in here?" 

The man wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm gonna get a doctor to bandage this up." 

Andy shakes his head now. He weakly grabs Jinxx's arm. 

Jinxx moves closer, uses tissues to dab the younger's face. "What is it?" 

He shakes his head again. Hair is falling over his eyes. 

"You need a doctor, buddy."

There are fresh tears in Andy's eyes. He blinks to make them go away. "No doctor," he mumbles. His hands are shaking. 

"What's wrong? Why have you done this to yourself?" 

"I don't know." Shame is heavy in his voice. Shame and helplessness. 

Jinxx strokes his cheekbone. "Come and lie down, okay? You'll get numb sitting on this." 

Andy hesitates, then nods. 

Carefully, Jinxx helps him up with hands under his armpits, alarmed at the lightness of him, though knows he should have been expecting it. Actually feeling it is so much more upsetting that just knowing about it. Like watching death through a television screen versus watching it happen right in front of you. He walks Andy over to the bed and lifts the covers for him, sitting on the edge of the bed once Andy is settled. 

After a few long minutes of quiet, Andy opens his mouth to speak. "They made me eat," are the first words that he can find. His voice is weak and soft. He looks at his wounded arm and touches the cuts with his fingers, until Jinxx takes his hand to keep him from hurting himself further. He bites his lip breathes in unsteadily. "Because they're taking the tube out next week. Said I need to start eating again." He shakes his head, tries to shake away more tears. "I can't. I can't eat again," he mumbles, looking at their connected hands and taking another shaky breath, whispering, "I cant'." 

"You did it today." 

"Yeah, but...but then I did this." Andy closes his eyes for a long blink, sniffling and shaking his head again. "And I didn't even eat it all. Didn't even do it right." 

"But you ate some of it, Andy. That's a good thing." 

"It's not. It's not." He pulls his hand from the elder and covers his face. "They're gonna make me do it again tomorrow. And I can't. I can't." 

"Yes, you can." 

"No. No, Jinxx. No. I can't. I can't. It's horrible, it makes me want to die. I can't. I can't feel like this tomorrow." 

"Every day you do it, it'll be a little easier." 

Andy shakes his head, turning over and beginning to cry. He says nothing as Jinxx lies with him, wraps his arms around his shoulders and hugs him from behind. He holds Jinxx's hands tightly even though his wrist hurts. 

"You did the right thing eating today," the violinist whispers. "I know it doesn't feel like that, but I promise, you did the right thing. And I'm proud of you, okay? We're all proud of you. You're doing your best and that's all you can do, and it's okay to feel like this, it is. I promise you. It doesn't make you weak, it makes you human. You're doing your best and we're so proud of you. Okay? We're so proud." 

"You are?" 

"Of course. Of course we are. You're the best person we know, we're always proud of you. But now more than ever." 

"I feel like a failure." 

"No, baby, no. Never. You're struggling and that's okay. It doesn't make you any less awesome than you've always been. Everybody falls down sometimes, remember?" 

Andy sniffles. "Yeah yeah, very good." A pause, then, "I just want to feel normal again." 

"You were never normal, don't kid yourself." 

"Shut up." 

"Can I get a doctor to bandage your arm now?" 

"Five more minutes," the younger whispers. "I needed this." 

"I had a feeling." 

"Thank you." 

"Don't thank me, it's what brothers are for. Five minutes, then I'll find a doctor, okay?" 

"Yeah, fine." 

"Proud of you." 

"You said that." 

"I'm saying it again." 

Andy smiles. "One more time?" 

"Proud of you." 

"I love you, Jinxx." 

"I love you too, Biersack. You weirdo." 

"Fuck off." He closes his eyes. "Will you come here tomorrow and eat with me?" 

"Course I will, man. Anything you need, I'm here, 'kay?" 

Andy hums. "I know." 

"Good. So are the others, but they're all dicks."

"Eh, so are you sometimes." 

"And you, Biersack. Mister 'get your arses up and be productive for once'." 

The younger shakes his head and smiles. "Well, it works." 

"Yeah, sure," Jinxx says. "We're just so scared of you that we'll do anything you ask." 

"Please, that's bullshit. If that were true, you wouldn't be spooning me right now." 

"I can stop." 

"No. I need this." He pulls Jinxx's arms tighter around his shoulders and exhales. "I need this and I need you."