Basically I couldn't let the story go and I'm too attatched to the characters to just move on from there. Here is an alternative ending. How things could have gone if one thing changed. Here is another heart-wrenching book, written from my heart and straight to your's. Enjoy, friends.

Picking up pretty much half way through the last chapter of Help Me. Remington is confronted by the stalker outside Abigail's house.

Trigger warning.

And then the stalker is there, in the flesh, and Remington can't tear his eyes away from him. All of a sudden he has so much anger and so much hate and all he can think about is how other people keep ruining his life. First Holly, now him. He hates it. God, he hates it.

The guy approaches. He looks so fucking empty and it makes Remington feel so fucking full with rage.

Remington hears Andy tell him to get in the car and he hears Abigail tell him to get in the car but he doesn't. He isn't scared anymore. He's angry. He's fucking burning with so much anger he could kill someone.

Andy gets out the car. He goes to grab Remington's hand but the singer violently pushes him away, not willing to coward away this time. He's tired of running from everything. He won't run, not anymore. He won't.

The guy has a knife but Remington still isn't scared. Or if he is, he refuses to let himself think about it. All he can think about is how fucking angry he is.

He takes a few steps towards the stalker and Andy tries to pull him back. Remington shoves him away. "I dare you!" He shouts. "I fucking dare you! What're you gonna do? Stab me? Go on! Do it! End me like Holly wanted!"

Unsurprisingly, the guy is taken back by Remington's sudden confidence.

"I dare you!" Remington watches the knife is his hand and all he sees is his desire to kill someone. "Stab me!"

"Re-"

"Shut the fuck up!" The boy screams at Andy, stepping closer to the stalker. "Who are you?"

He says nothing.

"Who the fuck are you?" Remington lunges, tries to grab the knife. Instead of gripping the handle, he makes contact with the blade and slices deep into the palm of his hand. He screams, quickly retracting his arm stumbling back, suddenly terrified now he's hurt. He doesn't want to kill anyone. He wants to wake up from this awful nightmare and be safe with Andy, not dripping blood from his hand while looking at his own fucking disaster.

Abigail is calling an ambulance, watching Andy step infront of Remington to protect him. When she puts the phone down, Remington is sitting on the stone driveway in a daze of pain and blood loss, watching the shiny red swirling around on the ground as though it's some sort of magic experiment. The woman comes to his side quickly, wrapping his hand in a jacket she grabbed from just inside her house. She keeps a tight hold of it to save Remington from having to think about it, an eye on Andy and the danger he's putting himself in.

"You've had your fun," Andy is saying, seemingly un-phased by the fact that he's facing an armed and anonynous man while he's completely un-armed. As long as he's protecting Remington, he doesn't care what he's getting himself into. "You've not said one fucking word to us and I've had enough! Who the fuck are you?" He daren't turn his head to glance at his husband, as much as he wants to. He knows he'll probably be stabbed if he looks away. "Put the fucking knife down!"

Instead of responding, the stalker jabs the knife at Andy, who steps back to avoid the blade.

"If you don't tell me, I swear-"

"Andy, 's okay," Remington interjects, voice strained, now sitting against Abigail with his head tipped back onto her shoulder. "You're-you'll get hurt. Jus' leave it. 's okay."

Andy, just for a second or two, turns to look at Remington, and doesn't understand why the boy suddenly screams until there's a blade across his throat and he can feel the hot blood running down his neck and soaking into his shirt. His hands fly up and he grips his throat, trying to stay conscious, and he falls to his knees.

"Andy!" Remington screams, scrambling to get closer to the man. "No! No! No, Andy!" He doesn't care about his hand anymore. He reaches his husband and presses his hands over Andy's, in tears and shaking.

Abigail grabs the stalker before he runs off and manages to keep him from escaping until the ambulance and police arrive. He's handcuffed and put in the back of the police car, and the therapist watches the two men she's grown so fond of as they're loaded into the ambulance. She can't go with them because she's got three more people to see today, and so all she can do is hope they're both okay.

Remington's the first one to wake from the strong medication he was given. He finds that his hand has been stitched up and bandaged, and he's in an all too familiar white hospital bed, his big brother sitting in the chair. He rubs his eyes and looks for Andy but the man isn't here.

"Hi, bub," Sebastian says gently. "They stitched you up. You're good to go home in a few hours."

"What about Andy?"

"He's still in the operation. Has been for three hours. He'll be okay." The man closes the magazine he was reading. "They caught the stalker. That's good, isn't it?"

"Is he Holly's brother?"

"I don't know."

Remington sits up. "I'm gonna have a scar, aren't I?"

"I'm afraid so."

The boy sighs. "I already have enough," he mumbles, "so fuck that. I'll cut my whole arm off, I swear."

"You are a drama queen sometimes, you know that?"

Remington huffs.

"Scars make you strong, bub."

"No they don't. That's not true. It's just what people say to make weak people feel better."

"See, drama queen," Sebastian teases, "you're stronger than me. You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

The man smiles. "Because you have scars and you have demons and you still smile and make others smile. I can't always do that but you can. You're the damn best."

"You're a damn liar."

"You're a damn drama queen."

Remington looks down and yawns. He knows Andy will be okay. The man always is, somehow.