VV brief mentions of eating disorders + substance abuse but it's rlly not triggering

Abigail hugs Remington when she visits. That's the first thing she does, relieved he's safe after his recent suicide attempt. She wishes she could number it but she's lost count by now, though is somewhat convinced that the world loves him so much that it literally will not let him go.

"How are you doing here?" She asks, once they separate the hug and sit down.

"Not bad," Remington says with a shrug. "Oh, guess what?"

"What's that?"

He grins. "Andy's here."

"Andy's here?"

"He's my roommate!"

Abigail raises an eyebrow. "That's unexpected. How's he doing?"

"Better. No more drugs."

"Good. "

"I am sorry."

"For?"

The boy sighs. "Y'know, trying again."

"I'm just so glad you're alright, doll. How're they treating you?" She looks over at his hands, checking he's not shaking because if he's shaking then he's not comfortable.

"Same as last time."

"And is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, mostly. They won't let me have most of my clothes and someone called me a stick man the other day." He shrugs. "D'you know how Emerson is?"

"I tried to talk to him," Abigail says, "he just kept telling me nothing is going on and he's not starving himself. I'll keep trying."

Remington plays with his fingers. "I feel so bad," he mumbles.

"What for, huh?"

"Dunno."

Abigail frowns. "Let's not think about it, okay? We need to concentrate on happy things."

"Stupid happy things."

"I brought you a couple books for you to read," she tells him.

Remington looks in the plastic bag she motions too, taking out the two books and looking at the blurbs. "Thanks," he mumbles, "I just finished mine." He puts a hand on the top of one of the books like he's about to say something else, but doesn't.

"Okay?"

He nods.

Abigail takes his hand. "Are we being honest?"

He shakes his head, pouts.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"It's like...why am I even trying anymore? Like-like every time I try to just-to stop being like this, it just happens again." He rubs his eyes. "God, sorry, I keep making everything depressing."

The woman shakes her head. "You're doing so good, Remington, and I know you're finding it hard. Give yourself a chance, alright?"

Remington sighs. "Fine, I'll try," he pouts, "but it's stupid." He flips through one of the books. "Love you."

Abigail smiles. "And I love you too," she says, "I thought you'd like this one."

"The book?"

She hums.

"One of the characters is called Andy."

"I know."

"But then if he's bad, I'll be sad."

"He's not bad."

He looks at her.

"I read it," she says, "and believe me, you'll like it."

"Well if I don't, it's your problem."

She smiles. "I can live with that."

When he returns to the room, Remington jumps on Andy and bursts into laughter because the man wasn't expecting it. "Guess what?" He asks in a sing song voice.

Andy grips his waist. "They've located your brain?"

"Hey," the boy whines, "I was gonna kiss you but now I don't want to."

"Mm, sorry." He tickles his husband's ribs and the younger squirms. "What am I guessing?"

Remington lean in and licks Andy's cheek. "I'm happy," he announces, grinning after.

Andy grins, too, licking him back as though it's not weird. "That is good news!"

"I know!"

"You're damn pretty."

"You're my damn favourite," Remington returns, "lick my mouth."

Andy raises an eyebrow. "Kitty, that's called a kiss."

"You're called a kiss," he mumbles, slurring the last word because Andy does actually lick his mouth. "Did you go to therapy?"

"Mm."

"And..."

The man strokes his cheek. "She asked a shit ton about the drugs and shit, like I've never heard someone use the word 'addiction' so much in forty five minutes."

"At least you're sober now."

Andy hums.

"And just for the record, I know I called you a druggee, but it was only 'cause I was scared."

"I know, kitty cat, I know. And you were right." He reaches for the two books Remington left on the bed. "Where'd these come from?"

"Mum."

"Oh, that's my name."

Remington smiles. "Sure is." He leans forwards, comfortably against Andy. "Does it gross you out?" He asks then.

"Does what gross me out?"

"When you feel my bones."

"I don't notice it normally, sweetheart. And when I do, I feel more sad than grossed out."

"Sad?"

"Because I know you're struggling and that makes me sad."

Remington yawns into his neck. "But if you're sad, that makes me sad."

"You're happy today, remember?"

"I am happy today." He lifts his head and scrunches his face up when Andy brushes an eyelash from under his eye. "I'm a happy kitty."

Andy chuckles. "You are a happy kitty."

"Don't make that sexual or I'll get a hard on."

"You've already got one."

Remington looks down at his lap.

"Kidding, silly. You're cute."

"Piss off," the boy whines.

"Love you too."

"You're a dick."

"I know."

"Why aren't you calling me princess anymore?"

"I am?"

Remington shakes his head. "You haven't for at least ten minutes."

"Terribly sorry for my unforgivable mistake, princess."

"That's better," he says, followed by a giggle.