Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide, self harm, anorexia

Palaye Royale: Hi, it's Remington! I stupidly forgot my own password so I'm stealing the band account to say that I'm giving away 50 online meet and greet tickets. You'll have the chance to talk to me and Andy for a few minutes, as us any questions you have (that aren't about anything too personal) and a screenshot selfie thingy with us. Can't wait to see your beautiful faces!!!

Andy Biersack: I love how u didn't even ask if I wanted to do this hahaha
User 1: @andybiersack it's because you two are practically one person at this point.
Palaye Royale: @andybiersack @user1 it's because I don't know technology and Andy does and I also don't know how to be social and talk and Andy does mostly, and also because I love Andy and it's physically impossible for me to do anything without him :)

Remington sits in his usual spot at Abigail's, talking as she sits down. "Some girl was a bitch to me," he says, "in the studio the other day. I was trying to give her and her band advice, y'know, because I've been in the music industry for years, and she insulted my weight, said she won't take my advice because I'm obviously not healthy, and didn't even apologise."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Upset and hurt and I wanted to die." He sighs. "And this morning I shouted at Andy."

"Why?"

Remington looks down. "'cause he asked how I slept and I haven't slept well and I shouted at him because it's not fair that he gets to sleep properly and I don't."

"How did he respond?"

"He just tried to calm me down and I kept shouting."

"Do you know why you aren't sleeping well?"

"No, because I'm so tired!" He rubs his eyes. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Are you having bad dreams?"

Remington shakes his head.

"Bad thoughts?"

"Mhm."

Abigail pours him a glass of water. "What sort of bad thoughts? Can you explain them to me so I can help you get rid of them?"

"Just, like..." he picks up the glass and sips the water. "Like, telling me to hurt myself and shit. I've been scratching again."

"Are they telling you anything else? And we can work on the scratching, Remington."

"And telling me that I should'a stayed with Holly 'cause she treated me how I deserve to be treated and Andy's too good to me and I should've just been less pathetic and just taken the abuse like a man. And also I should drown myself in the bath so no one has to deal with my bullshit and I don't have to deal with my bullshit and the whole world would be better if I just killed myself." He swirls the water around in the glass, avoiding his therapist's gaze. "And sometimes they tell me to go to a dodgy club and get raped again."

Abigail watches him as he talks.

"And I wanna tell Andy but every time I try I can't 'cause it's like the people in my head don't trust him and what if I start not trusting him, too?"

"What happens when you try and tell him?"

"I get all choked up like my voice won't work and nothing comes out and then I shout because it's frustrating."

"When you get these thoughts, how do you deal with them?"

"I just have learned that they won't go away so now they're part of my life all the time."

"I think we need to find some healthy ways for you to cope with them, Remington. You draw a lot, don't you? How does that make you feel?"

"Calm, mostly. Unless I fuck up, then I just hate myself more."

Abigail hums. "How about therapeutic colouring? Have you ever tried that?"

"Not really."

"Okay. Let's try that and see how it works. I want you to buy yourself some colouring pens and a therapeutic colouring book, okay? I don't care what's in it. Animals, architecture, faces, whatever. Get whatever you like. When you feel overwhelmed by these thoughts, get it out, do some colouring. Focus on the colours and the shapes and you might find that the thoughts begin quietening down."

"Okay," Remington mumbles, "what about the scratching?"

"I'm hoping the colouring will help with that, too."

"Will I ever just be normal?"

"What's normal in your mind?"

"Happy," he says, looking up at her. "Will I ever just be happy?"

"I think so. This stage of recovery is the hardest and you're not expected to be finding it fun or easy, just as long as you're doing the best you can. You'll find that you'll get to the top of the mountain and things'll start feeling more manageable once the uphill climb is over."

Remington just sighs.

"Tell me how your eating's going."

"Fine," he mumbles, "I feel like a fat fuck up." He plays with his fingers. "I just don't see how it's ever gonna get better when I just keep feeling worse. I'm sick of being the skinny one but I also don't wanna not be the skinny one and I'm sick of wanting to die but I also do wanna die, and I just...I wish I could turn it all off."

Andy isn't home when Remington gets back, so he runs himself a bath and sits in the warm water, half wanting to fall asleep and drown.

When Andy returns home, he finds his husband in the bath, frowning when he dips his hand in. "It's cold, sweetheart. How long've you been here?"

Remington rubs his eyes. "Dunno."

"Come on, let's get you out before you fall asleep and drown. Is that the goal here?"

"Mhm."

Andy shakes out a towel and holds it for Remington. "Are we having a bad day?"

"Mhm."

"Come on, kitten, stand up."

"Don't wanna."

"If I were to say I'll make a blanket fort, will you wanna then?"

Remington shakes his head. "You know that fairy book from tour ages ago?"

"I do."

The boy yawns. "Will you read it to me?"

Andy smiles. "'course I will."

"In a blanket fort?"

"You got it."

Remington smiles, finally, for the first time today. "And make me hot chocolate?"

"Absolutely."

"And put a onesie on?"

"Sure, onesie."

"And," the boy goes on, "buy me a therapeutic colouring book?"

"You're gonna have to write all these down," Andy teases.

"Please?"

"You know I will, sweetie. But only if you get out that bath."

"But I don't wanna."

Andy chuckles. "I see. Looks like I won't be reading you the fairy book, making you hot chocolate-"

"I'm getting out," Remington announces, standing up.

"You're fucking adorable. Here, towel. Lemme get the onesies."

"I want the pink one," the younger decides, wrapping the towel around himself. "The pink one makes me happy."

Andy kisses his head. "I will get you the pink one."

"You could just be naked if you want," Remington says, winking stupidly. "Naked Andy makes me happy."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or just concerned."

"Both? But it's not my fault your body's perfect." He pushes wet hair from his forehead.

Andy smiles.

"How many calories are in hot chocolate?"

"I don't know because it doesn't matter."

"Yes it does."

The older shakes his head. "Nope."

Remington steps past the man and walks to the bedroom, turning to look at Andy with a grin.

"What?" The older asks, amused.

"Nothin'."

"You're odd."

"I know."

Andy follows him to the bedroom, pushing him gently onto the bed and hovering over him.

Remington smiles up at him, prodding his cheek. "Can we stay like this forever?"

"Mhm."

"I like your face."

"I like your face." He pokes Remington's nose. "And I like your voice," he goes on, touching the younger's lips. "I like your hair. And your pretty eyes, and your pretty mind, and your-"

"Shut up."

"Knew you were gonna say that."

Remington smiles. "Blanket fort now?"

"Absolutely."