Trigger warning: Mentions of self harm, depression, anorexia, the lot.

Hands over his face, Remington tries to calm himself down, to be stable. "I didn't want you to think-to think you couldn't talk to me," he stutters, wiping at his eyes. "You're not a burden, Andy, you're never-you're never a burden."

Andy wants a hug but knows he shouldn't ask for one, not now. "It's such a mess," he mumbles, ashamed of himself.

"I know," Remington says, "but it's okay. Messes can be cleaned up. We'll-we'll clean it up." He wipes his eyes again, tears soaking into the bandage. "Please just...you can't keep trying to pretend you're always okay."

"I know."

Remington frowns. "Promise you'll talk about things more."

Andy doesn't promise because there'd be no point. He'd break it sooner or later and they both know it.

"Or at least talk to them about it."

"Them?"

"Your band."

Andy puts his head in his hands. "That's the damn problem. They're not my band. They're not my anything anymore. They're just..." he trails off, not sure if what he's about to say is a good idea. It'd probably upset the boy.

"They're just what?" Remington encourages.

"They're just...they're making something of their lives and I'm right back at where I was before I even started the band." He sighs. "Look, it's gonna end in another fight if this conversation continues."

"Why? Why would it end in a fight?"

"Never mind."

"No, tell me."

Andy regrets saying anything at all. "Because," he starts, "sometimes I wish I'd gone with them and left you."

Remington has no words. He can't believe that he just heard that right.

"I don't mean it in a rude way, I just...fuck it. I don't think I can do what I want while I'm with you."

"Got it."

"I-"

"You don't want me. Got it. Go now."

Andy doesn't move.

"Go," Remington repeats, "you don't want me, you don't need me, so go. Find someone you do want and try not to break their heart, too." He pulls the covers up over his head and sinks into the pillow.

"No, Rem-"

"Go."

Andy couldn't go even if he wanted to. It's like the universe is physically making it impossible for him to leave the boy. "No," he says.

Remington has never wanted to disappear more than he does right now. "You've said all you needed to say. You don't want me, you don't need me, you don't care about me or yourself or anything other than one fucking band and if that's how you feel then go, because I don't want to know someone like that."

"Remington, no, listen."

"No."

"Listen for literally ten seconds. I will always want you and I will always care about you, but I also need-"

"Space. You need space. That's what everyone says. One second it's space, the next, you're halfway across the world and fucking some mentally stable rich guy who makes you call him daddy."

"Let me finish. I will always want you but I also need you to understand that, sometimes, I can't be happy with you if nothing else in my life is what I want. Maybe it's selfish, but it's how I feel and you told me to tell how I feel."

"And now you go," Remington says, not bothering to pull the covers off his head to see the man. "You go and you don't come back."

"Why won't you listen?"

"I am."

"No, you're not. I'm not trying to break up with you, Remington! I don't want that at all!"

"Well that's too bad. Fucking go. I should've cut deeper so we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"Don't fucking say that."

Remington scoffs. "So now you care?"

"You're taking this way out of proportion."

"Just fucking go."

"I'm not leaving you! That's not what I'm doing here!"

Remington kicks his legs because he's frustrated and confused. "Then what the fuck are you doing?" He frowns at the lack of a reply, taking the opportunity to continue talking. "You say all this shit about being here for me and then you go and say you basically are unhappy with me and don't want to be with me anymore, even though you're the one who asked me to marry you! So what's that about, huh? You just suddenly decided that I'm completely wrong for you?"

Andy groans in annoyance. "For God's sake, Remington! Will you stop taking everything out of fucking proportion?"

"Don't God's sake me! I'm not the one trying to break my husband's heart!"

"I'm not trying to break your heart!"

Remington laughs.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"What the fuck is your problem? I just nearly died and you're here telling me you don't give two fucks about me!"

"When did I fucking say that?"

"You didn't have to!"

The man stands up. "You know what, I'm done here. Believe what you fucking like, I never said that."

"Good! Bye bye!"

Andy opens the door with force and leaves, not sparing a backward glance at the boy. Have they just become one of those couples who fight all the time? Is that what they are?

Sebastian is just going to bed with his phone rings. He sees it's Andy and knows he's calling either because everything's fine or because him and Remington are still fighting. "Hi," he answers.

"Why is it going so wrong?" Andy asks, skipping the pleasantries.

"You're still arguing?"

"Yep."

"What about?"

Andy sighs. "I told him what was wrong and he took it way out of proportion."

"In what way?"

"Well he's convinced I'm trying to break up with him."

Sebastian yawns. "Can't you two work things out on your own?" He asks, not wanting to seem rude but also not in the right frame of mind to deal with it.

"We've been trying to."

"Look, Andy, he'll come around. I'm going to sleep." With that, he hangs up

The next morning, Andy having gone back to the hotel to sleep, Remington calls his therapist, sitting in bed, tired.

"Morning, Remington," Abigail greets, just settling in her office when he calls.

"D'you have time?"

"Twenty minutes or so, yeah. You okay?" She plumps the cushions on her couch.

"We had a fight."

"Oh no, what about?"

"He said he doesn't want me anymore."

Abigail frowns. "Did he say that exactly? Or something else?"

"Dunno, it's confusing."

"I know, you just do the best you can. I'm sorry, someone's at the door. One sec." She covers the phone speaker with her hand and opens the front door to her daughter. "Phoebe? I didn't know you were coming."

The girl pushes past her. "They've only gone and kicked me from the fucking band!"

Abigail sighs. It's not uncommon for Phoebe to rock up complaining about something. "Look, I'm on the phone. I'm sure if they kicked you out, it's for a good reason."

"You're not supposed to side with them!"

Abigail shakes her head. "I'm not siding with anyone. If you're gonna be here, please be quiet." She closes the office door behind her and talks into the phone. "Sorry, you still there?"

"Yeah," Remington responds, "it's fine."

"So he said he didn't want you?"

"Kinda."

"Kinda? What did he actually say?" She sits down.

Remington sighs.

"Is he there now?"

"No, I..." He looks down at his bandaged arm. "I cut myself real bad so I'm in hospital. Told him to go and he did."

"You cut yourself? Oh Remington, we were doing so well. Have you been feeling really bad recently?"

The boy yawns. "Was havin' good days but then we started fighting."

"Okay," Abigail says, "how do you feel about hurting yourself now? Do you regret it?"

"No."

"Do you regret not cutting deeper?" She asks, knowing how he thinks.

Remington hums.

Abigail covers the speaker again when the door bursts open. "Phoebe," she scolds, "you have to knock. You know that."

"You're not even talking to anyone right now."

"I'm on the phone. I told you. What do you want?"

"Would you kick me from the band for commenting on someone's weight?"

"Depends what you said. Can we have this conversation later?" She asks, agitated that Remington will think she's ignoring him.

"Well they did," Phoebe announces, leaving and slamming the door.

Abigail turns her attention back to the phone call. "Daughter's here," she says, "keeps interrupting. Sorry."

"I think I wanna die again."

"That's okay. Well done for telling me. I want you to do something for me, okay?"

"Do what?"

"Call Andy. Have a good talk with him. I'm sure you two can sort things out." She neatens the things on the table. "Talk to me about your thoughts right now. Is there anything you need to tell me?"

Remington looks down. "I feel like I just keep fucking everything up. And this band; they've put out an article that isn't true about me."

"You're not fucking everything up. It's okay to be having a hard time."

"And Andy's hurting too and every time we try and talk about it, we end up arguing."

Phoebe, again, bursts into the room. "I was just saying what we could all see," she explains, not giving Abigail a chance to get a word in before her. "This guy, he was trying to give us advice and I said, because it's true, that he's obviously too thin to be healthy. And then he went all psycho and yelled some shit about never having the respect of a woman."

"I would've kicked you out for that," Abigail says simply, and then, "this guy...what was he called?"

"Remington I think. Why?"

"Oh fuck."