Tint trigger warning.

To get Remington away from the house for the day, Andy decides to take him on a walk around the lake nearby with a picnic.

He packs it all and, on the morning of the walk, finds Remington crying with a shirt in his hands. "Oh, sweetie, what's got you so upset?" He asks softly, crouching in front of the boy, who's on the floor by the wardrobe.

Remington shakes his head. "I-this-this makes me look fat," he explains, showing Andy the white shirt.

"Now now, that just isn't true."

"It is," Remington argues, "it is!"

Andy strokes his cheeks and takes the shirt. "Is not, kitten. Come on, it's okay. You can find another shirt, okay?"

"Can I have one of yours?"

The man smiles. "'course you can. Come here, have a hug." He pulls Remington into him and they stay like that until his crying has stopped, and then Remington finds one of Andy's shirts to put on, liking it much better now that it's more baggy.

Andy kisses his head and tells him he's beautiful, because he really is, and the two go down.

The weather is nice. Not too hot that they're melting, but not so cold that they're shivering. They walk, hand in hand, beside the still lake, a few rowing bots gliding across the water further out. Remington is smiling. He hadn't realised how much he needed the fresh air. "I like it here," he says, "with you."

"Me too," Andy agrees, "so I looked online and there's a hostel just less than a mile away with public picnic benches and a little shop. How's that sound?"

"I like that idea," the boy beams, and looks at Andy with one of his adorable grins. Andy grins right back.

The picnic benches outside the hostel are nice. Well looked after and in the gentle sun. Andy and Remington settle on one that's just under a large tree, half in the shade, and sort out the things Andy packed this morning. There's a box of pasta salad without mayonnaise because Remington won't eat mayonnaise, a bottle of orange juice, and a few small things like olives and grapes. Not a lot because Andy knew Remington would feel over faced by it.

"You're the best," Remington tells his husband, who hands him a plate. "I swear, you're not even human. That's how perfect you are."

"Says you, angel."

"Devil," Remington argues.

"No."

"Devil."

Andy chuckles. He spoons on a small amount of the pasta onto Remington's plate, happy with how the younger picks up his fork and eats it without a fuss. Fresh air really has helped today. "So," he begins, "I've got a busy few weeks in the studio from next week."

"Okay. As long as you're not home late. I don't like sleeping on my own."

"Don't you worry, I'll be back before ten every night, okay?"

Remington hums. "Okay."

"Good. Look, over there, a cat."

"D'you think it lives here?"

Andy shrugs. "Probably. I don't know where else it'd live around here. Unless there's a farm."

"Didn't we walk past a farm?"

"Oh, I think we did, yeah."

Remington stands up. "I'm going to buy a drink from over there," he tells Andy, "want anything?"

"You choose me something. Do you have money?"

"I took twenty from your wallet this morning," Remington admits, "sorry?"

"No, don't apologise for that. We share everything, remember?"

Remington smiles. He checks for the money in his pocket before stepping over the bench he was sitting on and walking towards the little shop. After he has bought two hot drinks and a packet of salted peanuts, just as he's turning to go back outside, a little girl, around thirteen, runs past in tears. Remington frowns. He curiously follows where she was going, seeing that she went into the toilets and wondering if she's okay. The singer waits a few minutes and she doesn't come out, and he can still hear her crying, and then he calls into the bathroom. "Are you alright?" He asks, and gets no response. "I can hear you crying. Do you need your mum or dad?"

Then, after a moment, a small voice replies. "No!" She shouts, panicked at the idea of her parents. Particularly her mother.

"How about a hug?" It's a risk. Hugging strangers is not exactly something he would ever choose to do, but leaving a little girl crying in the bathroom seems somehow worse that a potential panic attack.

"What?"

"I can give you a hug if you need one."

The girl is quiet. The tears seem to have slowed. "Really?"

"Sure. You'll have to come out of there, though."

There's a moment where Remington thinks she won't come out, but then she appears, red eyed and helpless looking.

He frowns, not expecting her to look this sad. "Come 'ere, it's okay," he soothes, the way Andy does for him. "What's wrong? Can I help with something?" He is careful hugging her, wary of the hot drinks in both his hands.

She shakes her head. "Everything's gone wrong," she tells him.

Remington hears the familiar rattle of a pill bottle and begins to understand more what's going on. "Why's that?"

"I can't tell you," the girl says, "you wouldn't understand, and anyway, my mum would kill me."

"I'm sure I can try and understand. And what your mum doesn't know won't hurt her."

"Okay, well...I was just-I came to kill myself."

Remington swears he could start crying. Someone so young should not have to know what it is to feel the need to end their own life. "That's never the answer, sweetie. What's got you so down, hey?"

The hug separated and the girl shrugs. "Just life."

"I see. Where's your mum now? Does she know you came down here?"

"Smoking and swearing on the phone. She doesn't care. No one does."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. You see, I care. Do you wanna come sit with me and my husband for a bit? We were just having lunch. I'm sure you can have some if you like."

She looks up at him in surprise. "But...stranger danger," she whispers, "you might be a murderer."

"I'm not, I promise. How about I go back out to the picnic benches and you can have a think about it in here? Are you gonna go straight back in there and swallow all those pills if I leave you on your own?"

She nods.

"Okay. Give them to me, then. I'll take them with me. If you wanna come sit with us for a bit, we're just out there."

"Okay." She hands the bottle to Remington, who takes it with some difficulty because of the drinks, and leaves.

Andy looks up when Remington returns, eyebrow raised. "Where the hell d'you get those from?" He asks, "not gonna go overdose, are you?"

"No, no. a little girl in there was, though. Just took 'em from her to keep her safe. I said she could come sit with us if she wanted."

The older takes the container and keeps them away from Remington, who can never properly resist the temptation. "You're such a sweetheart. What'd you get me?"

"Coffee, but I can't remember which was which, now, so..."

They end up sharing the drinks and talking about what it would be like to be a cat, the conversation coming to a halt when the girl approaches. Andy looks at Remington, who nods and smiles. "Hiya," the older greets.

She smiles shyly. "Hi," she almost-whispers, "can I sit with you?"

"'Course you can," Andy answers, "I heard you were gonna overdose, huh? Everything okay?"

Sitting down, she shrugs. "My mum hates me," she says flatly, looking down.

"If you need someone to talk to about it, Andy's the best," Remington explains, "stopped me from killing myself more times than I can count. Help yourself, by the way."

"He's got a tendency to think suicide is what everyone wants him to do. So what's your name? I'm Andy, this is Remington."

"Suicide is what everyone wants me to do," Remington says, and then, "don't listen to me, I'm a depressed mess. Andy's your man all the way."

The girl smiles. She's never been in the presence of two people more in love in her life. "I'm Kacey."

"It's great to meet you, Kacey. What brings you to a hostel?"

"My mum lost her job and spent all her money on cigarettes and alcohol. We're homeless."

Remington glances at Andy before talking. "Oh no, that's awful. I'm sorry. Is there anything we can do for you? And please do have some lunch if you're hungry." He's poked in the arm by Andy, knowing why the man is amused by what he just said. "I know, I know, anorexic and talking about food. The irony."

"What's anorexic?"

Andy stays quiet. He knows it has to be Remington to answer. "An eating disorder. I'm terrified of gaining weight so I starve myself. It's kinda very bad."

"Oh, that sounds terrible."

"It is, but it's okay. I've got Andy. So, Kacey, tell us about you. How old are you? Favourite animal?"

Kacey accepts a plastic plate from Andy, who brought four with him because they are just what comes with the picnic set. "Fourteen," she says, "and I love cats. I always wanted a pet cat."

"We've got one," Andy tells her, "Jenny, Mouse killing machine."

"I found one in my doc marten yesterday," Remington announces, "stinks."

Andy laughs, followed by Kacey.

"Jokes on you," Remington goes on, "I put it in your pocket."

Andy raises an eyebrow. "You didn't."

"Yes I did. Have a look."

The man, disturbed, unzips both his pockets, faking a gag and pulling out a dead mouse by it's tail. "Oh my God, you are unbelievable."

"Just paying you back for that time."

"What time?"

"That time. Dunno. Just 'cause. There's a bin over there."

Andy rolls his eyes. "See what I have to live with?" He says to Kacey, who's laughing. "Real joke's on you, princess. I finished the orange juice."

Remington whines. "Fuck you. Oh shit. I shouldn't say fuck in front of a child. shit balls."

"Honestly," Andy breathes, chuckling, "I'm throwing this away. We're probably scaring poor Kacey."

"No, it's funny! And nice to be around people who care about each other."

Remington watches Andy walk towards the bin. "So serious," he calls after Andy, laughing when he gets the middle finger, and stabs another piece of pasta.