Trigger warnings: Mentions of eating disorders, substance abuse.

Two days after finding out about the camera in Abigail's office, Remington calls her while Andy's performing.

"Hi Remington," she answers.

"I just-I wanted to tell you something."

"You need to know I'm not a therapist anymore before you tell me anything," Abigail says, "I'm still more than happy to talk with you, but if you're not comfortable with it, that's okay."

Remington opens the door to the bus and steps on. "I don't only trust you 'cause you're a therapist. I mean...that helps. You know stuff. But, like, you still know stuff even though you're not technically a therapist anymore, so..." He sits on the couch. "Point is, I know you'd never do shit to expose anything I tell you and I don't wanna not be talking to you, y'know? I might die."

Abigail smiles. Part of her was afraid she might scare him off. "What'd you wanna tell me?"

"I'm relapsing," he begins, automatically lowering his voice. "Like-real bad. And I knew it would happen, remember? I said it would."

"I remember."

"But I-but I didn't think it would be this bad."

"When did it start getting bad?"

"I don't know. Yesterday morning I, like, noticed it properly, if that makes sense?"

"How are you feeling now?"

Remington sighs. "Scared," he admits.

Abigail wishes she could hug him. "Have we had something to eat recently? Or are we running on an empty stomach?"

"Second one."

"Okay. Can you have something now?"

The boy whines. "Don't want to."

"I know," Abigail says gently, "but you've done great to tell me you're struggling and you know I can't let you go hungry." She pauses, gives him a moment to process, and then continues. "And it's okay to feel like you can't face it, but I don't think you'll feel okay if you don't push through it and have something. It's not nice to feel like you might collapse, is it?"

"No, but..." he sighs, "but it's not nice to eat 'nd what if I'm sick?"

"Because it makes you feel sick or because you'll make yourself sick?"

"Don't know." He rubs his eyes. "Second one."

"I need you to have something, Remington. I'll stay on the phone and you can tell me how the tour's going."

"How much do I-how much do I need to have?"

"Tell me what's there."

Remington gets up, opens the fridge, recites what's inside.

Abigail waits for him to stop before suggesting he makes a ham sandwich.

He puts the phone on speaker and listens to her talking about a book she's just finished reading as he carefully spreads butter on the bread and layers ham and lettuce on it. "I made it too big," he tells her.

"That's okay. We can eat it in little bits, okay? Are you comfortable with putting the video on?"

"Mhm."

"Let's do that. Prop your phone up somewhere and tell me about tour."

Remington does as she says, using a mug to hold his phone up and turning on the front camera. He sits at the little table.

"Let's have a little bite," Abigail encourages, watching him hesitantly pick up the sandwich and, with uncertainty, take a bite. "That's great. You're doing great."

The boy covers his mouth with his hand.

"Your bus looks fancy."

Remington nods. "It's shiny," he says quietly, "'nother bite?"

Abigail smiles. "Another one just like that."

"'kay," mumbles the boy.

"Which city are you in now?" Abigail asks, trying to distract him while he eats.

"Uh...Glasgow."

"What do you think of Glasgow?"

"Too cold." He hesitates and then takes another bite.

"You're doing really well," Abigail tells him, "how's it taste?"

"'s okay."

"That's good."

Remington nods. "Sorry," he mumbles.

Abigail shakes her head. "No need for that. I'm proud of you for asking for help. You're doing really good."

"Sorry 'bout your job."

"It's okay, I'll be just fine."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Remington yawns. "'m okay now," he says, "I'll call again if I need to."

"Okay Remington, I'll talk to you soon. Let Andy know how you're doing, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Look after yourself."

"I'll try."

Andy finds he has to up his dose of heroin for it to do the same thing. He realises it's probably not a good thing but can't bring himself to care. Sebastian calls him again after the show, tells him what's going on with Emerson, that the drummer won't even talk to him. Andy suggests he makes him go to hospital and quickly hangs up when he hears Remington. "You disappeared," he says to the boy, absently bringing a hand to Remington's hair.

"Called Abi," Remington says, "had somethin' to eat."

"That's good. How's Abigail?"

"Lost her job."

Andy frowns. "I bet it was Phoebe," he ponders out loud.

Remington looks at his eyes, thinks he sees something slightly off in them, but can't place it. "You're probably right."

"I'm always right."

"Sure you are." He smiles. "How was the show?"

"Really good. Oh, have you heard anything from your friend? Marcus, is it?"

"Yeah, Marcus," Remington says, then sighs.

"Oh no, did he do something?" He puts his hands to his husband's shoulders.

"I just haven't heard from him since tour started."

"No?"

Remington shakes his head. "I just thought I finally could talk to someone who really got it, y'know? But, I dunno, I guess he just doesn't like me."

"You can talk to me."

"I know, but..." He looks down, regretting the conversation. "But you don't get it the same way someone who has it does."

"So you're saying I don't help?"

Remington shakes his head quickly. "No, not at all."

"Okay," Andy says, though isn't so convinced. "Come shower with me?"

"Will you fuck me?"

The man raises an eyebrow, puts fingers underneath Remington's chin and gently lifts his head to meet his gaze. "If you want," he whispers, "it has been an awfully long while."

Remington nods. "Yes please."

"You got it, princess," Andy says, pulling him into the bathroom and wondering how long he'll be able to last with all this pressure put on him by everyone he's close to - Sebastian constantly calling for help with Emerson, Remington spiralling into a relapse, fans wanting longer sets and pictures afterwards - before he snaps and does something that'll inevitably suggest insanity. Or worse, hurt someone.

if you know, you know (: