Chapter 96
We nearly at 100 chapters how many do y'all want me to go on for? Stop at 100? 120? 150? 200? Lemme know
Trigger warning: mentions of eating disorders, substance abuse, PTSD
When Abigail arrives at the hotel, there's a small group of people by the lift. She passes the reception desk and approaches the crowd. "You're in the way," someone's saying, two large suitcases either side of them, a woman just behind with a baby in a pram. Abigail stands on her tip-toes to see who they're talking to. Sure enough, as she suspected, it's Remington, sat in the corner of the lift with his hear clamped in his hands. She can see him shaking from here.
"Hey," she shouts, "you're scaring him."
Everyone turns and looks at her.
"Give him some space," she says.
"He's been there for twenty minutes and we need the lift," an obviously frustrated man returns.
"You can wait two more minutes, then, and step back." She pushes someone to the side and gets through what she can only assume is a family starting their holiday. "Remington," she says gently, crouching in front of him. "It's just me, it's mum. Can you look at me?"
The boy whimpers. "She's-she's here..."
"She's not here, it's just me and those idiots."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
He lifts his head. "Can't get up," he whispers, "too dizzy."
"Is it okay if I touch?"
Remington nods, extends his arms so she can pick him up. He leans into her while she carries him out of the elevator, mumbles that he needs to go to hospital.
"Why's that?" Abigail asks, carefully putting him down so she can unlock her car. She holds his shoulder while she opens the door for him, in case he feels faint.
"Andy's there," the boy says, sitting in the vehicle and looking at his shaking hands. "Overdosed."
The woman plugs him in. "D'you know which hospital?"
He shakes his head, rubs his eyes.
"It's okay, we'll find the one."
Remington looks down. "Sorry," he mumbles, "for making you-making you come get me."
Abigail shakes his head. "Let's not apologise for asking for help, alright? There's no need for that." She closes the door without letting it slam, getting in the other side and starting the car. "Why are we dizzy?" She asks as she's pulling out of the carpark. "Is it because we're overwhelmed or because we've not been eating?"
The boy shrugs.
"Both?"
"Sorry."
"No no, it's okay, I just want to help you. There's a hospital just up here." She glances at Remington. "When did we last have something to eat?"
The boy doesn't answer. He wouldn't know what to say even if he were to answer. He stays quiet until they get to the hospital, where Abigail offers her hand while they're walking in. She asks the receptionist if there's anyone here called Andy Biersack, says Remington's his husband. He's asked for ID and is then taken to a room like any other, where Andy is sitting in bed. He perks up when he sees Remington.
"Are you okay?" The boy asks quietly.
Andy nods.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Please don't take any more."
Andy sighs. "It's not that easy," he mumbles.
Remington looks down. "I know."
"But I'll be okay, okay?"
"I don't believe you," the boy says, "just come home."
"Rem-"
"How will you be okay, Andy, after you've just overdosed on dodgy drugs and are about to fucking do it again if you don't stop? How am I supposed to believe you'll be fucking okay?" He twists his ring on his finger. "I just-Andy, I know we're kind-we're kinda going through something, but I-but you still are important to me and I still-I still love you the same."
Andy looks at his lap.
"If you really won't come home then will you let me hug you?"
"Whoever said I wasn't letting you, huh?" He smiles. It seems like the first time he has for the whole tour.
Remington's eyes, which look to big for his face, widen.
"I just didn't wanna scare you again, sweetheart. I haven't been intentionally avoiding hugs." He pokes at the IV in his hand. "Did you think I was?"
"Don't know. Confusing." He plays with his fingers. "Sorry."
"Give him a hug," Abigail encourages.
Remington looks at Andy and then at Abigail, who nods. The hug makes both of them cry. Neither of them have had one since the whole ordeal after that show. Remington sits on Andy's lap and leans into him and wraps his arms around his neck, playing with the man's hair. Andy presses his face into Remington's shoulder and tries not to think about the bones he can feel through his clothes. "I'm sorry," he mumbles, "I really fucked up."
"I forgive you," Remington whispers, "I know you weren't in your right mind."
"I wasn't in any mind."
"Andy, I'm worried."
"I know."
"I don't want you to feel like-like drugs are the only way. They're not. They're not the only way."
"I know."
"And I-and I know I made you wanna die but-but please don't. Andy, please don't die."
Andy breathes in heavily.
"Please?"
"You have to promise me the same."
Remington doesn't respond.
"You have to start eating again, kitty."
"I can't."
"I should've been more on top of it. You told me you were relapsing and I tried to drug you instead of actually helping like you needed."
"'s not your fault."
Andy shakes his head. "It's not anyone's fault, but that doesn't mean I'm not responsible for some of it. I promised I'd help and I didn't."
"Andy..."
"If you're going home, sweetie, please don't stay on your own. You know you'll only spiral."
"Then-then come with me," Remington murmurs, "please."
"I can't. I need to get to the end of tour."
"Fuck tour."
"I promise I'll be okay, kitty, but you need to be okay, too. I can't come home to your funeral."
Remington sniffles.
"Go to hospital," Andy says, "let them look after you. You're so fragile." He draws fingers up Remington's back. "It's gonna be okay if you do that, it's all gonna be okay." He looks at Abigail. "And I'll come home safe and sound and we can watch that film you like and have popcorn in a blanket fort and you can tell me about how you're brothers are dicks and we'll laugh at things that no one else finds funny because that's what we do, sweetheart. We'll get through this shit but only if you get yourself help, okay? Do that for me."
"For you," Remington whispers, "okay."
"Good boy. Now are we on kissing terms or no?"
"Yes please."
Andy gently lifts Remington's head, strokes his cheek. He kisses him carefully.
"I love you," Remington whispers.
"I love you too," the man whispers back, "and it's gonna be okay."
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