Trigger warning

As soon as they get to the hospital room, Remington kneels down by the bed and takes Andy's hand, being careful not to touch the bandage. They were told that Andy woke half an hour ago and was checked over. He's okay. Exhausted, but okay. He went back to sleep just ten minutes before they got here and is still asleep now.

Sebastian and Abigail look at one another, relieved, as Andy slowly opens his eyes, groans  quietly, and rubs a free hand over his face. He closes his eyes again because it's too bright and Remington wipes tears from his own brown ones. "Andy?" He utters.

The man makes a noise, clearly feeling weak and vulnerable. "Remi, 's that you?"

"It's me, darling. It's okay now. I'm here." He strokes his husband's cheek with his knuckles gently.

Andy squints his eyes open. "I'm so sorry," he whispers.

Remington shakes his head and softly pushes Andy's black hair from his forehead. "You're okay, baby, it's okay."

"Come lie with me, okay? I could really use one of your hugs right about now."

"'course," Remington smiles, lifting the covers up and sliding in beside Andy. "You scared me," the boy whispers, pulling Andy carefully into his arms. "I thought you were gone." He runs a hand down the older's back. "I'm so glad you're okay."

It makes Andy feel so loved; the way Remington is holding him. "I'm sorry. I didn't wanna hurt you. You know that, right?"

The boy holds Andy close because he knows he needs it. "I know."

"I should've told you what was wrong."

"Darling, it's okay. Go to sleep. You're tired."

Remington ends up falling asleep, too, and Sebastian and Abigail go to get coffee from the vending machine.

The guitarist sits on one of the chairs in the waiting room with a heavy sigh. "It's been a weird day," he says, "you have no idea how relieved I am. I was so fucking scared that Andy wouldn't wake up."

The woman sits next to him. "Me too."

"Thanks for helping today. You've made it so much better, specially for Remington."

"No worries. I'm glad you called. I'm gonna find Andy a therapist, okay? Remington keeps talking about him in our sessions and I think Andy needs someone to talk to the same way that Remington does."

Sebastian smiles. "I think you're right. Thank you."

"You're a good brother, Sebastian."

"I do hope so."

Abigail sips the coffee. "I really hope things get better for Andy. He seems like such a good person."

The man hums. "He is. He's been a rock these past years."

"I should go, Sebastian. I don't wanna intrude anymore than I already am. Give me a call if you need anything, okay? I'll make sure Andy gets the help he needs and that Remington talks about all this with me tomorrow."

"Thankyou so much. We're lucky to have you."

Abigail stands up and smiles at the guitarist. "See you later," she says, and leaves the building.

When Sebastian returns to the room, his brother and Andy are still sleeping, and he sits down with a magazine, texting Emerson.

Andy's okay. They're asleep atm.

Oh thankgod. I really thought he was dead.

I know. Me too. So did Remington. He's so relieved.

How's Andy?

He seems pretty out of it. Abigail's finding him a therapist. Where are you?

Got caught up with something. I'll come to the hospital soon.

Okay. There's no rush. Come tomorrow. Get some sleep now. 

The first of the lovers to awake is Remington, who carefully sits up and looks at Sebastian, visibly calmer than he was just three hours ago. "What's the time?" He asks quietly.

"Nearly midnight, bub. How're you feeling?"

Remington shrugs. "Better than before."

"Good. You stay here tonight, yeah? Andy needs you. I'm gonna go home. I'll be back in the morning."

"Okay."

Sebastian stands up and ruffles Remington's hair. "Sleep well, pumpkin. Your phone's on the side if you need me, okay?"

The boy yawns. "'kay." He rubs his eyes as Sebastian steps towards the door. "Sebby?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, bub. See you tomorrow."

Remington settles back down into the bed once his brother has gone, stroking Andy's hair when the man wakes at the movement. "Shh, go back to sleep," he whispers.

The older breathes out with a soft noise, moving his bandaged arm so it's resting on Remington's chest.

"You're okay. I'm here. Just sleep."

"I'm sorry," Andy whispers, repeating his earlier words.

Remington rubs his arm. "Shh, baby, it's okay."

"I just wanted to go," he murmers, "never wanted to hurt you."

Teary, the boy pulls Andy's head onto his chest, stroking his hair slowly. "I know, darling, I get it. You're not going anywhere, though, okay? I won't let you. I need you to stay."

Andy pushes his head into Remington's shoulder. He doesn't think he's ever felt so in need of physical comfort before.

"I know things feel impossible right now, and I know it feels like the only way to make it go away is by dying, but I promise that this isn't the way to deal with it. It will get better. That's what you always tell me. Now I'm telling you. It will get better. You need to live, Andy, for yourself. And for me. Because I need you."

The man heaves a breath. "How do you do it?"

"Do what, darling?"

"Get through it."

Remington kisses Andy's hand. "When it gets really bad, I do it for you, and for my brothers. When I don't think I can live for myself, I live for someone else. Go to sleep, okay? You'll feel better in the morning."

Andy presses himself into his lover, just grateful for having the love of such a gentle, understaninding person.

"I love you, doll. Don't you forget it." He reaches for the glass of water that's by the bed. "Here, have some water and then go to sleep."

The man weakly sits up and takes the glass, swallowing the cool liquid and settling back down onto Remington with a yawn. "I'm sorry I shouted at you."

Remington shushes his husband. "Don't be silly. Sleep. I love you."