Trigger warning also self promo if you haven't, you should go follow me on spotify, my name's Tessa Knowles on all major music streaming platforms. :)

Remington Leith: Greece is beautiful! Andy got sunburn on the first day hahah. Expect my story to be full of photos :)

Remington's sitting by the pool with his legs dangling into the water as he posts the photo that he took of the beach yesterday, putting his phone down beside him and exhaling. He's wearing a black tank top and a pair of shorts that are Andy's because he didn't bring any of his own, kicking his legs in the chlorinated blue water. "How's that sunburn doin'?" He asks, turning to look at Andy, who's lying under a sun umbrealla on a towel with just shorts on.

"Eh, not too bad."

The boy hums, squinting and looking back at the glistening pool. "Did you put sun cream on today?"

"Yes, thankyou, I did."

Remington slides into the water with a soft splash. "Good. Come swim with me."

The older sits up and his phone starts ringing. "I will in a moment," he says, picking up the phone and answering as Remington dives under the water. "Hello?"

"Andy Biersack?"

"Yes?" He watches Remington resurface at the other end of the pool, tank top sticking to his body.

The woman on the other end sounds familiar. "I'm calling about Kacey Brennas (I can't remember if I already gave her a last name?)," she explains, and Andy frowns.

"What about her?"

"You remember she was fostered?"

The man hums, waiting for her to explain what is so important she has to interupt his holiday.

Before the woman talks again, there's a pause, and that only makes Andy think she's going to say something bad. "Her foster parents were in a car accident. They both died. We've been looking for someone new to foster Kacey for six days and no one wants her because everyone's after younger children."

"Okay," Andy says slowly, knowing where this is going and not liking it. He looks across the pool at Remington, who's taking the tank top off.

"We were hoping you would foster her, just until we find someone."

There it is. Those words. Another person thinking Andy will jump up to help them just because he's been nice to them in the past. He sighs. "I'd need to talk to my husband about it," he says, after a moment trying to figure out how to respond, "and we're in Greece right now. We will be for another nine days." 

"Think about it, okay, and call me back, ideally by tomorrow."

Andy wants to hang up and pretend the call never happened. "Okay, will do," he answers, and then he does hang up. God, the last thing he needs is to be looking after Kacey or thinking about being a responsible adult, or thinking about anything other than how he's desperately trying not to attempt suicide again. He wishes he could tell Remington how he's feeling, because he's not doing better than he was that day, but he doesn't even know where to begin. If Remington asked, then maybe he'd say something, but until that happens, everything is staying inside. It's easier that way, isn't it? Don't answer that. Andy doesn't want an answer to that. Not now, possibly not ever.

Remington leans on the side of the pool. "Who was that?" He asks, flipping wet hair back from his face.

The man shrugs and stands up. "Just Lonny," he lies, because he doesn't want to ruin Remington's mood by telling him who was really on the phone.

"Are you coming in now?"

"Yep."

They're in the pool for a good two hours, kissing, splashing one another, and perfecting underwater handstands. For lunch they have tomato soup and after, walk along the shore and up into the town. They look around the souvenire shops and Remington finds a dark red dress in a charity shop that he likes, and after trying it on in the little changing room, buys it.

When they return to the Villa, Andy is annoyed to find a message from the woman who called him earlier.

I need to know ASAP.

The man closes his eyes, pushes the heels of his hands into his temples. "I'm not a fucking charity," he whispers angrily, ignoring the message because he has no idea what he's supposed to type out in response. Let me enjoy my holiday. Does that sound rude? Fuck off, I'm too depressed for this shit.

He leaves the phone on the coffee table in the living room and wonders into the bedroom, finding Remington lying on the bed reading a book. Andy flops down beside him and the boy closes the book, smiling and rolling onto his back. "I think I used up all the hot water," he says, noticing how Andy's mood seems to have dropped. "You okay?"

"Mhm. What're you reading?"

"I think you were reading it the other day." On the last word, he yawns, deciding not to pressure whatever it is that's wrong out of Andy. Last time he did that Andy ended up in hospital and nearly dead.

Andy knows Remington is aware of something being wrong, and if he wasn't so scared of ruining his day, he'd say something about it.

As much as he wants to ask what's wrong, Remington doesn't, and instead sits up. "Come 'ere," he gently demands, opening his arms and resting his chin on the older's shoulder when Andy accepts the hug. "I love you," he whispers, "you beautiful human." Slowly, he lies back on the bed, Andy half on top of him, and rubs the man's back. "You really are beautiful, darling."

"Shh, you're making me blush."

Remington smiles. "Good. Blushing is good." His fingers are in Andy's hair and the man exhales, obviously with something bothering him. "You are okay, yeah? You're not gonna...are you? 'cause if you are, Andy, just tell me. Please. I can't let you go through that again."

"I don't know," Andy admits quietly, "I wish I did but I don't. But I promise that I will tell you if I-when I think I need to go, okay? I will come straight to you. Even if we've had a little fight or it's the middle of the night. I promise."

"If you break that promise I will actually kill you," Remington threatens, "I know how to swing an axe."

Just as Remington wanted, Andy breathes out a soft laugh.

"You're too special to be going anywhere. And I need you."

"I need you, too. I'm gonna go have a shower." The older sits up. "Don't worry, I'll shout if I need you. Promise."

Remington, nodding, picks up the discared book. "'kay. Love you!" He calls after his husband, Andy calling it back as he leaves the room.

In the bathroom, Andy turns the shower on and sits on the toilet seat, looks down at the scar on his wrist, and sighs. He gets his phone from where he left it earlier, closing the bathroom door behind him and calling his therapist because surely she'd be able to give him some advice on what the hell to do.

"Hi Andy," the woman answers, "everything okay?"

The shower is loud beside him and Andy rubs his eyes with his free hand. "I need some advice," he says, "I'm kinda stressing out."

"Sure, what's up?"

"Okay, so, you remember I told you about Kacey?"

"The girl who you nearly adopted?" Sloane asks, wanting to be sure.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I remember."

Andy pauses for a moment. Is it wrong to be asking her for advice and not talking to Remington about it? "The agency who deals with adoptions and stuff, they called me earlier. Apparently Kacey's foster parents are dead. They want me and Remington to foster her until they can find somewhere more permanent for her. And I don't know what to do because I can't look after a child, not now. I haven't even told Remington because he's so happy here and this would ruin his mood and I don't wanna do that."

"If you don't feel up to fostering her then say no."

"But I feel bad. I told her we were here for her and how is she gonna feel if we push her away for the second time?"

"You need to put yourself first. Fostering her is a huge responsibilty and if you aren't happy with the thought then you shouldn't do it."

"What if no one else will take her and she ends up thinking no one loves her?"

"That is not your problem," Sloane reminds him. "Look, you just tried to kill yourself and you're not stable and you know this. Don't put yourself in a position where you could potentially feel like the only way out is by attempting again. My advice, which is what you asked for, is to tell Remington, and say no to the agency. Kacey is not your responsibilty. Your mental health is your responsibilty and should come first."

Andy, eyes cast on his wrist, sighs. "What if I'm already thinking about attempting again?" The question is hesitant, fearful.

"Then we'll talk about it. Tell Remington how you're feeling and what's going on. Don't deal with it on your own. And if you are feeling suicidal, we can talk about it, okay? I don't want you feeling like that and not telling someone."

"Okay. I'll tell Remington. Thank you."

"Good. I'm just a call away if you need to talk."

"I know."

Maybe he shouldn't bring it up to Remington in the middle of the night. Maybe he does anyway.