Trigger warning

Today, it's Emerson who sits in the hospital room with his brother, keeping in mind what Andy told him earlier. That Remington is in a foul mood and keeps picking fights between them for no apparent reason. The drummer brings a book with him to read and when Remington  talks, he looks up from the page.

"Did Andy send you?" Remington asks spitefully, saying the man's name like it's an ugly word.

"What's going on between you two?"

The boy shrugs violently. "Nothing. What has he said?"

Emerson frowns. He doesn't like knowing their arguing. "Just that you keep fighting with him."

"He keeps fighting with me, actually."

"Alright then," Emerson mumbles, giving up on trying to talk to the singer about it. Clearly there's something wrong and clearly he doesn't want to talk about it.

Andy rings Sloane's doorbell, stepping in when she opens the door and welcomes him inside. "Sorry I'm late," he says, "I had to pull over 'cause I was crying."

The woman closes the door behind him. "I'm sorry to hear that. Do you wanna tell me about it?"

"Well..." He looks down and sighs, trying not to cry again. "I think my marriage is falling apart."

"Why's that?"

"Remington's just-I don't know-mad at me for no reason. I don't even know what I've done wrong and everytime I try and ask him he just gets angry again. I know he's struggling with his own shit, but..." He wipes a tear from his cheek. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just overreacting." He sighs. "I'm trying to be there for him because I know he needs someone but he's making it so hard and I don't know what I'm suppposed to do. Like...is it me? Did I do something?"

"He's in hospital, right?"

Andy nods.

"He most likely isn't stable, Andy. You need to bear that in mind."

"He is unstable, I know that, but it still hurts. I thought he'd tell me if I've done something wrong. I though he trusted me but-I don't know-maybe he doesn't." He looks down "I'm trying to be there for him, because I know he needs someone. That's just-that's how he is. He always goes downhilll when he's on his own. And I know that and I don't want that to happen, y'know, but how am I supposed to be there for him when everytime we're in the same room he starts shouting at me for something that I haven't even done. Like...the other day he accused me of wanting to rape him, which is ridiculous and I never would ever do that, to anyone, and he knows that. I don't know if he's just paraniod, or..."

Sloane, with a notebook and a pen in hand, leans forwards. "How is this making you feel?"

"Like he doesn't love me anymore, and I can't deal with that. I've never had anyone love me like he di-does. I can't lose that."

"What do you think would happen if you we're to lose it? How would you handle it?"

Andy shrugs. "I wouldn't? I'd just...learn to live with the fact that the only person I've ever wanted to actually spend all my time with doesn't want me and I'd never be happy again." For a moment, he pauses, sighs, and then talks again. "It'd be better if I at least knew what I've done to make him so upset, because then I could actually know how to sort it out, but he won't talk rationally to me and I'm kinda losing it." The man sighs. Perhaps he's just making a big fuss about nothing and everything is actually fine. Who even knows?

"Is he only arguing with you? You've not been able to have any usual conversations recently?"

"No, well-he sent me a few texts saying how he was gonna 'try something' if I left, so I stayed, but then the texts stopped and he kept shouting at me to go."

"Okay. You need to not jump to conclusions, Andy. I understand that you're scared, and that's okay, but overthinking it and convincing yourself that the marriage is falling apart is only gonna make you feel worse."

"Yeah, I know, but I can't help it. Remington is-like-my favourite thing in the whole world and the idea of losing him is fucking scary."

"I completely get that, but thinking about it like you are is just making it worse for you. Is there something you could do to take your mind off it?"

All Andy does to answer is shrug, again, instead of telling her that he already tried something, but it didn't work. Sloane notices how he's got a hand on his arm and the man talks. "I could go to the studio with my band. We were in the middle of recording when Remington collapsed." He says it as though he isn't even acknowledging the fact that he's obviously cut himself and that his therapist clearly knows. "But then I'd feel bad for being there while he's in hospital, so...I don't know."

"You should do that," Sloane says, "don't sacrifice your career for him all the time, Andy. You matter just as much as he does."

"Sometimes it doesn't feel like that."

"I know. That's okay. You don't have to feel good all the time. You just need to know that even when you feel down and hopeless that you matter just as much as when you're feeling like the happiest man on earth. Make sense?"

Andy nods. "Yes, but I only feel like the happiest man on earth when Remington's happy, too, and what if I'll never get to see that again?"

"You're spiralling, Andy. Take a nice deep breath and remember that you two are in love and married and you're young. Arguments happen and they pass."

"But what if this one doesn't pass?" He asks, ignoring the instruction to take a deep breath.

"Let's slow down, okay? I need you to take some deep breaths for me, close your eyes, just take a moment to calm yourself because you're shaking and we don't want you to have a panic attack." She crosses her legs as Andy leans back into the couch and does as she says. "This will pass," she reminds him.

Sebastian walks into the hospital room to Remington shouting at their little brother about something that would never normally make him angry. "What the hell is going on?" The oldest asks, closing the door behind him, handing Emerson a cup of coffee, and waiting for an explanation from the singer. "Well?" He prompts, looking at Remington, who raises a harsh eyebrow. "Care to explain?"

"Fucking fuck off," is Remington's response.

"Charming. Now tell me why you were shouting."

The boy, sitting on the bed, turns away.

The guitarist sends Emerson a confused and slightly amused look. "Hey Remington, I'm over here," he teases, and Emerson shakes his head at his big brother with a smile.

"I'm not a fucking child," Remington retorts, not looking at the man he's talking to because, and he would never admit this, but he's ashamed of how he's acting. He knows it's irrational and upsetting the people he's shouting at but it's the only thing he can think of doing.

"You sure are acting like one, bub. What's goin' on? You okay?"

"Fucking awesome, thanks for your brotherly concern. You can go now." He plays with the fabric of the gown between his fingers. "Go," he repeats.

Sebastian sits down instead of leaving. "Not gonna happen. Talk to me."

"Why would I wanna talk to you?"

"I'm gonna go," Emerson says awkwardly, typing out a message for Sebastian at the same time and texting it to him.

Gonna check Andy's okay. He seemed p sad before. Have fun

"Bye," Remington practically spits, "you know you can both go, Sebastian?"

"Like I said, that's not gonna happen."

"I don't need a babysitter!"

Sebastian shakes his head and Emerson opens the door. "I think you do, buttercup."

"Stop with the fucking pet names, will you?"

Emerson leaves and the door closes behind him, and Sebastian sips his hot drink. "You're a real bitch sometimes, you know that?"

"Good."

"Right. This is enough. You're acting like such an ungratefull ass, Remington." The boy laughs. "I mean it," Sebastian says sternly, "do you know that you made Andy cry when you shouted at him the other day? I found him in his car sobbing his eyes out because he thought he'd done something wrong and that you hated him. So pull yourself together. We are all trying to be here for you and we all have things going on and the way you're treating us is not fair, okay? It's not fair."

The words leave Remington almost speechless. "It's not my fault you're all so sensitive," he mumbles.

Sebastian puts the coffee down. "We have learned to adjust to you and your triggers and we all try so hard not to upset you, Remington. Why can't you just return the favour?"

"I never asked anyone to do that! It's not my goddamn fault!"

"All of this if your fucking fault, Remington, all of it! You're the reason you're in hospital. You're the reason that Andy is so upset. You're the reason so stop acting like you're not."

"But-"

"Don't start. You can't weave your way out of this by making me feel bad for you. It won't work."

Remington doesn't have a response.