Trigger warning

Abigail, cautious about not furhter angering Remington, pushes open the door and steps into the hospital room. Her presence always radiates calmness and safety and Remington loves her for that, though he would not admit that now.

The woman sits down. She can almost feel the underlying pain beneath the hard shell Remington has created. "Hi, Remington," she smiles, and the singer looks away. "How're you doing in here, hey? You okay?" She knows she won't get a response, at least not straight away, and this doesn't phase her. Abigail knows how Remington needs time to collect his thoughts and translate them into words when there's something bothering him like this

"I'm fine," Remington answers, finding it harder to lie to her than to his brothers. Something about her just makes him want to tell her everything.

Abigail crosses her legs. "I know that's not true." Her voice is soft, gentle, like she isn't at all phased by how cold Remington is acting towards her.

The boy sighs heavily. He doesn't know what to say but he talks anyway. "It was supposed to help," is what he says, and Abigail frowns, not sure what he's referring to.

"Okay. Can you tell me what you mean?"

Remington shakes his head. "Nothing. It doesn't matter." He closes up again, realising that telling her what he's on about will probably make him cry. He doesn't want to cry.

Aware of his tendancy to shut people out when something's wrong, Abigail knows not to give up. He's close to saying what's going on. She knows he is. "It does matter," she soothes, giving him time to think.

"I just need to keep going," he says slowly, "then he'll be free."

"Who'll be free?"

"No one."

The therapist sighs. "Can you tell me how you're feeling? What's your number?"

Remington tears up suddenly. Being asked for his number makes him think of Andy and thinking of Andy makes him cry. "I don't know. Something around forty, but...it's fine."

"Do you know why you're feeling so bad?"

He shrugs.

"If you weren't here would you attempt again?"

He nods like it's obvious.

"Okay. Do you wanna tell me why you're being so rude to your brothers and Andy? Have they done something to upset you?"

Remington shrugs again.

Abigail knows he needs to talk about it and that if she keeps gently pressing the issue then he will. "Who are you upset with? All of them or just one of them?"

"None," Remington whispers, ashamed, surrendering to her questions because if he's going to tell someone then it might as well be her.

"None?"

He nods.

"What's going on, then?" After asking, she takes her jacket off, folding it over her arm and putting it on the floor by the chair.

"It was supposed to help," Remington repeats, playing with his fingers.

Abigail watches him pull his knees up into his chest. Clearly he's in desperate need of some love. "Did it help?"

The singer shakes his head sadly.

"What were you hoping would've happened?"

Remington glances at her. "I don't know," he lies, "I don't-I don't know anything."

The woman takes a gamble and sits on the bed, not touching Remington, though it lets him know that, should he need some sort of physical contact, she's there. "It's okay to not know," she reminds him, despite being very aware that he does know.

The boy glances from his therapist to his hands and back again. "I want him to be happy."

"Who? Andy?"

He nods.

"Okay. Are you aware that you're not making him happy right now?"

Remington nods and rubs his eyes because he knows he's about to cry. "I know," he says, "I know."

"Do you think you can tell me what your thought process is for being so mean to him?"

"No, 'cause I-it's and fucking messed up."

"That's okay. I don't care what it is, I just need you to tell me so I can help you get that number a bit lower, okay?

"I-" he trails off as though he can't manage to talk anymore.

"How about a hug first, yeah?"

Remington nods gratefully, letting Abigail come to him and barely even bothering to hug her back. He ends up sitting sideways over her lap, head against her shoulder. "Can we just be quiet for a few minutes? My head hurts."

"Course we can. You tell me when you're ready. I'm not going anywhere." She strokes his hair and, for fifteen minutes, they're quiet, and Remington feels better with Abigail here.

When he thinks he's ready to finally tell her what's going on, he lifts his head up, rubs his eyes, yawns, and says, "thanks for being so gentle."

Abigail smiles warmly. "You ready to tell me now?"

"Think so."

"Good. Take it slow and if you need to cry, that's okay."

Remington sits up to stretch and then settles beside Abigail. "I want Andy to be happy," he begins, "and I-I thought that-well I don't think he'll ever be happy with me. I was being horrible because-he'll-'cause then he'll..."

"It's okay. Take a breath."

The boy does what she says because he trusts her more than he trusts himself in this situation.

"There we go. That's great," Abigail encourages, just to lift his mood if she can.

"I thought that if I was mean to him and made him sad and-and made him hurt more, then he-he'd-he'd leave me. And if he leaves me then he would be-maybe he'd be happy, and I-he needs to-I need him to be happy, so..." He wipes his eyes and looks away in shame. "Told you it was messed up."

The older shakes her head with a sad and sympathetic face. "No, no, Remington. That's not messed up at all."

"It is," Remington insists, because part of him wants it to be. Maybe if he was messed up then Andy wouldn't want him and then Andy would be happy. "It is," he repeats, "say it is."

Abigail hears the desperation and realises this is something he's drilled into his brain. "It's not. It's totally understandable, I promise. Weldone for telling me, I know that wasn't easy. I'm gonna help you with this, okay?"

"What if he never forgives me? And-and my brothers? I was so mean to them, too. Oh God! I've fucked everything up so much!"

"Hey, Remington, look at me. It's okay. Breathe. They will understand. They love you and they will forgive you. Right now, you need to work on forgiving yourself. Can you do that for me?"

"They would all just be so much better without me!"

"No, don't you think like that. They need you. Come here. Have another hug. I'll talk to them for you, okay? Would that help?"

"Yes please," Remington answers, accepting her second hug. "I love you," he says, "I know I shouldn't say that 'cause you're my therapist, but I-sometimes the only person I can talk to is you and you make me always feel better. I just-I love you."

Abigail smiles. "I love you, too, you know that? You're special to me. I wouldn't sit on a hospital bed with any of my other patients."

"Do you think Andy will really forgive me?"

"I know he will," Abigail says.

But what if she's wrong?

You have no idea how much I'm smiling rn because of this plOt TwisT. bitches ur welcome.