Trigger Warning: Anxiety, depression, mention of physical/emotional abuse, suicide mentions

"So, Andy," Abigail began. She was again in his hospital room. "You're going home this afternoon. How are you feeling about that?"

It was the fourth time talking to Abigail, and rather quickly, he had grown to trust her at least enough to admit his emotions in short sentences. "I, uh, I'm a little, uh, scared. I think. I don't know."

"That's a very normal response to something like this. Do you know why you're scared? Is there something in particular that's making you feel this way? Or is it just leaving in general?"

Andy played with his rings. He had been given them back that morning. "I think-I think I just-I don't know how to be, uh, on my own."

In understanding, Abigail nodded. "You've been under the control, of lack of a better word, of someone not very kind for a long time, it's natural to feel, now that you're free, that you aren't able to care for yourself the way you deserve. After being dominated in such a harsh way for so many years, the mind learns to change in order to better cope. Do you worry you might struggle to complete daily tasks on your own? It's not an easy thing to do after such a traumatic even, leaving the care of the hospital and returning to normality. There's absolutely nothing wrong with being uncertain of what to do with yourself."

"I...I can't really, uh, handle all the-all the stuff in me head."

"Okay. Do you know why that may be?"

"He always just...I always did what he told me."

"I'm sorry you had to live like that, Andy. But now I think it's important for you to allow yourself to feel whatever you're feeling. I understand it can be really difficult and overwhelming to handle our thoughts sometimes, but the more we start doing it now, the more comfortable we'll become with our way of thinking. Does that make sense? "

Pulling a ring all the way off his finger, Andy rolled it between his palms. He bit his lip in place of speaking, was again, as he had been almost constantly, yearning for a hug from Remington. After a few hours, he found, he would become rather desperate, and was surprised and relieved each time at his ability to act like it didn't feel like life or death when the artist had visited and asked if he wanted a hug. 

Something Remington had quickly learnt was that Andy found it a lot easier to accept help when he wasn't the one to bring it up, and so made sure to ask frequently if he needed anything. 

"It's okay, whatever you wanna say is valid and I'll do what I can to help you, no matter what it is," encouraged Abigail.

She reminded him in a way of Remington. "When I feel things," he started quietly. "When I do that, I-I can't-I can't stop thinking about-about dying. I, like, I just think that-that feeling is so much bad, so it's better to, uh, to not."

"Again, Andy, that's completely okay and valid and we'll work through it, okay? I know feeling like this can be really scary so it's really strong for you to be able to voice these thoughts. I'm proud of you. In terms of recovery, and I know that's a frightening word, talking about your worries and fears is a big step. You're doing really well and as you move on from this stage and return home, I think you would greatly benefit from continuing to see me. Is that okay with you?"

He nodded. There was definite apprehension about going home, even though he knew he was going to be staying with Remington at least for the first week. It was the first time that he would be in control of his life and what he did with it, because while he had been without Holden for some time before dropping the trial, this felt wildly different. Perhaps because he had received help for his mental state and so now had little reason to still be the man he was just those weeks ago, when he felt the need to plunge his head into a sink of water and fill himself with alcohol in the middle of the day. 

Once Abigail was gone, Andy had the last of the muffins that Remington had brought for him while considering what would come next. He'd have to address his fans at some point soon and apologise for his inactivity, would need to meet with his band to discuss getting back on track, would have a lot to solve. So many problems he had caused, so many things he didn't yet know how he was going to fix. In some ways, he worried he had made things worse by daring to reach for help, wondered where he would be now if he had stayed enduring Holden. 

Remington arrived to take him home in the mid-afternoon. His initial plan was to help Andy finish collecting his belongings and drive to a restaurant for an early dinner on the way back to his apartment, but when he closed the door and asked if the man was ready to go, Andy promptly burst into tears and pushed his face into his palms, shaking his head and bouncing his knee. 

Beside him, Remington sat on the bed and rested a hand on his shoulder, always cautious about how much contact was too much. "You know, I'd be scared, too," he said softly. 

Andy dropped one hand into his lap, wiping the wetness of tears onto his tracksuits. He shook his head and dragged his other hand down his face, bit on his knuckles. 

"You wanna talk about it?" Remington asked. "Oh baby, it's okay. Do you want a hug? It's okay. You're gonna be alright." 

Slowly, Andy leant into the younger and let him take most of his weight, took his hand from his mouth so it fell into his lap and found his other. Remington could see them shaking as he wrapped an arm around him and held him closer. Andy spoke then, stuttering over gentle sobs, "Thank you." 

"That's okay. You don't need to thank me." After a hesitation, Remington took one of his hands, held it loose so he could pull away. "You can stay with me for as long as you need, okay? I love having you around and I don't want you to be struggling alone. And you know if you ever need anything, you can come to me, yeah? I'll always do what I can to help you." 

Andy tightened his fingers around Remington's hand and closed his eyes. "Okay," he mumbled. "Thank you. Don't know where I'd-where I'd be without you." 

"I really hope you can get your life back. And there's nothing wrong with being scared of what happens now, I get scared all the time. We're all just human." 

Sniffling, Andy gave no response, but allowed himself the time to calm down before straightening up and blinking his eyes open. 

"Ready to go?" Remington asked now, still in a soft voice. "I thought we could go out for some food on the way back. But only if you want to." 

"Yes, please." 

Remington smiled and stood, picked up a small bag that was by the bed. "Alright," he said. "Let's do this. I'm so proud of you." 

Pile of books and comics in hand, Andy pressed an uneasy but genuine smile and followed Remington out of the room. He had no idea how he was going to handle the anxieties of everyday chaos.