Trigger warning.

Remington sits up in bed as Andy gets in beside him, and sighs. "I saw Alex again," he says suddenly, after not saying a word about it since Andy first asked what was wrong.

"Oh?"

The boy hums. "I just wanted you to know. That's all."

Andy lies down and Remington settles on his chest. "Did he talk to you?" Remington doesn't answer, and Andy reaches for the lamp, turning it off and returning his hand to the younger's hair. "Sweet dreams, princess, and if they aren't so sweet, I'm here to protect you."

A tired smile sits on Remington's lips. "I know," he mumbles, "you always protect me."

"Damn right I do." He ruffles his lover's hair and Remington whines.

"Stop," he complains, "don't like it."

Andy smiles. "Don't you?" He does it again.

Giggling, Remington digs his face into the man's shoulder. "I do actually," he admits, though Andy already knew that.

"I know."

The following day, Andy drives his husband to therapy, agreeing that after, they can go and see the cats in the animal rescue centre just out of town. He waits until Remington steps into Abigail's house before pulling out of her drive.

Remington sits on the couch and accepts a glass of water. "I saw Alex yesterday," he says after a moment, "from the mental hospital."

Abigail takes his notebook. "What happened? Did you talk to him?" She flips through to the recent pages while Remington tells her about the encounter.

"He bumped into me the day before, as well. He is desperate to be in my life and I don't want him in my life. He scares me."

The woman glances up at him. "He was the reason you were sent home early, yes?"

Remington nods. "Yep, and I did tell him a lot that I didn't like him and he didn't listen." He puts the glass down. "Anyway, yesterday, he wouldn't leave me alone and I kept telling him to go and he didn't. He said that I wasn't really abused because apparently men can't be abused, and then I screamed at him."

"Were you on your own when this happened?"

Again, he nods. "I was meant to be having lunch with Andy, Lonny and Em, but I got a bit-I guess-worked up, and went for a walk to calm down. I was calm until he turned up." He takes the book back. "I had to call Andy to get me."

Abigail notices how calmly he's talking about it, even despite it being a distressing situation. A year ago, he'd probably have been shaking and crying about it. "Okay. First, men can be abused and he has no right to say they can't. Second, you did the right thing going for a walk when you felt worked up. That's a good way to calm yourself."

"People keep saying men can't be abused and it just-it kinda makes me feel pathetic for being so affected by-by Holly." He looks down, mood dropping at the thought of it. His mood drops easily.

"You're not pathetic," she says simply, firmly.

Remington doesn't look up. "It's just that if so many people say it, then are they-are they right?"

"Answer this for me, Remington. Were you in a relationship that made you feel trapped? Were you being hurt?"

The boy nods slowly. "Yes," he answers.

Abigail hums. "Right. You were in an abusive relationship. You were abused. It doesn't matter what anyone else says about it, Remington, you experienced abuse and no one else has the right to tell you otherwise. You were the one trapped in the relationship, and only you experienced the awful things she did to you. No one else. So don't let other people tell you that you're wrong, because you're not wrong, Remington."

After a moment, Remington looks up at her. "It just feels like I am wrong," he murmurs.

"I know, and that's okay. You can't let it convince you that your abuse isn't valid, though."

Remington crosses his legs. "But what if it isn't?"

"I'm telling you that it is."

The animal rescue centre is a good half an hour drive away, and they stop for lunch on the way. Andy asks Remington about therapy and they share a piece of chocolate cake, which makes Remington feel like he might be okay. When they arrive at the animal centre, they walk in holding hands, and are greeted by a young man behind a wooden desk, with leaflets about pet food and anti-flea spray. "Good afternoon," he greets brightly.

Andy is the one who talks. He always is when it comes to strangers, to save Remington the anxiety. "Hiya," he says, "we've come to look at cats."

The man smiles. "Of course, they're right through here." He leads them into a large barn-like room, with big cages on either side. "Do have a good look. All the cats in here have been brought in from abusive owners."

Remington involuntarily stiffens, and Andy squeezes his hand. "Thank you," the younger says, stepping towards a cage and looking in at the small, black cat, with white paws. "Oh my God, so cute!"

"I know you are," Andy teases.

"Shut up. Look at it, it's so cute!"

Andy chuckles. "You are adorable."

Grinning, Remington turns around and prods Andy's cheek. "I think I'm in love," he jokes, "with every single cat here. I want them all."

"We can't have them all. I don't need twenty five little angels sleeping on me when I've already got the best one of all."

Remington looks away with a light blush. "If you keep saying shit like that I might melt into the ground." He walks slowly around the room. "And anyway, I don't sleep on you that much."

Andy laughs. "Oh no, not that much, just every night."

"I'm gonna kill you."

"Can't wait. Here, look at this one." He pulls Remington towards him and puts his hands on the younger's shoulders. "You know, sweetheart, they're all awfully adorable, but I think you're cuter." He smiles at Remington's scrunched up face, and ruffles his hair.

Remington yawns. "I think I need to sleep on you again," he says, "because I can't fucking sleep at night apparently." He watches the cat in the cage and it makes him feel uneasy for some reason. Seeing an animal in a cage, even a nice, big, pleasant cage, makes him remember what it was like to be trapped in that house, with that woman. The cat is looking at them. Remington remembers how, every time he saw his brothers, he'd pray and pray that they'd notice that something was wrong. He hoped that he wasn't as good at lying as he knew he was. He had enough practice. She made him lie about everything. Sometimes he wasn't even too sure what was real anymore. Everything felt like one huge fucking nightmare. He watches the cat turn away from them, bored and no longer intrigued, and can't look away.

The animal is so small, so defenceless against human abuse. Remington was like that. He still is. He may be tall, but god, did she make him feel so small, like no one else could see him most of the time. He was begging for help for so long, through every text message, every song lyric he ever wrote, every time he camouflaged the bruises and the cuts with makeup. Everything was a cry for help, and no one heard.

He stumbles. Andy grabs him. "Are you alright?" The man asks.

Remington shakes his head. "I-I'm gonna be sick," he stutters desperately, a hand shooting up to his mouth.

"Okay, this way," Andy says calmly, hands on his shoulders as he guides him towards the entrance. "Is there a bathroom?" He asks the young man, who hastily shows them where it is. Andy helps Remington onto the floor in front of a toilet and rubs his back.

The boy leans over the toilet. "I really don't feel good," he mutters, and suddenly lurches forward, gagging hard.

Andy rubs his back as Remington is sick, and helps him off the floor once he's done, wiping tears from under his eyes and kissing his head. "I'll get you some water and we'll go home, okay? How do you feel now?"

Remington nods. "A lot better," he says, splashing water on his face straight from the cold tap. "I felt fine and then suddenly I didn't."

"Hey, it's okay. You're feeling okay now?"

"Yeah, I feel like normal."

Andy buys a bottle of water from the vending machine at the entrance, assuring the man at the desk that Remington is okay, and they get back in the car. Remington tells Andy what he was thinking about when he started to feel sick, and that it was probably the foul memories that caused him to throw up, though it does seem weird. He hasn't been physically sick because of his abuse for months.