I have a question, please let me know whether this is a good idea or not - so would anyone be interested in a prequel to this, starting with Holly and Remington meeting for the first time. It wouldn't be Remdy, but it would give you an insight into how their relationship developed, and how Holly manipulated and controlled Remington. Please say if you'd read this!

Also trigger warning, have fun!

Sebastian sits down opposite his little brothers and smiles. He is being released from prison in two weeks. "Hiya," he says, "any news to share?"

The youngest of them shrugs. "Not from my end." He looks briefly at Remington. "I mean he still isn't eating, but who cares about that?"

"Emerson, shut up." Sebastian sends the singer a gentle, sympathetic smile. The boy is looking less like he might suddenly collapse. "How are you doing, bub?"

Remington is grateful for Sebastian defending him from Emerson's thoughtless comment. "'m okay. And Em, I am eating. It takes longer than a few days to gain weight. I find it very upsetting when you say shit like that." He is keeping his voice calm, reminding himself of the conversation he had with Abigail yesterday. They talked about how Remington doesn't like it when people, mainly Emerson, comment on his weight and how he is still obviously underweight, and she told him to just calmly say how it doesn't help at all when someone says stuff like that, and that's what he's trying to do.

The drummer sighs. "Fine, I'm sorry. I don't like seeing you so thin, Remington, that's all. It's alarming."

"It's alarming for you, sure, how do you think it is for me? Not everything is about you, Emerson."

"Hey, you two, stop. Remington, I'm proud of you, don't let this little bitch bring you down." He only says that to bring the singer's mood up, which is does. "And Emerson, for the love of God, stop mentioning it. You didn't come to see me just to argue."

Emerson smiles because he knows Sebastian is just protecting their fragile brother. "Fine, sorry. I will try not to mention it anymore."

"Thankyou," Remington says, "I have some news."

"You better tell us then, bub."

Smiling, Remington twists his ring around, hands on the table. "Me and Andy got a cat."

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. "And it's still alive?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry, sorry. What's it called?"

Remington looks at his wedding ring and smiles. Every time he sees it he is reminded of Andy, and of how fucking adored he is by the perfect man. "Jenny," he says with a smile, "she doesn't like Emerson."

"She bit me," Emerson explains, and Sebastian laughs.

"You probably deserved it, Em."

Nodding, Remington leans back in his chair. "He totally did." He looks at his older brother with an unreadable expression, and they says, "I wanna hug you so bad."

Sebastian knows exactly how he feels. He'd give anything to hug the boy. "I know, bub, me too. Soon, I promise."

Remington sighs. "Sebastian, why did you-why did you drink drive? Was it-was it because of me?" His voice is scared now, worried that it's his fault that his dear sweet brother is in jail.

"No," Sebastian answers quickly, knowing that if he hesitates, Remington won't believe him. "I was so mad at myself for hurting you and I guess I just-I don't know. I can't really remember it."

The singer leans forwards. "Were you trying to kill yourself?" He asks, and it sounds as though he could burst into tears. That happens so easily.

"I don't know," Sebastian says, "maybe." He can't lie to Remington.

"I'm sorry," the younger apologises, and Emerson and Sebastian exchange glances, concerned. They both know how easy it is for Remington to spiral, to convince himself that he's the cause of something awful when he really isn't.

Emerson takes his hand. "You've got no reason to be sorry," he reassures, "are you okay? You're shaking." He has to tell himself to ignore how fragile and bony his hand feels. If he thinks about, he'll say something about it.

With a somewhat forced smile, Remington nods. "Yeah, I just didn't sleep well," he says, and it is the truth. "The nightmares have been bad since you've been here." He is looking at Sebastian now. "It just feels weird, not having you around all the time, not being able to call you when I need to talk to you. Sometimes I just-sometimes I just want my big brother." He pulls his hand from Emerson and pushes the chair back. "I-I need to go."

His brothers watch him walks quickly out of the building, and Emerson turns to Sebastian. "He'll be calling Andy. He always does when he gets like this."

"I know. How's he been?"

Emerson shrugs. "Okay, mostly. Andy takes good care of him. He has bad days, but doesn't everyone?"

Emerson is almost right. Remington texts Andy while leaning against Emerson's car.

Would you hate me if I asked you to come get me??

Andy responds pretty much instantly. He always keeps his phone with him in case Remington needs him.
If you think I could ever hate you, you're wrong. Are you still at the prison?

Yeah. so you'll come?

Of course I'll come sweetheart. Did you and Em fall out?

No, I just feel weird. Want your hugs.

Okay. I'll see you soon.

Remington waits outside, playing stupid games on his phone while sitting on the ground against Emerson's car, squinting in the sunlight. He sees Emerson approaching, and gives him a soft smile. "Andy's gonna pick me up," he says, "he should be here soon."

"Oh, okay. I'll wait with you."

The singer shrugs. "You don't have to, Em, I'll be fine. He'll be here in-like-ten minutes, anyway."

"You really think I'm gonna leave you in a carpark 50 miles from home?"

Remington looks away. "It's not like you haven't left me before, is it?

"Oh really? You want to talk about that?" He sounds unimpressed, annoyed.

The breeze makes the air feel cooler than it really is. "Yes, I do, because it was really fucking stupid of you. Might I remind you that I'm suicidal." It's not Remington's fault that he's reacting like this. Emerson should know better than to talk to him like this.

The younger man is standing opposite Remington, looking down at him. "Oh come on! It's not like you really would've jumped in front of a car."

"No? Wanna test that theory?" Remington stands up.

"What the fuck are you on about?"

"Well, Emerson, you don't believe that I'd ever jump in front of a car, so I'm gonna prove you wrong. That's what I'm on about." He begins walking through the carpark and towards the road.

Emerson runs to catch up to him. "Remington, this is ridiculous. You're ridiculous!" In hind sight, that might not have been the best word to use.

Not looking at his brother, Remington stops by the side of the main road, looking both ways down the street. "Oh, you wanna call me ridiculous? Fine! We can play that game! I might be 'ridiculous', Emerson, but at least I would never leave my brother at the side of a motorway in the rain for nearly an hour!" He pushes Emerson's hand off his shoulder.

"Shut up about that, for the love of God! You get so caught up in the past, it's no wonder you're suicidal!"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" His voice is loud, agitated, wounded.

Emerson doesn't even hesitate for a second. "What Holly did to you was more than two fucking years ago, and you act like it was last week! Yeah, she hurt you, but that doesn't mean you can use it as an excuse for everything! It's so fucking pathetic!" Pathetic, ouch. "I mean-why do you think that just because you were abused gives you the right to be all 'oh don't touch me or I'll scream? It's getting old, Remington!"

Remington turns and looks at Emerson, his face stiff, his fists clenched. "You are unbelievable! Have you ever been abused? No! You haven't! Have you ever been so trapped that you can't even kill yourself? No! You fucking haven't, and you don't have a fucking clue what that does to someone, Emerson, NOT A CLUE, so shut your fucking mouth and leave me the fuck alone!" He shoves the drummer back and turns back to the road. "So what if it's been years? This shit doesn't just go away. You don't wake up one day like, 'yeah, I was abused, but that doesn't bother me anymore.' Have you not been paying attention to my life for the past two years? Does it ever occur to you that maybe, Emerson, not everything is about you!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? You put up this show like you're the victim, when all you do is hurt everyone around you! You say you're suicidal and you use your so called eating disorder as a stupid excuse to treat everyone horribly! You know, I'm actually surprised Andy hasn't left you." The words physically hurt Remington. He doesn't have a response. A car pulls up beside them. It's Andy.

Remington feels so small, like he's an old piece of gum on the pavement, people walking over him without even noticing that he's there. The car door opens and Andy gets out, confused at the scene before him. He looks at Emerson, standing there, guilt painted thickly over his face, and then at Remington, stood with his head hanging as though he doesn't have the strength to hold it up. "Alright, what the hell is going on?" Andy asks, wanting an explanation for why his husband looks like he's about to jump in front of a bus. "Emerson, care to explain?"

The drummer can't believe what he just said. He can't look at Andy. "Argument," he says, which hardly answers Andy's question. That much is clear just from looking at the two of them.

"Okay, whatever the fuck you said, you shouldn't have, and I strongly suggest you leave." He turns his attention to the tearful boy. "Remington, sweetheart, can you look at me?" His voice goes from stern to soft so quickly. "Come here, petal, it's okay."

Hesitating, Remington lifts his head up. "You're-you're gonna leave me," he whispers, so sad and hopeless.

Andy hugs his lover. "I would never do such a thing. Let's go home, yeah?" A car beeps behind his car, which is blocking the road, and he pulls away from the hug, holding a hand up so they know he's going to move the car soon, and leads Remington to the passenger door. He gets in the other side, and pulls out. "What happened, princess, what did you argue about?"

Remington doesn't respond. Andy isn't sure if he's even listening. He wishes Emerson could just go easy on Remington. The drummer knows damn well Remington is fragile. Why does he keep arguing with him? Even if Remington is the one to start the arguments, why does Emerson make it worse by responding? It's like he always has to be right.