Trigger warning.

Remington steps into Abigail's house, pressing her a grateful smile for what she did for him last night. He sits down and she talks. "How are you feeling today?" She asks.

The boy shrugs. "I don't know. I'm mad at Emerson for not telling me."

Abigail hums. "That's understandable. Do you think you'll talk to him about it?" She pours him a glass of water.

"I don't want to," Remington admits, picking up the glass. "I just-I feel weird, and kind of-kind of weak, you know? Like-I just wanna curl up on the sofa with Andy and forget about everything for a bit." He sips the water. "Arguing with Em makes me so sad and now he has cancer and I don't know how to deal with that, and I feel so selfish for making this about me."

"Okay, Remington, it's not selfish to be feeling like this. You've been told something really upsetting and it's okay to feel overwhelmed by it."

Remington sighs and messes with his rings. "Am I being sent back to the mental hospital because I nearly-nearly killed myself? " He sounds scared.

Abigail knows he didn't like it at the hospital. "No. You did so well with handling it last night, and even though you were on your own, you didn't give up. You've recovered a lot since you first went to the hospital and I don't think it'd do you any good to send you back." She watches him hug his knees to his chest.

"Okay," the boy whispers, relieved.

"I don't want last night to set you back in your recovery, and I want you to know that the way you handled things really makes me so proud of you. A year ago, you never would have been able to get through that without harming yourself."

Fingers twisting the familiar wedding ring, Remington looks up at her. "I nearly did," he says, "I found scissors in the first aid kit and was so close to cutting myself." He looks down again.

Abigail fills his glass up. "What you need to remember is that you didn't do anything, though. You could have, but you didn't. How did you stop yourself?"

"I didn't want to hurt myself, if you know what I mean. I just-I felt like I needed to, but then when I was about to, I guess I realised that cutting myself doesn't help. It just-when I'm doing it, it feels kinda-kinda freeing, but then after I just-I just hate the scars and the stinging and it makes it worse. I didn't want that. I wanted to be okay." He sees her smile and furrows his brows. "Is that good?"

The therapist hums. "That's very good. You recognised that it doesn't help. That's something you've only been doing recently, and you should be proud of yourself for it."

Remington doesn't believe her, no matter how much he wants to. He isn't proud of himself. He hates himself for making Emerson's tragedy about himself. He always makes everything about himself. That's what Holly said, and Emerson, too. It must be right if Emerson said it.

After therapy, Andy takes him home, and asks how it was with Abigail. The boy says it was fine, the he feels better now, and tells Andy he's going upstairs to get his book, leaving Andy to empty the dishwasher.

Each step Remington takes seems bigger than the last, and half way up, he grips the banister and sinks to his knees, sobbing hard and pressing his forehead against the wooden beams. All he can think about is how Emerson is dying. Everything hurts inside. He gasps and tries to calm down, but he can't.

Andy hears the sobs, and runs up the stairs, kneeling on the step below Remington and wrapping the boy in his arms. "It's okay," he whispers, stroking his lover's hair.

Remington is crying heavily. It's the first time he's properly cried since he was told about Emerson. He was trying to be strong, to prove to everyone that he's not that weak, damaged little boy, but he can't do that when he is that weak, damaged little boy. "He's gonna die!" Remington sobs, "he's gonna die and it should be me!"

"Shh-shh, it's okay," Andy soothes, carefully pulling the younger's hands off the banister and bringing him into his lap.

The boy shakes his head way too fast. "It should be me," he repeats, quietly now, "oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my-"

"Remington, sweetheart, it's okay. Just breathe, you're okay. I got you." Andy holds him tight and strokes his hair slowly.

"I don't-I don't know what to do anymore," Remington murmurs into Andy's shoulder, "I don't know what to do!" His body shakes against Andy's and he can't remember crying this hard for months.

With the boy crying into him, Andy wonders what he was like before Holly hurt him, before she made him believe in all her lies. He wonders if he was ever truly happy, if he ever smiled and it wasn't at least a tiny bit forced. He wonders what life was like for him before he had it torn away, ripped apart and set on fire right in front of him.

Remington grips him like his life depends on it. "You're gonna leave me," he sobs, convincing himself, "everything is going wrong and you're gonna leave me because-because I don't deserve you and I deserve to die alone in a ditch and burn in hell forever because I'm fucking useless and I-" he gasps for air.

"I will never leave you," Andy assures him, "I will be here for as long as I live. That won't change. Just breathe. You're okay." He continues stroking his hair and rocks gently in a constant, calming rhythm. "Whatever happens, I will be right here, okay. No matter how alone you feel, I will be here. I promise."

Remington feels so stupid crying like this. "Emerson hates me!" He wails, finding more ways to upset himself because he doesn't know what else to do.

"No, he doesn't, baby boy, he doesn't hate you."

"Everyone hates me."

Andy shakes his head. "No, baby, no one hates you. We all love you, sweetheart. It's a tough time for Emerson and he's angry at the world for making him sick, and he's just-he's just angry. You know what that's like. It's not his fault. It's no one's fault. He loves you so much, pretty, he just forgets to show it sometimes. I think you forget to show him how much you love him sometimes, too, and that's not your fault. It's just hard sometimes, to show someone you love them when you're so mad at everything around you. It's okay to feel like that, baby, it's okay to be mad, but Emerson needs you. He needs to feel loved, just like how you need to feel loved, too." He talks so softly, in a way that he knows calms Remington.

The boy listens and nods against Andy. "I know," he whispers, "I don't want him to think I hate him. I don't hate him."

"You need to tell him that you love him, sweetheart. He needs it. I think you do, too."

"How do you-how do you stay so calm?" His voice is sounding more stable now, and he lifts his head, face red and wet with tears.

"I'm not calm on the inside. How're you feeling now? Do you think you can stand up? My legs have gone numb." He swipes his thumb under Remington's eyes, and the boy smiles softly.

"No, not yet," he says, returning his head to it's previous position and closing his eyes.

Andy ruffles his hair. "Who needs legs?" He jokes, "you take as long as you need, princess. I know you need your cuddles."

Remington hums. "And cuddles with you are the best. Makes me feel better."

"I'm glad. You know I meant it, don't you?"

"Meant what? That your legs are numb?"

"Yes, but also what I said about me always being here. Because I know that sometimes you feel like you have no one to turn to, but I promise you always have me. Even if we've had a fight, sweetheart, I will always be here to give you cuddles and keep you safe when you're scared. I promise on my life, and I love you more than I love anyone else in the world." He gives Remington a smile when he lifts his head up again. "So no matter what is going on, even if we've fallen out, you can come to me if you need someone, okay?"

The words make Remington's heart feel full. He's never had someone care for him like Andy does. "Even if I shout at you that I hate you? You'll still be there for me?"

Andy nods, wipes a tear from the younger's cheek. "Even then, sweetie. Always, okay?"

Nodding and wiping his eyes, Remington carefully gets off Andy. "Okay. I love you more than I love anyone else in the world, too. Thanks for being so awesome." He watches Andy stretch his legs out and giggles at him. "Even if I refuse to sleep in bed with you, will you still be there for me?"

"Yep. Are you feeling a bit better now?"

Remington hums. "'m getting my book," he says, and ascends the remainder of the stairs.

Andy smiles and stands up, and goes back down to finish the emptying dishwasher. He's relieved Remington let himself cry. It's so much worse when he tries to keep it in.