Trigger warning but you'll like this chapter I promise

Even after Sebastian talks to both of them, Remington and Emerson still don't talk. Emerson wants to, but Remington isn't having any of it. He wants his little brother back, of course he does, but isn't prepared for another argument.

The day comes where Emerson must get the results back from the tests he had two weeks ago, and him and Shy sit anxiously in the waiting room, waiting for the doctor to give them the news, be it good or bad.

Remington takes his shoes off and sits with his legs beneath him on Abigail's sofa, talking while she sits down. "Me and Emerson still aren't talking," he says, "he keeps trying to, but I'm scared."

"Why're you scared?"

"Because," Remington sighs, "I don't want him to shout at me. I've had enough of him shouting at me." He accepts the glass of water when she pours it. "I don't want to be not talking to him, but I don't know what else to do because he already made me collapse once, and he said that I deserved to be raped, so I don't know if I can even forgive him for that."

"You know that's not true, don't you? You don't believe that you deserved it, do you?"

The boy sighs and looks away without answering.

Abigail frowns. "You've worked so hard on this, Remington. Don't let something Emerson said in a fight bring you down."

"But it is bringing me down," he says quietly, "and I feel stupid about it. Every time I think about Emerson, all I can think about is how it was all my fault." He looks down. "I had a nightmare the other night about it." He hasn't told anyone else about the nightmare, not even Andy, because he feels so pathetic about it.

"A bad nightmare?"

Remington nods and looks up at her. "It was awful, and I don't-I don't wanna blame Emerson, but I don't know why else it would have happened." He rubs his eyes. "I just want things to go back to how they were before Sebastian went to jail."

Abigail notices him tear up, and can see how sad he is. "How have you been since you collapsed? Have you been avoiding stressful situations like the doctor said to do?"

"Everything makes me stressed," Remington mumbles, "sometimes it feels like the world is spinning way too fast, and I can't-I can't think properly. The only thing that makes it stop is sleep. I just wanna cry all the time." He rubs his eyes again and inhales shakily. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I just-can you give me a hug?"

"Of course," the therapist says, and stands up. She opens her arms and Remington gratefully walks into her.

"I feel so week."

"It's okay to feel weak, but I promise you, you're not."

Remington likes how she hugs him in such a way that, should he need to, he could easily escape. "Think I'm just having a bad week," he whispers, trying to comfort himself. "I'm so scared about Emerson. Don't want him to die."

"Whatever happens, you are going to be okay." Remington lets Abigail's words soothe him because he needs it.

"Can I ask you something?"

They separate the hug and sit back down. "Of course you can."

Remington looks at her. "Why did Holly hurt me? What did I do wrong?" He tears up and wipes his eyes.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Abigail says, "I promise you, she's the one who's in the wrong. None of what she did was your fault, Remington, none of it."

"But what if-what if Emerson was right?"

"He wasn't."

Emerson texts Sebastian while him and Shy are waiting.
Getting results soon. Pray for me??

Good luck. Praying for you always, little brother.

He presses Shy a nervous smile when she takes his hand. "It's gonna be okay," she says, "whatever happens, it's gonna be okay."

Emerson can't believe her. "It's not. If they tell me it's worse I don't know how I'll be able to tell my brothers, and Remington-God, poor Remington-is gonna break. He's so close already."

Shy knows it's a bit of a habit for Emerson to constantly be worrying about his brother. Since the hotel incident, both Emerson and Sebastian spend so much time worrying about the young man. "He'll be okay."

"Yeah, but what if he isn't? What if he kills himself because of me?" He can't help reacting the way he is. All of this is so scary and the thought of him ever being the reason for his brother hurting makes him sick inside.

The girl shakes her head. "Em, it'll be okay. Just think about something else until we're given the results, okay?"

Emerson sighs heavily. "I can't, Shy. I can't think about anything else. He's already tried to kill himself more than once. What if this time, he succeeds? What if Sebastian has to attend both his brother's funerals?" He wipes his eyes. "I don't know how I'm meant to be positive at this point. I'm the reason Remington is so sad and I'm probably gonna die. How am I meant to be positive about that?"

"Look, I know you're scared, and believe me, so am I, but you can't keep blaming yourself for what's going on with Remington. You know it's not your fault. He's been through hell and he's bound to be sensitive. That's not your fault. Don't beat yourself up. It's okay."

Remington knows Emerson gets the results back today. Sebastian told him. He can't think about it, and though he's trying so hard to stay positive, all he can think about is how his little brother could be dying, and he might never get to even say goodbye. He's in the car with Andy on the way back from therapy, and rubs his eyes desperately to try and stop himself crying, but he can't, and he sobs.

Andy glances at his husband. "I'm gonna pull over, okay? Let me give you a hug."

The boy nods and covers his face with his hands.

Once the car is off the road and in a Tesco carpark, Andy unplugs himself and gets out the vehicle. He opens Remington's door and the boy gets out, too, and practically falls into Andy, who strokes his hair. "I've got you," he whispers, "you're okay."

Remington shakes his head. "I'm not okay," he sobs, "I wanna die, Andy, I wanna die so bad. Everything's going wrong and it's because of me." He grips Andy and tries to remind himself that it isn't his fault, but it's so hard to do that.

"None of this is because of you, my sweet sweet baby, I promise. You're perfect. Let's go home, okay? It's cold and you're shivering." He always knows what to say and Remington couldn't be more thankful for that. "How about I make a blanket fort and we can watch a few movies and cuddle, yeah? Sound good?"

"'m not perfect," Remington mutters, "but that sounds nice. The cuddle part, especially."

Andy wipes tears from the younger's cheeks. "To me, kitten, you are more than perfect. Here, sit back in the car. I'll take us home and I promise I'll do my very best to make you feel at least a little bit better, okay?"

"'kay. Love you." He gets back in the car and wipes his eyes.

Andy smiles. "I love you too, sweetheart. You're gonna be okay. Do you want my hoodie?" He takes it off before Remington has nodded, and the boy takes it with a teary smile, pulling it on and hiding under the hood.

"Emerson Barrett?" A doctor calls, and the two stand up, anxious out of their minds. They follow the doctor into a small room, sitting in the blue chairs when he gestures for them to sit down. "As promised, I have the results for you."

Shy and Emerson exchange nervous glances.

The doctor smiles. It doesn't seem like a piteous sort of smile. "You're clear," he says, "the tests confirm that you need no further treatment. Now, as a precaution, you will need to come back in two months for a check up, to make sure it hasn't returned, but I'm very confident that it won't."

Emerson is so relieved he can't talk, and Shy hugs him. "Thank you so much," the drummer breathes, "oh my God, I don't know what to say."

As soon as he's out the hospital, he calls Sebastian, telling him the good news, and after that, calls Andy. He knows Remington won't answer, but Andy might.

The man is finishing off the blanket fort when his phone rings. He is hesitant about answering Emerson, but decides to anyway. "Hey," he greets, just as Remington comes into the room.

"Hi, Andy. I've just got my results back from hospital. I'm clear. The cancer's gone."

Andy's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yeah. It's gone."

"Holy fuck, that's brilliant news. I'll tell Remington." The boy raises an eyebrow at the mention of his name, flopping down onto the bed.

"Thanks. I hope he's okay. You know I never wanted to hurt him."

Andy sits next to Remington. "Yeah, I know. It's alright. Thanks for letting me know. I'm so happy for you." He hangs up and puts the phone down, and Remington looks at him expectantly.

"You were talking about me," he says.

"I was," Andy chuckles, "Emerson got the test results back. The cancer's gone. He's clear."

Remington freezes for a moment. "He's clear? He's really gonna be okay?"

Nodding and smiling, Andy welcomes the boy into his lap. "He's okay."

"Oh my God, he's okay. He's really okay. Fuck. Fuck, I was so scared he was gonna die."

Andy kisses his cheek. "I known you were, and now you don't have to be anymore. He's okay. And you're gonna be okay, too. I know it. What movie do you wanna watch?"

Remington just shrugs. He doesn't care what film they watch, because his brother is okay. His brother is really okay.