TRIGGER WARNING!

The boy is quiet in therapy. He answers Abigail's questions by just nodding or shaking his head.

"What's bothering you, Remington?" She asks, and Remington shrugs. "This is a safe space. You say whatever you need to say and we'll work through it."

Remington doesn't doubt her for a second. He knows it's a safe place, and that she'll help him. He sighs. "I quit the band."

Abigail sits up straight. "You quit your band? Why?"

The singer shrugs again. "Because our record label said that if we don't tour In three months then they'll drop us from the deal. And I can't tour yet, so I quit." He sounds sad. Quitting the band was never something he wanted to do. He just couldn't see another way out of touring.

"How do you know you're not ready?"

Remington looks up. "I'm just not."

"Give me some reasons why you're not ready."

Looking down again, Remington says, "I find it basically impossible to eat without Andy, I hate wearing anything that shows my arms or my legs or any part of my body, I keep having nightmares, and crowds freak me out." He goes quiet, and then whispers, "I still kinda wanna die."

Abigail crosses her legs. "Do you want to go on tour? If you didn't have any of these doubts, would you go?"

"I don't know. I just-I don't find it fun anymore. All the good things about it are just-they seem so small compared to everything bad." He picks up the glass of water and sips it. "I guess I just-when Sebby told me, I got scared. I feel safe at home with Andy and I like having a routine and knowing that I can talk to you on the same days every week. It makes me feel better knowing I've got a routine. But on tour, there's like no routine, and I don't know where we are most of the time, and so many people I don't even know tell me I saved their life I can't handle it. It makes me so fucking stressed, Abi, and I can't enjoy the shows because I'm so stressed and so tired all the time." He rubs his eyes. "I'm scared that if I tour again, then I'm gonna stop eating, and I don't wanna go back to hospital."

The therapist can hear how overwhelmed he is by the idea of touring. "Let's look at this in a different way. How would you feel if you lost the record deal?"

Remington puts the glass down. "I'd feel like I ruined my brother's lives and I'd kill myself." He's not lying. Abigail knows he isn't. "I'm so confused," he says, pressing the heels of his hands to his temples. "I don't know what the hell to do."

"You need to make the desicion for you, Remington, not for your brothers or for your fans, but for you. If you aren't ready to tour, and if you're scared that it'll cause you to back slide, then say no. You can always say no."

"I can't say no."

Abigail shakes her head. "Yes, you can. You've got to put yourself first. You can't let this ruin your progress. If you don't wanna do it, then don't do it."

"But I don't know if I want to or not. I'm so fucking confused!" His voice suddenly raises, and he leans his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands.

"Take a deep breath, Remington. You need to have a good think about this, and only make the decision when you're sure, okay? Remember that this decision needs to be right for you."

The boy does as she says, and inhales slowly. "How am I meant to decide?" He looks up at her, waiting for an answer.

"Take time to think about it. Talk to Andy about it. Tell Sebastian it's stressing you out, and that you don't really want to quit the band."

As usual, Andy picks Remington up and takes him home, asking about therapy like he does every time. Remington explains what they talked about, and Andy says that he'll support his husband no matter what choice he makes. That makes Remington smiles.

Andy is called into the studio in the afternoon, since they've already started work on the next album, and promises he'll be back before ten pm. While he's gone, Remington reads for a while, shares some fanart on Instagram, and has a shower. He puts a film he's already watched on the television and curls up with a blanket, knowing he can't sleep without Andy. At some point, he falls asleep on the sofa, and when he wakes up and he's still on the sofa, he frowns, finding his phone to check the time.

Two am.

Remington takes the blanket upstairs with him, and tears up at the sight of the empty bed, untouched. He straight away jumps to the conclusion that Andy's left him, and drops the blanket on the bedroom floor before going back downstairs and into the kitchen. With a sharp knife in his hand, Remington sits on the cold floor, and after a minute, slices his wrist, deeper than intended, and sobs.

He does it again and screams, the knife clattering to the ground. Shaking, Remington crawls into the living room, and reaches for his phone on the coffee table. He calls Sebastian and slouches against the sofa, bleeding onto the carpet. It won't stop bleeding.

"Remington?"

The boy sobs.

"Remington, what's wrong?"

He shifts uncomfortably. His arm is throbbing. "He-he's-he's gone!" Remington cries into the phone.

Sebastian gets out of bed. "Who? Andy?" He gets on some clothes and descends the stairs.

Remington looks at his arm and the sight makes him feel sick. "He went-he went to the studio and he didn't-he didn't come back. He's gone!"

"I'm coming over now, bub. Are you okay? You aren't hurt?"

Sobbing and clenching his fist at the pain, Remington digs his head back into the couch. "I cut myself really bad," he cries, "it's bleeding so much."

The older brother leaves the house and locks the door hastily. "Hold something over it. A shirt or something. I'll be there really soon, okay?"

"It hurts!" Remington wails.

Sebastian starts the car. "I know. Deep breaths. I'm on the way now."

After his brother hangs up, Remington drops his phone and holds his arm tightly, turning his head when he hears the front door open and close.

Sebastian rushes to Remington, and takes his shirt off when he sees the boy doesn't have anything to stop the bleeding. He wraps the shirt tightly around Remington's arm and picks him up. "Let's get you to the hospital, bub," he soothes, carrying the young man to his car and sitting him in the passenger seat.

"He's abandoned me," Remington mumbles.

"It's alright, you're okay. I'll be right back." The guitarist runs inside and grabs a jacket off the coat rack, and uses the key Remington gave him in case something like this happened to lock the door.

When they get to hospital, Sebastian helps the shaking boy inside, and the two are taken into a white room, where Remington's arm is numbed, and the cuts are stitched up. He's given strong painkillers that send him to sleep, and Sebastian sits in the room with him, unable to sleep after tonight's ordeal.

He just hopes that there's a good reason for why Andy didn't return.