Trigger warning.

Six nights into tour, the bus breaks down, and they stop at the side of a highway to wait for the repair van to turn up. It's nearly 4 am, and the boys wake up at the lack of movement and noise. Remington whines when he's told by Sebastian what has happened, and pulls the covers over his head as Andy sits up. "I'm too tired," the boy complains, trying to pull Andy back down so he can use the man's chest as a pillow.

"Put some clothes on, bub, it's gonna get cold. The generator isn't working." Sebastian pulls back Emerson's curtain, on the other side of the small corridor.

Remington groans and sits up, holding the covers around his shoulders, and Andy passes him a hoodie and a pair of tracksuit bottoms. Everyone on the bus knows Remington will get colder than them because of how thin he is, and how his body can't really retain body heat. "This isn't mine," the young singer says, picking up the hoodie.

"It's mine, sweetheart. I's new."

"Oh, okay," Remington mumbles, half asleep, and pulls the hoodie on. "I'm not getting out of bed."

"What the fuck is going on?" Emerson asks, and yawns.

"Broken down," Sebastian says, for the fourth time. "We're waiting for someone to come repair whatever is broken."

The drummer nods sleepily. "Fantastic. I'm going back to sleep."

In the clothes Andy gave him, Remington lies back down and exhales. "Tour buses suck," he murmurs, "Andy."

The boy's voice is childish, and Andy chuckles. "Go back to sleep, honey."

Remington grabs at his lover, who lies down beside him. "Seriously, tour buses fucking suck."

"I know, princess." Andy lies awake with Remington's head on his chest, stroking his hair as the younger goes back to sleep. He ends up falling asleep, too, like everyone else in the bus, apart from Sebastian, who waits for the repair van to turn up.

They're woken an hour and a half later with a bang, and Remington bolts up, freaked by the loud noise. He remember how Holly used to slam doors and bang pans together to get his attention.

His heart is racing and he wishes he could stop himself from getting so scared of things that remind him of Holly. He rubs his eyes, which are teary, and gladly leans into Andy's safe embrace. "It's okay," the man whispers, "you're okay."

Remington whimpers. He hates how he can't control what makes him cry. "Is the bus fixed?" He asks, even though he knows Andy doesn't know more than he does about it. He doesn't want to think about Holly, and he will if he isn't talking about something else.

"I hope so," Andy replies, gently and soothingly rubbing Remington's back.

The boy sniffles and doesn't lift his head when he hears the curtain being pulled back. He feels protected with Andy holding him like this. "It's fixed," Sebastian says, "what's wrong, bub?"

"The loud noise," Remington murmurs, "scared me."

"It was just them closing the doors on their van. I should have made sure they didn't slam them. Get some more sleep, okay?"

Still with his face in Andy's shoulder, Remington hums. "'kay."

Sebastian looks at Andy, and smiles. "Thank you," he mouthes, and gestures to how he's holding Remington.

Andy smiles back, and nods. It's nice to be apprecaited by Sebastian, who put his whole life on hold to look after Remington right after the hotel incident. The guitarist cares for his brother so deeply and for him to be thanking Andy means that he really does trust the man with the fragile singer.

The curtain is closed and Remington lifts his head up, smiling sleepily when Andy wipes under his eyes. "Tomorrow is gonna be a bad day, I can feel it."

"I'll protect you, sweetheart. You'll be okay." He kisses the younger's forehead.

Remington yawns. "I love you," he says, through the yawn, and takes the hoodie off now the generator is working again. "Can I ask you something?"

Taking the hoodie and shoving it back in his bag, Andy hums, and lies down with the boy. "Of course you can. What is it?"

"How do you never get mad at me?" He settles down basically on top of Andy, eyes closed.

"You don't give me anything to be mad at," Andy replies, "and I know that you shout sometimes, but it's never for no reason, and it'd be shitty for me to shout back when you need to be treated with love. And I love you. The last thing I'd ever want is to hurt you. You're too important to me for that to happen." With his husband curled up into him, head in it's usual place on his chest, beautiful face so innocent, hair messy, Andy knows he will never stop loving him. "Sweet dreams, angel."

Remington whines. "I'm a devil," he mumbles.

"The devil isn't pretty like you."

"Shush please. I'm trying to sleep."

Andy chuckles. "Night night, angel."

"Devil," the boy insists.

"If you're a devil, then hell must be heaven."

In Vip the following day, they're all tired because of the nights events, specially Sebastian, who stayed awake while the others slept for an hour and a half. "Hi," the oldest of the three greets a young boy, probably around twelve, with his dad. "Thank you for coming."

The boy is nervous and the brothers guess it's most likely his fist concert. "Hi," he says, and looks at his dad.

"You can hug me if you like," Sebastian offers, "but please, no hugging Remington."

The singer breathes out in relief. He finds it so hard to say no when someone asks for a hug. He watches his two brothers hug the young boy, and smiles at the father, who is clearly wondering why Remington isn't hugging anyone.

"Can you sign this?"

Remington turns to the child. "Sure," he takes the piece of paper from the boy, and forgets how to breathe when he sees the picture. It's a photograph from years ago, of him with Holly. The fact that he remembers it being taken scares him. It was new year's eve, the first one together, before she started hurting him. He feels his heart thumping and tries not to show how close he is to having a panic attack. "Sebastian," he says desperately, and the guitarist turns to him straight away, hearing the desperation.

He sees the photo, and takes the paper from the singer, guiding Remington out of the door and not leaving until he is with Andy. He returns to the room and shows Emerson the picture so the drummer understands what just happened. "Sorry about that," he apologises, "the girl in that photo did some terrible things to Remington. We don't talk about her."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. We had no idea. We've only recently been fans," the dad says.

"It's okay, we understand. We can sign something else."

Remington sits with Andy in the green room quietly, calming down, and tries to rid the photo rom his mind. He can see her face, her smile, her dangerous beauty. He whimpers.

Andy doesn't know what happened, but doesn't ask. "It's okay," he repeats.

"I can see her," Remington whispers, "everywhere."

"She's not here. You're safe. It's just me, sweetheart."

"Fucking stupid fucking brain!"

Andy holds his hands. "Hey, no, your brain is not stupid. Just breathe."

"I want to go home."