Trigger warning but it's really cute at the end

The interview stacks up thousands of views very quickly, and Remington is glad that Andy changed his password because he knows how many posts he will be getting tagged in now. People saying they feel bad for him, people hoping he's okay, people calling him and Andy couple goals. He isn't sure how he feels about everyone knowing all about what happened. He knows that he had to tell them or they'd spread rumours, but now he's told them, he's scared that it's all he is going to be asked about at shows. He doesn't want to talk about it to any fans. He doesn't want to talk about it at all.

"I watched your interview," Abigail says to him, over the phone, "that was a brave thing to do. How do you feel about it?"

Remington is sitting in the bus on his own. Everyone else is in a gas station topping up on food and what not. "I don't know," Remington says honestly.

"Do you regret it?"

"No? Kind of. I don't know. It's confusing. I regret that they had to find out without me really having a choice." He wishes he could be in his therapists house talking to her. He always feel safe in her house.

"How are people responding?"

Remington sighs. "I don't really know. Haven't been looking."

"Understandable."

"I just don't want everyone to be asking me about it in VIP." He looks out the window at people waking to and from the shop. "And not that I've said everything, I feel so...exposed, I guess."

Abigail hums in understanding. "There's nothing wrong with that, Remington. As long as you know that you've got people with who will protect you if you need it."

"Yes, I know that. My brothers and Andy wouldn't let anything happen to me."

"How are things with Emerson going? I know you two were going through a rough patch a wile ago. Has that been sorted out?"

"No, not really. We hardly talk. I wanna talk to him about it but I don't know how to start." He runs his hand over his knee, automatically feeling the bones. Abigail is about to say something when he talks again. "I cut myself today," he says.

The words, though no real surprise, sadden Abigail, who is sitting on her sofa, where Remington sits when he comes round for therapy sessions. "Okay. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I haven't told anyone," he explains, quietly, "I promised them I would but I haven't."

"Why not?"

Remington can feel the new cuts on his hip stinging dully. They have been all morning, since he sliced them in the shower. "'cause I'm ashamed of it," he admits, "'cause I haven't done it for a while and I thought I'd stopped but then the urge came back so bad this morning." He wills himself not to cry. "And I should've told Andy when the urge came back but-but I just couldn't." His voice is small, almost scared.

"Do you know why you couldn't?"

The singer watches a man carrying a bag out from the shop. "Because I'm a fuck up," he answers, believing it. "Because I ruin everything."

"That's not true, Remington."

"Yes it is."

"Tell me how it felt as you were hurting yourself."

Remington blinks profusely to force tears away. "Kinda nice, for a minute of so, and then I realised what I'd done, and I wanted to stop, but I couldn't." He touches his free hand over where the cuts are, sucking in a breath as he presses down on them. "Do you think-do you think I need to tell Andy when he comes back?"

Abigail is relieved that he's asking. It means he's considering telling Andy, which is what he should do. "I think that it'd be the right thing to do."

"Okay. How do I tell him?"

"You can just show him, if that's easier. Sit somewhere private with just him and show him where you hurt yourself. If you don't want to say anything, just show him. He'll understand, and he'll help you feel better about it."

Remington sees his brothers and Andy leave the shop, bags in hand. "Thank you, Abi. They're coming now."

"I'm glad you called. Talking about these things helps, I promise. Stay safe, Remington, and do call me if you need to talk again."

"I will, bye." He hangs up as the door opens, and sends his big brother a smile, half forced. Andy puts a bag down on the side and Remington gets up off the couch. He takes his lover's hand and pulls him towards the bunks, and Andy gets the message, following him into their shared bunk and pulling the curtain closed.

"What's up, sweetheart?" The man asks, "did you talk to Abigail?"

Remington nods. He looks down briefly at his sore hip. "I did something," he whispers, "I need to show you." He pulls down the waist band of his trousers and boxers, revealing the red lines, cris-crossing in his pale skin over the sharp bone of his hip.

If Andy is shocked, he hides it, and carefully lifts the boy's shirt up to see more clearly what he's done. "When did this happen, baby boy?"

Remington melts at how gentle his husband's words are. "This morning," he mumbles, "in the shower." He watches Andy's hand softly run over the cuts.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. Did you clean yourself up so it won't get infected?"

The way he's asking, and how he sincerely does care, makes Remington feel warm inside. "Tried to. My hands were shaking a lot, though. Can you-can you maybe sort it?" He wouldn't ask anyone else, not even his brothers. Sure, they've helped him clean up self harm in the past, but it feels wrong for them to help now. The only person he wants to help him now is Andy.

"Of course I can. Here, come cuddle first. You're shaking."

Remington lets go of his trousers and covers the cuts up, and settles in Andy's safe arms with a heavy sigh. "Sorry I didn't ask for help," he says into Andy's shoulder, "felt weird."

Andy rubs his back slowly, soothingly so. "It's okay. You're okay. I just want you to feel safe."

"I feel safe with you," Remington whispers, "thanks for being so gentle." He feels a hand in his hair and closes his eyes.

"I love you, my beautiful flower."

Remington can't get over that pet name, and smiles. "I love you, you're the best."

After the hug, Remington and Andy go into the little bathroom, and Andy wipes the cuts with antiseptic wipes and kisses the boy's head. "There we are. I got you something in the shop."

"What is it?"

Andy smiles. "It's not very exciting."

"Well then fuck you," Remington jokes, "but what is it?"

Opening the bathroom door, Andy chuckles. "Maybe I don't want to tell you now."

"That's not fair," the younger complains, joining the others in the living area of the bus. "Hey Sebastian, what did Andy get me?"

The guitarist shrugs. "Dunno, bub. You okay?"

Remington hums. "Yep." He flops down onto the couch and playfully pushes Andy away. "You can't sit until you tell me what you got."

"Fine, I'll sit over here," Andy plays along, sitting beside Andrew.

"Right, well this is bullying."

"I really don't think it is, Remington," Sebastian says, smiling.

Remington crosses his arms and pouts. "I hate you, Biersack."

"Love you too, hon."

"Um no, not hon!"

"What am I listening to?" Daniel asks, amused.

"Don't get married," Remington says in response, "it sucks."

Andy chuckles. "He's having a moment. Give him ten minutes and he'll be begging me for a hug."

"I'm not having a moment," Remington argues, smiling, "but if you're offering a hug, I won't say no."

"See," the blue eyed man says, "if you want a hug, then you're gonna have to let me sit down."

"Fuck that."

Sebastian laughs. "Are you guys always like this?"

Remington shakes his head. "No."

"Yes," Andy says at the same time, just to wind up Remington.

"Shut up, that's not true," the singer protests.

"Are you always this defensive?" Sebastian asks his brother.

Remington goes to deny it, but Emerson jumps in. "He's the submissive one in their relationship, what do you expect?"

Everyone holds back laughter and Remington tries not to smile. "See! Bullying! I am not submissive!"

Andy laughs. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."

"This is not fair, I'm going to read a book." He stands up and disappears into his bunk, and not even thirty seconds later, shouts, "Andy, I'll have that hug now!"

The man chuckles, rolls his eyes, stands up, and joins Remington in the bunk.

"If that wasn't the cutest thing I've ever seen, then I don't know what is," Daniel remarks, "makes me wanna get married."

"Yeah, but don't let them hear that. It'll go straight to their egos," Emerson jokes.

"I've never seen two people more in love in my life."