K so I'm gonna keep writing this for a while longer bcos I have a good idea. Y'all gonna hate me bcos guess who's coming back into the story? Ahahahahahaha enjoy :)
Trigger warning.

Reluctantly, Remington sits opposite Andy, knowing he has to talk about this but not wanting to. He looks at the cup of tea in front of him and sighs. And is the first to talk. "So, sweetheart, all I need you to do is tell me the truth, okay?"

The boy holds his gaze on the hot liquid in the mug. "I am telling you the truth," he mumbles.

Andy sighs. "What number are you on?"

Remington shrugs and says nothing.

"Are you above fifteen?"

He just shrugs again.

"Remington, come on. Talk to me."

"Why?"

"Because it's not good to keep it all inside."

After a moment, Remington quietly says, "twenty seven," and sighs.

"Twenty seven? Fuck, Remington, that's bad." Andy remarks, worried. "Do you-um-do you know why it's so bad? Has something caused it?'

Remington picks up the tea. "Because no one believes me about Holly's brother," is his answer, "because it is him! I know it is! And no one is taking it seriously."

"Look, sweetie, there is no way you can be sure. You can't tell yourself that for certain."

The boy crosses his arms. "Well fuck you," he mumbles, sipping on the tea and putting it back down. "It's too milky," Remington complaines, in a bad mood and wanting a hug but not willing to admit it.

Andy shakes his head. "Do you need to go home, kitten, is that what's really going on here?" He swaps his tea for Remington's, since it's less milky. "If you need to go home, just say, okay? There's something going on with you and I don't like seeing you so sad like this. It breaks my heart. Just tell me what's wrong."

Remington wraps his hands around the warm mug and glances at his husband. "I just..." he goes quiet, not sure how to phrase it. "I like playing shows, but-but I hate-I hate everything else. Like everything else, Andy. The bus, the stupid bunk beds, the small bathroom, the stupid fucking generator. It's never quiet and I want to have a hot bath and I can't because there's no bath and I can't stick to the times I'm supposed to for eating which makes it so hard to eat anything and people keep leaving razors and scissors around and do you know how hard it is to not fucking slit my throat everytime I see something sharp?" He sips the tea and talks again. "And I tipped the diet pills into the bottle that has the pills for my depression so you wouldn't see." The boy tears up and wipes his eyes. "But I'm fine."

"Come and have a hug," Andy suggests, "you've not had one for at least twenty four hours. How are you still standing?" His teasing makes Remington smile, which was his intention. "You didn't even use me as a pillow last night."

The singer sniffles. "I didn't sleep properly." He watches Andy get up and walk over to his side, sitting on the bench beside him. "Can you take my wallet?"

"Hmm?"

"Because if I have money I'll buy more pills so if you keep my wallet then I can't buy anymore. Please?" Remington leans into Andy.

"Of course I can, sweetie. That's a very healthy thing to do, you know? I'm proud of you." He puts an arm around Remington. "I've got a little plan. Do you wanna hear it?"

Remington yawns. "I don't know. Is it a good plan?"

"Do you remember the times Abigail told you for eating?"

"Think so."

Andy kisses his head. "Okay, so here's what we're gonna do. Where ever we are, I'm gonna make sure that you have something to eat at those times, okay? And you're gonna tell me when you're struggling with it, and I'll help you, because I don't want you feeling like you have to deal with this alone. I know being on tour is hecitc and sometimes you forget to do the important things, so I'm gonna help you with that. I'm gonna make sure you talk to Abigail when you need to, and that you get enough sleep, even if it means sleeping though a meet and greet session occasioanally. Sound good?"

"But how will you do all that?"

"Because I'm made of fairy dust and I'm magical. Finish your tea."

Remington giggles. "It's your tea, actually," he says, picking it up. "And you are magical."

"Damn right. Number?"

"Twenty four."

Andy steals the tea. "We've gone down. That's great, honey."

"Why'd you keep saying we when you ask for the number?" The boy takes teh tea back and finishes it off as Andy answers.

"Because you're not in this on your own. Because you're family and families stick together. And because, pretty, I love you."

"I'm probably missing soundcheck," Remington says, "what's the time?"

"I don't know."

"Okay, well you're useless."

Andy chuckles. "What was that about being magical? Am I not magical now?"

The boy tries to climb over Andy's lap to get up. "If you can read the time without having a clock to read then you can be magical again." He eventually gets his feet on the floor, and stands up.

At half past one in the morning, while the others are out meeting fans, Andy sits in the bus reading, looking up when Remington opens the door, comes in, and closes it in a flurry. "You okay?" The man asks, slightly amused at Remington's wide-eyed expression.

The singer nods.

"And you're in here, why?"

Remington leans against the closed door. "He's there," he says quickly.

"Who?"

"Freaking Gerard Way!"

"Ah, and you're having a fangirl moment and freaking out?"

Remington nods frequently. "I'm freaking out," he agrees. "He's right there, Andy! He said hi to me and I ran in here because I couldn't even remember how to breathe."

Andy laughs and Remington whines. "Go and say hi," he urges, "he's come to see you."

"Go and say hi? Who do you think I am? Someone with social skills? You have to come with me or I'll just be standing there like a weirdo for five minutes."

"Alright, I'm coming. Deep breaths." He stands up and takes Remington's hand. "You're shaking, sweetie," he observes. Remington just nods. "Alright, come on."

Remington closes the door behind him and walks beside Andy around to the front of the bus, where Gerard is standing. On seeing the famous singer, Remington hides his face in Andy's shoulder, and the man smiles at Gerard. "He's a bit nervous," he says.

"Hi Remington," Gerard says, and Remington makes an incoherent sound against Andy.

"Can't you even say hi?" Andy asks, stroking his hair.

The boy shakes his head. "I'm having a mini breakdown," he mumbles, "give me like...two minutes."

Andy chuckles, smiling at Gerard, who talks. "I saw your show," he says, "I was in the balcony. Your cover of teenagers puts us to shame."

Remington blushes profusely, and is glad they can't see his face.

"Anxiety life is next level insane," Gerard goes on, "wow!"

The noise Remington makes in response causes the older men to laugh. "Their shows are awesome, aren't they?" Andy says, giving Remington a moment to compose himself.

"I've never seen anything like it. Is he okay?"

Andy hums. "He's having a fan girl moment. Hon, you okay?"

The boy nods. "Can I hug him?" He asks shyly.

"Of course you can."

Slowly, Remington lifts his head, looking at the rockstar and feeling his heart jump into his mouth. "I-thanks for the video," he practically whispers, unsure of what to say.

"You're welcome. I hope you're feeling better."

"A little bit," Remington answers, "I fucking love you." The words come out in a hurry, like he's been needing to say it for a while.

Gerard smiles at him. "I love you," he says, watching how Remington basically melts. "Do you want a hug?"

Remington nods. "I think I'm in heaven," he says, making the most of the fact that he's hugging his idol. "My day just went from shit to fucking great in like five minutes." He finds it comforting how the older man isn't moving his hands. It'd make him feel like he was being judged for how you can feel his bones. "I wrote a song I wanted to sing with you."

"You should show me some day. Do you have your phone? I'll give you my number."

"No, it's-wait, what? You're giving me your number? Andy, how did I die? Did the pills finally kill me?"

"No, silly. You're alive. I'll get your phone. Try not to collapse on him or anything"

Eventually Remington releases Gerard, trying not to cry because of how overwhelmed he is by all this. Andy comes back out and hands  the man Remington's phone, and the youngest retreats back to hiding in his husband's shoulder.

Gerard adds himself as a contact and hands the phone back. "It's been nice meeting you, Remington," he says, "send me a message some time. See you later"