Trigger warning. Bringing back an unwanted face into this shortly. Please don't kill me (at least not until I get to the good bit) Enjoy this :)

The police station makes Remington feel uneasy. He sits in the chair as the officer asks him questions that he doesn't want to answer. It's all too familair.

"Where were you?" The officer asks. All he's been told is that Remington was attacked.

The boy just shrugs.

"You need to tell us so we can work out who it was."

Remington looks down. "We were camping," he says.

"We?"

"Me and my husband. We were camping."

The officer writes this down. "Okay. Do you know where you were?"

Remington tells him the name of the hill there were camping on.

"Were you alone when you were attacked?"

"Yes."

"Where was your husband at the time?"

Sighing, Remington looks up for a moment. "He was in the tent getting dressed."

"Were you far from the tent?"

Remington runs his hand over his face. "Far enough that he couldn't hear what was happening."

The officer nods. "Okay, you're doing well. Was it a man or a woman who attacked you, and what did they do?"

He shifts uncomfotably. "Man," he answers, "the same guy who attacked my husband and punched me in the street. He took our car when he attacked Andy and turned up at one of my shows while I was touring with my band. He tried to rape me outside a venue."

The man sits up straighter. "I assume you've already informed the police about all of this?"

"Yes, and they said they're trying to find out who he is."

"Okay. What did he do to you this morning?"

Remington shudders. "He grabbed me and stopped me from screaming, and-"

"How did he do that?"

"Put his hand over my mouth. I bit him but he didn't move."

"Then what?" The officer questions, noting all this down as Remington talks.

The boy thinks back to the situation. "He held me against the ground and kneed me in the stomach. And then Andy saw and he punched the guy. Then he ran off."

"What was he wearing?"

"All black I think. I closed my eyes for most of it."

"Okay. You said you bit his hand? How hard did you bite?"

Remington shrugs. "I tasted blood," he mumbles, "so pretty hard."

"How hard did he knee your stomach?"

"It's bruised," Remington says, "my ribs really hurt." He can feel the dull pain everytime he breathes in, and if he wasn't in here, he'd probably be crying.

"Do you think you can show us the bruise for evidence?"

The question makes Remington uncomfortable. "Okay," he whispers.

"I'm gonna ask you a few more questions and then we'll take some photos of your bruise, okay?"

Remington nods.

"Was there any way he could have tracked you down?"

"I don't know. We had our phones, so maybe?"

"Did he say anything to you?"

The singer just shakes his head.

"Do you have any idea who it could be? Even if you aren't sure."

"My ex's brother," Remington says quickly, "Jason Gulls. I think it's him."

"Why do you think it's him?"

"Holly-"

"Holly?"

Remington sighs. "My ex. She abused me and then she raped me and tried to kill me. She's in prison now, and I know she has a brother who writes to her. I think she's making him come after me."

"Okay. Thank you for telling me that. It may give us a lead on where to look to find your attacker. Come with me and we'll get some photos of the bruise."

Trailing behind the officer, Remington twists the rings on his fingers as he walks, and is lead into a small room with a camera on a tripod in the corner. He's told to lift his shirt up and hesitantly he does, anxious about what they'll think of how thin he is.

The officer takes the camera off the tripod and turns it on, crouching down to get a good photo. "Have you had this checked by a doctor?" He asks, and the shutter clicks.

"No."

"I think you should. You migh have a bruised rib."

It seems to hurt more now he's thinking about it. "Really?"

"It's a posibility. What's this scar from?"

Remington gulps. "My ex. She stabbed me."

He takes three more photos before putting the camera back and leading Remington out of the room and back into the area where Andy is waiting. "We're going to look into Jason Gulls," the officer says, sliding the clipboard onto the reception desk. "Do get your ribs checked, Remington."

The boy steps towards his husband, who rubs his arm soothingly. "Okay," he says, hand resting on his stomach. "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah. We'll let you know when we have more information about whoever this is, okay."

Andy takes the younger's hand as they leave the police station. "How was it, sweetie? Stressful?"

Remington nods. "Stressful," he agrees, "can you take me to the hospital?"

"Of cours I can. Number?" He opens the car door for Remington, who sits down gratefully.

"Fourteen." The boy relaxes into the car seat. "Why does everything keep going wrong?" He asks, almost in tears.

Andy kisses his hand. "It's gonna be okay. They're gonna find whoever this is."

"'s Jason," Remington mumbles, "hospital?"

As if the day couldn't get any worse, at the hospital they have to sit and wait for Remington to be looked at for more than three hours, and of course, Remington resorts to social media as a way to try and pass the time.

He looks through things he's been tagged in and likes a few drawings, showing a particularly good one of him and Andy to his husband, who asks for Remington to dm it to him so he can share it on his story. Andy likes how happy Remington is in that particular picture. He knows what the photo used as a referance is, and remembers taking it. They were in Greece. It was the day after the wedding. They were sitting by the pool with lemonade and Remington took the photo on Andy's Instagram story. Nearly the whole fanbase screenshotted it.

It's inevitable that Remington comes across a confession account. He knew people would still keep them even after he asked them to take them down.

Confessionsofthecouncil: No 64 - Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for Rem bcos he got to meet Gerard Way, but he spent more time talking to him than he did interacting with fans. I find that kinda insulting considering we spent money to see them.

Remington sighs. He doesn't argue when Andy takes his phone off him, and leans into the man with a heavy sigh. "I hate my life," he murmers, "sometimes I just wanna be someone else. You know? With out all these disorders and issues and without my shitty fucking past. I envy every single person who doesn't have anorexia, Andy. They don't know how lucky they are."

Eventually they're called into a room and Remington is told to lie down on the padded table. He does. The doctor carefully touches around the bruise, swiftly taking his hand away when Remington lifts his back of the table and muffles a cry with his hand. He's told he most likely has a bruised rib, and after an x-ray, it is confirmed. He's bandaged with padding over the rib and told to take it easy and come back if it doesn't start feeling better in a few weeks.

When they get home, Andy makes Remington tea and turns on the television, knowing the boy won't be up to doing much else today. Remington just wants to know what he's done wrong.