Trigger warning :) Sorry, but it's not that bad

You don't need to be a genius to know that Remington can't sleep. He turns over and over in bed until he's made himself dizzy, and sits up, checking that Sebastian is asleep before sliding out of bed. He is about to open the door when his brother talks. "Get back here," the man demands in a gentle voice, "I'm not letting you hurt yourself. Come back to bed."

Remington sighs and turns around. "I'm not gonna hurt myself," he protests, "I'm just gonna be sick." He doesn't really understand how he can just say it. Is that a good thing?

"So making yourself sick doesn't count as hurting yourself, does it not?" It's a stupid question, really. Of course it counts, and they both know it does. Remington just likes to pretend that there's nothing wrong with it. The boy is quiet. "Come here. No being sick tonight, bub."

Remington stays where he is. He thinks about turning and running. "But-"

"If you don't get back in bed I'm gonna pounce on you like a cat." The guitarist has his eyes firmly on his brother, ready to run after him if needs to. He refuses to let Remington inflict any sort of harm onto himself. "Remington, you're tired. You need sleep, not fingers down your throat."

It's been a while since he's been spoken to like this by Sebastian, and he missed it, in a strange way. "Sebastian, please-" he tries, glancing at the door behind him.

Shaking his head and getting out of bed, Sebastian takes the younger by his shoulders. "No." He pushes him towards the bed and closes the door.

Remington frowns. "Please."

"No. You know it isn't going to feel good after. It's going to hurt and you're going to feel guilty and hungry. Bed."

The boy shakes his head. "You don't understand. I just need to." He tries step past Sebastian, but is instead encased in, what he hates to admit, a very comforting hug. "I need to," he says again, making a feeble attempt at escaping his brother's arms.

Sebastian pulls him into bed and holds him to his chest. "What you need, pumpkin, is to settle down and go to sleep. I'm not letting go of you until I know you're not gonna run off to the bathroom. Just breathe."

"I hate you," the younger whispers, accepting that Sebastian isn't going to give in.

"I love you, too," Sebastian responds, "and don't you even think about waiting ten minutes and trying again."

Remington whines. He was thinking about that. "I'm never gonna be able to sleep." He turns around in his brother's arms and lets his head rest on the older's chest. "I want Andy." His voice is suddenly sad at the thought of Andy not being here for another four months.

Stroking his hair, Sebastian whispers, "I know," and grabs his hand. "Just breathe, close your eyes, and sleep. You're okay." The guitarist never understood how telling someone you're okay could help, but then he saw how it visibly eased Remington at moments like this, when things seem impossible. The reassurance is so important.

Early in the morning, just after four o'clock, Remington wakes in tears, shaken by the nightmare. He rubs his eyes and shuffles closer to Sebastian, who wakes at the movement and opens his arms for the teary boy. "Sorry," Remington whispers.

"Shush."

Though it isn't a surprise, it is upsetting when Remington bursts into tears at the mention of breakfast. He sits with his head on the table, sobbing, pushing Sebastian away when he tries to help. He just wants Andy.

You're so pathetic, he hears, in that awful voice that never let him be. I'm going to kill you tonight.

Remington flinches, like she's really there, like she's about to grab him and hold him do the floor. He won't lift his head up. He knows that if he does, she'll be there. It's better to just keep his eyes closed and hope he passes out.

He can feel her touching him like a ghost, a phantom, enveloping him in heart-stopping fear. It's been so long since he's been scared like this. Holly always had the ability to frighten him so much that he thought he was going to collapse. Sometimes he did collapse, though he was never sure if that was because of the fear, or just because he never really ate much. His issues with food go back way further than he originally thought. He always just blamed it on Holly. It was easier that way.

"Remington, buddy, Andy's calling."

The boy whips his head around at the mention of his husband, snatching his phone from Sebastian and running up the stairs. He crawls onto the bed and answers, flipping the camera around so he isn't visible. "Hey, sweetheart," the man greets, and Remington sobs at the sound of Andy's voice. He can see his beautiful face and his bright blue eyes and it hurts that the only way to see him is through a screen. "Remington, baby, turn the camera around."

"I look disgusting," the boy sobs, wiping his eyes.

"No, you don't. Let me see you, princess." His tone is so soft and Remington wants to climb into the phone screen and hug him.

Remington sighs. "You don't want to see me," he protests, "no one wants to see this." He picks up a cushion and hugs it to his chest.

Andy finds it so upsetting to hear the boy talking about himself like this. "I want to see you," he says, "I know you're crying, sweetheart, it's okay. Just turn the camera around, yeah?" He smiles when his lover appears on his screen, heart melting at the impossibly adorable and sad expression he has. "Bad day?"

The boy nods. "Awful," he mumbles, "couldn't even have breakfast." He rests his chin on the cushion. "Just need you to give me a cuddle." His brown eyes are glossy and weary from not having enough sleep, and he looks at the phone sadly.

"Do you think you can eat something for me?" Andy asks, "what were you meant to have for breakfast?" He knows talking about it makes Remington feel worse, but he also knows that not eating because of it is way worse.

Remington yawns. "Sebby was making eggs."

"Okay. Can you go down and ask him for some, baby? I'll wait right here." He's relieved when the boy nods and gets off the bed, leaving the phone and ascending the stairs to find Sebastian.

His brother is in the kitchen, and gives him a soft smile. "Okay?"

Nodding, wiping his eyes, and sniffling, Remington picks up the plate Sebastian had made for him and puts it in the microwave. "Gonna try and eat with Andy," he says, waiting for the microwave to beep.

"Good idea, bub." Sebastian rubs his shoulder and Remington opens the microwave, taking the plate and picking up a fork. "Give me a shout if you need a hug, okay? I know I'm not Andy, but I am your brother and I love you."

Remington nods. "Thank you, Sebby, love you." He accepts a kiss on the forehead with a soft smile and takes the food back upstairs. He sits back on the bed with the plate in his lap, picking up his phone and propping it up on a pillow. "Sebastian's wearing the most hideous clothes," the boy says to Andy, who laughs.

"I love the relationship you have with him," Andy responds, "you're such good friends."

With the silver fork in his hand, Remington stabs a bit of scrambled egg. "He's annoying as fuck but I couldn't fucking live without him."

Andy watches Remington eat, hand covering his mouth. "I hate to know what you say about me behind my back," he jokes, "cute hair."

Remington whines at the compliment. "If only you knew the shit I say about you," he plays along, "where are you?"

The man shrugs. "Some shitty hotel room. Guess what happened last night?"

The boy glances up at the door when Sebastian peers in, checking Remington is okay. Once he's sure his brother is alright, he closes the door and leaves them to it. "What's that?" Remington asks.

"So I'm on stage and everything is going fine, and then all the lights go out and the speakers die or something and we're just there in the dark, confused as fuck, and the audience is screaming at us, booing, and the whole show just goes to shit." He chuckles. "So I try and find out what's happened and everyone is telling me different things so we end the show an hour early. To make up for it, we agree to take pictures with everyone outside, and holy fuck, I have so much fucking respect for you doing that every night on every fucking tour. One night doing that and I'm exhausted. You're literally a super hero."

Remington laughs. "It gets easier after a few tours." He looks down at the plate and sighs. There's more than half left to eat.

"How're things with Faye?"

Remington is glad for Andy taking his mind off the food. "Really good. She's been coming round quite a lot and I'd be surprised if her and Sebastian didn't get together soon. It's nice that they like each other because I just want him to be in love and happy."

Smiling at both what he's saying and also at the fact that he's not given up on eating, Andy stands up and stretches. "You're adorable," he says, "here, look at the view I have." He walks over to the small window with the phone.

"I'm not jealous," Remington laughs, "what a nice wall."