I honestly don't know if this needs a trigger warning.

The boy is in the bath when his phone rings, and answers when he sees it's Andy. "Hello," he greets, "isn't it like the middle of the night for you?"

Andy is in the tour bus, lying in bed. "Yep, but the show ended later than normal because we started late and I wouldn't go to bed without talking to you, first. Love does strange things to you."

Remington laughs. "True that. How was the show?" He picks up the cup of tea and sips it.

"Really good. Are you in the bath?"

With a hum and a smile, Remington puts the drink down. "Indeed. Do you have a problem with that?"

Andy can hear the water every time the boy moves and can almost see him, damp hair and warm skin. "Only that I'm not there with you."

Remington just smiles. "Don't say that 'cause now I just miss you more." He knocks over the tea and the mug smashes on the floor, and Remington just laughs. "Fucking hell," he mumbles, "I'll sort that later."

"What've you done?" Andy asks, amused.

The boy looks over the side of the bath. "Smashed a mug. Oops?"

"Remington, bud, you okay?" Sebastian calls up the stairs.

"Yeah," Remington shouts back, "I need a dustpan!" Andy laughing through the phone makes Remington giggle. "Shut up," he whines, "I made a mess."

"You're cute," is all Andy says in response, "don't hurt yourself with the broken mug, though, sweetheart."

Remington's heart feels full every time Andy say something like that. "I won't. Go to bed."

"Yes, sir," the older teases, "I love you. See you in a month." The mention of it only being a month brings a smile to Remington's face.

"Love you more, bye!" He hangs up and puts the phone down on the side, calling Sebastian for a dustpan and getting out of the water, careful not to stand on any broken pieces of porcelain.

The guitarist appears at the door with the dustpan, chuckling at the mess on the floor and ruffling the younger's hair. "Go get dressed, bub, I'll tidy this up."

Nodding and stepping past Sebastian, Remington pulls the towel around himself. "Have you seen Andy's red hoodie?" He asks.

"No, I haven't, actually."

"Oh, fuck, I think I've lost it," the boy mumbles, turning and going into the bedroom. He, instead, finds his onesie, pulling it on and zipping it up. When he goes downstairs, Sebastian is tipping the broken mug into the bin. He hugs his brother from behind, closing his eyes and exhaling. "I need a movie night."

Sebastian rubs his arms. "Okay, petal, movie night it is."

The boy hums . "Cuddle please," he murmurs, and releases his brother so he can turn around.

The older of the two brings Remington into his arms. It's comforting to him that he can no longer feel every bump on his spine. "Were you talking to Andy earlier?" Remington nods. "How's he doing?"

"Good. Shows are good."

"How are you doing?"

Remington has his face in Sebastian's shoulder. He just suddenly needed a hug. "'m okay." His voice is muffled by his brother's shirt and it makes him sound so innocent.

Stroking his hair, Sebastian smiles. "Good. I'm proud of you, you know? You finished all your food today."

The boy lets himself smile. "I did. Do I get a sticker?"

Sebastian chuckles. "You are doing so well dealing with everything. You know when Andy gets back, he is going to be so fucking proud of how far you've come since he left." He knows that saying stuff like this makes Remington cry sometimes. When he was with Holly, he was never told that he was strong, that he was good enough. Hell, he's so much more than just good enough. She stopped him believing in himself and it still shows today, more than two years later.

"Shut up," the boy says, "too much praise. I can't take it."

"Too much praise is a good thing. Go find a movie. I'll make popcorn, yeah?"

Remington nods and steps back. "Thank you, Sebby, your hugs make me feel better." He just pouts when the man ruffles his hair, and goes into the living room.

The evening is calm. The brothers watch the film quietly with the bowl of popcorn, and unusually, Remington doesn't fall asleep. Sebastian isn't sure whether that's a good thing or not. They go into the separate bedrooms and Remington crawls under the covers. He's upset that he can't find Andy's red hoodie but admitting that seems stupid. Instead of sleeping, he routes through the drawers looking for it, only stopping when he thinks he's about to have a panic attack.

He sits on the floor with his head between his knees and makes himself breathe. "Sebastian!" He shouts, lifting his head up when there's a hand on his shoulder.

"Stand up for me," the man says calmly, "come snuggle in bed. What's wrong?"

Remington gets to his feet and rubs his eyes. "Andy's hoodie," he whispers, "can't find it."

"We'll look in the morning, okay, but sleep now."

The boy curls into his brother's side and sighs. "Okay." Sebastian notices how he doesn't say sorry, and smiles.

He watches Remington drift to sleep and thinks about what it must be like in his head all the time. What's it like for him to be dealing with anxiety, depression, PTSD, and anorexia? It must be so hard to get through each day without feeling hopeless, but somehow he manages. Sebastian couldn't do that. He couldn't have experienced what Remington has experienced and come out alive. Not many people could do that, and still smile, laugh, love others. Remington really is so special.