Trigger Warning: Suicide, self-harm, blood/injury

Andy put both his hands on Remington's face, made it impossible to look away, and said, "I'm not leaving you." 

Remington closed his eyes and regretted it; tears finally won the battle. He opened them again and blinked, tried to push the tears back in, but they wouldn't stop, and he kept blinking until he couldn't see. 

"Baby," Andy said softly. "Baby, stop. It's okay. It's okay. Crying is okay. Let it happen. You're okay." 

"Get off me," Remington muttered, desperate to regain control. He grabbed at Andy's forearms. 

"I don't know what's been going on with you, but you need to listen to me now, okay? You're allowed to feel whatever you're feeling, you don't need to hide it with anger or anything else. You're a human, you have emotions, there's nothing wrong with any of them. Let yourself cry, baby. It's okay." 

Shaking his head, Remington harshly shoved Andy back, a pain shooting up his side. He gritted his teeth and kept trying to push the tears back inside. 

"Jesus," Andy said suddenly, alarmed. "Remington, Jesus Christ, you're bleeding. Fuck. You should have said you were hurt." 

Remington wrapped his arms around himself to keep the cuts hidden. "Get out," he begged, continuing to fight the tears despite there being no point. 

Ignoring the demand, Andy forced his arms apart, held his wrists against the table, stood so close they could have kissed. "You have to stop now," he said. "You have to stop, okay? You're hurt. You can't pretend you're not when I can see the blood. You have to stop." 

"That's what I'm going to do!" Remington shouted, a gush of sobs escaping, and he wriggled in Andy's grip, tried to free his hands so he could cover his face. "That's what I'm going to do, Andy! But you won't go and-and-and why won't you go? Why won't you go?" 

"How did this happen?" Andy asked, and Remington shook his head furiously, wouldn't answer. "How, Remington?" 

"Why does it-why does it fucking matter how? It's working, isn't it? It's working, and you're going to ruin it! You're going to ruin it like you ruin everything and I hate you! I hate you so much!" 

Andy's eyes filled and he blinked. "You did this? You did this to yourself? Baby, baby, baby, no. No, no, no. You listen to me, okay? I need you to listen to me now." 

"Let go of me," Remington cried, beginning to thrash about. 

Andy didn't loosen his grip. "Is that was this is about? You're trying to push us all away so that you can-so that you can kill yourself? Is that what you've been doing all this time? Trying to get us to hate you so that we won't miss you? Baby, no. Look at me. Open your eyes. No. I love you so much. We all love you so much. I'm so sorry you feel like this. Fuck, I'm so sorry. You're so special, you don't deserve any of this. I'm so sorry. I love you so much." 

"Let go," Remington pleaded. "Let go, please. Please. I can't-I can't do it. I can't do it. Please. Let go. Let me go. I can't, I can't." He yanked at his arms, trying to free them, but Andy held them down. 

"Stop fighting," he said quietly. "You need to let me help you now, okay? Because I love you and I will always love you, and no amount of 'you know nothing's could make me love you any less. Let me try and make it better, please. You don't need to be on your own." 

"You need to hate me," Remington cried.

Andy shook his head. "Baby, never. Never. Will you let me help you?" 

"Get off me." This time, at the sharp pain that shot through him, he cried and fell forwards into Andy, legs failing beneath him, but Andy had his arms around him. He tried weakly to break out of the embrace, but everything was failing and he couldn't breathe. 

"Baby, baby, stop," Andy whispered. "It's okay. It's okay. I've got you. Stop fighting. It's okay. You need to let me help you. You're hurting so much. I know you are. You're hurting everywhere. Just let me help. No need to fight me." Avoiding the bloody ribs, Andy guided Remington into the bathroom, a difficult task with the younger's weak but persistent protesting and the fact that half of his torso was sliced up, making it hard to have a secure hold on him. 

In the bathroom, Remington continued pleading to be left alone as Andy made him sit. He tried to stand but his body protested and the sobs got worse. 

Andy knelt before him and held both his hands. "You're hurting so bad," he said quietly. "And you need it to stop. And I know how hard it is to believe it will stop, but I promise, the way you're feeling now will not be how you always feel. I promise. It might take a while, and I know how scary that is when you need it to stop now, but I can't let you kill yourself. I can't. You're so special and you deserve to see that, and I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry, that you can't. I'm so sorry. Please let me help you." 

Remington pulled his hands away. "I don't-I don't want help." 

Taking his hands again, Andy held them tight. 

Pulling away this time was too much effort, and Remington leant his head back against the wall he was sitting against and closed his eyes. His ribs screamed again and he dug his fingers into Andy's hands and continued to sob.