Trigger Warnings: Mentions of abuse, depression, anxiety, panic attack.

"Sorry to bother you, sir." 

Andy looked up from his phone. He was sat in the waiting room after being rudely dismissed by Sebastian. 

"You're here for Remington Kropp, correct?" 

"Yeah." 

"I don't mean to alarm you, but we have a bit of a...situation." 

Andy frowned. "A situation?" He asked. "What sort of situation." 

"It's best you see for yourself, sir." 

He stood up, followed the doctor down the hall. Outside the room Remington was in, Sebastian, Emerson, Larisa, and Shy were standing, looking guilty. "What's going on?" Andy asked, but all he got from them was shrugs. 

"We aren't sure what exactly happened," the doctor told him, not yet letting him in. "My colleague heard shouting so came to check everything was okay, and these two young men were arguing. Remington was-" 

"Sorry, arguing?" Andy cut in, sending them accusing looks. 

"Yes, sir." 

"Please, it's Andy." 

"They were disturbing quite a few of our patients, actually, and will be escorted out shortly." 

"And Remington?" 

"Yes. Remington was - is - on the floor having some sort of panic attack. Both me and my colleague attempted to calm him down, but it seems having anyone in the room only makes it worse for him. I understand you were with him earlier, so I'm hoping you'll be able to help. He really should be lying down, you see." 

Andy was nodding along. "I can try," he said, and, looking at the brothers again, he shook his head. 

"He's not going near Remington," Sebastian protested. 

"Please keep quiet. Security will escort you out in a moment." 

The guitarist scoffed. "I've not done anything wrong!" He stepped away from the wall and towards Andy. "What gives him the right to go in?" 

"Leave it," Larisa said. 

"Like hell, I'll leave it. He's my brother, not Andy's! If anyone can calm him down, it's me." 

The doctor could have laughed if he wasn't maintaining his professionalism. "Just these two young men," he said as security approached. "They can wait in the car park. Andy, please go in. If you have any trouble, there's an emergency button by the bed. I'm sure it was pointed out to you earlier." 

"Yeah, thanks," Andy said politely, and as he reached for the door, Sebastian lunged at him and pushed him away. "Oh, give it a rest," he muttered as the guitarist was pulled off him and forced down the corridor, muttering about how ridiculous this all was as he went. Emerson was made to trail behind, and their girlfriends left for the waiting room. They weren't about to stand outside in the cold just because of their boyfriends' idiocy. 

In the room, Remington was still on the floor, though had more-or-less calmed down since being left alone. He snapped his head up to see who had come in and breathed out in relief at the sight of Andy, who closed the door without letting it slam.

Andy sat in the chair on the opposite side of the bed and said, "Your brother just tried to deck me." 

"Which one?" 

"Sebastian." 

"Makes sense," Remington mumbled. "Why are you so far away?" 

Andy smiled, though he couldn't see. "I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable." 

"You can come closer." 

He did, and knelt on the ground beside the younger. "You okay now? They said you were having a panic attack." 

"No, yeah. Fine now." Remington looked at Andy. "Why are they mad at me?" He asked weakly. 

"I don't think they're mad at you." 

"They're definitely mad." 

"I'm sure they'll come around. They're probably just having trouble coming to terms with it." 

Remington sighed. 

"Come on, let's get you off the floor. It's not comfy down here." 

"Can you..." 

Andy waited for him to continue. 

"Maybe not touch me?" He was hesitant, soft-spoken.

"I won't do anything without you giving consent, okay?" 

"Consent's just for sex. Are you planning on having sex with me?" 

"It's not just for sex. It's for anything." 

Slowly, Remington got up off the floor, using the edge of the bed for support. "It is?" 

"Of course. Anything that could effect you physically, could make you uncomfortable. You know. Touching, seeing someone naked, talking about something that might upset or trigger you, uh, being shown images that you wouldn't want to see. Consent is for anything." 

Sitting on the bed, Remington frowned. "Oh," he whispered. 

Andy stood, returned to the chair. "So unless you ask me to touch you in any way, I won't. I promise."

"Okay." 

"Sebastian doesn't care about consent." 

"No?" 

"He made me hold his hand. It hurt." As if needing to prove his point, Remington lifted his hand for Andy to see. There were finger-like bruised forming already. "Then he wouldn't let go." 

"I'm sorry. That's not nice. Is that why you were having a panic attack?" 

"Partly." 

Andy hummed. 

"I just don't understand why he's so angry." 

"I know. I don't understand, either. I imagine he's just very worried about you, and angry at himself for not knowing sooner what was going on." 

"But..." Remington looked at his hands in his lap. "But it's not his fault what was going on. How was he supposed to know." 

"Not your's, either," Andy reminded him. "It's one person's fault, and one person's only. And that name begins with H." 

Remington shrugged. "So many weird emotions today," he said. "Never felt so many things at once." 

"I'm not surprised. It's been a very long, very stressful day." 

"Sorry we couldn't record the song." 

"We'll get to it, I'm sure. Don't worry about it. You're much more important than any song. Even a song that I wrote." 

Remington mock-gasped, then giggled. Then, at the realisation of the fact he was laughing, promptly burst into tears. "God," he sniffled. "See. So many emotions." 

"I feel like I just made you cry." 

"No, you made me laugh. I made me cry. I'm good at it, you know. Put me in a room on my own and I'll cry just to pass the time." 

"You'd make a great actor," Andy joked. 

Again, Remington giggled, though was still crying. He didn't understand what was going on but he was thankful Andy was being so relaxed about it. "I reckon I'd be great in a vampire thing." 

"Yeah, I can totally see that. Just get you some fangs, a little fake blood. You'd suit the shit out of it." 

"They should have cast me as Damon Salvatore." 

"Yeah, fuck Ian Somerhalder," Andy laughed. "Who needs him when we've got you?" 

"Actually, he's the only reason I watched The Vampire Diaries. Have you seen his eyes? They're so blue." Now, his own eyes widened. "Huh," he said. 

Andy raised an eyebrow. 

"Guess Sebastian was right. I do have a thing for men with blue eyes. That observant fucker."