Trigger Warning: Mentions of abuse, depression, blood/injury, eating disorder/weight, self-harm.

Remington wasn't allowed to answer the door. He hadn't been for more than a year, and when the bell rang, he sat obediently on the couch, his arm in a numb sort of pain, throbbing so severely that his hand shook. He heard Holly speak, heard the words, "Is there a problem?" She had put on her sweet voice again, and he imagined she was smiling that artificial smile she was so fond of. 

"Good afternoon," said the man Remington didn't know, couldn't see. "We've had a report and it's mandatory for us to check it out. I'm sure you understand." 

"A report?" She asked innocently. 

It was the police. Andy must have gone to the station anyway. Remington could have kissed the man. 

"Yes, miss. Nothing to worry about, but we have to check these things out. Precautionary, you see." 

"What was the report?" 

"I'm afraid I can't share that information with you. May I come in?" 

Remington pictured her trying-to-look-calm face, her oh shit smile, as she stepped to the side. He heard the man come in, heard the door close. He wanted to roll his sleeve up just to he'd see, but didn't want to risk the consequences of what would happen if he didn't see, if he left under the impression that the report was false, a fabricated story.

"Just you here, is it?" He asked. 

"No. My boyfriend's here, too." 

"What's your boyfriend's name, please, miss?" 

"Remington." 

She wasn't lying. Remington expected her to have lied about his name, or about him existing all together

"And your name, please?" 

"Holly." 

"Okay, Holly. Where is your boyfriend? I'd like to speak with him." 

"Why? What about?" 

"As I said, I can't share that information with you. In here, is he?" 

Remington wanted to shout for help but he stayed quiet, as she had told him to. He looked up at the police officer when he came into the room, hoped the trace of tears and pain would be visible enough for the man to realise the report was true. 

"You must be Remington," he said. 

The singer nodded. Holly was glaring at him so he looked away. He wouldn't follow her script, not this time. He'd written his own. 

"Hello, Remington. I'm Officer Greene. How are you doing today?" 

"Uh, fine," he said, trying to sound as pretend fine as he could, which wasn't hard considering how pretend fine he really was. Then he pressed a smile that he hoped would communicate I'm lying to you. 

"I'd like to have a quick chat with Remington, please, miss," said the police man. A polite way of telling her to fuck off. Remington wished he had used the term fuck off. He'd wanted to for months. 

She sent another hard glare in her boyfriend's direction as she left, closing the door on her way out. 

Officer Greene sat down in an armchair. He had a recording device in his hand, a red light blinking on and off. "Okay, Remington. I need you to be completely honest with me right now. Can you do that?" 

You have no idea how honest I can be right now. He nodded. 

"We've had a...concerning report filed against your girlfriend. The issue was brought up by a mister Andrew Biersack, and after discovering you also reported the same thing three months ago, it's important we get to the bottom of this." 

Thank you, thank you, thank you! 

"I don't want to alarm you, but is it okay if you show me your arms?" 

Remington rolled both his sleeves up past his elbows. His left arm was as battered as he hoped it would be, deep cuts that were surrounded by red.

Officer Greene observed them for a moment. "I need you to tell me exactly how this happened," he said, maintaining a calm, professional tone. 

Remington swallowed. Everything inside him was screaming not to tell the truth, but in spite of it all, in spite of her rules, her stupid stupid rules, he opened his mouth and said without hesitating, "She makes me do it." 

"She makes you do it," the man echoed. "And does she make you do anything else, Remington?" 

"Yes." 

"What else?" 

"She makes me not eat." He'd never said it out loud like that. It felt liberating. He was being his own character for once, was reading from his own script, was acting out his own scenes. And in his play, she wasn't the beautiful protagonist who was 'fixing' a broken man, but an ugly attention whore who's only goal in life was to make happy people miserable.

Nodding and glancing down at the clipboard he had, Officer Greene scribbled something onto the paper. "And how long as this been going on? I can see you're not a healthy weight for a man your age and height." 

"I don't know. More than a year." 

"Okay. You seem very calm about all this, Remington. Is there a reason for that?" 

"Not calm," he admitted. "Just needed someone to take me seriously for so long that I won't mess it up by being not calm." 

"It must have been very distressing when you were turned away three months ago." 

"Yes." 

"I'm very sorry that happened. Apart from physical harm, Remington, does she hurt you in any other way?" 

"Yes." 

"How so?" 

"She tells me all these things. You know. I'm only pretty when I starve. I'm...I'm beautiful when I cut. All these things." 

"Okay." He noted something down. "Now, Andrew was convinced you were in serious danger. He was very scared that she was going to kill you. Would you agree with his concerns?" 

Remington nodded. He was trembling and his heart was hammering but he wouldn't let this chance of freedom run away from him because of it. This was his only chance. 

"Are you scared for your life, Remington?" His voice wasn't the same professional tone now, but was soft, gentle. It reminded Remington of Andy. 

A tear leaked from his right eye, and then his left, and he shut them, nodded. By now, he was trembling so much that his whole body shook. 

A quick scribble of something, and Officer Greene lowered the clipboard into his lap. "Okay, Remington," he said. "I'm going to arrest Holly on suspicion of domestic abuse, and I'm going to call for a car to take you somewhere a little safer, okay? We'll make sure your arm is looked at and any family members you'd like to see will be contacted, and after we've photographed your physical harm, we'll ensure you are returning home to a safe, comfortable environment. Does that all sound alright? Do you have any questions?" 

Remington wiped his eyes with sleeved hands. "You promise?" He murmured.

"I promise. Holly will be interrogated and with the evidence we've been provided with, the matching stories you and Andrew have given, your recent medical reports, the audio recording of her admitting to 'helping' you harm yourself, and Holly's suspicious behavior today, I have no doubt she will be found guilty." 

Overwhelmed with relief, Remington sobbed. He wanted to hug Andy, to thank him endlessly for saving him, and to never leave his side.