Trigger Warning: Mentions of depression, abuse, PTSD, eating disorder/weight, anxiety 

At the dining table, Remington sat uncertainly, Andy opposite, and looked at the plate in front of him. There wasn't a large amount on it, just two sliced, boiled potatoes, a few small chunks of broccoli, and a small puddle of pasta sauce without any pasta. He imagined what Holly would say if she were to see. That's gonna go straight to your waist. Don't even think about it. He sat on his hands because they had begun to shake. 

Andy poured them both a glass of orange juice, suggested he tried that first, but Remington insisted he wasn't allowed. "You're allowed anything you want," Andy said. He didn't know, by now, how many times he'd said something similar to the boy. 

Remington's eyes found the glass. After a moment, he pulled a hand free and wrapped it around the drink, hesitated, and asked, "Promise?" 

"I promise." 

He sipped the fruit juice and caught Andy smiling, put the glass down to cover his face. "You're gonna punish me," he mumbled, dread creeping from between his fingers. 

Andy's smile faded. "No, honey, I'm never gonna do anything of the sort." 

"But..." Voice lowering to a whisper. "You...You smiled." 

"Because I'm proud of you." 

"Not...Not 'cause it was a-a trap?" 

Andy had concern painted all over his face. "A trap? No, absolutely not. Never." 

Remington bit his lip. 

"Is that something she did? Tell you to it was okay to do something and then punish you for it?" 

He nodded. 

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. That's so unfair." 

"So...So no punishment?" 

Andy shook his head. "No punishment, not ever. I promise." 

"Okay." 

"I'm sorry I scared you." 

Remington wiped his eyes. He hadn't realised they were wet. "Not your fault." 

"Not yours, either." 

"I can have more?" He was looking at the glass again. 

"Of course. Have as much as you like. There's more in the fridge, too." 

"And no punishment," Remington repeated, reassuring himself. 

"No punishment. Drink the juice before you get scurvy." 

The silly comment almost made Remington smile. He wiped his eyes again, drying the last of the tears, and picked up the glass. "No punishment," he whispered, rim against his lips. 

"None," Andy confirmed. He kept his gaze away from the younger this time, checked his phone, looked up from the screen when Remington spoke again. 

"I can...I can eat?" 

"Of course." 

"Really?" 

"You can eat and drink whatever you like and you'll never be punished for it. You'll never be punished for anything. Unless you, like, rob a bank, which I can't imagine you'd ever do." 

Remington sipped the orange juice again, said, "I don't need to rob a bank. I'm already rich." 

Andy chuckled, picked up his fork. "In theory, how would you rob a bank? What would be your plan of action?" 

"Uh, I don't know. Oh, yes I do. I'd dress up as Sebastian, with a stupid wig to match his hair, and then just, like, steal shit." 

"Steal shit," Andy repeated. "Sounds like a flawless plan." 

"You could be my wing man." 

"I would love to." 

"Cool." He replaced the glass on the table and looked at his plate. "And you promise no punishment?" 

Andy stabbed a potato. "I one hundred percent promise you, no punishment." 

"Okay." 

"You got this." 

Remington took the fork in his hand, which was shaking. "No punishment," he whispered, and again. Trying to soothe himself. "Promise?" 

"I promise on everything I have." 

"Okay." He sunk the prongs of the fork into a piece of broccoli and lifted it from the plate, repeated, "No punishment," in a barely-there voice, and kept his eyes down as he brought it to his mouth. 

Andy wanted to say something, to tell him he was proud, but didn't want to accidentally stunt the progress they had just made, so he stayed quiet, ate his own food. 

Remington swallowed the vegetable and wiped his eyes. They were wet again. "You promise?" He asked. 

"Pinkie promise," Andy said, and after a hesitation, Remington held his hand over the table, wanted the promise to be secured. Andy linked their little fingers. 

Slowly, Remington continued to eat the small meal, stopping every few mouthfuls to check Andy still promised, and once he was finished, he promptly burst into tears, covering his face with his hands because he worried that if Andy saw, he'd change his mind and decide he did need punishing. 

"You want some more juice, love?" Andy asked, getting up and putting both their plates by the sink. He re-filled Remington's glass despite getting no answer, left it on the table for him. 

Remington moved his hands enough to see over them, looking through glistening eyes. 

"I'm really proud of you." 

"You are?" 

"Always." 

Dropping his arms into his lap, Remington sniffled. "Oh. Thanks." 

"I just need to call my manager about a few things. If you need anything, lemme know, okay?" 

He nodded. 

Like earlier, Andy blew him a kiss, and smiled when Remington did.