Andy cleaned and dried Remington's clothes, which were so torn they might as well have been net curtains. When he gave them to Remington, the younger shook his head and pushed them away. 

"No," he said. "Not mine." 

"Yes, they are. They're just clean now, that's all." 

"No." 

"You have to wear something." 

"Blanket." 

"You can't live in a blanket for the rest of your life, as nice as it sounds." 

Remington pulled the material tighter. 

"Look, I know it's confusing, but you need some clothes. Won't you at least try some of mine and see if you like them? Or I can show you some online sites and you can choose some to order?" 

"No." 

"Why not?" 

"I want mine." 

"These are yours." 

Remington shook his head again. He looked to be close to tears, and though Andy was frustrated, he knew he couldn't snap. It was traumatic for Remington, there was no doubt about that; he'd just found out the place he had lived in for his entire twenty-something years on Earth would be destroyed and was now in a strange place with a strange man he didn't know, being told to wear things he'd never seen before.

Andy sighed. He was already late for the studio. "You need to get dressed so you can come with me," he said calmly. It was nearly nine am and he'd hardly slept, kept awake by worries of what would happen if Remington decided to leave. It'd only be a matter of time before a car struck him down.  

"Come where?" 

"To work. I'm late." 

Remington stared at him. He did that a lot, Andy had noticed. "People?" 

"Yes, but-"

"No people." 

"I can't leave you here on your own." 

"Then I go home." 

"You can't go home. We've been through this." 

Remington rubbed his eyes. 

"You can have a nice quiet room away from everybody and I'll get you food and drink and whatever, but you need to come with me, okay?" 

"No." 

"Remington, please." 

"My house now." 

"No. It's not safe there anymore. Besides, you're still pretty badly injured and shouldn't be outside where dirt can get into your cuts. How about you bring the blanket with you? Would that help?" 

Remington, who was sitting on the edge of the spare bed, his messy, shoulder length hair in dire need of a proper wash and probably a trip to the hairdresser's, rubbed his eyes again, then blinked repeatedly until his eyes were undeniably wet.

The sight made Andy's frustration melt, at least for the time being, and he sat beside the younger. "Okay," he begun. "How about this. You come with me now, and on the way back, we can see your house. But you can't live there anymore. You can get anything you want from inside, say goodbye, and then we come back here. How does that sound?" 

"But the evil people..." 

"If the evil people are there, we'll have to stay in the car. But you can still have a last look at the house." 

Remington wiped his eyes with a corner of the blanket. "Okay," he mumbled. "But no clothes." 

"You can't not wear clothes. How about a hoodie? I think you'll like a hoodie." 

"What?" 

Andy stood. "Come with me," he said. In his bedroom, he took out a plain black hoodie that was soft inside, handed it to Remington, who put it on the bed and looked at it. "What do you think? Put your hand inside, it's all fluffy like the blanket." 

Remington did. "Okay," he said. "I wear this." 

"Good. And I think I have some tracksuit bottoms to match. Ah, here they are. Alright. You put these on, and then we can go, alright?" 

"I bring blanket." 

Andy smiled. "Of course." 

"Okay." 

In the car, Remington sat with the blanket pulled up to his eyes, covered them whenever he caught sight of a person outside, and Andy drove without attempting to create conversation, parking in his spot beside the studio and getting out. He opened Remington's door. 

"No," Remington said. 

"What's wrong? I really need to go in, I'm late." 

"It's evil." 

"What's evil?" 

"That." He pointed towards the building. 

Andy sighed. "No. It's not. It's good." 

"I don't like it." 

"Remington-" 

"No. Home." 

"We're going to see your home later, remember? Please get out the car." 

Heading towards them was Lonny, who called, "Who's your guest, Biersack?" 

Remington flinched so severely he nearly hit his head on the roof of the car, swiftly pulling the blanket over his head and cowering away. 

"If you could just give us a second," Andy said hastily to Lonny, then to Remington, "It's okay. He's not evil. He's my friend." 

Under the blanket, Remington was shaking. He tried to make himself smaller.

Andy cursed beneath his breath, Lonny standing a distance away, utterly confused. "Remington," he said after a moment. "He's not evil. He's called Lonny. I see him every day. He's very nice. Please get out the car." 

In response, Remington slid off the seat and into the footwell. 

"Tell them I'll be five minutes," Andy said to Lonny before closing Remington's door, getting back in the driver's seat, and waiting until Lonny was out of sight before speaking. "Listen," he started. "I understand how scary and confusing this all must be for you, and I'm sorry for everything that's happened, but I really need you to come inside with me. I promise nobody is evil, and I'll make sure you have a room where it's just you, but I can't leave you here. Is that okay?" 

Slowly, Remington took the blanket from his head, held it just below his eyes, which were wet. "It's all wrong," he mumbled. 

"I know. But it'll get better as you become more familiar with everything. For now, please come inside. I'll get you a hot chocolate. I bet you'll like it." 

"A what?" 

"A very sweet drink." 

Remington looked up at him. 

"What do you say? Blanket and a hot chocolate? It's every human's dream." 

"What's that?" Remington asked, poking Andy's belt chain. 

The man smiled. "It makes me look cool." 

"Cool like cold?" 

"Like, interesting, I guess. I don't know. It's a hard word to define." 

"I like it," he said, moving his fingers over the metal. 

"You want it? I've got plenty." 

Remington nodded.

Unclipping the chain, Andy handed it to him, and he took it in his hand, closed his fist around it, and said, "Okay. Inside."  

Andy smiled. He waited for Remington to get up from the footwell, resisting the urge to reach out a hand, and walked with him through the entrance, lead him straight down the hall and into a small room with a couch and an armchair that was only used occasionally. "Alright," he said. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll put a sign on the door so no one bothers you. The bathroom's opposite. You want me to show you?" 

"Okay." 

Andy showed Remington how to lock the door and flush the toilet, how to turn on the tap since it was a sensor, and left him sitting on the couch to get a hot chocolate from the vending machine. When he returned, Remington was lying on the couch looking up at chain he was holding above his head. He put the drink on the table and closed the door gently, stuck a piece of paper that read; Room in use, no entry - BVB, and practically ran down the hall and into his band's studio.