Trigger Warning: V brief mentions of self-harm

Andy took Remington with him to the studio everyday for a week, leaving him in the same room as always, bringing him hot chocolate from the vending machine when he had some time to spare. On the eight day - the last before a three day break - Remington asked about the 'good people' that Andy knew, so he offered to introduce them. 

"What?" Remington then asked. "Big word, don't know." 

"Oh. Sorry. I just mean, do you want to meet them? They're dying to meet you." 

"Dying..." 

"Desperate. They're desperate to meet you. Sorry."

"Why do they want to meet me?" 

"Well, they've seen you with me every morning. I've not told them anything more than your name, but they've been begging me to let them meet you all week." 

"Why is my name Remington?" 

"Why did I choose it? I think it suits you. It's a pretty name, you're a pretty person." 

"Oh. Okay." He wrapped the belt chain around his fingers. Since Andy gave it to him, he had it almost constantly, like the ring. "I don't go too near, in case." 

"Alright. Come with me." Andy lead him through multiple door, smiling when he stopped to peer inside a vending machine. "You want anything from inside?" 

"Biersack!" 

Andy spun around. "CC. Meet Remington." 

"The famous Remington. What a pleasure." 

Remington looked at Andy for a translation, and the drummer raised an eyebrow. 

"He's happy to meet you," Andy said. "Sorry, CC, he struggles with the language. Try keep your words simple. How come your cheek is cut?" 

CC touched his cheek. "Oh. Me and Lonny were playing catch with a fork. He throws very violently. Where are you from, Remington? What country?" 

"I...what?" 

"You're not English, where are you from? Hold on, I think I know some Spanish. Uh, me gusta esqui?" 

"You just said you like skiing," Andy laughed. "Quit interrogating him, you'll scare him off. 

CC pushed coins into the vending machine and pressed a button. "What are you, like, friends, or more?" 

"Just friends," Andy said. "Not that it matters to you." 

Remington watched the machine spit out a packet of Haribo's. 

"Vending machine party?" Came Lonny's voice as he approached. "Oh. Is this Remington? Hi, I'm Lonny." He held his hand out and Remington jumped back, using Andy as a shield. "Jesus." 

CC opened the packet of sweets and offered the around. Remington took one look inside and promptly burst into tears, alarming the three others. "They're not supposed to make you cry," CC said, trying to lighten the mood that he didn't realise wasn't light. 

"Shit," Andy muttered. "Alright. Come with me. We go back to the room now, okay?" 

Remington nodded, followed him while wiping his eyes, leaving Lonny and CC to wonder what the hell just happened. 

In the room, Remington sat down and pulled the blanket up to his eyes, used it to soak up tears. 

"Sorry, that was my fault. Too much at once. It's okay." 

"I'm not from a country." 

"I know. He's just confused about why you don't understand some words, that's all." 

"Not my fault I don't know." 

"Absolutely not." 

Remington looked at Andy. "I don't sleep well before." 

"No? I'm sorry to hear that." 

"Because I think about brothers, and then no sleep." 

"Is that why you're crying?" 

"And so many colours inside the thing. Makes my head bad." 

"Bad? You mean it hurts? It made you head hurt?" 

"Yes, and won't stop." 

Andy hummed. "It will stop. You just need to lie down and close your eyes for a while." 

"I want bed at your house." 

"Later." 

Remington shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "No. Now. Not like it here today." 

"If I take you back, I'll have to leave you there on your own until later." 

"I just stay in bed." 

"Okay. I'll drive you home. You have to promise not to touch anything that might hurt you." 

"I just stay in bed," he repeated. "What hour is it?" 

"Right now, it's eleven." 

"Okay." 

Andy walked him out to the car, holding the edge of the blanket to keep it from dragging on the ground. He drove without speaking, imagined that if he was more familiar with being in a car, Remington would have fallen asleep already. Instead, he stayed awake, and though the tears stopped, Andy could tell his mood wasn't improving. 

In the spare bedroom, Remington crawled under the covers and pulled the blanket up to his eyes. 

"I'll see you later," Andy said. "I'm gonna leave a glass of water and a sandwich on the side if you want it. Make sure you drink all the water, it'll help your head." 

"Okay." 

"Be careful in the bathroom, the floor can be slippery if any water splashes on it." 

"What?" 

"Watch your feet when you go to the bathroom so you don't fall over." 

"Okay." 

Andy turned on the bedside lamp, closed the curtains, and switched off the main light. "I'll be back by hour twenty, okay? And remember, ears instead of cutting." 

"Okay." 

"I hope you sleep better." 

"I try." 

Andy found it challenging to leave the house, worried he'd return later to find Remington with a cracked skull in the bathroom or a deep gash in the kitchen. He assured himself that everything would be fine; Remington really was exhausted, it was unlikely he'd want to explore the house. Besides, he'd survived his whole life in a crumbling cottage with a damp, mould-ridden bed, it wasn't like he couldn't look after himself.