Trigger warning: mentions of depression

Remington had never been in Andy's bedroom before, hadn't even seen inside. It wasn't that Andy was forbidding him, just that there was no need. He had his own room with everything he needed, not to mention the things Andy kept buying for him - vinyls and framed pictures and books and blankets. 

But tonight, after dinner was over and his brothers had gone to bed in the spare rooms, Remington softly knocked on the door. It opened a minute later to Andy, who was wiping tears from his face and who said as brightly as he could, "What's up?" 

Remington passed his weight from foot to foot. He hadn't planned this far ahead. "Uh, I...is this a bad time?" 

"No, you're alright. Do you need something?" 

"I just wanted to, uh, ask if you're, uh, if you're okay." 

Andy smiled for a brief few seconds. "Oh. That's good of you. I'll be fine."

"Just because my brothers, you know, they say shit like that a lot. You know, the whole 'I want him to die' thing. Don't take it personally." As if that's gonna help, you dumb fuck. 

"Listen," Andy begun. "I get it. I do. I get why they're angry and I don't blame them. It's okay." 

"It's just..." He hesitated. "I don't know. I just felt bad." 

"Don't. It's not your fault. It's not theirs, either. I got you into this and they have a right to want me dead. Really, it's okay." 

"Okay," Remington said, then, "I don't, just so you know. Want you dead, I mean. I don't." 

"Thank you." 

Remington decided now to change the subject. Maybe he could raise Andy's mood a little bit that way. "I tried all the clothes," he said. 

"Yeah? What do you think?" 

"They're awesome. The dark pink one, it's heavenly." 

"That's my favourite, too," Andy said. "Do they all fit okay?" 

"Yeah. It's like they're made for me." 

"That's what every man who tries them on tells us. It's amazing how good a proper fitting dress can make you feel, huh?" 

"You're doing God's work." 

Andy smiled again. "Thank you. Actually, you wanna help me with something? You seem to have a good eye." 

"Sure." 

"Alrighty. It's just over here. See, I've been designing a new line, but this one dress just isn't looking right." He pressed a button on his laptop keyboard and the screen lit up. On it were digital drawings of three dresses, and Andy pointed to the one on the right. "Any ideas?" 

Remington studied it.

"I think it's the collar that's making it look off but I've been staring at it for so long I'm going blind to it."

"What's that bit for?" Remington asked, hovering his finger over the screen. "It looks out of place."

Zooming in on the top half of the drawing, Andy hummed. "Yes, you're right."

"I like the waist."

"Thank you. Me too."

"If you took out that bit, and made the collar a little longer, would that work?"

Andy picked up the laptop and sat on the bed with it. "Let's see," he said, and spent a few moments making the edits to the drawing. "Sit if you like."

Remington did, and looked around him. The room wasn't much bigger than his.

"You seem very worried about your brother telling me to die for someone who's basically been kidnapped by me." Andy spoke without looking up from the screen. "I didn't expect you to care. If anythjng, I expected you to agree with them."

Is this the part where you hit me? "I just don't like it. I don't think anyone should be told they should die."

"No one?"

"Maybe, like, a Nazi." He watched Andy's fingers on the laptop screen, which, he realised, was a touchscreen.

Andy hummed. "I'm not a good person for what I've done to you. You shouldn't not want me dead. I'd want me dead, if I were you."

"You're still a good person."

Now, Andy looked at him.

"You're a voice for so many men."

"Anyone can design dresses."

"Why are you so negative about it?"

"I love my company, of course I do, but it doesn't make me perfect. I've done shit. I've ruined your life, I've probably ruined your brothers' lives." He looked back at the screen. "Anyway, what are we thinking now?"

"I love it."

"Great. Thank you for your help."

And I've pissed you off. Will you hurt me now?

Andy closed the laptop. "I should go to bed. I've got work in the morning."

Remington stood from the bed. "Yeah, uh, I'll go. Sorry for, uh, bothering you."

"No, I appreciate it. These dresses will be a hit. Have a good night."

"You too."

Once Remington was gone, Andy cried. He didn't want Remington to care how he was, or to be bothered by what his brothers were saying to him. It wasn't fair, and Sebastian was right.

He was disgusting and he did deserve to die.