Trigger warning: Mentions of sexual assault/abuse, suicide/depression

Remington was sat up in the hospital bed reading a book that Andy had brought him when the man stepped through the door. "Any good?" Andy asked, because he had been complaining about it the previous visit. 

"Better," Remington said. "Not my favourite." 

"Gone Girl is wild." 

"You're reading it?" 

"Just started the other day." Andy sat down and took his jacket off. "I fired Gregory yesterday. I wish it was all good news, but honestly...he went mental, stuck hundreds of print-outs of a photo he'd taken of you around the photography studio. I think it's only fair you know." 

Remington closed the book. "What photo?" 

"Uh..." 

"One that he took while he was-" 

"Yes," Andy cut in, before Remington had a chance to finish the sentence. "Yep. I've had my security manger going through all the computer files and deleting any copies. He's changing all the locks, too, so hopefully Gregory won't be able to do anything else." 

"Who saw?" 

"The photo? Basically everyone on the top floor. I'm sorry. I should have escorted him out myself after I fired him. I don't know what I was expecting." 

Remington looked down, played with his fingers. Andy's ring was still on his fourth, and he twisted it around. 

"It's okay if you're mad at me," Andy said. He knew it was hard for Remington to admit to having any negative feelings towards him because of the way they'd met and didn't want that inhibiting the way he spoke. 

"I'm not. I just...why would he do that?" 

"I don't know. I wish I did. Because he's a vile piece of shit?" 

"If you fired him, does that mean I don't have to be married to him anymore?" 

"He's homeless now, so yes." 

"Homeless?" 

"His house came with the job." 

"Oh." 

"What's wrong?" 

Remington looked at Andy. "You made him homeless?" 

"He made himself homeless." 

"What's he gonna do?" 

"Why do you even care? He nearly killed you." 

"I...I don't..." 

"He doesn't deserve anything, Remington. He did so much to you." Andy sighed. "You're not seriously worried about him, are you?" 

Remington was quick to respond. "No," he said. "No. I don't care if he dies. I just - I didn't think you'd do something like that just because he hurt me." 

"Hurt you? He gave you sepsis. What was I gonna do? Give him a warning? He gave you sepsis." 

"I know he did," Remington said, then shook his head. "I just didn't think I mattered that much to you. I mean, you only married me in the first place to save your career, and now you're only marrying me again so you won't have to go through it all with someone else. What does it matter to you whether or not he's punished or whatever? Yeah, he gave me sepsis, but technically, he did nothing wrong. Everyone else in his position, in your position, does basically the same thing. He was only doing what was expected of him." 

"Remington," Andy said firmly. "Don't be stupid." 

Remington stared at him. 

"No one has any right to hurt anyone, no matter what the fucking government do or say. And yes, I did only marry you to begin with to save my career, but not now. You think I'd willingly re-marry you if I didn't want to? You think I'd go through all the trouble of tracking down his house and carrying you out if I didn't care? You think I go around calling everyone my boy, huh? Come on, don't be silly." 

Not knowing how to respond, Remington continued twisting the ring on his finger. It was something he'd been longing for since they took him - a connection to Andy - and he had felt angry at his own mind for thinking like that, but now, it made sense. Of course he was longing for a connection to Andy. Of course. "I don't know," he admitted. "I thought you were just, like, possessive, or something. I don't know."  

"That too. I can openly say I am very possessive."

"So what you're saying is that-" 

"What I'm saying is that you're my boy. Is that okay?" 

Of course I longed for a connection to you. How could I not? How could anyone not? Blushing, Remington nodded.  

"Good. Now tell me how you are. No more pain?" 

"Pain's all gone." He grew serious. "Can I see my brothers soon?" 

Andy frowned. "You don't need to ask. I'm not the boss of you. That's why you call me Andy, not Andrew." 

"Oh. Right." 

"Did they take your phone when they made you marry Gregory? If so, I'll get you a new one tomorrow. You can call them. I'm sure they've been wondering why you've not been answering."

"Thanks." 

"Stop that." 

Remington shook his head, rubbed at the tape holding the feeding tube to his cheek. "Which photo did he stick everywhere?" 

Raising his eyes to meet Remington's, Andy hesitated. "How many did he take?" 

"Don't know. A couple. Not that many. It was only one time. But I remember he took one where I was, like completely naked, and I think in the others, I wasn't." 

"Ah..." 

"He used the naked one." 

"He did." 

Remington nodded, then moved his hand from the tape to his eyes, begun rubbing them in anticipation of tears that followed. "Great." 

"I'm doing everything I can to get them erased from everywhere, but you know how these things are. Once it's on the internet, who knows where it's gonna end up." 

"It's on the internet?" 

"I don't know. I really hope not." 

"What if it is?" 

"Then we deny it being you at all costs. You're so bruised up and it's so dark, I only knew it was you because I know you. No one in the office mentioned recognising you." 

"Okay." 

"And if all else fails, remember I'm very rich and money solves everything." 

Remington sniffled and nodded. It was meant as a joke, he knew it was, but it was still a great comfort to him. He wasn't sure why - probably the relief of being in a safe, comfortable bed, painless, with Andy right beside him. After those weeks in Gregory's cupboard and in Gregory's bed, being with Andy again felt like heaven. "Andy?" He mumbled, and the man hummed. "I know it's, like, not, uh, not what I should be, uh, asking for from you, but-" 

"Yes, you can have a hug," Andy cut in with a smile. "I think you deserve one. Come on, budge up a bit." On the bed, Andy sat, put his arm around Remington's shoulder and pulled him closer. 

The gesture made all of Remington's attempts at keeping his tears at bay melt away, and he sunk down into Andy's chest and cried. It was the first time they'd shared any real sort of physical contact besides when Andy had carried him because of how unwell he was, and after all the violence, all the humiliation and loneliness, he'd never needed it more. 

Stroking his hair, Andy couldn't help but shed a few tears of his own. About Remington and all that had happened to him, but also because he'd told him about the suicide and about Abigail and he'd said nothing to suggest it being a big deal. Andy craved that. His parents had made it into a big enough deal that he still hadn't spoken to them, but Remington just accepted it, and one day, Andy knew, there'd be a time when he'd need Remington to know, when he'd reach that point again, and Remington would be there. Like Abigail was. 

He'd know, and he'd react only when it was necessary to do so.