Trigger warnings: Mentions of PTSD, depression/suicide (All brief this is mainly fluff YW)

The next night, Andy heard Remington scream, was lying awake when the sound broke through the sleeping house. He sat up, hesitated for a moment, and got out of bed. 

The door to Remington's room was closed, and again, he hesitated. It felt almost out of bounds, imposing on his space at such an ungodly hour - it was sometime past four am - but he knew this feeling was silly. Remington had slept in his bed just a few nights ago. 

He knocked on the door and waited. There was no movement or sign of life from inside, and as he was turning to return to his room, the handle rattled. He turned back around and tipped his head to the side, furrowed his brows. Remington was crying, or at least, trying to stop himself crying, and had a blanket loose over his shoulders. Andy observed him before asking, "Nightmare again?" 

Remington wiped his eyes with a corner of the blanket, nodded. "Sorry," he mumbled. "For waking you." 

"You didn't. I couldn't sleep anyway. You okay?" 

"Fine." 

"As if I'm gonna believe that. Can I come in?" 

Remington nodded, left the door open and sat on the bed, pulled his knees up. Beside him, Andy exhaled as though deep in thought. 

"You know," he begun. "I get nightmares sometimes, too." 

Remington looked at him, sniffled. 

"Not so much anymore, but a while ago, I got them most nights. Not about Gregory, mind you." 

"What about?" Remington asked. He knew it was probably a step too far, but in that moment, he didn't care. 

"I used to create these scenarios in my mind. Things to do with my staff and even my customers. Them, I suppose, ganging up on me and staging violent protests in aid of me overdosing. It was my suicidal thoughts manifesting themselves, that's what Abigail said. Like my brain was trying to solidify these constantly changing thoughts, like I was trying to make sense of it by scaring myself. It was horrible. I sometimes think it was what drove me to that first attempt, which I guess means they were successful." He shook his head. "Anyway, I ramble. I don't mean to compare traumas. It just helps me to know someone else has dealt with something similar to me when I'm struggling. You can tell me to fuck off and I won't be offended." 

Wiping his eyes, Remington looked at him again. "No," he said. "It does help. Thank you." 

"I'm sorry you're having them. Gregory really fucked up. I could tear his insides out, deep fry them, and stuff him with them like a taxidermised fucking animal." 

"You have a disturbing imagination for hurting people." 

"Makes up for how soft I actually am, or something." After a moment, he added, "We should go back to bed, though. I'm keeping you up." 

"Not like I'd have gone back to sleep, anyway." Remington yawned as if on cue, and after, he shook his head and said, "Thanks for checking on me." 

"Course. Happy to. I'll let you get some sleep." Andy stood, but Remington reached for his hand, pulled him back down to his previous place on the edge of the bed. He looked at the younger with a raised eyebrow. 

Remington was hesitant. He held Andy's gaze in the darkened room until he yawned again. 

"What is it?" Andy asked. 

"Your bed," Remington mumbled slowly. 

"My bed..." 

"Please?" 

Andy could have dissolved into a puddle of tears at the expression that accompanied the plea. "You want to sleep in my bed," he concluded. 

Remington said nothing, but the tears that were in his eyes spilled onto his cheeks. 

"Well, what're you waiting for? Come on. My bed awaits." 

Wiping persistent tears away with the back of his hand, Remington stared at him. 

"You're impossibly adorable. I want to wrap you up and never let you go." 

Please. 

Andy stood, pulled Remington up with him, walked with him across the hall and into his bedroom. "Husband, bed," he said, pushed him gently towards his bed, where he fell onto his back and continued wiping at his eyes. Andy tugged the covers from under them and lay where he had been when he heard the scream, patted the spot beside him, waited for Remington to move. 

"You're almost naked," Remington said between sniffles, and Andy chuckled, hooked an arm around his waist, pulled him right against his chest. 

"I am," he confirmed. "Lucky you." 

The contact made Remington momentarily stop moving altogether. It still felt like he was overstepping boundaries by being so close to Andy, despite the fact they were married and they'd hugged before. 

"What are you, the tin man? You're stiffer than a tree." 

Remington loosened up, let himself relax into the warmth of the bed and Andy's body. 

"That's better." Andy begun stroking his knuckles over Remington's shoulder. "If you scream in my ear, I'll scream back." 

"You can't scream, your voice is too low. You'll just, like-" he proceeded to make a sound that was something between an orgasmic moan and a zombie's groan, and Andy bit back the need to laugh out loud. "Like that." 

"Like that. Okay. Sure." 

"You're my husband." 

"Did this only now occur to you?" 

"No, I mean...you're my husband and I'm in your bed and you're nearly naked." 

"You're obsessed with me being nearly naked, I might just strip completely. But yes. You're in my bed, and you are my husband." 

Remington hummed, the sound absorbed into Andy's chest. 

"In all seriousness, if you do have another nightmare, you know I'm a very good hugger." 

"And you're nearly naked." 

"If that helps?" 

"It does." 

"Well, then, that too. You know what." He reached beneath the covers and kicked off his final piece of clothing.

Remington looked up at his face with a growing blush. "You're very naked," he whispered, like Andy wasn't aware. 

"Mhm." 

"How am I meant to sleep now, when I know that you're very very naked?" 

"You could start by closing your eyes and being quiet." 

"But I know..." 

"Do you want to look, so then you won't have to imagine anymore?" 

"I don't-" 

"Honey, please." 

Remington's face broke into a grin. "Yes please." 

"Don't say please, I'm not a hooker." He lifted the covers from his hips, said, "Can't say I've ever shown anyone my dick to make them go to sleep before."