Trigger Warning: Mentions of depression, panic attack, blood, self-harm, suicide

Andy didn't spend much time with the interns the following day, since they were working with his head of designs, and his usually good mood made him feel so productive that he ended up doing very little, because he wanted to do everything all at once and couldn't settle on one task at a time. 

Of course, this failure to complete anything made his mood sink, and by early evening, he had sunk to such an extent that he might as well never have been happy in the first place.

The house was quiet when he opened the door and locked it behind himself, and he left his suit jacket over the back of the couch on which he sat, unsure of whether he was going to cry, have a panic attack, or something else entirely.

He sat there for a while, on the edge of something, until there was a knock on the door and he stood to answer it. Andy was faced with his parents. He swallowed back tears. "What?" He asked. 

"Andrew, you need to apologise to us. The way you've been acting lately is unacceptable."

"I'm an adult, stop treading me like a kid," he mumbled. The last thing he wanted now was an argument, but he didn't know how to stop it from happening. He wasn't going to allow them to bully him into apologising for something out of his control, something that was controlling him. 

"You're acting like an entitled brat," Chris said, and Amy nodded in agreement. 

"Great, thanks for the feedback. Appreciate it." 

"Andrew, just say sorry." 

"No. You say sorry." He took his phone from his pocket - it was new, since he smashed the last one - and sent a short text to Abigail; 'Will call later.'

"Are you seriously texting right now?" 

"Yes. I'm texting. If you have a problem with it, take it up with my lawyer." 

"Stop being so immature." 

"I'm not doing this," he mumbled, pushing the door and groaning when it was opened again. "Seriously, not now." Again, he pushed the door, this time locked it before they could push back, and stood against it. Now he knew what he was on the edge of, because the edge he was on no longer, and in his usual panic-attack ritual, he begun to pace. 

Like the last time, he tasted the blood before he realised how deeply he'd bitten, and like the last time, pulled his arm away with alarm, watched himself bleed, too far into the attack to care about how to stop it. 

He kept pacing, at some point returning his teeth to his arm, again without realising until skin was broken. Startling him, Remington came down the stairs and promptly stopped moving when he saw what was happening. Then, collecting himself, Remington took Andy's hands and made him stand still, ignored the blood that was sticky beneath his fingers. "It's okay," he said, and shaking his head, Andy fought through gasps. Remington hugged him, dragged his fingers up and down his spine. 

Later, once Andy was calm and had let Remington tend to his arm, he called Abigail, said when she answered, "So...I did it again." 

"Bit yourself?" 

"Yep." 

"When? Just now?" 

"Like an hour ago. I was having a panic attack. Because my parents came by again and basically made my mind implode, and I swear, I didn't mean to, but-" 

"Hey, Andy. Slow down. I know you didn't mean to. It's okay. Did you take care of the wounds?" 

"Remington did." 

 "Oh, he's aware? That's good. And now how are you feeling?" 

"Like I just bit myself and that my parents hate me." 

"Why do you think they hate you?" 

"Do you want a list?" He sighed. "They keep asking for me to apologise. Well, telling me. And I don't know what they want me to apologise for? Like...being depressed? Attempting suicide? How is that my fault? It's not my fault, right? It's not like I did something to make me this way. Did I? I'm not, like, responsible for being so fucked, am I? Because I don't know what I'll do if it's because of something I've fucking done." 

"Andy, no. Stop. None of how you're feeling is your fault. You have a mental illness. It's not your fault. Okay? Not your fault." 

Andy breathed out, calming himself before he managed to have two attacks in one evening. "Okay. Not my fault." 

"It sounds like they're unable to understand what you're dealing with." 

"Well, it doesn't help that they're treating me like a kid. And I told them already what's going on, you know. Why I'm upset with them and everything. And they still want me to say sorry. Like...I don't know. Have I done something to them? Like, did I say something I don't remember saying? I'm losing my mind, Abigail. Why would they be so angry with me without a cause? I must have done something." 

"Andy, unless you told them first that you hate them, or anything similar, do not blame yourself. I don't know your parents, of course, but from what you've told me, I think they're just confused as to how to treat you. You said this started after your second attempt?" 

"Yes." 

"Yeah, that makes sense. I think they're trying to over-parent you." 

"What? Why?" 

"Again, I don't know your parents, but it is a thing that can happen. Your second attempt scared them and now they're trying to, in space of a better word, prevent you from attempting again. Reverting to old parenting methods as a way for them to feel more in control of you, and therefore more in control of your emotional state. I know it sounds weird, because you're thirty-one, but regardless of age, you're their son and they're gonna want you to be safe. They're just taking it too far. Telling you to apologise is, I imagine, their way of trying to gain back their parental authority. And the more parental authority the have over you, the better they'll feel about your safety. Does that make sense?" 

"So how do I make them stop?" 

"I suggest confronting them and telling them that, while you appreciate their concern and understand they're worried, you're okay and would feel more at ease without them treating you the way they currently are." 

"Well, I'm not doing that." 

"I understand why you might not want to, but the longer you don't, the worse it's going to get between you and them. And if you're already having panic attacks because of it, I really don't think it's going to be good to let it continue." 

"Over-parenting," Andy said. "Sounds like them."