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Sorry this update has taken so long. Go check out Stranger Danger if u haven't already :)

Trigger Warning: Depression, self-harm, suicide 

Abigail could tell almost as soon as Andy entered her office that something was wrong. She waited for him to sit down, but he didn't speak. "How was your morning?" She asked. 

He started to cry, shook his head, wiped at his eyes. "I don't-I don't know what I'm doing," he stuttered, doing his best to calm down. 

"In what sense?" 

"I keep hoping that as long as I-as long as I save everyone else, then maybe-maybe I'll save myself. But all it does is-is make it worse. I found Remington, and-and killed his fucking husband, and it was supposed to fix everything, but-but he won't leave his room even for food and I don't know if it's me, or something else, and he has these-these cuts on his arms but he won't talk to me and I can't do anything to help and I keep-I keep biting myself without meaning to, and I feel like everything's just fucking falling into a million fucking tiny pieces. And I don't want to be the suicidal guy I was, but right now, dying seems quite tempting."

Abigail poured him a glass of water as she spoke. "It's okay to need help, Andy. You can't always be the one to save those around you. You're allowed to need saving sometimes, too." 

"I know. I know. But I've been saved so many times. By you, by my parents, by Remington, by everyone, and I always end up...I always end up back here again, crying about how much I hate myself. Maybe I'm just...not supposed to be saved." 

"That's ridiculous and you know it. You're dealing with a complex mental illness, just because you aren't always moving forwards doesn't mean you're going backwards. Recovery isn't a straight line, don't forget that. You're able to understand and word your emotional state even at your worst, you've come a long way since your first attempt." 

Wiping his eyes, Andy mumbled, "Shut up, I don't like it when you're right while I'm in a bad mood. Tell me I'm right." 

"Then tell me something right." 

"I'm the best fashion designer in all the land?" He said, and smiled through the drying tears. 

"You're right about that." 

"Thank you. Now never tell me I'm wrong again. But seriously, I know all that, I do, I just..." 

"Think it's all a load of bullshit most of the time?" 

"Yep." 

She nodded. "Nothing wrong with that. Recognising your thoughts is half the battle. You're worried about Remington and it's making you spiral, would you agree with that?" 

"Not spiral, plummet. But honestly, I don't know where all that crying came from, I was no where near tears until I saw you. Maybe it's your awful clothes." 

"Sometimes you can ignore how you're feeling until you're directly reminded of it. You most likely associate my face with your mental state, and so seeing me made it all come to the surface." 

"Then, please can you put a mask on?" 

Abigail couldn't help but to smile at that. "Your sense of humour will never abandon you, Biersack. It's truly devoted to you." 

"What can I say, I'm never too sad for a shitty joke. But what should I do to help him? Since clearly what I'm doing currently isn't working." 

"It's hard to answer that when I don't know him or the situation well, but I suggest letting him know you're there and that you care, tell him you're worried. Maybe offer him something you know he likes, whether it be food or something else entirely." 

"Okay. Thanks." 

 * * * 

It was as though Remington had heard Andy's conversation with Abigail, for he was waiting on the man's bed that evening. 

Andy halted when he noticed him, halfway through unbuttoning his shirt, and didn't know whether to smile or cry. He ended up staring, until he collected himself, sat beside him, and asked, "Pizza?" 

Remington nodded, and so, at half past midnight, they ordered takeaway pizza and ate it in Andy's bed. 

"I think I need help," Remington said finally. "I've gone insane. I keep seeing things." 

"You're not insane," Andy replied. "But I'll get you help. You're gonna be just fine. Now will you please stop hiding away in there? I miss you." 

"Okay." 

Moving the box to the side, Andy pulled Remington into his lap, held him tight. "And if you are insane, I've been at it for years, so join the club, my darling. It's the hottest club there ever was." 

"You make it sound like a sex club." 

"We can turn it into a sex club. All you have to do is say erratic." 

Remington snorted. "You're such an idiot." 

"Yes, but I'm married to you, so I can't be that much of an idiot. Now finish the pizza before I do, I'm already way too full." 

With the last slice, Remington settled into Andy and listened for his heartbeat. Everything else might have been a hallucination, his mind pulling tricks on itself, but that man - his husband- was undeniably and beautifully real. 

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