Make Me (Remdy)

We All Walk Away

Trigger warnings: Mentions of depression, suicide (brief), death (brief)

Sorryyyyy

"I'm falling in love with you."

Andy's eyes, which were closed, snap open. Not only is it completely wild to hear that from Remington, but he also hasn't heard anything of the sort for years. He doesn't know how to feel about it, doesn't know himself what that really means. That Remington wants a relationship with him?

He looks at the darkened wall for at least a minute without any sort of response. He knows Remington is waiting for one, will begin tearing his hair out if something isn't said, so he sits up and reaches for the light switch, turns on the lamp beside the bed.

Remington turns to look at him.

"You don't mean that," Andy finally says - not what anyone would want to hear after admitting such a thing. He can't look at the boy because he knows it'll only make him feel so much worse about it. "You don't mean that, you're just not used to people caring."

Remington shakes his head. "I do mean it," he says. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"You don't know it means, Remington. You don't know what comes with those words."

"Yes, I do. I do. You know I do." He sits up, too, face in a deep frown.

"You're just tired and sad, you won't mean it tomorrow."

"Yes I will."

"Remington..."

"You think I'd say that without knowing what it means? Andy, come on. Surely even you aren't that dense. And can you really sit here as though you didn't expect it?"

"I didn't expect it," says Andy defensively.

"I've been calling you hot for months, for Christ's sake."

"Yeah, and? You don't have to be in love with everything you find hot."

"You're such a fucking cunt, you know that? Are you really so fucking hollow that you can't be nice about this? Andy, I thought after everything we've told eachother, you'd at least understand why I might feel this way. God, what is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? We barely know eachother. I'm just trying to be nice to you because of the shit you've gone through and because I know what it's like to lose someone, but for the love do God, Remington, not everything comes down to being in fucking love! And no offense, but why would I ever want to love anyone after what Juliet did to me?"

"So what? You feel nothing? After all the shit we've done, every time you've been here for me when no one else has, every time I've been here for you when everyone else was too busy being pissed off with you, you seriously feel nothing?"

"Yes!"

"I thought you cared!"

"I do care, Remington, as a friend!"

"We've fucked at least four times, Andy, get over yourself! You kiss me like you fucking mean it, you came over my hand literally eight hours ago, you are not my friend, Andy! I don't do that shit with my friends!"

"Bullshit!"

Remington throws his arms in the air. "I'm so sick of having the same argument with you over and over again like we're fucking stuck in a loop. I'm sorry if you have no fucking heart, but haven't you ever considered why you're the one I always come to? When I'm missing my brothers, I come to you. When I'm having a depression spiral, I come to you. When I need someone, Andy, I come to you. Not CC, not Jinxx, not anyone. You."

"Then fucking stop!"

"Fine, I will." He throws the duvet off himself violently and gets off the bed. "You didn't need to say anything, Andy, you could have just gone to sleep. But no, you had to ruin my fucking day by making me feel like shit for having emotions! I don't know why I ever thought I could trust you with anything, you're toxic and I hate you." He takes off Andy's shirt and throws it at the man, bending down and picking up his clothes to put back on. He's beginning to cry. Andy can tell. "I was having the worst night and for a moment, you made it better, but clearly you're incapable of maintaining anything nice, because you ruined it like you ruin everything! Just like you ruined your marriage!" He throws the tray of tea and coffee at the bed angrily. "And next time you start ruining yourself, don't think for a second that I will be here to help, because I won't. Kill yourself for all I care, I'm done with you and your toxic crap."

Picking up the tea bags and coffee pouches that scatter the bed, Andy bites his bottom lip. "You're never gonna get it, are you?" He says quietly. The tone he uses throws Remington off; he sounds genuinely hurt. "You think you know me, but you don't. You think you love me, but how can you, when as soon as I don't do what you want, you say this shit to me? If really did know me, Remington, you'd know better."

"I don't want to know you."

"That's a lie and we both know it."

"You're a selfish cunt, no it isn't."

"You don't know anything about me." He shakes his head. "If you knew me, you'd understand why I got mad like this, but you don't. You just lash out with insults until you feel a little better about your own issues, and it's fucking pathetic. You're pathetic."

"You get mad because you have no heart."

"If you're leaving, just go already. I'm done with this conversation. You don't want to know me? That's fine, go do that. Go lie alone in your room, crying, until morning. Go on. Have one of your meltdowns. See how far that gets you." Andy gets of bed with the tray, putting it back where it was. "But if you loved me, you'd stay."

"I told you. I don't care anymore."

"Oh, I heard. But you wanna know something?" He approaches Remington, who's stood by the door. "Love is only worth speaking of it it's love beyond lust. And this is not. You love the way I look. You love the way I make you feel when I touch you. You love the idea of me. But do you stay with me when I snap like this? Do you stay with me when I don't agree with everything you say? Do you stay with the parts of me that hate myself? No. You don't. Because you can't handle those parts, and if you loved me, you could."

Remington stares at him. There are tears on his face. He has no words to content with what the man is saying.

"Now ask me the same questions and see what answers you get," Andy continues. "Do I walk away when you snap at me? Do I walk away when you don't agree with everything you say? Do I ignore the parts of you that hate yourself" He puts his hand on the door handle. "No, Remington. No. I don't. So go. Lie on your bed alone and work that one out for yourself. Go on. Walk away. I'll see you at breakfast."