Make Me (Remdy)

We All Have Coping Mechanisms

Just for the record I actually love Juliet/Lilith, her character in this is purely for the story :) 

Trigger warnings: Depression, mention of alcohol, death

It's dark out, and cold. Cold enough that Andy is wearing a hoodie, a jacket, and a coat as he wonders the graveyard aimlessly. He stops to read the engravings on the headstones every so often, lit up by lamps that line the paths. His hands are in his pockets, his hood up, and he sighs, watches his breath float away in a cloud of white before him. 

"Well, this is awkward," someone, a woman, says from behind him. 

Andy turns around, sighs again. "Juliet," he says. An acknowledgement more than a greeting. "What're you doing? You don't live round here anymore." 

"Am I not allowed to be here?" 

"You know what this place is to me, why must you infiltrate it like you infiltrated everything else in my life?" 

"It's a public place, Andy, don't be a dick." 

"The word's cunt," Andy mumbles, then louder, "It's great so see you blah blah, now turn around and keep walking, I've got things to do that don't involved my cheating, lying wife." 

"Why so cold all the time?" 

"Why so cold? Maybe because we were married for years and I find out it was only because you liked how I look. Just go, please. I'm not in the mood for this tonight." 

"You're never in the mood, Andy, that's your problem." 

"My problem? And what about your problems? Care to enlighten me on what those may be? Then again, I was hoping to be back for bed before morning, so let's not get into it." 

She scoffs. "I'm trying to be nice." 

"No you're not. You're trying to get under my skin again because you love knowing you're the reason for what happened." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"You know what I'm talking about." 

"I'm not the reason for the divorce, Andy, that was both of us." 

"I don't mean the divorce, Juliet." 

"Then what do you mean?" 

"You know damn well what I mean." She looks at him blankly, waits for him to tell her, so he sighs again and says forcefully, "The fucking alcohol, woman! You know you're the reason I nearly fucking killed myself by drinking too much!" 

"That was not my fault, Andy, are you serious? How as I supposed to know you'd turn into a huge alcoholic after he died? That was all you! I'm not responsible for you being an idiot and how the hell was I supposed to know you were drinking that much, anyway? I'm not a psychic!" 

"Oh, the daytime drinking and slurred speech wasn't enough for you?" He laughs dryly, shakes his head. "Now please just go before I tear out one of the headstones and whack you so hard with it that it breaks. Fuck off." 

"Maybe if you stopped being such a whiny baby about everything, you'd have found someone else by now." 

Andy laughs again. "Oh, I have, thank you very much. And he's so much fucking better than you, I can't believe I ever let you touch my cock." 

"He? So what, you have one bad experience with a woman and now you're gay?"

"No, for Christ's sake, I'm not gay. I'm fucking bisexual, and I like cock, and I also happen to like someone attached to said cock, alright? Is that okay for you or would you like to watch next time we fuck just to make sure I'm not lying?" 

Juliet shakes her head and begins walking away. 

Andy shouts after her, "You should meet him, he'd appreciate having something to laugh at!" 

She sticks her finger up and continues walking.

Once she's gone, Andy sits on a nearby bench and closes his eyes. He hates how she always brings out the rudest parts of him, that he isn't able to have a civilized conversation with her because it always escalates, no matter what they're talking about. 

At the sound of footsteps, he opens his eyes. Remington is approaching. "You're out late," the younger says, joining him on the bench and pressing his side to Andy's to keep warm. 

Without speaking, Andy gives him a quick smile, leans his head against Remington's. He sighs heavily. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Would you believe me if I said nothing?" 

"Absolutely not, no." 

"Juliet was here." 

"Oh. Now?" 

"Just before. We had a fight, as always, she blamed for everything, as always, wouldn't take any responsibility for something that happened after our son died." 

Remington puts his hand over Andy's in his pocket. "I thought she moved away," he recalls.

"No, she did. I don't know why she was back." 

"What happened after your son died?" 

"It doesn't matter." 

"It clearly does." 

Andy sighs again. "I had a, uh, a problem with drinking." 

"As in-" 

"As in I was a massive fucking alcoholic, yes." 

"Oh." 

"Not anymore. Not since I got alcohol poisoning and nearly died." 

"You never told me." 

"It didn't seem worth sharing, to be honest with you. It's in the past, I haven't had issues with it since. I went to rehab and everything, you know, to sort myself out. I was sober for a while. Not anymore, but I can handle it now. Knowing when I've had enough, I mean. It was just a bad reaction to everything that was going on. My wife starting to hate me and our son dying, it made me a little...depressed, I guess. Well, more than a little. Alcohol just...it made things blurry, took away what I couldn't deal with. It felt good. Until it didn't. Until I was drinking so much that I would black out, and then I would drink all day so avoid the hangover. I was basically always drinking. It wasn't my finest moment." He turns to look at Remington. "She just brings out everything in me that I hate. Anger and bitterness and everything." 

"I'm sorry." 

"It's okay, it's not your fault. You don't need to apologise. I'm grateful to have you after the shit I've put you through. We should, I'm freezing half to death here." 

Remington nods, gets up, pulls Andy with him. 

"I'm pretty sure I just came out to her." 

"Of course you did. Your friends still don't know, but at least your ex-wife is aware you're fucking a man." 

Andy shoves him playfully, then takes his hand and begins walking.