Stranger Danger

10

Trigger Warning: Mentions of self-harm, suicide 

Stepping over the door that had come of its hinges and was lying haphazardly on the filthy ground, Andy approached the bed, tried not to show disgust at the state of the place.

Remington had his eyes open and he watched the man, though didn't speak or move. 

Andy crouched beside the bed. He had an urge to take Remington's hand, but he resisted. "I know it's really hard to go through change, I get it," he said in a soft voice. "This is the only home you know, I can't begin to imagine how troubling it must be to leave it for somewhere you've never been before. But you can't stay here. Other than it being insanely unsafe, there are people who are gonna come and knock it all down." 

Blinking, Remington stayed quiet. 

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to be here, and I don't blame you at all, but I want you to be safe, and here, you're not. All the cuts we just made better are going to hurt again from all the dirt everywhere." 

Remington looked at his arm. 

"I'm sorry for everything that's happened and I wish you could have had a proper home from the start, but I can't change the past. What I can do is promise you that you don't need to live this way anymore. I know you think it's the only way and that the real world is evil and scary, and you know what, maybe it is, but no one should be alone the way you've been, and no one should spend twenty-odd years trying to survive in a falling down cottage that doesn't even have running water. You don't need to live like this anymore. You can have a new life." 

"My whole life, I be here." 

"I know. And I get it, I do. Change is scary and the world is scary and people are scary, but you know what's scarier? Dying alone of an infection or lung disease from breathing in so much dust for so long. You deserve a proper home and to live without constant pain. You do." 

"I stay here." 

"What are you going to do when they come to knock it down?" 

Remington blinked at him. "When my house is gone, I go, too." He rubbed his eyes and Andy noticed a bundle of fresh cuts on his wrist. "I not stay without my house." 

"I understand how much you love your house, and that's okay, but sometimes, we have to let things we love go so that we can be happy. Wouldn't you like to be happy?" 

"I not stay without my house," Remington repeated. "I go." 

Andy felt he could cry, despite barely knowing the boy more than a week. He dug his fingers into his pocket and took out the ring and belt chain. 

When Remington saw them, he reached his hand out, and Andy pulled them away. His eyes widened. They were wet. 

"You've already found things that comfort you in the real world, see? How would you feel if I never let you have these again?" 

"I hold," Remington said weakly, sitting up and trying again to take the jewellery. Andy took a step back so he couldn't reach, and this time, when he blinked, tears leaked free. "I hold." 

"How will you have all the things that make you feel safe in my house if you stay here? What about the blanket?" 

Getting on his knees, Remington tried to reach the items. "I hold." 

"The world is scary and I'm sorry that you've been brought into it in such a cruel way, but that doesn't mean you have to spend your life hiding from it. There are so many people and places and things that you deserve to see." 

Remington grabbed helplessly at his closed fist, unable to pull his fingers apart and retrieve the treasure inside. 

"All of the loneliness and pain and fear will go away, I promise. But not if you hide yourself away in here. I can help you, but you have to let me." 

"I not need help. I stay." 

Andy sighed. "Okay. I wish you the best, I really do. You know where I am if you change your mind." Opening his hand, Andy placed the chain and ring into Remington's palm, closed the younger's fingers around them, then let go and turned to leave. 

Alone in the room, Remington looked at the metal in his hand, cold against his skin. The wounds on his wrist were stinging and he remembered what it was like to have Andy clean the last ones. He blinked and more tears fell. 

Andy's footsteps were growing faint as the man reached the bottom of the stairs, and when he could no longer hear them, Remington started to sob. He wanted Andy to help him, of course he did. But the prospect of living somewhere else, of being among other people every day, made his heart race. 

He slid the ring onto his finger and wrapped the chain around his wrist tightly enough that his hand started turning a purple-blue colour. Then he unravelled it, looked at the metal glimmering between his fingers, and heard the faint slam of a car door.