Save me. (Remington Leith X Andy Biersack)

Chapter 50

Emerson and Remington spend a day together, just talking and wondering around town. It's good for Remington to get out of the house for a few hours. He's been so cooped up the past few months.

The older tells his best friend that he doesn't understand why he broke down. Maybe Emerson can help him come to terms with it.

"You weren't having a good couple of days," Emerson says, "it's not a surprise."

Remington stops walking. "What do you mean, it's not a fucking surprise? You expected it to happen?" He feels betrayed. Does Emerson think he's going crazy? Is he going crazy?

"No, Rem, I just mean that I can see why it happened. It's clear that you were struggling." The drummer is trying desperately not to upset the boy. It seems he gets upset easily now. Is that a side affect of the pills?

With a sigh, Remington shoves his hands into his pockets. "Well yeah, I was struggling, but I was in control," he protests, "I was handling it." The amount of times he's said that to himself is uncountable. If he says it enough maybe it'll become a reality.

Emerson shakes his head. "No you weren't." He can see the hurt in his brother's face, but Remington needs to hear this. He can't live in denial like this anymore. It's not safe. "Look, I get that it's hard to accept, but obviously you weren't in control, and the fact that you still believe you were just proves my point."

"Well fuck you too!" Remington shouts, and turns and walks briskly away. He can't believe Emerson would talk to him like that.

He was in control.

He is in control.

He'll always be in control.

Right?

The boy practically kicks open the front door and barges past Sebastian, who is hanging up his coat. "Wha-Remington?" He says, shocked, and chases after the singer.

Remington runs up the stairs loudly. "Fuck off!" His voice is harsh, hurt. He believes his brothers are against him, that they're out to get him.

Sebastian sighs as the boy slams the bedroom door and decides to give him some time. He'll calm down. Hopefully.

In the bedroom, Remington lies face down on the bed and screams into the pillow. He doesn't understand why Emerson said that to him, that he wasn't in control. He was in control and he still is in control.

Right?

He knows he shouldn't have shouted or stormed off and Sebastian definitely deserves an explanation for being shoved into the coat rack so rudely. It's just confusing to him; the whole breakdown thing. Why did it happen? He needs to know why it happened, why he couldn't stop it from happening.

Remington lies on the bed for a while until there is a quiet knock on his door. He stays quiet and hears as the door opens. "What's going on, Remington, why'd you shout at me like that?" The man leans against the doorframe.

With a long sigh, Remington rolls onto his back. "Got angry," he says flatly, looking up at the ceiling. He isn't in the mood for talking. He isn't in the mood for anything.

"Angry at what?"

The boy huffs, wanting Sebastian to know how annoyed he is. He isn't in the fucking mood. "Fuck off," he mumbles, throwing a pillow at the older man.

Sebastian frowns, picking up the pillow and putting it back on the bed. "You've got to talk about it, Remington, that's what Dr Beckley said. Don't keep things inside." The man doesn't want to sound like he's telling his brother what to do, but he knows it's important for Remington to talk about things that are upsetting him. It isn't healthy to hide everything inside.

"I will," he snaps, "when I want to. Just fuck off, for the love of God!" He lies on his front again and sticks his middle finger up.

The guitarist sighs. "Alright, I'm going," he gives in, "just please don't keep it all inside, you know that ends badly." He closes the door on his way out.

Today Emerson told me that I wasn't in control. He said that is why I broke down the other day. But I am in control. Just because I breakdown doesn't mean I'm not in control. I shouted at him and Sebastian and they probably hate me now. I do. But doesn't everyone? I can't sleep. It's gone past midnight. Everything is confusing. I heard Sebastian on the phone to Emerson. He said he was worried about me, that he isn't sure he can look after me. I DON'T NEED TO BE LOOKED AFTER! I'm a grown fucking man and I can take care of myself.

They think it is their duty to look after me, like I'm not capable. I am. I wish they'd let me do what I want. I wish I didn't have to live with Sebastian anymore. But him and Emerson won't let me go back to my house. Say it'll bring back too many memories. How do they know? They're not me. Just because it would effect them doesn't mean it will effect me.

I feel bad though, for treating them like shit. I shouldn't shout at either of them. They are just trying to help. And I should be grateful. I am grateful, I swear I am! It's just that I feel so useless when I am being looked after, like I'm not able to do things for myself. It's just confusing. I know I need them. I couldn't fucking live without them, but I hate how helpless I feel all the damn time! Why can't I be fucking normal!?!?