Help Me (sequel to Save Me)

Chapter 121

Trigger warning?

"Sweetheart, Sebastian's here," Andy informs his husband, kissing the top of this head.

Remington whines. "Am I meant to talk to him?"

The man hums. "Ideally, yes."

"Fine," Remington mumbles, "in a minute, though. Hug please."

Andy chuckles, but does as Remington wants, and wraps him in his arms. "You okay, petal?"

The boy hums, cheek pressed against Andy's chest. "Just needed a hug is all," he says quietly, "Sebby's here now?"

"He's in the living room."

Remington exhales and, after another minute in Andy's arms, goes to see his brother. "Hi," he greets, sitting beside the guitarist.

"Hey bub," Sebastian says with a gentle smile, "I talked to Emerson."

"And?"

"I told him to stay away from you for a bit, okay?"

The boy smiles. "Thank you." He yawns. "You're such a good brother, Sebby."

Sebastian ruffles Remington's hair, and the younger pushes his hand away. "So, I trust you and Andy are still doing well?"

"The best," Remington replies, "I don't get why Emerson was so mean about him."

"I know, bub. He didn't mean it."

"What if he did?" The singer turns his head when there's a noise by the door, smiling at the cat chasing a toy around.

Sebastian shakes his head. "He didn't, I promise."

Remington looks down at his lap. "I just-why would he say that? I love Andy so much and he makes me feel so safe, and when Emerson said it, I just-it made me feel so sad."

"I know, bub, and you don't even know how happy it makes me to see you so in love. Emerson will come around. He's had a shock with this whole cancer thing and keeping him away from you for a bit is a good thing for you both." He gives the younger a reassuring smile.

The boy doesn't look up as he talks. "It's like he doesn't want me to be happy, Sebby, that's what it feels like." His fingers mess with the rings to try and stop himself crying.

Sebastian can't bear to see his brother so down like this. "I promise you he loves you, and he wants you to be happy. We all want that."

"Then why was he so rude about Andy? He makes me happy."

"I don't know," Sebastian says, shaking his head, "I don't know, but I know that he didn't mean it, okay, I promise." He frowns. "Are you okay, buttercup?"

Remington shakes his head and whispers, "no." He rubs his eyes. "I can't stop thinking about everything Emerson said and I hate it." Despite his best efforts, Remington can't stop the tears, and covers his face with his hands. "It's not fair. He uses cancer as an excuse for shouting at me and then gets mad at me for-for apparently using my disorders as excuses when I don't." His words are broken by soft sobs, and he stands up. "Sorry, I... Andy," he mumbles, and wipes his eyes as he leaves the room.

The boy ascends the stairs, and finds Andy folding up clean washing in the bedroom. When Andy sees him, the man puts down the shirt he was folding, and opens his arms. "Are you having a bad day, princess?"

Remington nods and sniffles.

"That's okay. I'll take care of you. Is Sebastian still here?" He strokes Remington's hair like he always does when they hug, and sways gently.

"Think so."

Andy hums. "He didn't make you cry, did he?"

"No. I did that all by myself." He tries to cheer himself up with the comment, but it only makes him more sad.

"I hope you know how wonderful you are."

Remington smiles through the tears. "Shh, 'm listening to your heart. Makes me calm."

When the two go down into the living room, Sebastian is sitting on the couch on his phone, and looks up when the lovers join him. "I have some not so good news," he says, somewhat awkwardly.

"I don't think I want to know what it is," Remington responds, situated in Andy's lap.

"Whether you want to or not, it affects you, so you need to know." He sighs. "We've been told that if we don't tour soon, the label is gonna drop us"

Remington stiffens. "How soon?"

The guitarist winces. "Three months."

"Wait, you mean that in three months, we need to be, on tour?"

Sebastian nods.

"I can't, Sebastian, I'm not ready. You know I can't. It'd end up just like last time."

"I know."

"I can come this time," Andy chimes in, "if that makes it any better."

The singer nods. "It does make it a bit better. But still, I'm not ready. Abigail said I need to take it easy and to work on my eating disorder. I'm pretty sure touring isn't 'taking it easy'."

"I know it's not ideal, but we can't risk getting dropped by the label. We worked our asses off for that deal."

"So the band is more important than me?" Remington asks, offended.

Sebastian shakes his head. "No, of course not. But don't you feel the same?"

The boy shrugs. "I've spent so long putting the band before myself, Sebby. I've destroyed my mental health for the band. For once, can't I put myself first? That's what you said in hospital after I collapsed outside the venue. You told me to put myself first."

"Look, I don't think it's a good idea either, but I also don't want to lose the deal."

Remington frowns. "Why does no one care about me?" He asks, more to himself that to anyone else. "Do you know how much it hurts when your own brother tries to drown you? It hurts so much, Sebastian! It's all I can fucking think about. And now you're saying you'd hapilly let me hit rock bottom just to keep a stupid fucking record deal! Well guess what? I fucking quit! I fucking quit the fucking band! Find a new fucking singer, one who can actually go on tour, because clearly that's all you care about."