Help Me (sequel to Save Me)

Chapter 125

Trigger warning sorry :) also Satan_Incarnate_666 Ily <33

Once Andy is released from the hospital, Sebastian drives him home, dropping Remington off at Abigail's on the way. Andy invites him to stay for lunch since he's been helping out so much, so the two sit in the kitchen together.

"So you were attacked?" Sebastian asks, curious about the whole thing.

The man hums. "Yeah, out of nowhere."

Spooning pasta salad onto his plate, Sebastian is amazed at how calm Andy is about all of this. "Did you tell the police?"

"Yeah, they asked me about it in hospital. My cards have been deactivated and stuff, and they're searching for my car. It was really weird, you know? One minute I'm leaving the shop, the next I'm pinned against a wall and punched." He takes the bowl of pasta once Sebastian is done with it.

"Yeah, I bet."

"They were saying all this shit about Remington and I think I heard your name a few times, and then they were ranting about my band, and then your band, and then a whole load of crap about being gay and how I'm going to hell. I would have laughed if I wasn't being kicked in the stomach."

"Well I'm glad you're okay," Sebastian says sincerely, "I've never seen Remington love someone as much as he loves you. He trusts you with his whole heart." Andy smiles, and Sebastian goes on. "I've been meaning to say this for a while, but I wanna thank you. Like really thank you, for how well you take care of him. I know how he can get sometimes, if something's bothering him, and it's really beautiful how you always get through to him and calm him down in a way that me and Emerson can't always do. We're all so fucking grateful for everything you do for all of us. I really don't think Remington would be this far on in his recovery if it wasn't for you." He sees how Andy smiles, and it makes him smile.

Andy stands up and opens the cupboard for a glass. "I really appreciate that, man. Remington's a sweetheart." He offers the guitarist a glass of lemonade. "And thank you for welcoming me into your lives and trusting me after what Holly did." He fills two glasses with lemonade and sits back down.

"Honestly, I'm so glad we did, and it's nice for me to see him so safe with you."

After lunch, Sebastian goes to get Remington from therapy, since Andy's car has been stolen, and drops his brother off with a hug before going home. He says that if they need to travel anywhere, he'll lend them his car until they get one, which the lovers are extremely grateful for. Andy makes sure Remington has something to eat, knowing that if he doesn't get the boy something, he won't eat, and asks about therapy, as usual.

"It was good," Remington answers, splayed across the couch, looking up at Andy, who's watering the plants on the mantle piece. "We talked about when you didn't come home and I cut myself. She made me feel better about the whole thing. How was lunch with Sebby?"

Andy puts the glass he was using to water the plants down and lifts Remington's legs up, sitting down and smiling when the boy turns around so his head is in Andy's lap. "Really good. You've got a good big brother, you know that?"

"I know. He's the best. Did he get all soppy with you? He does that sometimes." He talks while looking up at Andy, and subconsciously moves his hands over his stomach, unhappy with how his hip bones don't jut out so sharply. He liked how they were so sharp, and now they're not.

Wary of the younger's actions, Andy watches his hands, and talks. "He got a bit soppy, yeah."

Remington hums quietly. He feels his ribs through the fabric of his shirt. "What did he say?" His fingers press hard at his ribs, finding comfort in the way the bones dip.

"Basically that I'm perfect," Andy jokes, "he said he's proud of you and he's glad you're in love after what Holly did."

The boy slides a hand under his shirt, gliding it over his torso, and breathes in. "I did something bad," he says unexpectedly.

Andy raises an eyebrow. "Okay? Do you maybe wanna explain what you mean?"

Remington smiles, weirdly. "Not really," he responds, shirt riding up past his hips, exposing his skin.

"What sort of bad is it?" Andy asks, not too sure if Remington is talking about something serious or not. All he gets is a shrug. "Alright. Tell me later."

"It's a bad sort of bad," Remington practically whispers, "like-I shouldn't be doing it but I am-sort of bad."

"Are you cheating on me?"

Remington snorts a laugh. "No. It's not that. I would never do that. I love you and I'm no cheater."

"Okay, so what is it?"

Remington shrugs.

"Okay, I guess we're playing a guessing game then." He watches Remington's hands, which are still moving over his ribs and his hips. "Is it to do with hurting yourself? Have you hurt yourself again? Because if it's that, you know you can tell me and I'll help."

"Not that."

The man sighs. "Is it dangerous for you?"

Remington shrugs even though he knows damn well that it is.

"Will it put you in hospital?"

Remington shrugs again.

Andy grabs his hands when he starts prodding rather harshly at his stomach, holding them so he can't give himself a bruise. "Does this 'bad thing' have to do with eating?" He gets no reply. "Okay, so it does. Have you been making yourself sick?"

"Dunno."

"You're not making this easy, sweetheart. This thing, have you been doing it for a while?"

Remington shrugs. "Not that long."

"Alright. I have two words, and you won't even have to answer because I'll be able to tell by your reaction." He kisses his husband's hand. "Diet pills?"