Help Me (sequel to Save Me)

Chapter 161

Trigger warning

In the dark, Remington navigates his way from the bed to the door of the room, going to fill his glass with water. His ribs hurt. No, it's not his ribs, it's his stomach. A familiar pain. Sharp. Grating. Like there's something twisting inside him, wripping his delicate skin, wrapping him in paralysing fear.

He holds a hand over the pain and opens the door. He realises he's either hallucinating or in the midst of another nightmare.

She smiles at him coldly. "You're bleeding," she says, pointing to his stomach. "I made you bleed."

Remington tells himself it's not real. "Andy!" He shouts, stepping back from the door.

"I bet it hurts," Holly goes on, "I bet it feels like you're gonna die."

It does.

The boy takes another step back. "You're not real," he says. "Andy!"

"You're not real. He can't hear you because you don't exist anymore."

"Yes I do!" Remington insists, "this is just my brain fucking with me."

Holly laughs, like what he just said is somehow funny. "You're dead. You've been dead for years. I killed you. Remember?"

Warm liquid trickles down his side. "No, I survived."

"You're dead."

He tears up. "I'm not dead. I don't wanna be dead." When he looks at his hand, it's shiny with blood. "ANDY!"

The woman shakes her head. "It's no use. No one can hear you. You're all alone."

When he breathes, it's like there are pins in his lungs. "No I'm not," he denies, voice shaking.

"No one loves you."

"That's not true."

She laughs again, loud this time. It makes Remington flinch. "Why would anyone love you?"

Remington doesn't know if he's shaking because he's scared or because he's sure he's bleeding to death. "Andy loves me," he insists, "ANDY!" He presses his hand against his bloody stomach. "You're in my head."

"There's nothing in your head because you're not real."

When the boy wipes his eyes, it's blood he sees on his hand. "Go away. Go away."

"You're dead."

It's like his throat is clogged up. "I'm not," he argues, "it's a nightmare. It's just a nightmare."

Holly seems to suddenly have a kinfe. "You're dead," she repeats, "I killed you. Don't you remember? I stabbed you in a bath tub and you screamed and no one heard you because you're alone and you bled out alone in a random hotel. No one went to your funeral and you were buried without a gravestone. No one cared that you died."

"Shut up! Shut up! I'm not dead. I'm not dead!" His ribs hurt now, too. Badly. Like they're cracked. Like the bone has punctured his skin. God, it's painful. Agony. "Andy! ANDY!"

"He can't hear you! No one can hear you! You're dead!" Her voice is piercing in his head, like she's scraping at his skull with those acrylic nails. "You died alone."

He can't breathe.

"You've always been alone."

"No..."

The knife is raised above her head. "You're alone."

Remington stumbles back. "Go away! Go away! Go away! GO AWAY!"

"You're alone." She steps towards him. "Remington, you're alone."

"NO! Please! Leave me alone! Holly, please! Please! PLEASE! Holly, oh my God, leave me alone! PLEASE! Please..."

And then the knife is in his throat, dragged swiftly across. Remington screams, hands flying up and covering the deep cut. She's gone now. He really is alone. He can't stop screaming.

Waking up is a shock. He gasps and gulps in air, as though for the whole nightmare, he wasn't breathing at all. Remington touches his throat and his stomach. There's nothing there. He looks beside him but the bed is empty.

He really is alone.

Andy isn't there.

The boy rubs his eyes and checks for Andy again, hoping his eyes were just lying to him. They weren't. He sobs before he can stop himself, Holly's words running around in his head and making him dizzy.

"Remington? Remington, sweetie, can you look at me?"

He snaps his head up at the familiar voice, scrambling to get to Andy.

The man sits on the bed and brings Remington into his lap. "Honey, what's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"

Remington nods against Andy. "Where-where'd you go?" He stutters, curling into his husband and trying to calm down.

"Just to the bathroom. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. Number?'

It feels easier to breathe now Andy is here. "Twenty nine," he answers in an almost-whisper, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Can't sleep now."

Andy strokes his hair. "Do you want to tell me about the nightmare?"

Remington shakes his head.

"How about I make you some hot chocolate and we can put on a movie?" He wipes tears from under the boy's eyes and kisses his head.

"But it's-like-midnight," Remington mumbles.

The older hums. "It's half two, but that doesn't matter. You're feeling fragile and you need looking after."

"'kay. Hot chocolate."

Andy smiles sympathetically.

The two go into the kitchen, Remington sitting on the counter with a blanket as Andy makes the drink. "Sometimes she's in my head and all I can think about is... It's scary."

"You do very well dealing with it, you know?"

"It just - it gets too much sometimes." He yawns and pulls the blanket over his shoulders.

Andy pours milk into a pan before turning to look at the boy. "I know, princess. It's okay."

What Remington doesn't tell Andy is what he's gonna do in two days. He hasn't told anyone. Not even Abigail. He needs to do it. He can't sit back and watch events unravel and not do something.

But God is it a bad idea.