Fix Me (Alternative ending)

Chapter 4

Trigger warning  also a lil bit of sex talk but not a lot

"We've got a name," an officer at the police station says, looking across a desk at Remington and Andy. They were called in this afternoon.

Remington looks from the officer to Andy nervously, scared of what he's about to hear. "Okay," he says, sounding calm even though he isn't.

"The profile matching your stalker is a twenty nine year old man called Liam Jacobs."

Remington feels his heart shrivel and his blood thicken until can't breathe. He was wrong. Everyone told him he was and he didn't believe them and they were right. They're always right. He's always wrong.

Andy knows what he's thinking. He takes the boy's hand but Remingotn pulls away. He feels like the biggest loser in the world. He was wrong.

"Jacobs has relations to someone called Alex Richards who claims to know you."

Remington nods. He knows who she means.

"Acording to Jacobs, Alex payed him a very large amount of money to go after you." 

Remington feels sick. He can't talk.

"We're tracking down Alex Richards right now. He will be serving time as well as Jacobs."

"I need some air," Remington gets out, and stands up, dizzy. He doesn't wait for Andy before he turns and walks quickly out of the builing, sitting by the wall just outside and and making himself gulp in oxygen that suddenly tastes poisonous. It's like he can feel it brurning the inside of his throat as he swallows the air and it makes him teary. The sort of teary that happenes when he's sticking his fingers down his throat. A familiar feeling, but not a nice one. One of the worst ones, Remington thinks.

Andy comes through the doors and crouches beside Remington, taking his hands. "It's alright," he says softly, rubbing his fingers over the bony knuckles.

The boy shakes his head, watching Andy's hands. "You were right," he whispers, ashamed. "I shouted at you 'cause I was stupid 'nd you-I was wrong." He closes his eyes like he doesn't want to see the world. Like it's all too bright and too colourful and he prefers the darkness. "Andy, 's no-'s no point in me...'s no point anymore." His words are hopeless and Andy wonders if he's above a thirty now. It seems like it.

"There's nothing wrong with not being right sometimes, sweetheart. It's okay. I don't think you're any less of a person for shouting at me and I don't love you any less for how you sometimes get confused and overwhelmed."

"'s just...I just needed it-need it to be Holly's doing, 'cause I-if it's not her then it-then it means that someone else-someone else wants me to die, 'nd I-'nd why do people keep-why does everyone keep hurting me?" He pulls his hands from Andy and rubs his eyes. "You got hurt 'nd it's all my fault 'nd 'm sorry. 's always my fault." He's talking into his hands, aware that he sounds pathetic.

Andy pulls the fragile boy into his arms. "No, beautiful, that wasn't your fault at all. Don't blame yourself for any of that." When Remington shows no signs of getting himself off the floor, Andy picks him up, stabilising himself and making sure Remington is comfortable with where his hands are. "We need to sit you in a warm bath, I think."

Remington leans into his husband's safe hold, eyes closed, keeping his voice quiet when he responds. "Dunno what's wrong wi'me," he mumbles, "s jus'...'s too much."

"I need you to stand up for me, okay?"

The boy nods. He's carefully put on his feet and rubs his eyes again while Andy unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for him. "God, 'm being so pathetic," he says, sitting in the car.

"Shh, no you're not. You gotta stop being so mean to yourself, princess."

"Well everyone else is mean, so maybe' s jus' what I deserve."

Andy shakes his head. "Nonsense. You deserve all the love and no kind of hate ever, okay? That's just facts."

"Yeah, but you're just sayin' that."

"And I mean it just as much as when I mean the words 'I love you.'"

"Promise?"

Andy leans in and kisses his head. "I promise, sweetie." He pushes a hand into  his back pocket and pulls out a bracelet he got for Remington the other day. "Gimme your wrist, this'll look great on it."

Remington watches Andy connect the little metal clasp around his wrist. He likes how the metal feels against his skin. "You're the best."

"I know," Andy smiles, kisses the bracelet, and steps back to close the car door. He makes sure it doesn't slam before walking over to the other side and getting in.

The younger is looking at the little chain around his wrist, playing with it between his fingers.

"You're precious," Andy coos, starting the car. "How'd I get so lucky to have you, huh? The gods must've heard my prayers when I asked to see what perfection looked like."

Remington raises his eyebrows at Andy's pick up line. It does what Andy wanted and brings a smile to his lips. "Shut up, dick head."

"I'll give your dick head."

"You were literally telling me to stop with the dirty sex jokes last week! That's not fair!"

Andy grins.

"You ever just sit there staring at someone 'cause you love them so much?" After a moment, he then says, "' cause every night at 3 am I stare a photos of Gerard Way."

Andy bursts out laughing and Remington can't help but to join in. The man shakes his head as he turns onto the main road. "You and that man, I swear."

"Well," Remington begins, defending himself. "He's hot!"

"What if I find out you're secretly fucking him behind my back?"

"No, I mean he's hot, but like...you're oh my god fuck me until I don't know where I am and then spend a week playing with my hair."

Andy laughs again. "I see. And would you say we've done that?"

"Fucked until I don't know where I am? Man, I dunno. Maybe we should try some time."

"This just got really dirty."

"You started it."

"You escalates it."

Remington yawns. "You started it," he repeats, "you handsome dick head."