Fix Me (Alternative ending)

Chapter 7

Trigger warning. Eating disorder stuff.

The house is quiet. The curtains are drawn, sun setting in pinks outside, and the men are lying on the couch playing with one another's fingers. Today wasn't a very good day for either of them. In the morning, Remington had woken in a foul mood for no particular reason, refusing breakfast by pushing the bowl away multiple times, until Andy gave up and put it in the fridge, hoping he'd eat it later.

Just after midday, Andy got a call from his tour manager explaining that nearly half the tour dates on their tour that starts in seven months have been cancelled indefinitely after various issues with communication between the venues and the band. He had to explain to all their fans that it was happening and that wasn't exactly enjoyable. Andy hates letting down fans, and he was really looking forward to the tour.

Remington's mood only got worse and he consequently refused lunch, too, and sat with his head on the table complaining about how awful eating is. Andy was worried and stressed and not wanting his husband to slip back into not eating enough again, and wasn't sure how to persuade the boy to eat it without upsetting him.

Now, it's just gone eight pm, and Remington is lying between Andy's legs, telling the man about the book he's been reading. Andy listens as he runs his fingers over the younger's knuckles and only speaks up when Remington has finished with what he was saying.

"Sounds like a good book," he says softly.

Remington hums.

"Now...I'm gonna go out on a limb here," Andy begins, pausing before adding on, "I really suggest you have something to eat before bed."

The boy whines loudly. "Why?" He asks, drawing the word out.

"Because food is your friend, sweetheart. And we don't want you collapsing, do we?"

"Food is not my friend. I hate food. It's my enemy."

"If I make you some salmon, will you try your best to have some for me?" His tone is gentle, soothing.

The singer rubs his eyes. "For you?"

"Yeah, for me."

"If it's for you, then fine, I'll try."

"Good boy. You stay here." Andy ruffles his hair and kisses his forehead.

Remington sits on the couch once Andy has gone and reaches for the television remote as he shouts, "Can you make me tea?"

"Sure," Andy calls back, wrapping a salmon fillet in foil and putting it in the oven. He returns into the living room a few minutes later with two mugs of hot tea, settling beside the younger and stealing the remote from his hand.

"Hey," Remington whines, "I was choosing something."

Andy prods his shoulder. "You never choose good shows, though," he teases, "so you wanna tell me why you've been in such a bad mood all day?"

There is a show on about zoo animals which Remington persuades Andy to choose before daring to answer the question. "I haven't been in a bad mood," he says, "I've been very cheery."

Andy laughs.

"I just didn't wanna wake up this morning and when I did it made me angry."

The man nods and hums. "I see," he purrs, "it's one of those days, huh?"

Remington yawns. "Yep. One of those days."

"Well," Andy begins, "I, for one, am very glad you woke up."

"I'm glad you're awake, too."

When the salmon is ready, Andy carefully lays it on a small plate with some salad leaves, picking up a fork and carrying it into the living room. He puts it on the table and Remington eyes it suspiciously, trying to add up the calories in his head. "Try one fork full for me, okay?" The man encourages, pulling the table towards them and holding the fork towards Remington, who takes it and touches the prongs with his fingers.

"This sucks," the singer complains, reluctantly poking at the salmon with the fork.

Andy rubs his arm. "I know, sweetie, I know. How about this. You try one forkful and I'll get you your onesie. Deal?"

"What about the other forkfuls, though? Aren't I supposed to eat all of it?"

"We'll deal with that as it comes. For now, one forkful."

Remington stabs into the salmon and breaks off a small piece of it. "Okay," he agrees, and eats the piece of fish.

Andy gets up. "There we go, I knew you could do it," he praises, falling back into the couch when Remington pulls him down, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Noth'n, just wanted to see if you'd pull away or not."

"Honey, why would I pull away?"

"Dunno. Paranoia on my part?"

"Lemme go get your onesie, kitten."

"You gotta wear one, too."

Andy smiles. "Sure thing. I'll be right back," he responds, standing up after kissing Remington's hand.

While he's upstairs, Remington stabs the fork back into the salmon and sighs. He spaces out for a few minutes, wondering wat it must feel like to just be able to enjoy food. He only realises he's zoned out when Andy pulls him back into reality by prodding his shoulder. "Oh, you look so adorable!"

Andy does a spin as though he's in a princess dress, throwing the onesie in his hand at Remington. "How're you feeling about another forkful?"

"It is nice," Remington says, standing up and pulling his clothes off. He steps into the onesie and zips it up. "Andy, what's it like to not worry about every single thing you eat?"

"I don't really know how to answer that, sweetheart. It's not something I think about, to be honest. But you need to understand that just because others don't struggle the same way you do, that doesn't mean your struggles aren't valid and important. I won't ever know how food makes you feel. Only you know that. But I do know that comparing yourself to someone who doesn't have an eating disorder is not gonna make you feel any better. I'm thankful that I don't struggle with food, and I'm thankful that you're so willing to work through your struggles and to try and recover. You don't need to look at every person who doesn't have anorexia and wonder what it's like because you will beat it and you will know, for yourself, what it's like, okay? I promise. For now, you just try and have another forkful of that salmon for me."

"I just-I don't wanna be like this forever. I don't like it." Remington sits back down and picks up the plate.

"I know. And you don't deserve it at all. But you need to just push through it. The good days, the bad days, even the days where you can't bear to open your eyes and see the world. Every day. Because that's the only way it will get better, and you deserve to feel good about yourself, and to be happy."

"I don't even know what it feels like to feel good about myself."

"And you will know that feeling, I know you will. If you keep fighting it, you will get to experience that feeling, and you will have earned it more than anyone else, okay?"

"Okay." He looks at the salmon on his fork, leaning into Andy's side. "I'm gonna eat it all," he decides.

The older smiles at the news. "Attaboy," he praises, and then, "look, cute baby tigers."

Remington looks up at the television with an aww, eating the salmon that's on the fork and stabbing some more.