Fix Me (Alternative ending)

Chapter 16

Trigger warning - mentions of eating disorders, panic attacks

The plate is put down in front of him and Remington glares at it, unhappy with what he has to do today. Cheese.

Andy sits beside him. "I'll do it with you," he encourages, slicing the cheese sandwich in half and picking up the larger piece.

Remington pokes the bread with his finger. "I don't wanna," he whines.

"I know, kitten. You got this!"

"Wait, can we film it? I wanna share this moment."

The man smiles. "Of course we can. I'll just prop my phone up on that mug, okay?"

Remington nods. He watches Andy, trying to stall what he has to do. "It's gonna make me sick," he insists, "I need the loo."

Andy shakes his head, gently pushes Remington back down when the boy stands up. "You got this," he repeats, "just one bite. You can do it."

The boy looks at the phone and sighs. "What sort of cheese is it?"

"Just mild cheddar, sweetheart. I didn't put much in. It's mostly bread."

Remington pokes at it again, not exactly very keen on it.

"I'm gonna count from three, okay? I'll do it with you. All you gotta do is take on little bite and swallow it. You can do that."

"I can't," Remington complains, putting his head on the table. "Can't I just pretend I did it?"

"Nope. Ready?"

"No."

"Come on, kitty, head up. It'll be over the sooner you do it."

Remington looks at Andy with an unhappy face.

The man ruffles his hair. "Pick it up, angel," he says, encouragingly so. "There we go, you got this. Ready?"

The younger shakes his head, glaring at the sandwich in his hand. "Kill me now," he mumbles dryly.

"Okay. Three, two, one," Andy counts, smiling when Remington bites into it, doing the same so the singer isn't facing it alone.

Remington covers his mouth with his hand and drops the sandwich onto the plate, swallowing the mouthful and wiping his eyes.

"You did it!" Andy congratulates, welcoming his husband into a hug. "I'm proud of you."

"I did it," Remington mumbles, sniffling. He lifts his head to look at Andy's proud face. "It tastes quite nice."

Smiling, Andy wipes under the younger's eyes with his fingers. "Never thought I'd hear you say that about cheese. How'd you feel?"

"Like I could finish that," he says, pointing to the rest of his sandwich.

"That's fantastic!"

After the morning's ordeal, Remington does the not-so fun task of calling his little brother to explain that he's the reason why Lucy and David are on the run from the police. "Your friends are crap," he says, looking at Andy, who laughs at the choice of words.

"Sorry?" Emerson asks.

"I'm guessing they didn't tell you, huh?"

"Tell me what?"

"So you know how I'm gay?"

"Yeah?"

Remington laughs because this is so stupid. "Yeah, well so do they, and lemme tell you, they do not like it. Gave me two bruised ribs, a black eye, and hallucinations for a whole night. You might wanna rethink who you be-friend, matey."

"They what?"

"They found me when I was walking home and beat me up, Emerson. Lucy kissed me to show me what real men do. Ditch them, will you? They're currently running from the police, so..."

"Oh."

Remington rolls his eyes. "Yeah, oh."

"I'm sorry, Remington. I really didn't know."

The boy stands up. "Well now you do, so do something about it. Bye-bye now." He hangs up and Andy looks at him with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Bye-bye now," Andy mocks in a high pitched voice, laughing when Remington throws a cushion at him.

"Piss off."

"Okay, bye-bye now," the man teases, turning away, stumbling and steadying himself when Remington jumps on his back. "Jesus, chill."

"I am Jesus. Can I ask you a very annoying question that you might hate me for?"

"Oh no."

"Did you have a panic attack last night?"

Andy sighs. That's not something he wants to discuss.

Remington, arms around Andy's neck, chin on the top of his head, strokes the scar along the man's throat. "It's just that you've been really tired lately. You're not normally this tired. Is it 'cause you're waking up with panic attacks?"

It makes Andy want to hide away forever in a locked room with no windows. He hates this; talking about his own problems, admitting that he has his own problems. "I've just been stressed," he half-lies, lowering Remington onto the couch.

"Why aren't you telling me the truth?" Remington asks, upset by his lover's sudden need for secrecy.

"I am telling you the truth."

"You're not," Remington insists. He gets no response other than a sigh and a shake of the head. "Andy, why won't you talk to me?"

He sounds genuinely worried and it only makes Andy feel like more of a burden. Why should he dump his problems onto Remington when the young man already has his own shit to deal with? "Just drop it, okay?" He practically begs.

Remington sighs. "Okay," he gives in, because he'd rather this than an argument. "Sorry."

Remington Leith: As you might know (or might not) I'm currently trying to recover from Anorexia. Today I conquered a big fear food for me: cheese. It was a struggle and I thought I wasn't gonna be able to do it, but I did! Here's a video of me crying over a cheese sandwich and then admitting that it tastes quite nice. Ft @andyblack and his fantastic hugs. I hope you're all having a wonderful day.