Fix Me (Alternative ending)

Chapter 27

Trigger warning - talk of eating disorders, suicide, self harm, depression

It's early evening, just gone seven, and Andy carries Remington up to bed, tucking him in and carefully putting Harley in his hands, held against his chest. The man turns off the light, leaves the door half-open, and goes down to the kitchen to call Abigail.

"Hi Andy," the woman greets, "everything okay?"

Andy sits in a chair and puts his elbows on the table. "No, not at all. Remington's really not managing with recovery. I found diet pills again and he started screaming at me that he can't do it anymore and begging me to kill him. I really don't know how to help him."

"Oh God, that's not good. How's he doing now?"

"He's asleep."

"Okay. I can give you some options but I'll have to talk to him before we decide anyhting."

"That's fine. Recovery is just not working at the moment and I can't watch him slowly kill himself."

"Come in with him tomorrow, okay? We'll have a talk and make sure he's getting help. I can't do anything until I've spoken to Remington, though."

"Okay, thank you," Andy says, "see you tomorrow."

Remington stays asleep until past one am, when he wakes with a headache, groaning and rubbing his eyes.

Andy is still awake beside him. He couldn't sleep knowing his husband is in such a bad state. "Come snuggle," he whispers, and the boy tiredly shuffles until he's lying, face down with his head pushed into Andy's shoulder, on top of his lover.

"Sorry," he mumbles, because he's sure he's ruined everything.

"No, kitty, none of that. Try and go back to sleep, okay?"

Remington can still feel his screams in his throat. I can't do it! It's too much! He didn't think he'd ever mean those words so much, not like he does now. It is too much. All of it. The anger of knowing it's his own fault that it got this bad. The sadness because he's losing valuable years of his life to some fucked up, merciless disorder. The lonliness because no matter how much Andy does, how understanidng he is, he doesn't truly get it. Doesn't properly know what it is to have the brain Remington has. "Sing it again?" He asks softly, and Andy does. He sings Carolyn, and after, Saviour, until Remington is sent to sleep again.

In the morning, Andy gently wakes the boy because they've got to be at Abigail's in an hour, makes him a small bowl of porridge and sliced banana and encourages him the whole time he's eating, washing the bowl and spoon after and giving Remington the fluffy blanket to bring with him. He knows the boy likes to hide behind it when he's feeling helpless like this.

Abigail welcomes them in, sending Andy a smile and letting them get settled on the couch before talking. "I heard you're having a tough time," she says, looking at Remington, who just nods, blanket in his hands. "D'you think you can tell me how you're feeling?"

The boy lifts his legs over Andy's lap. "It's all too much 'nd I can't take it."

"What's the worst thing in your head right now? What're you struggling with the most?"

"Eating. And I need'a cut myself so bad."

"You feel like that will help you?"

Remington nods.

"Okay. Tell me about your eating recently."

Sideways across the couch, Andy's arm supporting his back, he sighs. "Don't wanna talk 'bout it," he mumbles, "'s hurting too much."