Fix Me (Alternative ending)

Chapter 30

trigger warning - talk of depression
I wrote like 2000 words for this chapter but it didn't save the whole thing so I'm publishing the first half now and will re-write the second half for tomorrow's chapter x

Remington Biersack: Anyone got any tips on how to escape hosiptal??? Srsly having a miserable time. Missing Andy immensely and it's only been three days since I last saw him. I hope you're all doing okay!!

User 1: When are u touring again???
User 2: @user1 read the room sweetie. He's in inpatient rn and will be for a few months.

"I'm fine," Remington says, when Sebastian asks how he is while he's visiting.

The older shakes his head, looks around the room. "You don't need to pretend."

"Fine. I feel like I'm completely on my own and no one unserstands how I'm feeling so there's no point even saying anything anymore."

"You're not alone."

Remington smiles sarcastically. "I told Andy I could manage without him so he could go to America and it's been three days and I'm losing it. I can't even hug, him, Sebastian!"

"Why did you tell him to go?"

The boy looks down at Harley. "I don't know," he mumbles, "thought it was the right thing to do."

"If it makes you feel like this then it's not the right thing, bub."

"But it makes Andy happy," Remington insists, needing to tell himself that his husband is happy or he'll crumble.

"Right now, Rem, you can't make yourself sad for someone else, okay, not even for Andy. You're the one who needs as much positivity as you can get and you shouldn't take it away from yourself."

Remington yawns. "But I don't know how to make myself happy."

Sebastian wishes he could do more. A one hour visit twice a week doesn't feel like enough. "Just little thing, bub, like watching your favourite movie, might really help, y'know?"

"What if Andy has left me?"

"There's no way he'd ever do that and you know it."

"There is! 'cause I'm so-I'm so replaceable."

"You're not."

After his brother is gone, Remington sits and draws, wondering why Emerson never came to see him, too. He decides he can't give himself anoher thing to stress over and forgets about it for now, concentrating on his drawing until his phone rings. It's Andy, and Remington scrambles to answer it.

"I'm coming home," Andy opens with.

"What? No, you can't."

"Remington, listen. I'm coming home. I can't do it. I can't be here knowing you're there. I'm coming home."

Remington sighs, half relief and half guilt for being the reason. "But what about your band, and-"

"I don't care about my band, not anymore. I'm done."

"What?"

"I realised, they're the reason I've been put through all this. They're the ones who moved without properly confiring with me first and they should have. So I'm done, I'm out, I'm coming back and I'm giving you a hug."

"What time is it over there?"

Andy is quiet while he checks. "Just gone two am."

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Yes. But I can't and I needed to talk to you."

"Well will you go to sleep now?"

The man hums. "Okay, for you. Oh, how are you? How're things at the hospital? Are you managing okay?"

"Too many questions."

"Oh, sorry."

"I'm fine. I'm having an eternal breakdown. I keep randomly crying over nothing. I dropped Harley this morning and burst into tears. And when Sebastian said hi, I burst into tears again. Everyone here must think I'm insane." He laughs at his own pathetic nature. "Should be in an insane asylum."

"You're not insane. Nothing wrong with crying, kitty."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I'm getting the plane tomorrow so I'll see you in two days, okay?"

"Okay."

"I love you," Andy says, lets Remington say it back, and hangs up. He puts his phone down and closes his eyes and tries to sleep, but being in this house is wrong, so he gets up, quietly carries his things downstairs, leaves a note on the kitchen counter, and slips out the door without waking anyone.

I hope your new singer is gay, married to the best (and most beautiful) rock singer around, has blue eyes and black hair, knows all the words to all 'your' songs, and can sing them with two broken ribs. Oh no...
That's me!
Damn, you're really losing a lot, huh? That's too bad.
Oh, just so you know....
I copywrited all the lyrics I wrote (including ones we were gonna record for the next album) so if you release them now, all the credits go to me.
Have a fantasic time in the land of white supremacy, you can find me on social media if u care to know what I'm up to.
Ta-ra now.
Andy x