Fix Me (Alternative ending)

Chapter 39

Trigger warning - mentions of anorexia, brief mention of self harm.

Today, much to his delight, Remington is allowed another day out with someone, as long as he's with someone responsible and who will make sure he stays safe. Remington is more than happy when Andy agrees, and bounds out of the building beside the man. "Can we go back to that place?" He asks, lively, and Andy chuckles. "The one we went to last time."

Unlocking the car and smiling, Andy opens the passenger door for Remington. "Sure, that sounds great." He kisses Remington's head. "Oh, I heard from Emerson."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, he said he's sorry."

Remington  laughs.

"What?"

"Oh nothing, just that he's not sorry and we're fucked."

Andy nods. "Yeah, I got that. Anyway, let's not even think about that. We're gonna have a good day, right?"

"Right. A good day." He grabs Andy's face and kisses him before getting in the vehicle. "I like your hair today."

"Only today?"

"Oh, shut up and get in the car, please."

"Charming. You should braid your hair." He shuts Remington's door and walks round to the other side.

"You can braid it," Remington offers, once Andy is sitting in the driver's seat.

"I don't even know how to braid hair."

The younger shrugs. "Google it." He leans his head on the window and yawns.

"Not sleep well?"

"No, they gave me new meds. They've been messing with me all morning. I don't even know if they're helping."

Andy pulls out of the carpark. "Messing with you how?"

Remington shrugs. "Making me shaky and stuff. It's fine, it'll probably stop soon, it normally does."

"Tell me if it gets worse, okay?"

"Okay," Remington agrees, "love you."

"I love you too, princess."

The boy smiles and looks at his phone. "Harley has more followers than Emerson. Bet he loves that."

"How is it possible for a cuddly toy to have two hundred thousand followers?"

"Aesthetics," Remington sings, turning his attention to his phone for ten minutes. "You should dye your hair. I reckon you'd look hot with blue."

"I don't look hot now?" Andy asks, smiling.

"Of course you do, don't be silly. I just think blue would look so good."

The older stops at traffic lights and glances at his husband.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just can't ever get over your beauty."

"Oh, shut up," Remington smiles, "it's green, drive."

The two choose things to paint and sit painting them quietly for a while, until Andy gets up to buy a pot of tea from the cafe. He comes back with the tea and a muffin for himself, pouring a mug for Remington. "That looks so cool!" He gushes, leaning into Remington to look at the bowl he's painting.

Remington grins.

"Mine's shit, look."

"No it's not, don't be ridicukous."

The older smiles and tips milk into both their mugs. "I like this," he says, "I like that we can do this, y'know?"

"Me too," Remington agrees, glancing at the blueberry muffin before picking up a small paintbrish and dipping it in a pink. "I like our relationship."

Andy hums. "I love it." He pulls back the paper on the muffin and bites into it.

Remington paints careful lines onto his plate, glancing at the sweet treat again. He puts the brush down and, after a moment of contemplating, picks up the muffin and takes a bite. The taste is so welcomed; it's been ages since he's had something sweet like this.

Andy smiles but says nothing. He can't. It'd put Remington off completely.

The boy goes back to his bowl, finishing off the pink lines quietly.

"I'm using your blue," Andy says, "it's better than mine."

"Oh, sure, I don't need it anymore." He looks down at his bowl, resting the brush on the pallatte and touching his fingers to his wrist. The boy sighs audibly and Andy puts a hand over his without saying anything. "It's okay, right?" Remington mumbles, biting the inside of his mouth.

Andy kisses the side of his head. "'course it is."

Picking up the brush again, the younger swirls it in the water pot and dips it in the white paint, tracing thin lines over the pink and seeing cuts despite not wanting to. He dips the brush in white again and carries on with the lines, frustrated when his hands start trembling.

"Sweetheart, take a breath, okay?" Andy whispers.

"Sorry," Remington whispers back, "I need the loo."

"No, baby boy, no need for any of that."

Remington looks at his hands.

"Nothing wrong with eating a muffin, sweetheart. Nothing wrong with with eating anything. You deserve to enjoy sweet things." He kisses the side of his head. "Let's not spiral, okay? You wanna paint my plate for a bit? I'm sure you can make it so much better."

The boy nods. "'kay," he agrees, "but it's already very good." He carefully takes the pottery from his husband. "You can paint mine, then. My hands are too shaky for the lines now."

Andy smiles. "Sure thing, buttercup."

"You make it better," Remington whispers, half to himself. Andy ruffles his hair and picks up the brush.