Fix Me (Alternative ending)

Chapter 54

Trigger warning: Mentions of eating disorders, general depression.

Sitting on the hotel bed, Andy sighs. He doesn't know what to say now. Remington joins him, sits close to him. "What's wrong?" He asks.

The older shakes his head in absence of a real response. His gaze doesn't move from his lap.

"Did I do something to upset you?" Remington asks, recalling the past few days for anything he might've said that could have been hurtful.

"No, sweetheart."

The boy nods, relieved.

"It's just me being silly," Andy explains, "it's fine, don't worry about it. I'll check when the boat ride is." He turns his attention to his phone. Remington knowing that he's only doing it to avoid the conversation. He's never been one to talk about himself.

"You know it's not silly if it makes you sad," the younger says, putting his hand over the phone screen. He sighs when Andy says nothing more, prying the device from his fingers and putting it down beside him, where the man can't reach.

Andy gets up. "Look, it's fine. I don't wanna talk about it. Not in the mood."

"But-"

"Remington, it's fine," he says and takes his phone back.

The boy sighs. "No it's not," he insists, "what's wrong?"

Andy tries not to glare. He knows it's not Remington's fault and he shouldn't take it out on him. "I'll tell you later," he says flatly.

Remington watches him look for the email with the boat trip time confirmation, wondering if he should say anything else. "You know you're allowed to hurt, too."

"Please drop it."

"Andy, it's-"

"It's nothing, okay? Drop it."

"But-"

The man shakes his head. "Remington," he warns, finding the email.

"Sorry," the boy mumbles, "I'm sorry. I'll shut up."

Andy shakes his head again. "It's not your fault."

The room is quiet. Remington feels like he should remind his husband that they haven't had breakfast yet and that he's not supposed to skip breakfast, but isn't sure it's the right time, so he stays quiet.

"Boat's at half three," the man says, just to avoid the current situation of their awkward conversation. He knows Remington is waiting for him to say something more.

"Andy, what's wrong?" His voice is careful. The last thing they need is an argument.

"I don't know."

"Please tell me."

Andy sighs, looks down. "I don't wanna ruin the day," he says, "it's fine. I'll be fine."

"The day'll be more ruined if you're not okay," Remington responds, the overly comforting feeling of being hungry settling in his mind and stomach. "What's your number?"

The man shrugs.

"Ten?"

He shrugs again.

"Higher?"

"Remington, it's fine."

"Fifteen?"

"Remington, please," Andy insists, getting worked up because he wants to talk about it but doesn't know what to say.