Fix Me (Alternative ending)

Chapter 64

Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide, self harm, eating disorders, depression.

Andy isn't keen on leaving the house, though it's either that or being left on his own while Remington goes to the shop. He feels like he's not present in the room, as though his body is somewhere far away from his mind.

"You ready?" Remington asks, pulling a coat from the hanger and slipping his arms through the sleeves. He takes Andy's hand after the man has nodded, opening the door and waiting for him to step out and lock it. "You dyed your hair."

Andy hums.

"It's very pretty."

"So are your bracelets," the older says, "and you."

"And you," Remington smiles.

Andy releases his arm to link their arms. "I know I've not said much," he begins quietly, "but I really don't know how I would've got through the rest of that day without you. I kept planning out how I was gonna...y'know. Spent most of the time thinking about it, actually." He sighs. "Maybe I should'a just done it."

"You definitely shouldn't have."

"I had been crying there that whole morning. Wasn't even gonna send you the song at all. My plan was to leave it for you to find, y'know, after. I recorded it a week before you got it. Had to do so many takes 'cause I kept crying too much to sing. I only decided to send it 'cause I thought I might've already been past saving by the time you got to me. Didn't really expect you to come so quickly."

Remington presses a kiss to the side of his head, causing them to veer to the right slightly. "Well then, my darling, you were kidding yourself. I was just talking with Abi about going home to check on you when you sent it to me. I didn't forget about you."

Andy feels himself getting teary again, something that's been happening so much recently.

"You must be hurting so bad," the boy says, sadness in his voice. "I should've stayed."

"It's okay. It's alright. You're here now and if you think I'm letting you out of my sight then think the fuck again, princess." He pulls his phone from his pocket with his free hand. "You had a snoop on here?"

"Yep."

The man smiles.

"How'd you know."

"Changed my home screen."

"Thought it might make you smile."

"You thought right," Andy confirms, looking at the photo of Remington from when he was acting out the scene from Macbeth. "What were you doing? Checking for nudes?"

Remington snorts. It's good to know that Andy's still in there. "Absolutely. There weren't any. Might wanna change that." He looks at the man adoringly. "I was deleting the triggering stuff. Y'know, the self harm photos and suicide messages in your notes app. I think I got rid of everything bad."

The older hums, putting the device back in his pocket as they approach the shop. "What would I do without you?" He picks up a basket on the way in, the two keeping their arms linked as they pick up things from the shelves and fridges, dropping it all into the basket. "How's your eating?" Andy asks, not wanting Remington to think he doesn't care.

"Pretty good. I had a slice of cake yesterday." He picks up a bottle of milk. "Love you."

"That's good to hear. You know you left Harley when you went to Sebastian's? Love you too."

Remington nods.

"She's mine now."

"Not fair."

At checkout, Andy swipes his card in the machine, both of them taking a bag and walking out with their arms still linked. They put it all away before falling down onto the couch, not moving until Remington's phone rings.

"Abi," he greets, "hey."

"Hi Remington. You're late for a session today, is everything okay?"

"Oh shoot, sorry."

"Did you forget?"

"Yeah, sorry, we were at the shop."

"As long as you're okay. How's Andy doing? Any better?"

Remington looks at his husband before answering. "A bit. We're working on it. Sorry for making you wait."

"No worries. You have a good day, give Andy my love."

"Thank you," he says, and hangs up, frowning when he looks at Andy again to find that he's blinking back tears. "Hey, it's okay," he soothes, pulling the man into him.

"This keeps fuckin' happening."

"Nothing wrong with crying, darling. Abigail gives you her love."

Andy makes the most of the hug, still paranoid that he might wake up to find it's all been a dream.

Abigail is putting the phone down after the chat with Remington when Phoebe bursts into the room. She looks at her daughter, waiting for her to say something. "What?"

"You know, for a therapist, you're pretty damn shit at it."

"Thankyou so much for that valuable piece of feedback."

Phoebe sits on the desk. "So I need to use your car."

"What's wrong with yours?"

"Won't start. So...keys?"

Abigail shakes her head. "Nice try. You're an adult, take yours to the garage. I need mine."

"What for?"

"What is this, twenty one questions?"

The girl huffs and slides off the table. "They won't let me back into the band," she complains, failing to mention how she manipulated Andy into accepting her into his own music.

"Well have you apologised for what you said?"

"No, why would I-"

"There's your problem."

Andy's tears continue steadily for some time, and he realises he's gonna have to tell Remington about Phoebe. The thought makes the tears heavier, until finally, after much mental discomfort, he says, and with shame, "Phoebe's Abigail's daughter. She's-she made me not tell you and said she would if I didn't let her be my bassist."

"You what now?