Fix Me (Alternative ending)

Chapter 68

Trigger warning: Mentions of anxiety, self harm.

Remington sits in the car not wanting to get out. He feels his heart sink right out of his body when Abigail steps down the front steps and towards the car in which he sits.

She opens his door and crouches so she's level with him. "What's going on?" She asks, "you've been hiding here for ten minutes."

Remington looks down and stays quiet.

"We've missed two sessions in a row now, Remington, and I'd be stupid to believe it's just a coincidence. Are you alright?"

He says nothing.

"Come on, come inside. Let's talk about this."

"I don't want to," Remington tells her flatly.

Abigail sighs. "Has this got something to do with Phoebe?"

"No."

"Remington," she begins, "I know it's upsetting."

The boy just huffs.

"We can talk about it, okay? But only if you come inside."

"I don't want to," he repeats, as though he's a toddler refusing to go to bed. He folds his arms and stares, so intently that it hurts his eyes, at his lap.

Abigail frowns. "Why's that?"

Remington pulls the two bracelets from his wrist and throws them at the ground beside his therapist.

"I get it, Remington, I do. I know Phoebe does and says questionable things, but-"

"No."

"You're scratching."

The boy just scratches harder to piss her off.

"Remington, hey, listen. You can't let this get in the way, alright? I understand it's upsetting and it's okay if you don't wanna talk to me right now, but please don't give up on recovery because of it."

"I'm going home," he says, and doesn't say another word.

Abigail lets him go, but not before picking up the bracelets and dropping them safely into the pocket on the inside of the door.

When Remington loudly slams enters the house and kicks his shoes off, agitated, Andy comes to see what he's making so much noise for, and to work out why he's home an hour before he should be. He picks up the discarded shoes and sets them down by the door, turning to his husband, who huffs and throws his arms in the air.

"What?" He snaps, and Andy raises an eyebrow.

"So therapy went well, huh?"

"Fucking fantastic, I'm having the best damn day!"

"I can see that."

Remington just looks down and scratches at his wrists again, until Andy takes his hands.

"Come now, tell daddy what's wrong."

The boy looks up and scrunches his face into a dissatisfied expression. "EW."

Andy just smiles.

"Okay, fine. I didn't even get out the car."

"That's not good, sweetheart."

"Duh." He pouts. "Confusion."

Andy pulls him into the living room. "Did you talk to her at all?"

"She came out and I just told her I don't wanna talk to her."

"And took off the bracelets?" Andy asks, seeing the boy's bare wrists.