Help Me (sequel to Save Me)

Chapter 16

Trigger warning? Idk. Kinda. Depressing thoughts and stuff.

In the king sized bed, Remington finds it hard to fall asleep. He forgot to bring his pills with him, which probably explains why he isn't feeling so happy, either. He wonders if he'd go back to feeling like he did before he went to hospital if he stopped taking the medication altogether. Is he recovering, of are the pills just mind washing him?

Andy is playing with his hair. "What's the matter, princess?" He whispers, sensing the uneasiness.

"Do you have any sleeping pills?" He asks, looking up at the man.

With a hum, Andy kisses his head. "Yeah, I think so. Do you want me to find them for you?" Once he gets a reply, he sits up and gets out of bed.

Remington yawns. "Sorry," he murmurs.

"No, stop, don't say it," the man says, "I'll be right back." He disappears off to find some sleeping pills, and leaves Remington alone on the room with his thoughts.

He can't stop thinking about what Johnathon said. That he doesn't deserve Andy, that the man needs someone to treat him better. Is Remington not good enough? He looks around the room. It's so cosy, so welcoming. This is where he wants to be. Here. In this house. With this man.

But there's a problem.

He doesn't feel worthy. He feels like a piece of steel in a bowl of silver. A stone in a pile of diamonds. A disappointment. Such a disappointment.

I'm supposed to be a rock star, a bad ass. I'm meant to be playing live shows and hugging fans and fighting with security in venues because they won't let me climb. I'm supposed to be cheerful, loud. I'm meant to be an inspiration. But what am I? A disappointment.

He doesn't know how his thoughts escalate so quickly. This doesn't happen when he takes those pills. So that means that his brain is juts fucked up, doesn't it? If he can't even control his thoughts, then he definitely doesn't deserve Andy, or the love his brothers give him.

Maybe Holly was right all along. Maybe I am better off dead.

He rubs his eyes and realises he's crying. So weak.

Andy comes back with a bottle of pills and a glass of water, frowning at the sight of the boy in tears on the bed. He quickly puts the things down on the table. "Sweetheart, hey, what's wrong?" His tone is soothing, and Remington looks at him and shakes his head.

"I feel so sad," he mutters, "Andy, why do I feel so sad?"

The man's heart aches for him. It's painful to see him like this, but at least Remington is talking to him, trusting him. "Oh kitten, come here," he offers, opening his arms.

Would Andy still use pet names if he didn't love him? Remington sniffles and wipes his eyes, hesitant about accepting the embrace. What if he doesn't deserve it? "I can't," he sobs, moving away from his lover and bringing his knees up to his chest.

"Why not?" Andy asks carefully. Is he scaring the boy. A shake of the head is all he gets in response. "Do you want me to go?" If he is scared, then Andy knows the best thing to do is to just give him space.

Remington shakes his head. "Want a hug," he mumbles, "but-but I don't-I don't deserve it." His hands are shaking like they always used to. He hates this. "I don't deserve you."

The words break Andy's heart. He can't bear the pain that the poor boy is in. "If anything, baby boy, I don't deserve you," he says gently, "Johnathon is wrong. No one has ever been more wrong. You are so beautiful and special and you deserve the fucking world. Come here, sweetheart, you need a cuddle."

Still, Remington is hesitant, but slowly moves himself closer to Andy and gratefully curls into him. "I don't know why you're still here," he whispers, rubbing his eyes again.

Andy kisses his head and rubs his back. "I'm not going anywhere." He feels the boy shuffle around and waits for him to settle before talking again. "I'm here because I love you, I care about you, and I need you. I don't care if you're wearing a suit or some tracksuits, and I don't care if you've got make up on or not, or if you've spiked your hair, and I don't care if you are laughing or crying, singing or sleeping. Kitten, I love you. I love every single part of you. More than that; I adore you. It doesn't matter what you're doing, or wearing, or anything. I love you. Nothing will ever change that. I'm always going to be here." His voice  and his words are so soothing, so calming, and Remington closes his eyes.

"Promise?"

The man kisses his head again. "I promise. Here, I got you the pills."

Remington nods and sits up. "I love you," he says, not even flinching when Andy wipes tears from his cheeks. He takes two sleeping pills and sinks back down into the mattress, so beyond thankful for Andy. His body is curled up into his boyfriend's side and he rests his head on his chest.

Andy strokes his hair. "You okay now?" His question is sincere. He wants to know that Remington won't start crying again.

The younger nods against his chest. "Think so. Thankyou." He yawns.

"Goddnight, princess, sweet dreams."