Help Me (sequel to Save Me)

Chapter 17

Trigger warning?
Early in the morning, at around two, Remington's phone ringing wakes both the sleeping men up. Remington reaches over Andy to grab his phone, answering it without reading who it is. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end is agitated. "Remington, it's Sebastian, he's in hospital."

The singer sits up at Emerson's words. "What?"

"Alcohol poisoning," the drummer informs him, "I'm at the hospital with him."

Remington doesn't know what to say. He hangs up and just stares at the wall. "I-I need to go," he stutters.

Andy turns the light on. "What's going on, princess, who was that?" He sits up beside his boyfriend and brushes hair from his face.

"Sebastian-Sebastian is at hospital. I need to go." The boy is in shock. He thought Sebastian had stopped drinking. "Why can't he stop fucking drinking? Fucking alcohol!" He doesn't mean to shout, but he just doesn't know how else to deal with this situation. His big brother is in hospital. The last time they were in hospital it was because Remington had re-opened his stitches, and Sebastian was there to help him, to look after him. Wow, things have changed.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it's alright, deep breaths. I'll come with you to the hospital, okay, everything is okay." Andy is talking slowly, calmly.

It goes quiet for a moment while Remington tries to think, to get to grips with what is happening. "I-I-," is all he manages to say, and hurriedly gets out of bed.

The older man gets up too, and finds a hoodie for Remington to wear. "He's going to be alright," he soothes, helping Remington into the hoodie and kissing his head.

Remington shudders. "I know, but what if-what if I'm not alright?" Everything seems so difficult right now. How do things change so fast?

"I will be here. Whatever happens, I will be here. You're okay."

The two drive to hospital, with Andy quietly reminding the younger that it's all okay, that he's going to be okay. Remington is a mess. He just wants to know that Sebastian is okay. And he needs to know that he'll stop drinking. Remington knows that he wouldn't be feeling this fucking sad if he had taken his pills yesterday like he was supposed to. He hates how he only feels okay when he's swallowed some pills. Why is it that he can't just be happy?

They get to the hospital and are taken into a white room, almost identical to the one Remington was in for so long after being stabbed. Sebastian is awake in the bed, dreary eyed, with Emerson in the chair beside him. "Remington," he says quietly, watching the boy come in, Andy just behind him.

"Are you okay?" Remington asks, not releasing Andy's hand.

Sebastian nods. "I'm okay," he replies, "I just got worried about you when you didn't come home." None of them have ever heard the man talking like this. He normally sounds so confident, so strong.

"But I texted you," the boy mumbles, confused. He leans into the warmth of Andy as the rock star hugs him from behind, swaying gently.

The guitarist sits himself up. "Oh," is all he says, "when?"

Remington sighs. This is such a fucking mess. He wants to go back to Andy's and just snuggle with the man until he goes to sleep. "I don't know, Sebby, around seven." His voice is shaky, and he feels like this is his fault. He never should have gone out with Andy in the first place, then this wouldn't be happening.

A knowing look crosses Sebastian's face. He can see the way his brother is acting, how his hands are trembling. He knows Remington thinks it's his fault, and he hates himself for causing that. Remington was finally happy. "I started drinking at six," he states, ashamed of letting it get this bad. "God, I am so fucking sorry." He sounds so hurt, so upset with what he's done.

The blue eyed man's arms are secure around Remington, who is just looking at Sebastian. "Why do you do it, Sebby, why do you drink?"

Sebastian looks down. He has to talk about it, and now is the time. "To forget things I don't want to remember," he answers, "and to get rid of the pain, the anger, everything." He knows it's wrong to drink like he does, God, he knows. But it's so easy.

"I want you to stop," Remington says seriously, "Sebastian, I need you to stop. Please. For me, and Em, and for yourself. Please stop." He looks at Emerson, who's just sitting and listening, saddened by how his brothers are talking. "I need you, Sebby. I need you so much, and I can't-I can't handle it when you drink. I don't want you going anywhere." For some reason, the way the boy talks, and the tone he uses, sinks so deep into Sebastian's heart and soul and he knows, God, he knows, that he needs to stop. If he doesn't, then he's going to end up really hurting Remington.

Andy notices Remington scratching his wrists again, and holds his hands to stop him without saying a word about it. He doesn't need to bring attention to it. Sebastian sees this, and he sees how safe the man makes his brother feel, how careful he is with everything he does, and he decides, right then, that the best and safest place for Remington is with Andy. It is relieving, in a way, to know that his sweet brother is with someone who will take such good care of him. He was with Holly for so long and he deserves a relationship that is kind to him. He deserves that more than anyone. "I promise you I will get help," Sebastian says confidently, boldly. "I'm going to get help."

A heavy sigh of sheer relief leaves the singer's lips, and he manages a gentle smile. "Thank you," he says, and yawns, rubbing his eyes.

"Go back to Andy's, pumpkin, get some sleep. I'm okay."

At his big brother's words, Remington nods, and steps away from Andy to briefly hug Sebastian. "I'm so glad you're okay," he whispers, and then goes back to Andy, taking his hand and leaving the room. "Sorry for dragging you into this," he mumbles to his boyfriend as they get in the car.

The man shakes his head and starts the car. "Nonsense. You are family to me, baby boy, and, like I said before, I will always be here."

Remington heart feels full when he hears this. All he's ever wanted is for someone other than his brothers to call him family. "Thank you so much for not giving up on me." He leans his head against the window and closes his eyes. "I know that I'm a fucking walking disaster."

"Now that's just not true. You need to stop brining yourself down, princess, it's no good. I wish you could see how fucking wonderful you really are." He glances at the boy beside him. "Remington, sweetheart, would you like to move in with me?" The question has been long awaited, he knows it has.

The tired young man looks at his lover with a soft smile. "Really?"

Andy hums. "Absolutely," he says matter-of-factly.

"Yes," Remington murmurs, and yawns again.

When they get back to Andy's, Remington doesn't protests as the man opens his car door and picks him up in his arms. "You are adorable," he coos, putting him down to unlock the front door and then picking him up again. "Do you know how far you've come since you were last here?" Remington shakes his head. "Well, last time you were here, you struggled to hug me, and you could never stay over night without getting really scared, and now look at you, comfortable with me carrying you and hugging you, and you weren't scared last night."

It's true. He has come a long way. The sleepy boy smiles and hums when he's laid in bed. "Can I really live with you?"

Andy gets in the bed, too, and holds Remington to his chest. "Of course you can, pretty." He finds Remington's hands and holds them. "I'm going to get you a stress ball," he says quietly, comfortingly.

"Or you could just never let go of my hands," Remington says in response, cheered up by the loving words of his boyfriend.

"Or I could do that," the rock star agrees.