Help Me (sequel to Save Me)

Chapter 98

It's a miracle!!!!! No trigger warning!!!!

User 1: Guys! Remington is back on Instagram @remingtonleith !!!
User 2: YESSSSSSSSSSSS
User 3: Guys! Don't spam him with questions about stuff he's told us not to ask him about! Give him a nice welcome back!
User 4: This is not going to end well.

Remington Leith: Hi!!! I'm back!!! Be nice, I'm delicate, and go give my beautiful husband some love for being so fantastically perfect!! @andyblack Going live later to talk to you all after being gone so long. I just ask that no one comments on my appearance negatively please. Still working on being body confident. It is a long road. Anyway, I love you all, see you later!!! (yes, Andy might make an appearance if we're lucky)

Remington and Emerson are in an art gallery. They've been here for an hour or so, just talking and looking at art. Emerson keeps having to remind himself not to mention Remington's weight, and how bony his hands are, even though he really wants to ask about it, to make sure that his brother is eating. He remembers the phone call he had with Andy after the man told him they'd got rid of the diet pills. "You need to not mention it," Andy had said, "it'll only make him feel worse about it. Even if he is refusing to eat, don't force him. It doesn't work like that."

"Hey, Em, have we been in there?" The singer asks, pointing towards a room.

"No, I don't think so."

The boy hums, and wonders through the doorway, Emerson beside him. "You know, Em, I've been thinking," he says, stopping and sitting on a padded bench to look at a painting.

"Oh yeah? What about?"

Remington looks at his brother, and then back at the piece of art, which he doesn't even like. "I want to adopt."

Emerson nearly falls off the bench. "What?"

"I want to adopt a child with Andy."

The drummer is surprised Remington is saying this. "Right. When? In a few years, yeah?"

Looking at his brother again, Remington shakes his head. "No, Em, in a few months or something. Why are you so surprised?"

"I don't know, you just seem-" he pauses for a moment, not sure that what he is about to say is a good idea, but then says it, anyway. "Unstable."

Remington frowns, like he doesn't understand. "Unstable?" His voice is hurt, he sounds wounded. "Unstable?" He asks again, when Emerson doesn't respond straight away.

The drummer nods and shrugs, like it isn't a big deal. "Well you know what unstable means, don't you?"

"Yes, thankyou, I know what it means. But what do you mean?"

Emerson stands up. "I mean, Remington, you're unstable. Like-mentally unstable. How are you supposed to look after a child if you can't even look after yourself?" He regrets what he says the moment he's said it, specially when he sees the sad, ashamed expression on Remington's face. "I'm sorry, Remington, I just-I don't know if it's a good idea for you. I mean-you're still recovering, aren't you?" When he asks this, his eyes flick up and down the older's body, and Remington crosses his arms protectively.

"Got it," he says flatly, and turns and walks away. The way Emerson looked at him was so disappointed. Remington feels like such a let down. And Emerson is right. He is unstable. He can't look after himself. He's stupid for thinking he could ever be a parent. He's just stupid.

Emerson chases after Remington, walking quickly. "Remington, wait," he says, and the singer turns around.

"What for? Are you gonna weigh me? Then you'll know jut show underweight I really am. Well, Emerson, I might still be underweight, but I'm heavier than I was two weeks ago. Why can't you understand that recovery doesn't work with a click of the fingers. It's hard, Emerson, it is so hard. But I'm trying. Isn't that enough?" He turns around again, and walks away. This time, Emerson doesn't go after him. "It's never enough," the singer mumbles to himself, "I'm never enough." He finds the café and buys a bottle of water, and sits on one of the sofas at the back.

The boy sips the water and sighs. He wonders if Emerson really is right. Is he really so unstable that he can't look after a child? His phone buzzes in his pocket. It's a text from Andy.
Everything okay? You haven't ripped out each other's throats yet?

Remington can't help but to smile at the message.
That is debateable.

Oh no. I don't like how that sounds. What happened?

He's just being all judgy and dramatic.

Talk to him. Please? And have lunch!!

UGH!!!

I love you too xx

Yeah love you but I'm mad rn :((

Aw don't be mad. Talk to him and if it doesn't go well I'll come pick you up. Don't want you being abandoned in a strange place again.

Yeah will do. Thanks. How's Lonny?

He's great. He says hi.

I say hi back. Going to find Em. ILY

He puts his phone down and looks up to see Emerson standing in front of him. "If you get me a salad, I'll think about being civil and talking to you," the singer says.

Emerson smiles. "Sure," he agrees, heading towards the counter.

"No cheese!"

Emerson returns with a tray and puts it down on the table, sitting opposite his brother and picking up a sandwich. "Look, Remington, I'm sorry. I really am. I'm just-I'm worried, okay? You look so fragile."

"I am fragile, Em, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of looking after myself." He eyes the plastic box of salad, and hesitantly picks it up. "Just-I'll talk about it with Andy, okay, but for now, let me have this dream."

"Okay, but only because Andy knows you very well."

Remington texts Andy back, letting him know that he won't need picking up and that everything is okay with Emerson, and the two brothers drive home after a few more hours in the gallery. Andy is already home when Remington gets back, and holds up the clean red hoodie in front of the boy. "It just came out of the dryer," he says, "here, and you're gong live, yeah?"

The boy takes it with a grin and pulls his hoodie off, accidentally pulling his shirt off with it, too. "Yep," he replies, putting the red hoodie on and taking his clothes upstairs. "I want to talk to you about something later," he calls from the top of the stairs.

Andy just smiles. "Sure thing. I trust you had lunch?"

"Yes! I'm going live up here because the bed is calling me!"

Andy laughs and ascends the stairs, joining his husband on the bed, lying on his front like Remington is. "What happened to your jeans?"

"Took them off."

"I can see that. And are you keeping them off?"

"Yep." Remington finds the live setting on his Instagram story, and props his phone up with a pillow. People join pretty much as soon as he's started the stream, and him and Andy grin at the camera like idiots. "Hello!" He greets, cheerful, "long time not see."

"He's not wearing any trousers," Andy says, and Remington hits his arm. "Sorry, sweetheart, I couldn't help myself."

Remington just smiles. "He's not wearing any underwear."

"Okay, that isn't true."

"Shush, they don't know that." He focusses on the comments for a moment, reading one out. "Remington, we missed you. I missed you, too! Are you married? Yep, to this beautiful creature. We haven't heard much from Palaye recently. Have you heard the new album? If you haven't-you should!"

"He's also singing the backing vocals in most of the songs in the new Black Veil Brides album," Andy says, proud

The younger picks up the glass of water by the bed, and tips it too far forward when he sips it, tipping water onto the bed. "Shit," he says, looking at Andy's amused face. "Some people on here haven't seen me before and the first impression they get is of me spilling water on the bed."

Andy just laughs.