Make Me (Remdy)

We All Need Help

Trigger warnings: Blood/injury, death, mentions of suicide, panic attack, PTSD.

Sorry babes but you know what you're getting into when you read my books. Name ONE that isn't traumatic, I'm waiting.

The band travel to a snowy mountain for the filming of a music video. Remington is rather looking forward to the week. Getting away from the city for a while could do him some good. It's also the first time he's dared to leave since his brothers' accident, partly because of feeling guilty about travelling too far from them, but mostly because he can't bear the thought of stepping foot on a motorway again.

They take three cars. Andy drives one – his own expensive black BMW – with the drummer, bassist, and rhythm guitarist, while Remington sits in the back of the photographer's car with the director in the passenger seat, and the makeup and editing crew fill up the third vehicle.

The motorway that they pull out onto is unfortunately the same one where he lost his brothers. Remington prays that they pass the turning, but they don't, and he watches Andy's car ahead of them speeding up on the wide road. He swallows to settle his traumatic memories but it doesn't do much help. He still knows the spot where it happened. How could he not? He was there, after all, in the back of the car that was hit. If he had been in the front, and not Emerson, they could have swapped positions. Emerson could still be walking and talking and trying his best to get over the loss. Then again, Remington knows if it had been that way, the youngest of the three would have most likely taken his own life by now.

Sometimes Remington wonders if doing that would help. Perhaps then he could see them again, could hug them, could apologise for taking so long, for being so late to the party.

They catch Andy up once they're on the motorway. Whoever is driving seems to enjoy marginally going above the limit. When they pass Andy's pretty black vehicle, Remington looks out the window and quickly looks away when it seems Andy catches his gaze. He closes his eyes for a second or two and reminds himself to calm down. Nothing's going to happen.

It's busy on the motorway today, which isn't surprising considering it's a Friday and everybody is going away for the weekend. Remington tries to avoid letting his vision linger on large, top-heavy lorries that rumble by on the other side of the metal barrier. He looks down at his hands, his knees, the carpeted floor beneath his feet which are resting there. Then he takes his phone from his pocket and attempts to distract himself that way. He's gained a lot of followers since joining Andy's band. That's not what it's called – the actual name is Black Veil Brides – but everyone calls it Andy's band because it might as well be and it's clear he holds the reins. Most of his new followers are surprisingly welcoming. They call him pretty and talented, and he even has fanart already. It could be worse, he supposes.

When he lifts his focus from the screen which he could hardly pay any attention to for two minutes, he can see the sign for junction eighteen. Four junctions to go, he thinks, and tries to shake the thought.

Andy watches the familiar car pass him. He has never been a fan of driving so fast like that. Sure, he's not one to cause traffic by going painfully slowly, but there's a speed limit for a reason. Accidents happen and he isn't about to be in one. And his car is way too expensive for a dent to intrude into the body work.

Remington is alarmed when the person driving answers a phone call. Nobody else seems bothered by it and that makes it so much worse. Don't they know it's illegal to talk on the phone while driving? And on a motorway? Are they asking for an early death? He doesn't say anything because it isn't his place but as the minutes pass, he begins feeling his heart in his throat.

Soon, there's three junctions to go and he feels like he could be sick. This is the first time on the motorway for months and yet he still knows what's coming, what's around the corner. The emergency telephone on the wall in a lay-by, the chevrons painted on the ground reminding drivers to stay 'two chevrons apart' because then there's time to brake if the car in front were to suddenly come to a halt. The large sign explaining it's half a mile to the next service station, that 'tiredness can kill, take a break.' The streetlights that arch over the traffic and the cat-eyes in the middle of the road and the bridge that has a banner for a pub nailed to it. He closes his eyes and the road is still there.

Junction twenty is hard to see without opening the door and jumping out. Remington realises his hands have begun shaking. He clamps them tightly together to hide it. The driver is still talking on the phone. Remington wants to yell at him to stop. He can't.

He turns and looks behind them, finding the black BMW a few cars back, driving at a much safer, comfortable speed. Remington suddenly wishes he was with Andy for the journey even though he's a rude, insufferable man. At least he knows how to drive safely. He probably just loves himself too much to allow any danger to be brought upon him.

Passing the sign for junction twenty-one is even harder. Remington thinks he's having a panic attack but he couldn't be sure. He leans forwards and put his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, to try and calm himself. Unsurprisingly but annoyingly, it doesn't help. Nothing could help.

As they're approaching junction twenty-two, he can't pull his eyes from the corner that they're about to turn, can't stop himself from automatically visualising the top-heavy, orange lorry that rattles unsteadily past. He knows it's not real but that doesn't matter because it seems real.

He watches the over sized vehicle going faster than it should and he can hear Sebastian talking about the song that's on the radio and then he notices the lorry beginning to sway and his heart bangs wildly against his rib cage like an angry lion trying to break free of captivity.

The wheels on the yellow hunk of metal seem so large, Remington thinks, and Emerson says, 'maybe you should go into the next lane,' because he can see it too. Sebastian glances at him and Remington screams and then there's an awful, awful crash, followed by bangs and the shattering of glass.

Then all Remington can hear is ringing in his ears and he can feel hot blood on his head and his shoulder and he scrambles to get to his brothers even though it's agony to move.

Then he sees the stillness of Sebastian's open eyes and the alarming amount of blood and the puncture of glass in the side of his head and he screams and screams and screams and Emerson doesn't scream with him because he has no air in his lungs to scream with and Remington knows he's in hell.