Make Me (Remdy)

We All Deserve A Friend

Trigger warnings: Mentions of depression, death.

Andy doesn't see Remington for almost four weeks after their argument in the graveyard. He doesn't turn up to rehearsals, not that Andy expected him to, and he has the unpleasant job of explaining to his band that he basically caused him to leave by upsetting him so much.

It isn't completely a coincidence when he and the younger cross paths once again, three and a half weeks later, in the graveyard.

Remington looks wrecked. It doesn't take a genius to see that. He looks at Andy without speaking before resuming his care of his brother's flowers, eyes glossy with constant tears.

Andy sits on the grass and squints in the afternoon sun, watching the younger with sympathy.

"What do you want?" Remington asks eventually, his voice weak, uninterested.

"I wanted to apologise."

Looking at him, Remington shakes his head. "Why? It's not like you've ever cared before."

"Look, Remington, I know I've been a dick to you and I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realise you were going through shit and I know that isn't an excuse, but..."

"No, it's not."

The man sighs again and nods.

"What happened to you, anyway? You look shit."

"Gee, thanks." Andy pokes at the ground. "Juliet cheated on me."

"Oh."

"I mean...I probably deserved it, but it still hurts, y'know?"

"I know how you feel."

"Yeah?"

Remington shrugs. "Happened to me too. Not with my wife, obviously. I'm not married. My boyfriend. We were together six years. Then he decided he had turned straight and slept with three girls in one day."

"I knew you were gay."

Remington sends him an unimpressed look.

"Sorry."

"You really are a dick."

"Yeah, I know."

"I am sorry, though. No one deserves to be cheated on. No matter how rude they are."

Andy rolls his eyes. "Thanks."

"Why do you keep coming here?" Asks Remington.

"I told you. I like it."

"Yeah, and I believe that because I'm an idiot."

"Wouldn't put it past you."

Remington shakes his head and looks at the gravestones, face saddening at the sight.

"My son," Andy mumbles, "he should be here."

"You have a son?"

"Well, I did have a son. Juliet was pregnant a few years ago. He wasn't well when he was born and he died barely a week later. I wanted to bury him here, but she got him cremated."

"Oh, shit."

"Probably for the best, really. I shouldn't be a father, I can't even look after myself."