We All Get Carried Away

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Trigger warnings: Mentions of death, depression (+side effects of depression), suicide, self-harm.

Remington remembers waking in the hospital after the accident. He had a broken collar bone, concussion, whiplash, and, of course, the overwhelming desire to murder himself.

Both Shy and Larisa were sitting by the bed when he woke from the medically induced sleep. They lifted their heads when they saw he was moving and Larisa said, "hi, buddy. Good to see you."

Remington blinked heavily and rubbed his eyes with his arm that wasn't in a sling. Then he closed his eyes and pushed his head back into the pillow.

The women looked at eachother and then Shy spoke. "They said you're really lucky to have survived."

Remington didn't want to talk and he wasn't lucky. He felt achy and exhausted and pointless.

Handling the deaths got progressively worse as the days passed. By the time Remington was released form hospital, he was spending most of his time either crying or sleeping or cutting himself.

Affording the funeral, the coffins, and the graves was a struggle. They barely had enough money as it was and spending £1000 just to get his brothers a nice burial was difficult. Both Shy and Larisa lent him a couple hundred each and Remington blew the last of the savings he and his brothers had saved from their childhood to afford gravestones that weren't just grey lumps.

It didn't feel worth the money either, because all Remington wanted for the funeral was to know that his brothers would have been happy with it, but he couldn't get through it without crumpling into tears and that made it so much worse.

The first time sitting at the graves didn't feel real. Just the week before, he had been sat in a car with them and laughing, and now he was sitting alone, and they'd never laugh with him again.

After two weeks, Remington was deep into depression and it got so bad that he'd lost the motivation and the self-respect to even get out of bed to use the bathroom. She and Larisa would come around most days and do their best to help him by getting him into the shower and cleaning his sheets. They'd make him microwavable food and leave it in his fridge, along with paying his bills when he forgot and, because even though they were hurting and mourning, they knew Remington was hurting so much more and they couldn't ever let him try and get through it on his own.

After a month, it seemed he was out of the worst of it and so the two started keeping their distance a little because they didn't want him to feel suffocated, but then Shy got a phone call at three in the morning and Remington was going on and on about 'going to be with them' so she spent the night looking after him and talking him off the cliff.

By the two-month anniversary of the accident, Remington was looking for a band to join. He was determined to continue playing music because it's what he and his brothers shared, and he wanted to remember them in any way he could.

By three months, he had joined Andy's band and things seemed to be looking up just a little bit.

Now it's been four months and he's staring to realise that he isn't 'getting better', but that he's handling it by lashing out on anybody that shows even the littlest interest in him, which is a terrible way to handle it.

Remington regrets what he said to Andy yesterday. He knows it was a step too far and that he got carried away and that, whether Andy is a dick or not, his dead son still deserves the same respect that Emerson and Sebastian deserve.

Andy's expression is one of bored disappointment when he opens the door to Remington. "Oh, great," he says under his breath, folding his arms over his chest. "What do you want?"

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