Make Me (Remdy)

We All Take

The flatmate I've been crushing on likes me back yall :)) 

Trigger warnings: Death, depression, self harm, suicide 

The day after the horrible therapy session, Remington lies in bed all morning poking at his bandaged arm, looking up when, at midday, Andy comes in. The man sits beside him and Remington says, "Don't start with your lyrical bullshit, I'm not in the mood." 

Andy chuckles. "It's so good to see you, too. No, I was just coming to tell you I complained about that therapist, they're gonna monitor her other sessions for a week and get back to me on what they'll do next." 

"You did?" 

"Course, she shouldn't have a license if she speaks to anyone like that." 

Remington smiles. "Aww, he cares," he teases, prodding Andy's ribs. "Thanks, that's really nice of you. I appreciate it." 

"No worries, hon. Hey, you wanna watch a movie or something? I'll get my laptop." 

"Uh..." He sits up and stretches his arms out. "I think I need to get out the house." 

"Sure, we can go for a walk." 

"You're sweet when you care." 

"Shut up." He takes Remington's arm and straightens the bandage. "Maybe we should change this soon," he ponders. "How's it feeling?" 

"It's fine. Doesn't hurt."

"Good." 

"Mhm." 

"Alright, I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready." 

Remington looks at him and smiles. "I'm not going to therapy again," he decides. 

"Yes you are." 

"No thank you." 

"You need to and you know it." 

Remington groans. 

"I can't let you not get help. You need help." 

"Yes, but therapy isn't help." 

"No, that one therapist isn't help, and I'm sorry you went through that with her, but you still need help from a professional, and as much as I like having you around the house, I am not a professional." 

"No, and thank God for that." He pulls his knees up into his chest. "I just don't want to hear that again." 

Andy sighs. "I know, and you won't. She'll lose her license and you'll be given someone who actually wants to help you." 

"I don't have the mental capacity to deal with anything else." 

"I get that, I really do, but you can't put off all help ever just because of this one incident. You know you need help." 

"Yes, I need help, but who says therapy is even the right sort of help?" He huffs. "I appreciate that you want me to get better but I just don't think the help you think I need is the help I actually need. Anyway, I'm an adult, who says I even need professional help at all?" 

Furrowing his brows and shaking his head, Andy says, "In the nicest way possible, you cut your arm so much you nearly died. That is not something someone who doesn't need help would do." 

"So if you did it and I forced you to get help, would you be happy with it?" 

"I have been there, Remington. I used to drink all the time. So much I ended up nearly dying, too. I have had to accept the help of rehab and therapy and all of that. I know what you're going through and I sympathize with it and I'm sorry it's taken so long for anyone to care enough to push you into getting help, but just because you're scared of what you might hear isn't a reason to not get help." 

"Don't come at me with your  'I used to be a huge alcoholic cunt' crap, there are no similarities between that and what is happening to me, Andy, none! My brothers are dead, and before you bring up your son, you didn't know him. He was a baby, you didn't know shit about him! You hardly even met him before he died, it is not the same as growing up with two people, spending all your time with them, and then watching them get impaled with fucking pieces of car! Not the same!" 

"You know what, fuck you. I give up. I have tried to get through your bullshit, but you are so stubborn and selfish. Remington, you're so selfish." 

"Wha-Andy-" 

"I lost a son that I had planned to raise and love and hold and take to school and play games with and I will always regret not having that, Remington, always. That chance has gone now. I don't have a wife to have a baby with and that is something that makes me so sad, Remington. All I wanted for years was a wife and a child and to be a family with them, and now I can't have that. Can't you see how much it hurts me?" 

"It's just a baby, Andy!" 

"No! No, it's not! It's a person who I made! He was part of me! He was my future, and now what do I have? I want a family with someone, Remington. That's the real reason why we cannot be together. You can't give me what I want and I can't give you what you want and every time you say shit like you just said, you just prove it even more. So I'm done, and I mean it this time. I want someone who respects me and I hope you'd want the same. Get over yourself. Seriously, I'm sorry you're dealing with this, no one should have to deal with the death of loved ones, but you are such a selfish person and I can't be around you because you make me feel awful, Remington. You make me feel awful." 

Remington looks at him with teary eyes. "You don't mean that," he mumbles. 

"I do. I absolutely do. I thought if I helped you, you might start respecting me and caring about me, but you don't. You take and you take and you take, and I don't have anything for myself anymore. You're not the only one with issues and I'm sick of rejecting my own needs for you, when I get nothing in return. No thanks, no sign that you care about me too, nothing. You want to be with me because you're afraid of being alone, and that is not the same thing as wanting to be with me. I'm sorry, but I won't put myself through this anymore. You need to get help and I will pay for that because I don't believe money should stand in the way, but I will not continue to house you and cook for you and baby you, I just won't. I'm sorry. I want you to go home today." 

"Andy..." 

The man gets up, shakes his head, and leaves the room.