Chapter Text
"Guys, check this out." Patty holds out her tablet. "It's disgusting." Erin and Abby bend their heads over the tablet and scan the article. It's by a conversion therapy survivor; it's about Trump. Erin pulls away fast.
"I wish we could change it," Abby sighs.
Holtzmann hops down the stairs at this point, and Patty beckons her over. "Holtz, look at this." Holtzmann obligingly takes the tablet and scans the article. Her mouth opens a little and she begins reading in earnest. Patty nods when she gasps. "It's horrible, right?"
Holtzmann swallows and hands the tablet back. "I have work to do," she says robotically and then she's gone, back up the stairs.
"That was weird," Abby says, shrugging. Erin agrees and then sits down at her desk to begin working through some of the paperwork Jennifer has sent them.
***
Holtzmann feels sick to her stomach. She can't stop thinking about the article; certain lines playing in her mind on repeat.
When Erin comes up to ask her something, she has to focus all her attention on seeming normal; she doesn't want the others to know how much it affected her. Erin buys it. Holtzmann's used to hiding things, after all, and Erin doesn't know her the way Abby does.
Maybe she's just sick. That would explain it. She has to rush to the bathroom twice with an upset stomach. She firmly shoves away all thoughts about the article and conversion therapy and Trump, because every time she thinks about it she can't breathe.
"'Night, Holtz!" Patty calls out as she climbs the stairs to their rooms. Erin and Abby follow less than half an hour later, and then Holtzmann's alone. It's too much for her, feels like being in solitary confinement, her skin is itching with loneliness.
Eventually she works herself enough to get to bed, but that doesn't make her feel any better. She shivers under the covers, alternately hot and cold, unable to stop the images of queer youth getting thumped with Bibles, getting dragged away against their will-
She forces herself to think about something else for a moment's respite, gulping down air. Her breathing gets shallower and shallower until she's gasping for breath, feeling like she's going to pass out. Her hands are shaking and she feels nausea roll over her. She doesn't know what's happening, but it's not good.
When it feels like she might actually vomit, she wobbles her way to the bathroom, the harsh light stinging her eyes. She retches over the sink, but nothing comes up. Her eyes are running with hot tears and she can hardly breathe and she just wants it all to go away. She sobs, once, softly she thinks.
"Are you okay?" There's a light knock on the door. It's Erin.
"Peachy," Holtz tries to say, but instead she chokes again. She tries again, but she can't say anything.
"I'm coming in. Don't be naked, please," Erin warns her, and Holtz tries to shout no, but nothing's cooperating. The door swinging open is distant and she suddenly loses her grip on the bench and slides to the ground. Strong arms catch her and help her stay upright.
"Are you sick?"
Holtzmann tries to shrug, is hit with another wave of nausea, and turns towards the sink. She retches and nothing comes up again. She leans against the mirror, hiding her face from Erin. She doesn't want anyone to see her like this, let alone Erin.
"Can't breathe," she manages to whisper.
"Panic attack?" Erin muses, patting her back. "Can you take some deep breaths for me, Holtzy? One, two, three, four," she says clearly. "Look at me. Focus on me. That's good."
Holtzmann's chest is still heaving, but she doesn't feel like she's going to faint any more. Erin nods encouragingly.
"That's the spirit. One more deep breath? That's good, Holtzy."
Holtzmann collapses against Erin, burying her face in her shoulder, desperate for something solid to hold onto. Erin squeezes her gently. "Oh, Holtzy," she says with the utmost sympathy. "It's not fun, huh?"
Holtz shakes her head pitifully.
"Shall we get you back to bed?" Erin traces a line on her cheek with a gentle finger.
Holtz shakes her head furiously. It's just going to happen again if she has to sit in that dark room all alone again. "Gonna-" her voice rasps and she winces. "Invent. In the lab. I'm fine I'm okay don't worry-" she chokes and starts crying again, ashamed of her weakness.
"Hey, don't freak out, I'm not gonna make you do anything," Erin says. "You need to get some sleep, Holtz."
"Can't go back to my room," Holtzmann says, trembling. She doesn't want to seem weak in front of Erin, but the thought of being alone again makes her want to scream.
"I won't make you," Erin reassures her, rocking until she calms down again. "Sleep in my room?"
Holtzmann pauses. She doesn't want to annoy Erin. Erin raises an eyebrow, and then Holtz nods, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears.
Erin takes a washcloth and dabs it over Holtzmann's face to rinse away the sweat and tears and snot. It's soothing. Holtzmann closes her eyes, relaxing under the pressure.
After she's done, Erin presses a gentle kiss to Holtz's forehead. Holtz's eyes open in shock before Erin turns away and leads the way to her bedroom.
She's uncertain, hovering in the doorway of Erin's room. Erin beckons her over to the bed with a kind smile, gesturing for her to shut the door.
"I don't know what you feel like, but I can sit up with you if you want, or we can both sleep, or we can cuddle." Erin's eyes are wide and serious, not a hint of mocking in them.
Holtzmann hesitates for a few seconds before cautiously climbing into bed and cuddling up against Erin. Erin automatically tucks an arm under Holtz's head, and they end up spooning. Holtz feels oddly floaty and sort of unreal.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Holtz. I have panic attacks all the time."
Holtzmann half shrugs. She knows that. But still it feels wrong. She's not a weak person. Neither is Erin. But it's different.
"Do you want to talk about it?" The cautiousness of the question stalls her. She doesn't have to answer. Erin wouldn't be mad.
She wants to tell Erin how it was really nothing and she's probably just a bit sick, really, she's had a weird stomach all day, but instead, she breathes out, "Trump."
"The article Patty showed us?" Erin asks softly. Her hand begins rubbing Holtzmann's back.
Holtz nods, the thought bringing tears to her eyes.
"Oh, Holtzy," Erin says for a second time, pulling her into a tight hug. "I know it's horrible."
"I've been trying not to think about it, but I just- I couldn't stop. It was running around my mind."
"You're safe now."
Holtz rolls the words around in her mind, unsure whether she believes them or not.
"C'mon, let's try to get some sleep." Erin watches Holtzmann intently, like she's trying to read her mind.
Holtzmann squeezes her eyes shut. She doesn't want to bother Erin, she doesn't want Erin to be mad at her, but she's scared that Erin will fall asleep and leave her all alone. She clings a little more tightly as her heart thumps, and Erin lets out a little half-sigh, absent-mindedly stroking her hair.
It's quiet for a few moments, and then Erin rolls over. Holtzmann tries to follow, ending up with her arm over Erin's back. It's not comfortable, but it is contact.
"You're not going to sleep, are you?" Erin groans. She doesn't sound upset, but they never do, do they?
"I'm sorry, I'll be quiet…" Holtzmann pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling suddenly guilty about keeping Erin awake, sad that she's such a selfish person, confused – why can't you just be normal, Holtz? A few tears leak from the corners of her eyes.
Erin rolls over to face her again, looking alarmed at the tears. "No, Holtzy, I'm not mad. It's okay." She reaches over and rubs Holtz's upper arm tentatively. "Jeez, you're really not yourself, what is it?"
Erin's only trying to help, but something in Holtz snaps at the judgmental question. She knows that wasn't what Erin meant to get across, but it tumbles out of her mouth anyway. "I'm sorry that I can't be perfect all the time and I just had a panic attack and I'm not okay, alright? I'm sorry, I'll just-" She's not crying, she tells herself, ignoring the hot tears on her cheeks. She tries to stand up so she can leave Erin in peace, but her limbs aren't quite co-operating. She half-stumbles as she gets up and sits down on the bed, letting herself cry into her open palms.
"Shit," Erin says. "Okay." She reaches out automatically, then pulls back when Holtzmann shrinks away. They sit, frozen, for a moment. "I'm not mad, I'm just trying to understand. Please, Jill? Let me help you. I'm not trying to upset you. Please, let me help you, Jilly." Her voice breaks a little at the end.
It's the use of her first name that does it, that breaks her. "Sorry," Holtzmann whispers, feeling guilty and sick and too many things to think about.
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. It's totally fine if you can't sleep. Everything you're feeling is valid and right," Erin says softly, holding Holtz's eyes with her own. "I'm serious. Nothing you do right now will make me leave you alone. Don't be scared."
Erin's caring words are making her teary again. She didn't even know she could cry this much.
"Do you want to talk about what set this off?" Erin waits patiently for Holtzmann to string some words together.
Holtz gives a slow nod in response, trying to figure out how to explain it to Erin. It's too hard to say, that it's not just a story for me, and it makes it too hard to forget and I'm so scared, but somehow Erin figures it out. Her eyes flicker away from Holtzmann's for a second, putting together the jumpiness and the mood swings and the panic attack over an article that everyone else brushed off.
"You…?" she whispers. "Conversion therapy?"
Holtzmann half-shrugs, half-nods, unable to meet her eyes.
"Oh." Erin rubs a hand over her face. "I'm so sorry, Holtz." It's not enough but it's just enough.
They lie together for what seems like an age before Holtzmann gathers her words together, finally feeling a little calmer after sharing her secret. "Erin?" she whispers.
"Mmm?" Erin's voice is soft and sleepy, but not asleep.
"I really am sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night like this."
"It's fine, Jilly, really. Do you want to listen to a meditation? It might help you get off to sleep. Or at least give you something to focus on." Erin is nothing but concerned and there's nothing but love in her eyes, and it hurts. Holtzmann nods against the crook of her arm.
Erin kisses her cheek. "Give me a second, okay?"