Work Text:
mae is so afraid, so afraid so much of the time, so numb and fuzzy and tired and scared.
there's this creeping numbness, this static in her heart and in her legs and in her face and in her words and in her mind and body and spirit -- there's this fuzziness that never quite goes away, that intensifies and grows until it eats up the world around her and in her heart all she can feel is nothing. a cold apathy, chilling her stomach and blacking her vision into nothing but grains. she can't feel the feels, she can't hold onto anything because everything just turns to dust in her paws, no happiness will last and she will be left to turn in static, the wheels turning in her brain.
but then there's a paw beside hers, one that's golden and friendly and worried. and then there's another, one that's scaly and protective and cold yet comforting. and then there's one that's bigger than the rest, but safe and warm and wise. and they're all warm, all the hands joining around her, anchoring her down, away from the static and into home.
home. mae is home, she notes blearily, the world making sense and falling into the correct pieces by now. these hands that now hold her single paw, a fire to fight away the fuzzy, is home. these people are home.
and as long as she's home, she drawls softly, a smile painting on her face; as long as she is home, she is safe. and, most importantly, she has something to hold onto; something that won't turn to shapes.