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If someone had asked Clay a few hours ago how housesitting was going, he would have said pretty damn well.
Sure, his best friend was out of town for a case, but he was over so often that coming back to Apollo’s after work was as natural as coming home. Mikeko missed her human (she wasn’t alone in that), but the cat had perked up when she realized that there would be someone around. It was just a few days, anyways, they’d survive.
Clay didn’t expect the nightmares to hit as hard as they did.
So now he was collapsed against the balcony railing, taking in shuddering gasps of cold night air. In truth, he couldn’t really remember how he had gotten there; he just remembered waking up.
Not being able to move.
Desperately untangling himself from whatever fucking thing was twisted around his limbs so that he could get up and slap at the light switch.
Hand hitting an empty stretch of wall and the light wasn’t there, it wasn’t there, why wasn’t it there, no no nonono.
He half-remembered the strangled yell that ripped itself from his throat, and the overwhelming need to get out because he didn’t want to die in the dark, he couldn’t, he couldn’t be back there again —
Something warm was dripping on his hands and nausea threatened to bring him to his knees as he forced his eyes open, though confusion managed to knock loose of the panic when he saw his hands weren’t stained red. It took a few more seconds for him to realize why his vision was so blurred.
Slowly, he released a hand from its white-knuckled grip around the railing to wipe at the tears streaming down his face.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m Clay Terran and I’m fine.”
...His chest hurt. Phantom pains laced sharply through every breath he could manage.
Slowly, so slowly, the night sky coaxed him back to his steady ground as he repeated the words over and over again. He hated how strained and broken his voice sounded even to himself. How he could feel the prickly burn of tears in his eyes again. How he was staring past the living room doorway because in his desperate attempt to get out, Clay had failed to actually turn on the hall light and all he could see was dark, dark, dark.
It took a couple more minutes of transfixed staring for it to even register it wasn’t even his living room. He was at Apollo’s; that must be why the light switch wasn’t where he had expected when he woke up. See? It was fine. But he knew where the switch in the hall was, it would only take a few seconds to cross through and turn it on. Either way, he had to go inside soon… If he left the balcony open for too long, then Mikeko could get out.
The astronaut took in a deep breath, his other hand only letting go of the railing after he fixed the Moon with one last look. One step into the apartment. Into Apollo’s apartment, a place he knew just about as well as his own. He was fine. He had locked the front door (once, twice, three times) before he went to bed, yet couldn’t help the way the silent doorway drew his eyes, the moonlight flooding through the open balcony door sending his own shadow spilling across the floor.
The shadows vanished as Clay went around the living room, freezing every time he heard a noise, not knowing if they were imagined or real as he switched on every lamp and carefully avoided looking down the dark hall. He was — Okay, okay, okay. His phone was still in the bedroom. He just had to get to the other end of the hall and call Apollo. He was fine.
That numb static was buzzing through his legs and fingertips as he finally, finally stood at the end of the hall.
Just three seconds. All he had to do was hit the light switch. Go.
He didn’t know what he had been trying to do. Maybe if he moved fast enough, he could catch his own fears off-guard before they could close in. Whatever his plan was, it failed as Clay stumbled on half-responding limbs, hand flying up to catch himself and —
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— the Hope Capsule crashed against the tiles of the Space Center floor as his fingers splayed to steady himself on the wall.
At least, he imagined it did. Between his helmet’s unresponsive radio snarling in his ear and the wail of the emergency sirens, he barely heard the crack of metal against linoleum; he swore as it rolled against the wall.
“C’mon Sol, work with me, buddy- ! ” Clay panted at the unconscious astronaut draped over his shoulder, who, of course, gave no indication he had heard him. Hell, he hadn’t reacted to a single part of the cacophony that seemed determined to render his junior partner completely deaf by the end of this. Shit, had he given him too much?
Couldn’t worry about that now.
Secure Starbuck. Secure the Capsule. Afterwards, he could worry, but right now he had a mission.
He didn’t waste breath cursing the techie who hadn’t bothered to design a fucking handle for the damn capsule as he shifted Starbuck’s weight to bend down and one-handedly fumbled it under his arm again. His internal tirade, however, might have made even Apollo raise an eyebrow. Though probably in amusement, knowing him. Clay huffed out a laugh, squinting against the sweat stinging his eyes. ‘Smug jackass.’
He might just leave out dropping the Hope Capsule when he recounted the story to Pollo… Not that that would keep it hidden for long: he had a knack for catching Clay in a corner.
“We’re almost there, Sol. We’re fine.”
He was pretty sure — positive, actually — that Apollo had picked up that something was up when Clay had said goodbye on their last call, but he couldn’t risk any details of the mission being leaked, not even to his best friend. Apollo hadn’t called him out on it though. He’d have to ask why.
“We’re fine. We’re fine.”
He’d make it up to him when he got back.
Clay had never been more grateful for the cool oxygen his spacesuit provided, somewhat easing the struggle to intake breath. His helmet was all that protected him from the smoke that choked the air, but they only needed to get to the other end of the hall. They were going to be fine. A short walk down the hallway, in a building he could navigate with his eyes closed? Easy.
Since Starbuck made no move to bypass the doorway security as they finally made their way towards it, and the Hope Capsule had yet to show off any sign of sentience, it was up to Clay to get them through the final hurdle. All he had to do was press —
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The light switch clicked under his fingers.
The light reluctantly flicked on above him.
He was fine.
He was fine.
He was Clay Terran, and he was fine.
The first inhale was sharp, and with each following breath that he tried and failed to make even, panic drew the vice tighter around his chest. He could barely feel the wall under his fingers. His hands were buzzing. His head was buzzing, the radio crackling on and on and on and it was all he could hear...
Hear.
What had Athena taught him? Grounding. It was for breathing. It was for when this happened. He just had to focus. Find five things. He could do that. ‘’Five things I can see…’ Clay opened his eyes slowly, staring up at the light as he blinked away the blur in his vision. ‘I can see the light... I can see the wall… The carpet… The bathroom door… The… plug? Wall socket. Four things I can hear. I can hear cars outside…’ It took a second before he could trust his voice, but clearing his throat helped. “I can- can hear my voice… And...” What was that? It sounded like a bell, but why would-? Mikeko. If Mikeko was nearby, then maybe…?
Clay whistled, long and low, and was rewarded with the distant jangle of a collar. The sound came closer until Mikeko padded around the corner of the hall, eyes wide in the low light. She meowed reproachfully at him when she saw that the whistler wasn’t the person she had hoped for. Still, given the way she insistently nudged his trembling fingers, she must have been willing to compromise.
A little bit of the tension released his shoulders at the sight of another living being. Thankfully, a scritch under the chin was all it took to convince Mikeko that his lap would make a suitable substitute for her human’s. Though she didn’t really get the chance to settle before Clay picked her up, cradling her against his chest as he leaned back against the wall. Mikeko gently headbutted his chin, her rumbling purrs against his chest giving him a point of focus.
“Okay.” He said out loud. Out loud was better. Filled up some of the quiet. “That’s three things. I can hear Mikeko purring for four. And I can touch Mikeko’s fur, a-and my t-shirt, and the wall.” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “Two things I can smell… My shampoo, and, uh…” Deep breath in, eyes closed to focus. “...And Trucy’s candles.” Trucy kept bringing Apollo candles. They practically multiplied every time he came over. Apollo kept the cinnamon ones on the bookshelf, he liked the cinnamon ones best. “One thing I can taste.” Now that it had been brought to his attention, his mouth definitely tasted like sleep. Ugh. “Not toothpaste anymore.”
For a few minutes, they stayed like that; Clay pacing his breaths and Mikeko bumping him when his fingers faltered in their steady strokes through her fur. He couldn’t help but raise an amused eyebrow at the calico. “You’re so needy, you know that?”
“Mrrr…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know… Thanks.”
Okay… It was easier to think from stable ground. He just needed to get back to Apollo’s room. His phone was there, so he could call Pollo. He was Clay Terran and he was fine.
With another slow intake, the astronaut put out a hand to the wall as he shakily got to his feet. There was only a brief hiccup as Clay let out a light hiss of pain, shooting a look at the kitty so innocently staring up at him as she dug her claws into his shoulder. “ Really?” Oh well. It was a small price to pay if she was going to let him carry her without fussing to get down.
“Are we going to turn on the lights, Keko?”
“Brrrp!”
“Yeah, we are!”
Really, it was only a short stride to the end of the hall. Clay swallowed down the sick fear lumping in his throat as they approached the half-open door. Beyond the illumination from the hallway, the room was dark. Mikeko must have felt him tense, because she gave a chirp and dug her claws further into his shoulder. The astronaut let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and gently lifted her paws so he could resecure her in a more comfortable position. “Sorry, Keko.” Her tail swished, but she must have held some mercy for him given she made no move to jump down. A relief, yes, but it didn’t stop Clay from glowering at the door. “Behind where the door closes is a stupid place for a light switch.”
Mikeko rumbled in agreement.
Welp. Nowhere to go but forward.
The door creaked as he crossed the threshold, all too happy to usher him into the hellscape of shadows beyond the reach of the light. But all he had to do was turn on the bedroom light. Ignore the shadows. Ignore the returned static crawling through his fingertips to pound at the base of his skull. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. He was fine.
In his stiff arms, Mikeko twisted impatiently to bap at his chin. Clay blinked down at her. Mikeko blinked back, nonplussed. “We’re going to turn on the light.” He mumbled. “Just gotta… turn on the light.”
The only escape route was blocked once Clay half-closed the door in order to reach the switch. But as it clicked under his fingers, the need for an escape route drained away under the flood of light revealing Apollo’s room just as he had left it. The comforter was hanging haphazardly off the bed from where he had torn it off in his panic. At the foot of the dresser, a pillow forlornly accepted its fate, corner reaching up and directing Clay’s numb gaze to one of the photographs framed on top of the dresser. His own face laughed up at him, arm-in-arm with Apollo.
Right. Apollo. He was going to call him.
Thankfully, his phone still slept on the bedside table, so it was only a matter of settling himself on the bed without dropping Mikeko. It didn’t seem to be as small a matter to her though if the way she fussily protested with a couple of flicks of her tail was any indication. By the fifth ring, she made her intentions to move very clear. Clay could feel his breath getting shorter with every ring. He still let her go. He tugged the comforter back up, bunching it in his arms in place of a clutched pillow. It was fine. Apollo was fine. He was probably just asleep. It would make sense, it was… He didn’t know. Dark outside. It was dark, but he was fine, it was all fine.
A robotic voice told to leave a message.
Clay dialed again.
‘C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.’
Halfway through the third ring, the bleary voice of Apollo Justice drifted over the line. “Hmuh?”
Clay opened his mouth to speak, but the flood of relief from hearing his best friend’s voice threatened to drown him. Fuck. Fuck.
“...Clay?” A shuffle, alertness snapping into his tone. “Are you alright? Can you hear me?”
He heard the jangle of her collar before he felt Mikeko lightly hop back onto the bed, settling warm and solid against his leg. Her fur was warm and soft under his fingers as he choked out a damp, “Y-yeah.”
“Breathe… Follow after me, alright? You’re fine.”
“‘Mfine. I’m fine.” Breathe. “I can- I can do that.”
“Yeah, you can. You’re Clay Terran and you’re fine. ”
Once again, the repetitive motion and the steady purring was grounding, allowing the astronaut to take in a deep breath and nod his head. It took a bit of convincing, but he managed to work himself up to a firm nod. “I’m Clay Terran and I’m fine. ”
“You’re fine!"
“I’m fine! I’m Clay Terran and I’m fine!”
Mikeko protested loudly as Clay brought his fist up determinedly to his chest, consequently stopping her petting. For a moment, he just stared down at the surprising amount of disapproval on the calico’s small face, and before he knew it, he was laughing. There was a stifled snort from Apollo’s end, which only made him laugh even harder, stray tears caught in his lashes obscuring his vision. As the laughter died down to breathy chuckles, Apollo spoke up again. He was trying, he really was, but Clay could hear the worry bleeding into his tone. “You’re fine… But… are you okay?”
A sleepy chirp sounded from beside him, the calico’s face pressing into the palm of Clay’s hand now that he had returned to petting her. It didn’t take much to coax that affectionate smile out of him, but really, there was only one real answer now. “Yeah… Kind of a rough start, but Keko helped me with the lights.”
“Did she now?”
“She’s a smart girl, Pollo.”
”That was never in question.” sighed Apollo exasperatedly. “I had to shut her treats in the fridge because she figured out how to climb up into the cupboard.”
“Your girl’s gonna go places!”
“Yeah, like the cupboard.”
His smile slipped as he caught sight of the glowing 3:17am of the alarm clock perched on top of the dresser, a curse slipping out between his lips. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up so - ”
“Clay.”
That shut him up quick. Clay could recognize that anywhere, so full of conviction that it held no room for argument.
“You don’t need to worry about waking me up; if you need me, then I want you to call me. Besides, how many times have I called you at stupid o’clock in the morning because of nightmares?”
“...More than a few.”
“And how many times have you turned me away?” Apollo didn’t wait for him to answer; they both knew he never had. As he continued, that firm tone softened. “You don’t have to apologize. Anything I can do to help.”
Now Clay’s eyes were prickling for a reason other than panic. He breathed out a soft laugh, swiping his arm across his face. He would have thought that he’d be used to Apollo’s fervent protectiveness after all these years, yet he always managed to catch him off-guard. In a good way though... In the best way. “....Thanks, Pollo.”
“It’s no problem. How are you holding up?”
“Keko and I’ll probably watch an episode or two of Star Trek and then try and get back to sleep.” Clay cut off the protest before Apollo could make it. “I’m fine , Pollo, and I promise I’ll call if that changes, okay?”
“...You make a stro-” The lawyer cut off his reluctant agreement with a jaw-cracking yawn, sounding distinctly ruffled afterwards. “You make a strong argument. Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything, Pols~” But Apollo didn’t need to see his face to know he was grinning. “Go to bed.”
“Fine. I’ll call you in the morning?”
“Dude, you always call way too early.”
“I’d hardly call 11am early, Terran.”
“And I’d hardly call myself a morning person; I’ll call you.”
“Deal.”
Clay was narrowly able to fish the pillow back from it’s resting place by the dresser, holding his phone between his shoulder and ear as he swiped at the edge of the pillowcase. “Get some sleep, yeah? I’ll give Keko love for you.”
“Pfft, it’s appreciated. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Clay.”
And with those parting words, the line went dead. Mikeko chirped curiously as Clay resettled with the newly-reclaimed pillow, rolling over in the hopes that he would abandon that task in favour of fluffing her tummy. He did exactly that without a moment’s hesitation, accompanying it with a soft kiss to her forehead. “And that’s from Pollo. He sends his love, kiddo.”
They had barely made it halfway through the episode before Mikeko’s purring drifted into the soft, even breathing of sleep. To his own surprise, Clay wasn’t too far behind her. With his phone’s volume so low, the zap of phasers had softened into a background buzz that only added to Clay’s contentment. The astronaut hummed sleepily as he buried his face further into the pillow, sluggishly registering the familiar scent of Apollo’s hairgel. The calico had claimed the other half of his pillow despite another perfectly fluffy one right beside her, but they were both too comfortable for Clay to contest this. Instead, he used what little of his brain that hadn’t disengaged to fluff her fur one last time.
“Night Keko, sleep well.”