Work Text:
Social settings and social events were not something I would usually willingly attend. Since childhood, events with large crowds or too much action sent my heart tumbling and my head spinning in an anxious mess. I didn't have words to describe why I felt such discomfort and unease. In all reality, I wished that I could throw myself out there and live in the roar and excitement of crowds and big congested events. To be a raging extrovert. To live without such ridiculous fears. But alas, I was anything but.
Crowds made me anxious, talking over the phone, ordering food, paying a cashier, confrontation all make me uncomfortable. Like a cornered animal, if I become too stressed, overwhelmed with the things around me or perhaps things just building up, I snap. In fancy 'sciency' words- my flight or fight response is pulled into action and every time I panic. I have an all out anxiety or panic attack. And I hate it. It's stupid. I don't know why I react like this, I don't know why my brain can't just allow me to be a normal person. I don't know why my brain thinks that people are judging me, laughing at me rather than the joke that was just said. Maybe I have an embarrassing stain on my clothes? Do I look okay? Am I unattractive? Do people talk about me later? I can't control such a wild thought process except for bottling it up and storing it in the deepest, darkest part of my mind to collect bouts of dust.
But here I stand, in the middle of a buzzing market with hundreds of people and aliens milling around the Doctor and me. Already I was uncomfortable with the idea, my brain jumping to silly, unreasonable thoughts every few seconds. My heart races on and off, testing my self-control. However, my curiosity of the foreign planet kept me shouldering through the crowd, that and I didn't want to be left behind.
Traveling with the Doctor has been a pleasant challenge. He has been pulling me away from my tiny comfort zone and into a wild journey of pushing boundaries. Whether he knows he's doing it or not, I do not know. My fondness for the lone doctor grows each day I am his companion, and so I intend to try new things and further explore such feelings. So far, he's been the only one able to push me this far. Willingly.
"Oh Y/N," the Doctor turns abruptly in the churning crowd to face me, his doe-brown eyes glimmering with excitement. His lips are pulled into a wide grin, his hands raised and moving as he talks over the chatty crowd. "You've got to try the 'Drez', it's the best drink on this whole planet and you'll thank me later."
"What is the 'Drez' even made of?" I ask, crossing my arms in front of me as if to seem confident, maybe even a tad bit sassy. Truthfully though, unease has set into my heart, gnawing at my chest and of course, I couldn't pinpoint the reason for me to feel such anxiety. Maybe it's just the crowd? Maybe it's too loud? Maybe I am just excited? Usually, there was no reason which was very infuriating.
"You won't try it if I tell you what's in it," the Doctor's eyes are still hopeful as he grins. I roll my eyes.
"Well, that's reassuring," I scoff. The Doctor shrugs and begins to make his way through the crowd, silently beckoning me towards him. But of course, I wouldn't refuse him, even if the drink was weird or could possibly make me grow a third arm or something. I want to keep up with his excited mannerisms and chipper attitude. The Doctor swerves around a bunch of people, and for a second he disappears into the crowd. My stomach drops and my heart skips a beat. I take a deep breath, shaking my head gently. He is right in front of me. It's fine. I'm fine. In seconds the Doctor's head pops up around the corner, waving me to him. I sigh in relief.
See? I'm fine.
I push my way through the crowd to the Doctor once again. He turns to say something but I can't hear what he has to say because the crowd bursts into a roar of laughter and chanting. I simply smile and nod, hoping he didn't ask a question. The Doctor keeps talking, his face twisting into various expressions and his arms flailing about happily. He looks like he's explaining something, lost in verbal thought. He is hurrying along, walking with a purpose, fast and calculated. I nearly struggle to keep up with him. I look away from him for a split second as the crowd roars again, laughter.
When I draw my attention back to the Doctor he was gone. No rugged beige trenchcoat, no messy brown hair- no Doctor in sight. I freeze, planting my feet as I frantically glance about, attempting to locate the man. I fail miserably, however, as my height and the height of others around me clouds my own view. The anxious whirlwind inside of me creeps up my chest in seconds, no longer contained.
I am fine. I breathe out of my nose slowly, attempting to calm myself but my pulse and breaths only quicken. The mix of aliens and people shift as if moving in a line, pushing me to and fro until I feel like I have been swallowed by the crowd. I mean to yell for the Doctor, to call his name or attempt to find higher ground to find the man. But I can't. I am stuck in silent fear, my shaky voice yelling out only to echo in my head- never reaching my mouth.
The churning crowd thickens until I am being pushed, my shoulders jerking forward as they walk by. I can only shuffle about with them, fear stabbing at my chest, making it hard to breathe. Suddenly, I am pushed again, sending me flailing to the ground into a clearing. I desperately crawl on my hands and knees to safety, pressing my back against a rough concrete wall. I draw my knees to my chest and tighten my clammy hands together. The anxiety has not eased, its presence made known as my heart thunders in my chest, threating to break ribs and spill onto the floor. My whole body is a shaking mess and my breaths are quickened and uneven.
I'm fine. I am fine. I. Am. Fine. I am not on a foreign planet millions of light years away from my own earth alone and lost without a single inkling of what I should do next. Oh. and I am not being corned by hundreds of aliens with weird eyes and blurting out guttural noises and words.
As it turns out, I don't believe myself. Shocker.
A human-like figure approaches me and begins speaking gibberish, hissing and shooing me away. I can only scramble away from the once safe area and around other corners as his brows furrow and he continues to grumble on in an unfamiliar language. Apparently, I was in his 'spot'.
I shuffle away, letting my feet carry me further and further until I meet another wall, buried away and secluded. I collapse against the wall, clutching my chest and gasping for breath. I can hear the echo of past therapists and friends telling me to calm down, to breathe. Easier said than done.
I attempt to keep myself distracted, fidgeting with my hands, blinking several times, digging my nails into my palms, humming. Anything. Anything to help get a grasp on where I was.
I am fine! I choke out a cry. I want to be fine, I don't want to have panic attacks in the middle of crowds for no stupid reason. I am angry with myself as my breaths continue to shake. It's as if a boulder sits heavy on my chest as hot, angry tears stream down my cheeks. I scrunch myself against the wall more, attempting to fade away into nothing. To feel nothing.
But I cannot do that. I cannot dematerialize and end up somewhere else like the dear TARDIS as I so longed to. Several aliens and humans alike pass by, their odd shapes and figures easily passing me without a second glance. Either I am well hidden or they don't care.
Maybe they do see me.
A pair of human-like figures pass by, their long glossy hair matching the color of their plump lustrous lips. Their lips turn into a synchronized smile. A smirk? My heart pumps faster if that's even remotely possible.
They are laughing at me. They saw my ugly cry, snot bubbling out of my nose and my eyes red and puffy like a drunk rabbit on cocaine. They are talking about me. They're going to get more people, tell more people.
My mind frantically jumps to each horrible conclusion and I bury my face in my knees. I feel my shoulders shaking as I cry, unable to contain my unreasonable anxiety.
Suddenly, warm hands are on my shoulders, a tight grip but a concerned one.
"Y/N?" a familiar voice asks, his voice soft and troubled. "Oh, Y/N," the Doctor breathes out, bringing me to his chest. I don't object, letting him pull me in as I draw my face away from my knees, just enough to bury my face in his shoulder. I didn't ever want him to see me like this; an uncontrolled mess of stupid anxiety and raging emotions. And all because of what? A crowd? Losing the Doctor for ten minutes? It's pathetic. I hate it.
I mean to say sorry, to tell the Doctor why I had reacted in such a way but I couldn't even pinpoint my own thoughts. Why had I reacted this way? I gasp out a breath, that being the only thing close to words I can create at the moment. The Doctor's arms tighten around me, his chin resting on my head. He begins to trace gentle circles and lines onto my back, an incredibly soothing action. Part of me wonders if it's Gallifreyan... or maybe it was only shapes and figures left to his imagination. With my head against his chest, even over my gasping, messy cries, I can hear the Doctor's, steady heartbeats, a gentle cascade of beats echoing in my head. I focus on the sound, a gentle anchor to the present along with his gentle tracing against my heaving back.
"Hush," he whispers, carefully patting my head as he began to rock me back and forth ever so slightly. I sniffle once more, breathing in his musk- masculine but not overpowering, familiar like home, but yet so different. "I'm so so sorry, I was so distracted I didn't realize you'd been swept away." The Doctor's voice cracks to my utter surprise. It's as if seeing me hurt, hurt his hearts as well. "I almost lost you," he says gently. I regain myself enough to be able to pull myself away from him.
"You lost me?" I scoff, a nervous chuckle falling from my lips. "I lost you and I got scared and I don't even know what galaxy I am in-"
"Hey, hey, breathe," the Doctor cuts in, extending his arms once again. I hadn't realized that my breaths were increased again and I began to feel slightly dizzy. "One, two, three-" the Doctor counted slowly, breathing in and out. I mirrored his actions and eventually, his arms were not gripping my shoulders nearly as tight as before. He sat opposite of me, his chocolate brown eyes watery with concern but comforting all the same.
"I didn't really want you to see me like this," I sigh, my breathing returning to a normal rhythm. The Doctor remains silent, understanding that I just need to talk. To be heard.
"I've been like this since... forever." I laugh dryly and the Doctor frowns, his brows tightening into concern. "I just get anxious with crowds and then I get all unreasonable and I just-" I can't finish the sentence. My breath hangs in the air like a ball and chain.
"Burst." the Doctor finishes the sentence for me, his voice shallow and quiet.
"Burst," I confirm, nodding my head slowly. The Doctor begins to reach for my trembling hands, looking up at me as if to ask permission. I give him a curt nod and his warm, slender hands engulf mine. An immediate comfort washes over me, like a soft blanket fresh from the dryer on a winter day. My shoulders drop, relaxing. My mind quickly follows, the static and confusion from before washed away and replaced by a blissful silence. Thoughts simply float on my mind, not disturbing me. I look to the Doctor who's eyes are sorrowful but his expression dusted with hope. I give him a small smile of relief.
"I am sorry you're affected like this," the Doctor speaks softly. "I wish I could take it away from you." His hands cup the sides of my face, gently rubbing soft circles with his thumb. His expression breaks, a mixture of pain, sorrow, worry, and concern muddled into deep crevices on his skin.
"Y/N, darling," he breathes out. "I so am sorry," the Doctor leans forward, resting his head against my forehead. His messy chestnut-colored hair tickling the front part of my head. Perhaps the Doctor was really feeling my pain, perhaps he was simply this sympathetic, or maybe he had experienced something like it before, I really hoped not for it was a horrible feeling and experience.
I take the Doctor's hands which are still gently holding the sides of my face. I cherish the moment, even though what had just occurred was quite traumatizing and terrifying. The Doctor had been able to calm me in mere minutes. I felt safe once more, in his arms.
"Let's go home," I whisper and only then does the Doctor begin to move, reluctantly pulling away from me.
"Home," he nods his head. He helps me stand up, reaching his hand out for me to take. After I have hoisted myself up, his grip does not falter and I do not draw my clammy hands from his. A silent, mutual comfort. His grip tightens, drawing me closer to his tall frame as we work our way through the crowd once more. I hook my arm completely around his arm, my heart beat only fluttering a second as he squeezes my hand in reassurance.
Within a few steps, we arrive back at the TARDIS, hand in hand, neither of us daring to let go of one another. In fear of losing each other. The Doctor's melted chocolate eyes flick to mine, the ghost of a smile on his pale lips. I squeeze his hand once.
And he squeezes back.
