Work Text:
Everything was loud.
Your ears were flat against your head but they were still ringing. Why were they ringing? They shouldn’t be ringing! They were ringing! It felt like the noises around you had somehow become sentient. They were clawing, clawing, clawing. Scratching at your fur and tearing at the sensitive appendages on top of your head.
Everything was loud.
It was too loud.
Scratching. Scratching. Scratching.
You choked back a sob and curled in on yourself. Your hands had somehow ended up on top of your ears, pressing them further against your skull. Your fingers curled into them, your nails pressing sharply and digging into the skin.
It was still too loud.
Loud. Loud. Loud. Loud.
Somewhere in the far part of your brain, you knew it wasn’t really loud. It was actually pretty quiet in the hotel. But then why was it so loud ? You could hear everything. Every little sound sounded like someone was clanging two pots right by your already sensitive ears. The pen that Charlie was using was digging ravines into the wooden receptionist desk. The clock’s ticking was a blaring alarm. The mouse scuttling in the corner was actually trying to claw your ears off. You knew it was, you could feel it digging into your skin!
Clawing and scratching. Clawing and scratching.
You tried to steady your breathing, but it felt like all the oxygen was being sucked out of your chest by some invisible force. If you breathed any slower you would suffocate!
You suddenly felt extremely vulnerable on the couch in the main room. Something bad was going to happen. Something bad was happening! Or had it already happened? Something bad, bad, bad, bad-
You quickly uncurled from around yourself and ran into the corner of the room, sliding down the walls on to the floor and curling up again. You pressed your back as far into the wall as it would go.
Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger.
You were vaguely aware of the tears streaming down your face and soaking into the fabric around your knees. You couldn’t breathe. You needed to breathe! You were gasping for air and yet failing to get any. Your heart was pounding.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
You gave up on trying to keep your breathing steady without even realizing it. The thought was lost in the back of your head with the millions of others, being submerged in the details of everything around you. Your brain was quickly cataloging everything. The carpet was scratching against your skin.
Scratching. Scratching. Scratching.
Your mouth was dry. You tried to swallow between your quick breaths but couldn’t. You shake your head, still resting firmly on you legs.You wanted to scream. Why would you try to even do that? You needed to breathe! Where did all the oxygen in the room go? Needed to breathe.
You tried to press further into the corner but found that you couldn’t. You were overtaken with the sudden urge to bite something. Your teeth gnawed at the air for a few seconds, before you quickly brought one of your hands down and shoved it into your mouth. You bit into your fingers repeatedly. You knew you shouldn’t do that. You were hurting yourself. It was bad. But everything was bad.
Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.
It hurt but it didn’t hurt. Did it hurt? It hurt. It hurt but that was okay. You needed to bite. It was somewhat grounding. Need to bite.
Bite. Bite. Bite. Bite.
Your hands and feet were starting to tingle. Why were they tingling? They tingle when you hyperventilate. Were you hyperventilating? You were hyperventilating. When did that start? Your vision was getting blurry and your head was spinning. You were starting to feel dizzy. You curled into yourself more and squeezed your eyes tighter.
Bite. Bite. Bite. Bite.
“Come now, darling. Let's not hurt ourselves shall we?”
You flinched at the new sound and squeezed the side of your head into you neck. You felt a hand gently take yours and lower it away from your mouth. Your teeth wanted to bite. You chewed nothing for a few seconds before trying to put your hand back into your mouth. Once again, a hand lowered yours, preventing you from biting it. Your scattered brain was at a loss for what to do.
“I’m afraid no good will come of that, love.”
You flinched at the voice again, who seemed to take notice as the next time he spoke was significantly softer.
“My apologies. Is there perhaps a reason for your current state?”
The air around you seemed to fill with a static that tickled your fur. It was surprisingly comforting, and you were able to identify the voice at long last despite your current condition. Did you have a reason? You weren’t really sure. It was just loud and...bad. Everything was bad. It wasn’t safe.
Alastor waited patiently for an answer, and when you didn’t give one, simply settled down next to you. He lightly pressed into your side and slid an arm around your shoulders. Before you knew what you were doing, you fell into his side, limply like a ragdoll.
The space around you suddenly seemed very quiet, though you didn’t dare open your eyes. A hand was gently combing through your hair and a pleasant warmth was coming from the body next to you. You nuzzled your head into red Alastor’s suit and tried to breathe in.
“Remember the four seven eight rule darling.” Alastor’s voice seemed to be barely a whisper, radio static with it.
You practiced the technique, trying to slow yourself down. You tried to time it with the steady rise and fall of his chest.
In four. Hold seven. Out eight. In four. Hold seven. Out eight.
The tingling in your hands was starting to fade.
In four. Hold seven. Out eight. In four. Hold seven. Out eight.
“Your doing great, darling.”
In four. Hold seven. Out eight. In four. Hold seven. Out eight.
You still felt dizzy, but your breathing was starting to slow. The urge to utterly decimate your hand had subsided. You wrapped your arms around Alastor and gripped him tighter, burying your head further into his chest. You could hear a heartbeat but it was no longer your own.
Thump. Thump.Thump.Thump.
You breathed in again.
In four. Hold seven. Out eight. In four. Hold seven. Out eight.
You inhaled deeply. He smelt like a pleasant campfire, warm and inviting. The hand was still brushing through your hair. Alastor started to quietly hum. You felt the vibrations traveling through his chest and into your arms. The blaring danger signals in your brain were slowly but surely turning off. This was safe. You were safe. Alastor was safe.
As you came out of your panic, the familiar tiredness washed over you. It was the same tiredness that always visited after your attacks. The type of tiredness that crept into your bones and stayed there for the rest of the day, making you feel hollow and just...well...tired.
That was fine. You were fine. This was fine. It was warm and safe here. Alastor was here. He made the bad go away.
____________________________________________________________________________
Alastor was never the best at being a comforting person, but once he met Y/n he had to be.
The panic attacks in all honesty terrified him. He was always worried about Y/n well being of course, but when they were in this state his concern rose a tremendous amount. He had noticed their tendency to pull on their hair and bite at their hands and basically every other destructive thing he could think of after the first few attacks. After some practice Alastor thought he had the gist of what to do figured out. He always blocked out the sounds, using his powers to build an almost safe room out of the shadows.
By now Y/n had fallen asleep against his chest, and to his relief was breathing slowly and normally. They were always tired after the ordeal. Alastor could only imagine what it must be like to be in the thick of it. It didn’t seem very pleasant. He knew they would be tired for the rest of the day, and he would have his hands full making sure Y/n took care of themself. Alastor didn’t mind in the slightest, as long as they were okay.
Alastor continued to hum and stroked Y/n’s head. He knew that they wouldn’t feel rested even after they woke up, but he wasn’t going to disturb them from the sleep they desperately needed regardless. He looked down lovingly at Y/n and planted a light kiss on their forehead. He was going to be there for awhile, but that was alright with him.