Work Text:
TW: Panic attack, cussing, mentions of vomiting
Virgil took a shaky and shallow breath, knuckles white as he gripped the counter. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck, Fuck!
Why there? Why then? Oh right, because his brain fucking hated him!
He tried to remember what Dr. Picani said- deep breathes, in and out, in and out, in and-
Ugh, this wasn’t working! He couldn’t- he couldn’t take the stupid breath!
He tried to move his hands, but they stayed firmly gripping the table. Why did he think it was a good idea to close for Remy? Why? Why? Why?
He grabbed his phone, hands shaking far more than normal. He fumbled with it, finally getting it to unlock.
He saw the phone icon and pressed immediately, definitely too hard for his finger to take without hurting.
He just clicked the most recent person- who did he call last?
Ring
His breaths were shallow, why was breathing so hard?
Ring
He did it for seventeen years and he can do it now, right? Right?
Ring
Oh god, he couldn’t breath, he was gonna die here and someone would think he was murdered but he really just had a stupid panic attack and couldn’t breath-
Ri-
“Hello?”
Person, person answered- good, that was good-
“I-I- who-“ he tried to form a question through his tears, when did he start crying? It didn’t matter, he let out a sob and broke off his question.
“Nightmare? It’s Roman- Kingsley, remember me?”
“Fuck- shit- not you- a-anyone but you- anyone but you- I-I need-“
“You need-?” Roman prompted, all of his usual laidback tone replaced by something more serious.
“Not you- fuck- give- give it- g-give the phone- give- fuck-“
“Virgil, hang on, just tell me where you are-“
Where was he? He looked around, seeing legs of tables and chairs, and looked down, floor- that’s a floor.
“Floor- wait- n-no yeah- floor-“
“Can you be more specific for me? Are you at your house, maybe Patton’s?” After a couple beats Roman realized where Virgil worked. “The pretzel shop?”
Virgil nodded harshly, hurting his neck. “Y-yeah- yeah- that’s it- that’s where I am- f-forgot for a second- it’s fine- I-I’m fine-“
“Okay, thank you, I’m coming to get you- can you stay on the phone with me?”
Virgil looked around, knees curled to his chest. He was alone, right? Right?
“I-I- I can-“
A few minutes of shallow breaths, sobs, and the sounds of cars went by.
The sound of a car door closing made Virgil flinch, “W-what was- what was t-that?”
“It was just my car, Vee, now- you said you were on the floor, can you tell me what color it is?”
“I- I-“
“Okay-“ he mumbled. “New plan, uhhh- oh, tell me how annoying I am, really pack the punch- don’t hold back.”
Virgil barely responded, a ghost of a snort making its way out of his throat.
“That’s- better, uh- shit, I’ll be there in a couple minutes. Okay? Just think about-“ Roman cut himself off with an audible huff, but if it would help Virgil- “Think about when I completely bombed that performance, remember? I fell off the bleachers- c’mon, you love bringing that up”
Virgil gave a snort-like breath as a response, almost like normal.
“Okay, okay, that’s even better- Who’s your least favorite teacher?”
No response.
“C’mon, I know you have one.”
Virgil’s voice was breathy, he put all his effort into talking but it still sounded so- not there.
“3D A-art-“
“Mrs. Carol? She’s so pretentious, right?”
Virgil gave a small, quiet, breathy chuckle. “So pretentious.”
“What about Mr. Harrison, history?”
“He’s- he’s bad.” It was all he could get out. None of his usual snark and sarcasm.
Virgil’s stomach churned, his vision spotty. Oh god, oh god he was gonna throw up. Roman was gonna get here and he’d be covered in a puddle of vomit and be made fun of- damnit why didn’t he hang up?
Before either of them realized, the phone was hung up and Roman was rushing into the dark shop. He looked around for Virgil, seeing his curled up form.
He looked so- small. Especially in comparison to his usual tough-guy act.
“Can I touch you, Virgil?” He asked, voice softer than ever.
Virgil nodded. “Y-yes- yeah- g-go ahead-“
Roman put his hand on his back, feeling Virgil’s sweat soaking through his shirt. He rubbed gentle circles into his back
“Tell me what color the floor is, if you can.”
“Now? N-now- I think I- I think I can- the floor is- the floor’s brown- yeah- wood, brown- yeah-“
“Good, deep breathes Virge, you’re gonna be okay, everything’s gonna okay even if it isn’t right now. Just focus on me and focus on breathing, you’ll make it through this- I promise.”
Virgil closed his eyes tightly, matching Roman’s breath and shaking his hands as much as he could. Roman noticed that Virgil tried matching his breaths and started taking deeper, more controlled breaths.
A few minutes went by as Roman went through various breathing exercises and grounding techniques.
Eventually, Virgil was brought out of his attack as much as he could be. He still shook, but he was able to walk and breathe normally, for the most part.
“Why?” He asked, just as he was locking the doors.
“Why what, emo?”
“Why’d you-“ He gestured vaguely, hesitating. “Come? And help me?”
Roman glanced over at him, sighing quietly.
“Just because we have that rivalry thing of ours doesn’t mean I won’t help you. You called me, even if you didn’t mean to, I was going to help, end of story- JDelightful.”
“And how did you- if you don’t mind me prying- how did you uhm- know what to do?”
Roman looked up at the starry sky as he responded. “My older brother has panic attacks too- I’m not an expert by any means. I do know he usually needs some water and apple slices, and likes to have some chocolate. I brought some if you’re interested-“
Roman reached into his bag- purse?- and got out a semi-cold water bottle, a pack of apple slices, and chocolate.
“I heard from a little birdie that you can’t stand milk or white chocolate, lucky for you- Romulus prefers dark chocolate too.”
Virgil stared at him for a few moments, taking the items into his shaky hands. He looked down at them, running his finger over the ridges in the water bottle.
“Thank you-?”
“Don’t worry, nothing’s poisoned. They’re straight from my kitchen, princess.”
“Hey! Fuck you-“
Roman chuckled, getting a small snicker from Virgil.
“Do you need help getting home? I can leave my car here and have Romulus take me to get it in the morning.”
“I wouldn’t want to cause an inconvenience-“
“Too bad, besides, I’m not a bad driver- you don’t need to worry about our well being. Being you, though, you probably will anyways.”
Virgil snorted. “Yeah I can’t really control that-“
“I know, nightmare.”
“You’re one to talk, Mr. Bedhead,” Virgil said as he unwrapped the chocolate and took a bite.
Roman gasped with (almost) fake offense. “Wha- hey!”
Virgil chuckled and gave him a wave, shifting the three items into one hand. He walked towards his car. If he had turned around in the time it took, he just might have seen Roman smile.