Work Text:
ALONE ALONE ALONE
Her brain was on fire. It physically hurt to think. Her mind wasn’t just racing, it was charging, barreling from one thought to another as though driven by a rocket that would never burn out. She felt everything and nothing at the same time. She couldn’t breathe, the air getting trapped in her chest only to be punched out by another sob. Tears ran down her face, hot and ceaseless. Her fingernails dug into her thighs, but she didn’t feel the cramping in her hand, nor the sharp punctures on her legs. She couldn’t see through her stinging tears, couldn’t hear over the roar of her own mind unraveling. Her senses taken from her, she was lost. She would stay here, knees pulled to her chest, head tucked down, rocking back and forth on the living room floor until her mind tore her apart.
ALONE ALONE ALONE
“Omega?” A distant voice pushed through the roaring in her head. Echo.
She tried to say his name, but only an indistinct wail pushed through. Her grip tightened even more, her short nails tearing through the fabric of her leggings. She tried again, this time choking on her words, tears, and phlegm.
“Omega.” He was closer now. He had found her. His voice was soft but steady. She felt his warm hand on her knee, and it was enough of a jolt to let her pick her head up.
Her vision was blurred with tears and terror, but she could see him. His dark eyes were shining, brows pulled together, but the rest of his face was smooth and still. He had sat down in front of her, legs stretched out.
“Omega, I need you to breathe with me, okay?” He said softly.
She tried to speak, and again could only sob.
“Come sit with me,” he said, reaching out for her hand. With all the strength she had left, she unclenched her hand and took his. With a gentle squeeze, he tugged her forward. “Come sit with me,” he repeated. “Like I showed you before.”
Her mind fought her the entire time, but after a few moment of scrambling and sobbing, she was sitting in front of him, her back against his chest. She tried to pull her knees back up, but Echo wrapped his arm around her abdomen, resting his hand flat on her stomach.
“Breathe with me,” he said, gentle but insistent. She felt him start to inhale, his chest expanding. Fighting through the noise and pain that still surrounded her, she followed his lead, taking in a deep breath, letting the air fill her chest and belly. His hand moved with her inhale, confirming that she had breathed deeply.
“Hold it.” She could feel his voice rumbling in his chest. “And out.” She exhaled slowly. She was still trembling, but it was quieter around her.
“Again,” he said. They inhaled together, expanding out. She heard Echo count, his voice a deep steady anchor through the din in her head. When she blinked through the exhale her vision seemed a little clearer.
Echo guided her through two more breaths, and with each her mind became more quiet, more still. Her muscles slowly relaxed, the tension leaving her in each exhale.
“Tell me three things you see,” he said on their last exhale. “Don’t think.”
Blinking the last of her tears away, she looked forward. “My sketch pad is under the couch. It has a blue cover, it’s spiral bound, and I colored the edges of the pages with pink highlighter.” Echo hummed in agreement, and she felt it against her back. “There’s a blanket on the back of the couch. It’s green and tan and white and camo print. It has a green border. And there’s a record player by the window. It’s a reddish wood, with radio dials. It’s missing a piece in the front. Tech’s still working on it.”
“Good job,” he said. “Now two things you can hear.”
“There’s a dog barking outside. And I can hear birds.”
“And one thing you can touch.”
“Your sweater sleeve.” She tugged on it, causing him to chuckle. “It’s a nice dark green color. It’s not itchy, it’s soft. It’s heavy, and warm.”
“Good job, kiddo.” He pulled her closer in a tight hug. “How are you feeling now?”
“Okay.” She shifted around so she was facing him. The crease between his eyes was still there, but he smiled softly at her. “Better.”
“You don’t have to, but if you ever want to talk-“
“I do,” she cut him off. “I’m okay to do it now.”
“Only if you’re sure,” he said.
“I’m sure.” She took a deep breath. “I got home from school and you weren’t here. I searched all over, but Crosshair wasn’t here either. No one was home, and I-“ Omega paused, taking a deep breath. “I got scared. I haven’t been alone since-“ She bit her lip, and reached back out, grabbing his hand. “I used to be left alone at my mom’s house. It was scary, and when I couldn’t find anyone, all I could think was that I was alone again.”
“Omega, listen to me.” His face was serious under his beanie, the same dark green of his sweater. “You are not alone anymore. You have us now. We’re never leaving you behind. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I thought I had texted you that I had to drop off something for work on my way home, and was going to be late. I must not have hit send. That’s on me.”
“It’s okay,” she said.
“It’s not.” He shook his head. “Not if it made you upset.”
She smiled weakly at him. “It is though. I know you wouldn’t leave, I just…didn’t remember. You know?”
He nodded. “When we have really strong emotions, like when we’re afraid, it’s easy for the emotion to take over. Sometimes we don’t remember that our circumstances are different.”
“I should have just called you,” she said sheepishly.
“You were scared,” Echo said gently. “It’s been a while since you’ve had to deal with those feelings.”
“I haven’t had a panic attack since I got here,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “That might be why this one was so hard.”
“Thanks. For finding me.” She clarified when he gave her a confused look.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he said. “Someone is always going to find you.”
She threw her arms around him for one more fierce hug. Standing, she took his hand to help him up.
“Where is Cross?” She asked, heading to the kitchen.
“He got called in for an extra shift.” Echo followed, heading straight for the cabinet with the mugs. “There’s a note on the board.”
Omega looked over at the whiteboard hanging over the sink. Sure enough, in Crosshair’s long thin handwriting, was a note. Called in for extra hours. Save me some dinner.
“I…missed that,” Omega said.
“Easy to do,” Echo said with a shrug. “Now, do you want the mint hot chocolate or the spicy hot chocolate?”
“Mint, please!” She chirped. She felt lighter, her mind and body finally calm. “I’m gonna go wash my face. It feels gross.”
“Tears and snot will do that,” Echo said.
In the upstairs bathroom, Omega ran the water a little cooler than normal. It felt therapeutic, rinsing the cleanser off. Like the remnants of her fear were also flowing down the drain.
By the time she returned, her favorite mug was steaming and topped with a mountain of marshmallows.
“All right kid, you’re getting extra screen time tonight,” Echo said, grabbing his own mug. “Pick a movie.”
“Spiderverse,” she said.
“I thought you’d say that,” he said, settling into the couch. “Set it up.”
When Omega sat down after putting the disc in the blue ray player, Echo put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. She leaned in, his warmth and the smell of laundry detergent enveloping her. Everything was right again. She was safe. She wasn’t alone.