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He didn't think it was all that concerning at first, all the feelings. Feelings of Inadequacy, the nervousness, the bone deep tiredness.
He brushed off the occasional thoughts of hurting himself. They did freak him out a bit but he could brush them off as just being overdramatic or overwhelmed.
He couldn't ignore it when the panic attacks would happen, he still tried to brush them off after at least until he had one in front of his brothers.
They were concerned, Huey was upset that he didn't tell them that he'd been having panic attacks after he tried to say it was okay and that he handles them fine.
He didn't necessarily try to hide it after that, but he didn't want his brothers to worry and he could handle it on his own.
So, it was rare for his brothers to see him having one or anyone after that. If he did it was either really bad or they found him in one of his hiding spots.
He tried to actively push them down while on adventures and that only made them worse when he finally found a spot alone to panic.
He really didn't need the rest of the family seeing him like that either, so not hiding from his brothers had that as the added benefit.
Soon though, his occasional thoughts and feelings were more persistent.
He was tired more often, most days actually. He never felt like he was good enough and started second guessing everything he said, and now he was almost always nervous, or worried.
The thoughts about hurting himself got more frequent and harder to brush off as well. He sometimes caught himself digging his nails a little too deep into his skin or pulling a little too hard on his feathers.
He didn't actually ever follow through but they were there now and they wouldn't go ignored for long.
It was after a particularly harrowing adventure that he intentionally hurt himself for the first time.
They were exploring some creepy temple in the middle of the jungle and not only did he almost die, he watched his siblings almost die as well.
He had almost broken down on the plane ride back but managed to push down the panic attack until they got home.
He had took the first opportunity to sneak off to one of his secret hidden corners of the mansion. A tiny cupboard that was probably meant for cleaning supplies but was empty other than a single flashlight which Louie had brought in a couple years ago.
It was one of his favorite hiding spots, it was dark, quiet, enclosed, and the best part, his brothers didn't know about it.
He sat down roughly slamming his back on the wall and dragging his legs up into his arms. His breathing got quicker and he shoved his face into his knees as he felt his chest tighten and tears trail down his face.
He felt something poking him from inside his hoodie too and that had distracted him a bit from his panic attack.
With his breathing still speeding up and tears still streaming down his face he felt around his pocket and pulle out a pocket knife.
He had forgotten about that.
He thinks he found it in the brothers shared closet, not really remembering where for certain but he remembers why he took it.
The thoughts of hurting himself had gotten really bad one night, he took it 'just to have it'. He probably knew he'd use it though, why else would he have kept it on him.
He didn't even really register himself pulling up his hoodie sleeve but the first slice into skin and feathers brought his awareness back.
He stared, dazed, at the blood pooling up from the small cut. He just cut himself. And it felt, good.
He inhaled shakily, drawing the blade across his arm again this time the cut was a bit deeper and he gasped at the pain.
He stared at the blood for a while before putting the knife away and pulling his sleeve down.
He left the cupboard and acted like nothing was up when his siblings asked where he'd been.
"Ah you know, just doing Louie stuff."
After that it was all downhill.
The cutting became a once a week thing and then twice a week until it dissolved into him cutting at least once every day, usually more than that.
His panic attacks became less frequent, surprisingly, maybe the self harm helped with something or maybe he was just better at getting them to go away.
When he did have a panic attack, it was bad. He couldn't eat for two days after a particularly awful one.
His siblings all seemed worried about him, but he thought he was hiding things pretty well. He guesses they can always tell though.
They had always noticed when he snuck off after an adventure and came back after a couple of hours more subdued.
Or, how sometimes it seemed like he was dizzy out of no where but it was actually just blood loss.
Still, they were just worried, no questions or suspicion really. Maybe it would be better though, he hates making the three worry over him.
He still didn't budge with his hiding, and his thoughts spiraled from just inadequacy and hurting himself to thoughts about death.
Those caught him off guard the first few times, he almost had a panic attack the first time a thought about killing himself cane up, but he didn't tell anyone.
He brushed off the thoughts he could which wasn't much now, and he dealt with the rest. Pushing them down or ignoring them or even indulging in a few.
Maybe he could cut a just bit deeper or maybe he could see how long he could go without eating.
Maybe he could sit on the roof at two in the morning and think about what his body would look like mangled and broken on the ground so far below.
The only thing stopping him from leaning forward and letting go was the thought, 'What if its Huey, Dewey or Webby that finds me.' he went back in the house after that.
He just got better at faking smiles and optimism towards his family, it was harder with his siblings and especially his brothers, their triplets so it's fairly difficult to hide anything from them, but he does. He puts on a spectacular act.
His siblings still seemed worried but less so and the rest of the family never even noticed anything was wrong.
It stayed like that for a while, he kept putting up an act and avoiding the roof and thoughts about throwing himself off it.
Sometimes, he'd call aunt Goldie and talk to her, if it was really hard to ignore the thoughts.
He didn't hide as much from her, but that was because she always called out his lies. She made him promise to call her when he gets bad. He was surprised at the slight desperation she had in her voice.
All of that didn't matter, as he found himself on the roof again. He had opened Goldie's contact, thought about calling but... he couldn't do it.
It was maybe three in the morning, he stared down from the roof, almost mesmerized.
He didn't notice someone coming up behind him until he felt a hand grab his arm. He whipped his head around and saw Dewey with a distressed look on his face.
"Louie! What the fuck are you doing on the roof?!" Dewey's grip on his arm got a bit tight, it didn't hurt but it would if it got any tighter.
"I.." Dewey looked like he was about to break down crying, "Are you alright Dew?" that was not the right thing to say.
Dewey burst into tears, "Louie, I woke up and you weren't there and I found this" he pulled out Louie's pocket knife "in the hiding spot between your matress and the bed and I thought- then I called Goldie and she told me to check the roof! The roof Lou! What the hell why did she make it sound like you do this often, why didn't you tell us you felt like this- Lou I don't know what I'd do- what Huey and Webby would do if you were gone."
He sobbed into Louie's hoodie who had been dragged more onto the roof by Dewey.
"I'm sorry." Dewey sniffed and pulled his head out of Louie's shoulder.
"Don't- How long have you been feeling like this Lou?" he shrugged.
"I don't know, a while I guess."
Dewey looked crushed.
"And how long have you been hurting yourself?" Dewey asked quieter this time.
"Like, a year and a half? maybe.." if Dewey looked crushed before he looked devastated now.
"I'm so sorry Lou." Dewey pulled him into a crushing hug.
"Why.. are you sorry?" Louie was honestly confused, and upset that his brother knew all of this now and was slightly panicking because his family is definitely going to be informed.
"Why am I sorry?! Because I didn't notice how bad it was! None of us did!" Dewey looked like he might cry again and Louie just really wanted to change the subject.
"Maybe.... we should go inside." he suggested and Dewey sniffled but stood up and dragged them both back into the house.
Louie checked his phone when they got back into the mansion and say some missed texts and a call from Goldie.
He sent her a text alont the lines of 'I'm alive, I'll call you later.' Then shut his phone off.
He told Dewey he was tired to avoid the inevitable talk that he'll have to have about this and everything else.
He would've had a panic attack if Dewey hadn't been insistent on sleeping with him, Dewey was nervous too. Because of him.
He fell into a comfortable sleep eventually, being comforted by his brother's presence even if it made him upset at the same time.
He could worry and panic in the morning and he would but for now he'd sleep.