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It had been a bad day from the start.
Scratch that, actually, it had been a bad day before it started.
They were smack in the middle of a heat wave, and the record high temperatures made it nearly impossible to get any sleep. What little sleep he had gotten had been restless, and Blake had woken up more exhausted than he'd been when he went to bed, not to mention being soaked in sweat.
To make matters worse, he had woken up to an alarm he'd set on his phone (Which was oh-so-helpfully right next to his head, perfect to go off right in his ears) as a reminder to meet Pico and Gabby at the mall.
The last alarm of three. Meaning he had slept through the first two.
Meaning he was running late.
Peachy.
So, without time to change, or do more than fumble his binder over his head and grab his hat and his backpack, he scrambled out the door, silently thanking the stars that he'd remembered to put his wallet in his bag the night before.
He felt like he was forgetting something, but. Well. He always felt like he was forgetting something. Chalk it up to the ADHD.
Luckily, the mall was a short drive away, and there wasn't a ton of traffic right this second, so he managed to get there in good time, and he was only speeding a little bit!
He even managed to pull into the parking lot a few minutes early...
Only to be met with the worst parking situation he'd ever seen.
What in the hell were all these people doing here on a Thursday morning? Didn't they have jobs?
He didn't even bother trying to find a space near the building, instead resigning himself to jogging from the far side.
He found a spot that must have been about a thousand miles away, managed to get parked straight on the second try, and double checked his bag to make sure he had everything he needed.
And swore a blue streak when he realized he'd left his headphones in his apartment.
Damn it all, could nothing go right today?
For a long moment, he just rested his head on the steering wheel. He thought about texting his lovers and telling them he wasn't feeling well, and that he wouldn't make it, but decided against it. They were probably already inside waiting for him, and anyway, he was already here.
Might as well make it worth it.
With the world's heaviest sigh, he made his way out of the car and into the building. He tried his best to ignore the rising dread he felt about facing what would probably be a huge crowd of people.
As he walked inside, he took a bit of comfort in the relief that the air conditioning brought to his overheated skin. It was short lived, though, as he registered the noise.
It was exactly as crowded as he'd been afraid of, and the noise was already nearly unbearable. It was an endless swarm of footsteps, overlapping conversations as everyone tried to be heard, music on the radio in the background, interspersed with an intercom announcement he couldn't hear well enough to understand.
Stars above, it all made him want to curl up into a ball and cover his ears, but he was in public, for crying out loud! He settled for flapping his hands, hard, and trying to squeeze through the crowd without touching anyone.
You may as well have asked him to walk into the ocean without touching the water. It seemed like every way he turned, there was another person to bump into. With every brush of skin against his, he felt a growing tightness in his chest that he couldn't just blame on his binder (Not that that was helping), and a tension in his shoulders.
After what felt like an eternity, he managed to break through and reach the bench that they'd agreed to meet at. The universe must have felt just a tiny bit merciful today, because he was met with his partners hustling toward him, looking apologetic.
"Sorry we're late! We got caught up in a game and lost track of time."
There was a long moment where he sluggishly processed what Gabby had said, and pulled himself together enough to force a response out.
"...S'all good. Just got here myself."
The words felt strange and wrong in his mouth, but his hands were shaking too hard to sign worth a damn, so it would have to do. His voice must have sounded as off as it felt, though, because Pico frowned at him.
"You good, babe? You kinda look like you got run over."
Gabby elbowed him for that, but Blake could only let out a stressed, slightly hysterical laugh.
"About how I feel. Rough morning."
Now they were both frowning at him. He hurried to reassure them, before they could do something silly like suggest that they leave.
"It's okay! Still wanna spend time with you guys."
He gave them the brightest smile he could manage. Neither of them looked all that convinced, but they seemed willing to trust him.
"...Kay. Let's go to the food court first, though, and get some drinks."
If the thought of touching anyone wasn't almost enough to make him want to pull his hair out, he would have kissed Pico for that. A cold soda sounded like exactly what he needed right now.
The food court, for some reason, was less crowded than the rest of the mall. Not one to question a miracle, he collapsed into the first empty chair he saw and slumped over the table. Gabby sat across from him, thankfully seeming to recognize his need for a bit of extra space, and Pico went to order drinks for the three of them.
Within a few minutes, each of them had a soda. They sat together, Gabby chatting idly just to pass the time, and as he got about half way though his drink, he felt a little bit more like a person, and a little bit less like a lit stick of dynamite.
He stood up, drink in hand, fully meaning to announce that he was ready to actually walk around the mall like they'd planned to.
Then some reckless teenager crashed into him at full speed, spilling his soda completely down his shirt. Little fucker ran off without even apologizing, too.
Okay. Okay. That was fine. He could handle this. He'd handled everything else the day had thrown at him, he would handle this too. His whole body might be shaking violently, but he was fine.
He could distantly hear Gabby asking if he was okay as he tried to regulate his breathing. And he was okay, really, he was, but he couldn't put the words together to tell her that.
And then the fire alarm went off.
And with that shrieking sound like white hot nails in his ears, he broke.
He dropped to the ground and slammed his head forward against his knees. He heard both his lovers gasp and move to his sides as he let out a frustrated, gutteral noise. One hand pulled harshly at his hair, the other hand pounded against the side of his thigh, over and over and over and over-
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of purple, and they were somewhere dark, and quiet, and cool.
Gentle hands caught his, and maybe it was too late to stop the meltdown entirely, but he could already feel the worst of it fading now that it was finally, mercifully, quiet.
Having a girlfriend who can teleport ruled sometimes.
Minutes passed as he gradually relaxed and caught his breath, uncurling from the ball he'd found himself in. He pulled his hands away and leaned back against the wall of whatever room they'd ended up in.
"...Sorry."
Jeez, his voice sounded (And quite frankly, felt) like he'd swallowed a box of thumbtacks. Luckily, if either Pico or Gabby noticed, they didn't say anything.
"You don't need to apologize, sweetie. You didn't do anything wrong."
Her voice was low and soothing, barely above a murmer.
"But-!"
"Nope, no buts, babe. That shit was completely outta your hands."
The tone in Pico's voice and the way Gabby firmly nodded along with him left no room to argue, even if he would have had the energy for it to begin with. He decided to change the subject.
"Where did you bring us?"
At that, Gabby looked a bit embarrassed.
"...My bedroom closet. It was the first place I could think of that was close and quiet. I hope that was alright."
He huffed out a quiet laugh and nodded.
"Yeah, alright. Thank you."
Gabby stood suddenly, like she had just remembered something.
"Oh, here! I have one of your shirts that you left the last time you visited, let's get you out of that soaked one."
Changing shirts was easier said than done, but eventually he managed it.
"Now, is there anything else you need?"
As he processed the question, exhaustion suddenly slammed into him like a bag of bricks.
"Tired. Both of you stay here with me? Don't wanna get up."
This time, it was Pico who responded.
"'Course, babe. You good for us to touch you?"
He nodded, and hummed in satisfaction when his partners settled in against his sides. Fatigue clouded his thoughts, and he quickly drifted off, feeling hazy.
But better. He felt so, so much better.