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He’s never liked cities. He’s always been a country boy, through and through; always preferred the wide-open spaces of land and air rather than the claustrophobic concrete.
The thought of going into London doesn’t frighten him as much as it once did. Back when he was younger he was almost paralyzed with fear at the idea of all those buildings, all those people, all that noise. But now he can handle it. He’s had to deal with it most of his working life.
For the past decade it hasn’t seemed so horrible to have to go into London, even by himself. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that if anything went wrong, he wasn’t far from James – he could always wander into Hammersmith and turn up on the doorstep, no questions asked. He would only be a few minutes away from a hot mug of tea and welcoming arms to cocoon him in safety.
And in the past couple of years his fear is squelched by the fact that if he knows James is away, there is a high chance that Jeremy will be at his flat. All he needs to do is send quick text asking if Jez is free and he’s walking into a soothing embrace.
If the old nervousness creeps back into his veins, and if he’s lucky enough, they will both be waiting for him. Ready to make him forget any fears he’s ever had. Calming him with every kiss they share.
But when he finds out that he has to face New York City alone, he automatically feels the nervousness descend like a hazy fog. Last time he could handle the city, because he was surrounded by either the camera crew or James and Jeremy. And when he got lost wandering down 5th Avenue they found him as quickly as they could using the resources they had – the internet. He’d never been so thankful that they had fans around the world.
The moment he steps off the plane, the jitters begin. He feels like he hasn’t slept in days with the added bonus of feeling like he’s just pounded back four cans of Red Bull with a chaser of three espressos. His stomach doesn’t know if it’s hungry or if it’s about to expel everything onto passport control’s shoes.
He wants nothing more than to turn around and get back on a plane back to England. Back home. Back to the men he loves and who can make this feeling go away with just a few simple touches and a few cups of tea.
He has to deal with it. He has to be here for work. He has to be able to conquer this on his own.
He takes a deep breath, hails a cab, and goes to his hotel. Attempts at getting a few more hours of sleep fail and he decides to face his fear full on. A trip to the very epicentre of busyness – Times Square – should either send him into a full-blown panic attack or make him see how stupid he’s been for fearing cities.
Taking a seat on the uncomfortable red chair, he sets his beige bag on the equally red table and takes a deep breath. He can do this. Bright lights surround him, the sound of traffic overbearing everything, people walking around, laughing, talking, yelling, the smell of food from the dozens of restaurants and food carts wafting into his nose. It surrounds him and envelopes him and he doesn’t know how much more of it he can take.
A glance at his watch tells him it’s a little after 2 in the afternoon back home. As much as he isn’t freaking out and running for the hills that he’s heard are upstate, he needs that reminder that he’s going to be okay, that he can handle this by himself. Before he realises it, his phone is in his hand and he’s already pressed the name of the man he needs to hear the most right now.
“Morning, Hammond. How are you holding up?”
“G’Afternoon, May. I’m sitting in Times Square and I haven’t passed out yet.”
James lets out a low whistle, “I’m surprised, I would have thought you’d be staying in your hotel room the entire time, only coming out when you had to.”
If he was perfectly honest with himself, he hadn’t even thought of that.
“Wanted to throw myself into it: see if I could sink or swim without you.”
“And which are you?”
“Neither. Just floating.”
He tries to change the subject and talk about what James is up to for the day, but he’s focusing less and less on his voice and more and more on how everything is closing in on him. He’s sure the buildings were farther apart when he first sat down. The lights are brighter than they were a few minutes ago, despite it being 9 in the morning. The sun shines, reflecting off of all of the windows of the buildings; blue skies visible between the skyscrapers or if he looks straight up. The smell of fried food is suffocating him. This city is going to kill him. It’s already smothering him and he’s only been here for a few hours.
A voice is calling out to him, calling his name, and he vaguely remembers that his phone is still up to his ear.
“Hammond, speak to me. You’ve been quiet for too long and you’re breathing so loud that I can hear it. Breathe, man, breathe.”
He shakes his head, tries to get rid of the thoughts. Nothing’s closing in on him, he’s just imagining it. He takes a few deep breaths and closes his eyes for a moment.
“I’m fine.”
“You aren’t, you’re almost having a panic attack on the phone. Say the word and I’ll be there, you know I will. Jez too, you know he has nothing to do.”
He takes another deep breath and calms himself.
“I’m fine. I’m going to have to deal with it; I’m here for another couple of weeks. I can’t keep calling you or Jeremy just because I can’t handle big cities like some kind of freak.”
“Hammond –”
Richard cuts him off, “Listen, May, I’ve got to go, need to get some coffee before we start filming this afternoon. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
“If you need me –”
“Bye, May,” he signs off before he presses the red button and puts his mobile on the table.
A great sigh heaves out of him automatically. Eyelids flutter shut as he breathes in and out. Inhale. Exhale. He regulates his breathing and finds himself calming down.
When he opens his eyes once again he finds the buildings where they originally were, the slight smell of pizza makes his mouth water, and the lights enticing him to buy whatever they’re selling.
He has to conquer this by himself. He can do it without them, he knows he can.
It’s only just a city after all.