Work Text:
Taylor wakes up to see Link curled up in a ball across from him on the floor of the cat bus, with his knees drawn to his chest and his head buried in them.
"Link?"
No response. And then Taylor hears a sob, and Link lifts his head a little, gasping for air.
“Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on?” Taylor asks, crawling closer to him.
Link whines, and clasps his hands over his face. He’s drenched in sweat. “I—I don’t… I—I don’t have my meds,” he stutters out between breaths. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, fuck, I—I can’t—”
Gasping again, and again, and again, Link sounds like he’s in horrible pain.
“ Gah —Link, uh, breathe man,” Taylor says, putting a tentative hand on Link’s shoulder, “Wha—what are your meds for?” 'Are you dying right now?’ he doesn’t ask.
“Ah—an— anxiety… ” Link forces out. “I—mm… a—anxiety attack… ‘s bad, ‘s bad, can’t breathe —” Link sobs before doubling over, his face nearly hitting the floor as he hyperventilates.
“Whoa! Okay, okay, okay, let’s get you back up,” Taylor says, scrambling to lift Link back up by the shoulders so he’s leaning against the wall.
“Taylor,” Link says in practically a whisper, moving his hands away from his face in favour of weakly grasping at the air, his eyes shut tight. Taylor takes the hint and clasps Link’s hands in his own.
They’re trembling violently.
“Yeah?” Taylor hears his own voice break a little despite himself.
“Nnn… need help. Can’t breathe. ‘M dying.” Fresh tears slide down Link’s cheeks as he fights for air. It’s like he’s drowning.
“You—you’re hyperventilating, not dying. Ah, fuck, um… can—can I hug you?” Taylor asks.
Link nods, and Taylor wraps his arms around his torso, and Link hugs him back tightly.
“Listen, I—I don’t really know how… how to help… but I want to. Uh… just. Uh. You can feel me, right? You can feel me holding you right now. Just, uh, focus on that. I’m here for you.”
“‘Kay. I—I… sorry . Hard. Talk. Can’t.”
“It’s chill, dude. Don’t—uh—don’t sweat it.”
Taylor feels Link’s head fall onto his shoulder, and it feels like his breathing is slowing down a little, though it’s still alarmingly shallow.
“I got you, deep breaths, you got this,” Taylor says, patting Link’s back, hoping that’ll help some. “Uh, follow along with me?”
Taylor breathes an exaggerated breath in, and an exaggerated breath out, relieved when Link starts to follow along.
“Sorry,” Link whispers on the exhale.
“You’re fine, man. ‘S okay,” Taylor hushes, rubbing his back.
Link hums, pressing his forehead further against Taylor’s shoulder and continuing to take deep breaths.
His tight grip on Taylor loosens a little as he calms down some more.
“Just breathe. You’re okay, I’m right here.”
“Okay, okay, I—I…” Link takes a few deep breaths. “I’m…” Link pulls away from the hug to hold his head. His hands are still really shaky, and his breathing is slightly staggered, but mostly stable. He moves a hand to his chest, and scrunches up his face for a second before opening his eyes, staring at the floor.
“Link…?” Taylor bends down a little, trying to tilt his head in such a way that he can meet Link’s gaze, but it seems like he’s staring off at nothing.
“I’m… okay,” Link says, his voice hoarse.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I… have… haven’t ha…had one, um, bad… in… while,” Link stutters out, wincing at his own speech. “Sorry.”
“Dude, if it’s hard for you to talk, you don’t have to. I know ASL, if you—I mean, I don’t know if you know it, but if you do… uh...”
Link shakes his head. “Sorry,” he repeats.
Taylor makes a mental note to teach him some signs later.
“It’s okay,” Taylor says, grabbing hold of his hands again. “That looked rough as hell, dude.”
“I… I… I… sorry —”
“Take your time, man.”
“Had anxiety since I was little,” Link says, his eyes welling up again. “And meds. To help. ‘S bad. Really bad.”
Taylor nods, giving his hands a squeeze.
“Sss…sorry you had to… had to see that.”
“Dude. I’m sorry you have to go through that. I might not fully get it, but I wanna help you. That’s what friends are for.”
Link shuts his eyes, and Taylor watches the tears fall. It’s not long before he leans forward to plant a kiss on Link’s cheek, cupping the other in his palm. Taylor thinks he hears a small gasp at the action, but it doesn’t sound like one of distress, so he makes no comment. “Wanna go back to sleep?”
“Yeah. Think so.”
Link lays back down, and Taylor wraps his arms around his torso, hopefully keeping him calm and warm.
-
“So, uh, um, don’t answer if you don’t wanna, or whatever, but, like, do you have… an anxiety disorder? I mean, is that, is that what caused the…”
Taylor trails off, looking anywhere that isn’t Link’s eyes. He waited a few days, but it’s been gnawing at him.
“Yeah. I have generalized anxiety disorder. Um, thanks for helping me, by the way.”
“Of course. I just—I’m not, like, good at this stuff. I mean, I have disorders too!” he says, maybe sounding a bit too excited. “Uh… I have ADHD. Also on meds. Since I was little. Like you! And then there’s um, the physical stuff, but we don’t need to get into all that.”
Link glances down at Taylor’s cane. Taylor tightens his grip on the handle. Never has he had such an awkward conversation.
“I’ve only ever really had my dads help me with panic attacks before.”
“Did I do a good job?”
Taylor did not mean to say that out loud. Stupid impulsivity.
Link chuckles. “Yeah. Thank you.”
“Heh, of course.”
“Sorry again.”
“Hey, man, I don’t go around apologizing for my disorders, and neither should you.”
Link averts his gaze, scrunching up his face a little. Wrong dialogue option, maybe.
-
Google Search: generalized anxiety disorder
how to help someone with anxiety
how to help someone with panic attacks
breathing exercises
panic attack grounding
Taylor grabs an empty notebook and a gel pen and gets to work.
First, he writes down what helped Link last time. The hug seemed to help. So he writes that. Though Taylor was floundering the entire time… hopefully these notes will help things go more smoothly.
There’s the 5-4-3-2-1 method, focusing on the senses, to bring someone back to the present. He writes that one down first.
Then there’s a few breathing exercises with different amounts of seconds for each exercise. He writes down a few.
He also writes down the signs of a panic attack coming on, because catching it early would make it easier to help Link calm down from it.
Link probably knows some of these techniques, at least, Taylor thinks he’s seen his dads use them with him before, but Link didn’t seem all too comfortable talking about his anxiety, so it’s probably best to not bring it up out of nowhere.
-
After about four hours of watching anime with Tony Pepperoni after school, everyone decides to take a little break to do some homework.
Everyone also knows that Normal is the only one who will actually do any homework.
Taylor is leaning against Link on the couch when suddenly he shifts to stand up.
“Um, I’ll… I’ll be right back, I—I think I left something in my room.”
He rushes up the stairs, but not before Taylor notices his hands trembling.
The stuttering, plus the trembling…
Taylor follows after him.
He knocks on the door. “Link? Can I come in?”
There’s no response, so Taylor opens the door, steps in, and shuts it behind him.
Link is sitting on his bed with his knees drawn to his chest and his head buried in them.
Taylor sits across from him. “Link? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Link forces out before a particularly loud gasp.
“Are you having a panic attack?”
He nods.
“Okay. That’s okay, man. Can I touch you?”
He nods again.
Taylor holds Link’s hands in his own and gives them a squeeze. Pressure is supposed to help, according to his research.
“Link, can you tell me five things you can see?” Taylor asks, tryng to keep his voice soft and gentle.
Link lifts his head and opens his eyes. There’s tears streaming down his cheeks that make Taylor’s heart break a little. “I—I can see you, and… my calendar, and…”
Link pauses, fighting for breath.
“You got this.”
“My bed. Door. Ceiling.”
“Good. Now what are four things you can… feel? Four things you can feel.”
“Your hands,” Link says, squeezing back. “My bed. Sweat. Um… shaking. I’m shaking. Does that count?”
“I think so. Okay. What are three things you can hear?”
Link closes his eyes and rests his head on his knees again. “Your voice… my voice… my breathing.”
“Good. What about two things you can smell?”
“Sweat… and… you.”
“What do I smell like?” Taylor asks, slightly caught off guard by his own curiosity.
“Comforting.”
“Okay. What’s one thing you can taste?”
“I don’t know, spit?”
“That works. Are you feeling any better?”
“Yeah,” Link says, and Taylor can hear it in his voice. The shaking is lesser now, and his breathing, while still staggered, is a lot steadier than before. “Sorry.”
“You don’t need to be, dude. I gotchu. Can I hug you?”
“Yeah.”
Taylor lets go of Link’s hands and wraps his arms around him.
Link melts into the hug, wrapping his arms around the small of Taylor’s back. “Since when did you know that grounding exercise?” he asks.
“I did my research.”
“Your research?”
Taylor pulls away from the hug for a second to pull a small notebook out of his pocket and hand it to Link.
Link flips through it, eyes wide. “Why did you…”
“To help you out. Anxiety sucks, so I wanna help when I can.”
“Thank you. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Well, I think thank you was a solid choice. And to that I say you’re welcome.”
Link grabs a pencil off his bedside table and makes a writing gesture to Taylor. “May I?”
“Go for it. I was planning on asking you for specific things that would help, but I didn’t want to stress you out.”
“I love you so much, Taylor.”
“I love you too, man.”
Taylor sits with Link for a while as he writes down some more grounding technique stuff and other information about his anxiety attacks in Taylor’s notebook. When he’s done, they both lie down on top of the blanket and cuddle, having forgotten about the people waiting downstairs.
-
Now that the quest is over, Taylor can finally focus on a concern of his that’s been on his mind for a while. Whatever is going on with Link.
He’ll have these sudden moments where he’s just totally out of it. He’ll zone out for hours, and when he talks it’s like he’s on autopilot.
Maybe talking to him would be better, but he doesn’t want to make it worse, so…
Google Search: zoning out too much and not responding
Okay. Zoning out is a type of dissociation.
What is dissociation.
Google Search: dissociation
Okay. It’s a response to stress and trauma (makes sense), and it’s where you feel disconnected from everything around you? That does not sound fun.
It looks like the 54321 method helps with dissociation too, so Taylor jots that down.
Sensory stimulation also helps, unless the person is overstimulated. And asking questions helps too.
Taylor also writes down the warning signs for dissociation, though he thinks he’ll be able to tell, it’s always good to be certain.
-
“Have you solved question six yet?” Taylor asks, staring at his math textbook and worrying his pen between his teeth.
Taylor hates studying.
He never really does it, but failing every quiz this semester made his teacher call home, and, well, his mom doesn’t put much emphasis on school at all, but she did recommend studying more. And offered to get Taylor a tutor, but he didn’t want that.
Link’s grades in math suck too, so they made a deal to study together, and that’s what they’re doing now, sitting on Taylor’s bed surrounded by snacks and worksheets.
“Mm.”
Taylor looks over at Link, who’s staring at a blank sheet of lined paper with his name written in the top left corner.
The pencil is shaking in his hand.
“Hey, Link?” Taylor puts a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t respond. Taylor moves to sit in front of Link, pushing the papers aside and placing his hands on Link’s shoulders. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeah. Sorry I… I’m kinda out of it,” Link mumbles, still staring at the paper on his lap.
“I think you’re dis… um…”
What was the word again?
“Dissociating,” Link says.
“Yeah, that.”
“That’s… that’s what my dad said…”
“Okay, that’s okay, um…”
Sensory stimulation. Pressure. Pressure would be good.
“Hey, you like holding onto me, right?” Taylor asks.
Link doesn’t respond, but Taylor takes the paper and books out from Link’s lap and sits in it, wrapping Link’s arms around himself. Taylor’s noticed that when Link is stressed he’ll just squeeze Taylor like he’s a plushie, so maybe this will help.
Taylor lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Link squeezes him.
“Do you want to listen to music? Watch a show?”
“Wanna listen to you talk.”
“I can do that.”
Taylor starts to ramble mindlessly, about the cosplay he’s been working on (his self-insert host for Ouran High ), new battle maneuvers he’s been practicing, birthday present plans, and whatever else floats into his brain.
After a while of rambling, and Link starting to be more responsive in the conversation, Taylor asks, “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah. Don’t wanna study though.”
“Me neither.”
Link adjusts in bed so he’s lying down, his hands still wrapped around Taylor’s torso. “Nap time.”
Taylor takes off his glasses, and then takes off Link’s glasses, and puts them both on his bedside table, before turning around and burying his face in Link’s chest.
-
“You know how I have a notebook full of signs and things to do when you need help with your anxiety and stuff?”
“You still have that?” Link asks, turning to face Taylor. There was a fifty percent chance he had fallen asleep already, but Taylor got lucky. It’s also a 50/50 toss up on whether Normal and Scary are asleep too, but they’re in sleeping bags away from the bed.
“I add to it all the time.”
“Wow.”
“Can I show my notes to Normal and Scary? I think it’d be helpful for them to know.”
Link leans forward and kisses Taylor on the forehead, causing him to blush.
“Yeah, you can.”
“Why did you kiss me?”
“‘Cause you’re so sweet.”
“I want another one.”
Link kisses his forehead again.
And Taylor makes a mental note to inform Normal and Scary on all his notes the next morning, because Link shouldn’t have to struggle alone, and Taylor is determined to make sure that he never does again.