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He wasn’t even sure when it started. Or why. All he knew, with absolute certainty, is he despised these moments.
The instants where he was flung into his past, thrown headfirst into his worst moments. Where the stench of blood stung his nose and explosions left his ears ringing. It left him reeling, confusion and fear welling up like a geyser inside him waiting to explode.
He didn’t understand it. These feelings. Apparently, his friends did.
“Triggers.” Damien had mumbled to him one night, half asleep on Orion’s shoulder as he comforted the large alien after a particularly gruesome nightmare. He has to speak quietly, so as not to wake Elias, who was curled up in the bed opposite them. “It’s normal after what you went through.”
“It’s a weakness.” He replied, anger shadowing his shame as he curled his tail around them both, claiming comfort and offering his own kind of gratitude.
Damien swiped at him clumsily, turning so one half-lidded eye could look up at him, a rare display of conviction edging his words. “Not a weakness, Ry. A completely normal response.”
Orion lets the words simmer, eyeing stars glittering outside the window that are familiar but not his and feels something clench in his chest. “Will it ever get better?” he mutters.
The human does not answer though, already he has slipped back into a peaceful lull and Orion tries not to feel a twinge of envy at how peacefully and easily his human companions are able to slip into unconsciousness and stay that way.
He lets him sleep. Humming an old hymn, he sets Damian back, pulling the blankets up before quietly standing. There would be no sleep for him tonight, his thoughts were too tangled, too full of thorns that pricked at his most sensitive memories and caused them to weep with his deepest shame.
Perhaps tomorrow would allow him a reprieve, for now though, he might as well be productive, instead of wallowing in his emotions.
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He isn’t sure how it happened. He isn’t even sure what could have caused the mess they were in now.
They had been walking. Talking. Laughing. He was having fun.
Suddenly there were lights. Explosions across the sky.
Suddenly.
Suddenly.
Suddenly.
He was back home.
And it was ending.
Suddenly, he was a kit again. Scared and weak. Something grabs him and all he can do is lash out, fear rushing through him, and something hot hits his cheek. It smells of metal.
He falls away,
His instincts scream at him to run and hide. To escape the danger, but there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape. His world trembles and cracks around him.
And then.
He sees them. His guardian. Limp and bleeding. The smell of blood and gore causes him to gag and he finds himself stumbling back when he sees them. Their face is twisted towards him, empty and absent of their dancing lights. He blinks and it’s all he can see then, the anger, twisted and aimed at him with a rage he’s never seen from them before.
He opens his mouth, pleas on the tip of his tongue, but everything shifts around him.
Suddenly, he’s falling, falling, falling.
He falls and his breath rushes out of him, leaving him gasping.
He’s there again. standing in the pool of gathered blood. The one he was blessed in when the world was suddenly struck silent. He wants to howl his grief to the empty sky, to fill that silent city with his anger, but the cries catch in his throat and choke him instead.
His stomach twists, nausea building within him as he fights the urge to vomit.
His people lay in twisted and broken heaps around him as the blood lapped at his legs, staining the fur dark red. His reflection ripples in front of him, the helpless kit is gone. He sees himself. Older. Stronger. A failure.
The image sickens him. He turns away.
He looks up, up, up.
Away from his twisted reflection, away from the blood, away from the broken bodies, and his eyes meet two supernovas.
The titan towers over him. Silent as always. Its eyes glow with a fire so bright and hot he feels as though he’ll be vaporized any second now from the weight of its judgment.
“I’m sorry...” He falls to his knees, the thick liquid sloshes around him and his robes begin to soak up the fluid. “I’m sorry.” He clutches his head tightly, ignoring the sting as his claws dig into his skin. There is no answer.
He startles at the sudden grip on his wrist.
The red lake is suddenly a twisting, writhing mass. A red foam gathers around him as his broken people drag themselves up. Empty, soulless eyes cut through him as more and more hands join the fray, dragging him down.
His breath catches. “I’m sorry.”
He can’t breathe. Why can’t he breathe!? “Say something!” he screeches at the behemoth above him.
The titan doesn’t respond, it watches him crumble.
The hands grip his shoulders now, trembling, weak fingers fumble with his claws as he grips harder and harder.
He sucks in a breath, ravaged throat weeping with pain. “Please!” He pleads one last time, and then he’s gone.
He’s lost. He can’t feel anything. Somehow, he feels too much.
He hears voices.
A million accusations are thrown at him, each piercing deeper with every barbed shout.
It was all his fault. He curls into himself, breath still lost to him as he struggled to pull in any air.
Breath. Breath. A voice pleads distantly. It’s gone soon enough.
Everything was lost and it was all his fault. He failed them. His people. His home.
He feels numb.
He was alone. Lost in a suffocating fog. He curls up, but the voices continue, barbed words dig into his skin, a million voices demanding retribution. A thousand agonized screams pleading to live. All directed at him, a cacophony of noise that turns into a distant roar.
He curls up tighter, gritting his teeth against the noise. Stop, stop, stop!
He can’t think! He needs it to stop! The noise drums through his head, an endless, endless cry.
“Please.” He almost begs.
Just when he thinks it will never end and he’ll go mad. He hears it. It starts out quiet, so low it could be missed, but somehow it breaks through the deafening roar. The sound of humming.
He stills, then.
It breaks through the discord of voices and sends his spiraling mind to a sudden standstill. He almost misses it, but when he finally processes it, he latches onto the sound.
It was awkwardly sung. Stilted and clumsy as it came from inexperienced throats.
It was not the same song. Not the one sung by his caregiver, full of such love and fondness he could practically feel himself drowning in it. No, it wasn’t the same song, but it still held the same meaning. It was so achingly familiar, he finds himself calming, despite himself.
He drags in a breath, eyes still closed, as the hymn continues.
“That right.” A voice mumbles quietly, shaky but firm. “Deep breaths.”
He’s not sure how long he sits like this, he’s not sure it matters. For once, he allows himself the reprieve. The humming continues and with each bar he finds the panic ebbing. His splintered thoughts begin to gather, and finally, he feels he can trust himself to speak.
“How do you know that song?” he rasps quietly, breaking the spell after an unknown amount of time.
The humming stops and he finds himself missing the sound.
He shakes off the melancholy and opens his eyes to stare down at the trio surrounding him.
His humans look to be in various states of disarray and distress, surrounding him in a semicircle.
It was, of course, Kory who broke the silence first. She leans in close, green eyes wide and imploring as she searched for something in his gaze.
“You back with us big guy?” and its said so quietly, almost hesitantly, he finds himself pausing. Kory never spoke like that, she was all explosive energy and larger than life emotions.
“Give him a bit of space, Kor.” That was Damien. Orion finds him to his left, all scrunched up eyebrows and worried lips.
Orion is gripping Kory’s arms, small beads of blood drip sluggishly down her arm where he was clutching her too tightly. He quickly drops her hand, shame welling up in him, but she blows a raspberry at him before gently taking his hand back, smiling up at him as she adjusts her position to give him some room.
“What happened?” He finds his voice a bit stronger. A look is shared between the two, but they don’t offer an answer. A hand squeezes his shoulder lightly, catching his attention and pulling his gaze to his right.
Elias gives him a small smile. An attempt at comfort that was thrown off by the tears glistening in the humans’ eyes. Orion’s eyes catch on the crimson splotches on the human’s shirt. It doesn’t take him long to see the way the human favors his arm, clutching it to his chest in a protective manner.
He reaches for him, and Elias doesn’t resist him as he takes the appendage, eyeing the damage critically. “We were attacked?” he asks finally.
They hesitate, a blink and you’ll miss it moment, and don’t answer. He pauses again, releasing Elias’ arm to stare at them. “What happened?” he asks, firmer than before. Things weren’t adding up.
The puzzle pieces were there, scattered, he just had to put them together. He ached in a way he hadn’t experienced in years; a throbbing headache assaulted him, and his body felt exhausted and achy. It takes him some time to notice his claws, longer than it should have, to feel the sticky, heavy feeling.
He brings the appendage up, ignoring the sounds of warning coming from his companions, and apprehensively admires the dark matted fur that ran up the length of his arm. He sniffs it once, hissing at the metallic smell, before dropping it again. His gaze hardens. “Explain.” He growls. He wasn’t asking anymore. Whatever they were hiding clearly involved him.
Kory remains stubbornly quiet, though he wouldn’t have expected anything less from her. Elias, again, offers another smile, this one somewhat sadder though. He turns his glare onto Damien.
The human looks away briefly, in an attempt to collect his brewing thoughts, before he turns back to face the alien. “Do you remember when we talked about triggers…and trauma?” he asks hesitantly. He stops, indecision on his face as he debated his next words. “Fireworks might be a…a problem.”
The words don’t connect right away. He’s left dumbfounded at the implication of something as simple as fireworks could set him off. They were mistaken. They had to be. They had been walking, enjoying the night. He had to remember what had led up to this situation.
He thinks hard, muddled thoughts sharpening as he recalls more and more from the last hour.
He remembers…he remembers-
He recoils, because suddenly the puzzle pieces were coming together. The explosions he had heard and the colors he’d seen, so vivid in his mind hadn’t been in his mind at all. Or not all of them at least.
The first flash, and suddenly he wasn’t there anymore.
“What did I do?” he barely holds the panic back. He was in his true form and in public. “Did anyone…” his throat tightens.
“No one saw.” Elias answers as Kory tightens her hold on his hand. “We managed to get you out of sight before anyone saw anything.”
He relaxes, but only for a moment when another thought strikes him. “What happened to your arm?”
They all freeze at that, and no one answers, but Orion doesn’t need them too. He had already connected the dots before the question had even cleared his throat. He saw the damage done to Kory’s arm, it wasn’t hard to infer what happened to Elias. He knew how deadly his claws were.
He turns towards the human and feels sick. The gash was long and deep. It still bled sluggishly and was clearly going to need further medical attention than what they had at their disposal. It must have hurt, and all he can think about is how Elias must have gotten it while trying to get him out of sight.
How could he have lost control over himself to do that? The static begins again as horror begins to flood his mind. The voices return, accusatory and angry, and he finds himself falling again.
The humming returns, stronger and surer than before. It’s the only thing that manages to drag him back and he blinks a few times to clear the haze. “Stay with us.” One of them commanded firmly.
He drags in a breath that feels like he’s swallowing glass and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Elias replies firmly.
“It does.”
“Not to me.”
“It should!”
“Why should it?” Kory asks, a challenge in her eye as he whips around to face her.
“Because it shouldn’t have happened!” he snarled, fangs exposed and hair rising. To his surprise, the trio did not even blink. Familiar shame builds up in his chest. They were only trying to help; he shouldn’t take his misguided anger out on them. “I hurt you. I put all of you at risk.”
“You didn’t do any of this on purpose.” Damien says.
He breathes, taking a deep breath to ground himself. Arguing with these humans would have them going in circles all night.
“How do I make this stop?” He finally asks. He can’t look at them. The stench of blood is overwhelming, and he fears he may spiral again if he stays like this much longer. He feels as helpless as the day he lost his home. Everything feels out of his control.
The three humans share a glance. Clearly, he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“There's no way to make it go away completely Ry.” Damien says softly.
Orion breathes again, closing his eyes as frustration builds up inside him. “So, I have to live like this forever? Constantly on edge? Always at risk of having another breakdown?” Always a burden. His thoughts hissed at him.
Silence. He opens his eyes, and all three humans are looking at him sadly.
“It probably won’t go away.” Damien begins again, and Orion feels that feeling of dread well up inside him. “But that doesn’t mean it won’t get better.” His ears perk slightly at that.
Damien rubs the back of his neck as he scrunches his eyebrows. “It might take time.”
“I’ve had years to get over this.” Orion sighs, running his claws down his face. He catches the way they tense up at the action and it’s only then does he feel the sting and feel the stickiness coating his fur.
Damien takes the appendage and pulls it away from Orion’s face. He ignores the blood coating it and squeezes it. “It will take time.” He repeats softly. “But…that isn’t all.”
Elias answers this time. “You need people to help you too.” he squeezes his shoulder slightly. “And I think we’re all more than willing.”
“It’s not your responsibility.”
Kory blows another raspberry at him, cutting him off. “It’s not about that, it’s not a job. Even if you say no, we’ll do it anyways.” She smiles up at him. “And there’s nothing you can do about it. That’s what friends are for.”
Orion can’t place the feeling that rises in his chest at her words. Fondness for the three humans, willing to help him despite his flaws, wells up in his chest as a feeling he hasn’t felt in years begins to spread throughout his body. “Thank you.”
They smile, and he finds he would do anything to protect those smiles.
“What should we do now?” He asks.
“I think we should probably try and get home at some point.” Damien runs his free hand through his hair, sighing as he takes in the dingy warehouse they had all shoved him into.
He nods. Home sounds amazing.
“For now, though, I think we’re all good hanging just out here for a bit.” And he notices the way Damien is looking at him, as though he’s asking for his approval on the decision. Orion tilts his head towards Elias who simply smiled, offering him the decision.
Orion considers their current situation. Home sounded ideal; it was safe. It was familiar. It offered him a place to hide and wait this out. But he was still exhausted, and the thought of having to hold his human form all the way home sounded awful. There was also Elias’ arm and Kory’s nicks to deal with. Beyond that, all three humans looked awful, and he was sure he didn’t look any better.
“That sounds like a great idea.” He sighs, offering a small smile to them that they return full force.
Soon enough, after all wounds are patched, they settle together. A familiar weight on his back and sides as they rest together. It doesn’t take long before the familiar tune begins again. Only Kory is humming this time, and he finds the tune different. More attuned to her style, bouncy and light. He likes it. Orion closes his eyes and listens for a moment. “You still haven’t told me how you know that song.” He murmurs quietly.
“You’ve sung it for us before.” Damien answers, just as quietly, with his knees drawn to his chest so he can rest his chin on top of them. He relaxes to the sound of the hymn and leans back to rest completely against Elias and Orion and nestles between them. “Whenever we were going through a hard time.”
He thinks hard about his time spent with this group; about every hardship they’ve faced together. The memories begin to trickle back to him. He remembers curling around Damien, rumbling the song deep in his chest, as the human recovered from a brutal battle that left him with a broken arm and feelings of inadequacy. He remembers Elias, crying and so sick from his time captured with the enemy, being quieted with the hymn as he fitfully slept. He remembers Kory, so angry and so lost as she buried her face in his fur and screamed her anger away, only calming when he held her and hummed quietly. He must not have even realized he was doing it.
“We figured it might be our best bet at calming you down.” Damien continues.
He closes his eyes and flicks his ears approvingly. “Mm, smart humans.”
“The smartest.” Kory adds before restarting where she left off.
He doesn’t offer an explanation for the song, and they don’t ask. Maybe later, when he isn’t mentally exhausted he can tell them its meaning. Explain how the song promises love and protection. Explain how its typically saved for families. For now, though, he prefers to rest and accept the comfort they’re offering him now. If he’s lucky this will never happen again and he won’t have to burden them more with his own past mistakes.
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It takes all of his willpower to seek them out. Shame bubbles up within him when he knocks on Elias’ and Damien's door. Just when he feels his resolve breaking and contemplates fleeing, the door opens.
Elias takes one look at him and immediately pulls him through the threshold.
And so, this was how he found himself twenty minutes later. Thrown haphazardly onto one of the beds, with Cornchip lying across his chest, and some regrets about how he found he found himself in this situation.
For now, it was only he and Elias in the room. Kory and Damien, already made aware of the situation, were picking up some ‘comfort items’ so they could all prepare to camp out Elias’ and Damiens room. Kory had dumped Cornchip on his chest, loudly exclaiming him Ryans ‘comfort companion’, before booking it out the door with Damien.
Honestly, it feels as though Ryan is comforting the cat more than it’s comforting him, but he does find the weight of the creature perched on his chest comforting. Occasionally, the small creature places a paw gently on his cheek and catches his eye before curling back into a ball.
“What is he doing?” Ryan asks after the fifth time.
Elias, who had been sitting quietly on the other bed up to this point, glanced over at him. He observes the kittens’ action before smiling. “I think he’s trying to comfort you. He only does it when you start to look sad.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that. He catches Elias staring at him from the corner of his eye, an invitation to talk if he wished. He sighs and lets his head flop against the pillow behind him. “I suppose I’m getting too lost in my own thoughts.”
Elias hums. “Would you like to talk about it?”
“There's nothing to talk about.” Ryan stares at the ceiling. Coming here to seek comfort was already a lot for him, actively speaking about what caused him to come here with his tail between his legs was out of the question.
Elias leans his cheek into one hand and observes the alien for a bit. He should have known the human wasn’t going to drop it. Of all of them, he was the most in tune with his emotions, and the emotions of those around him. “We both know that isn’t true.”
Ryan doesn’t reply and stubbornly turns further away from the human. It’s childish but he can’t find it in him to care too much.
Elias sighs, quiet and subdued, and for a moment Ryan thinks he’ll let it go. “Why did you seek us out today?” he asks instead.
“I came here for company.” Ryan mutters back.
“Another lie.”
“So, what if it is?” He snaps back, turning his glare onto the human with a snarl on his lips.
Elias holds his gaze, unyielding to the burst of aggression.
Ryan pulls himself back, hiding his fangs with an almost pleading look. “I just want to rest, Elias.”
Elias doesn’t even twitch. “Of course you do, but something is holding you back. You bottle these emotions up and hope they don’t explode later. You hold your emotions close to your chest and try to act as though you don’t care, but we know you do. What will you do when you can’t anymore?”
“What is it you want?” Ryan grits his teeth. “What do you want from me?”
He hears shuffling, Elias is moving closer, and Ryan feels trapped. “I want you to talk to us.” A hand is laid gently on his forearm and he’s sure Elias can feel his trembling as he grips onto the bedspread. “We want to help you.”
“I can’t.” he shakes the hand off. “You can’t.”
“Why not?” the hand returns, this time it wasn’t letting go.
“It makes me feel weak!” he snarls. He feels his fangs lengthen and his claws come out. He blinks at the feeling of a soft paw pad on his cheek. Cornchip stares at him and he reigns himself in. He guiltily rubs his thumb into the cat’s cheek, leading the pet to lean into the touch with a purr. Ryan feels remorse swell in his chest as he clenches his eyes shut. “I feel out of control Elias.”
Elias doesn’t flinch at the outburst “It doesn’t make you weak. Coming to us, trying to get help, that makes you strong.”
Ryan turns away. “It doesn’t feel strong.”
Elias sighs, gentle as ever, and turns Ryan to face him with both hands on his shoulders. The scratch from weeks before was barely visible anymore. The faintly pink line would probably disappear completely before long. “Strength is more than a physical display.” He bumps their foreheads, a sign of affection and comfort he had seemed to pick up from Ryan himself. “And you, my friend, have the strength to face this and if you think you don’t, you will always have our strength to rely on. You have to believe me when I say you can always rely on on us, just as we know we can rely on you.”
Ryan can feel his conviction, their connection through the heart would not allow them to lie to him, just as it would not allow him to lie to them. Despite himself, he lets some form of a smile through. “I suppose you would know that better than most.”
Ryan thinks back to the years and years he spent alone. He thinks back to the fear and paranoia that shadowed him for years before he began to drown himself in his videos. He thinks about these humans who, in just a few months, had managed to drag the worst parts of himself out and love him for his deep flaws anyways.
He hears Elias’s chuckle. “It had a learning curve.”
Ryan is kept from replying when the door was slammed open. He didn’t even bother sitting up, he already knew it was Kory and Damien returning, no one made an entrance like Kory. He listened for a bit as Damien scolded her as he inspected the wall behind the door and Elias placated him. He looks at the three of them, Kory blowing a raspberry at Damien's scolding but also promising to fix the hole later. Damien rolling his eyes and fondly telling her tape and hot glue isn’t going to cover it. And Elias, who catches his eye as he shrugs at their antics, laughing at whatever Kory responded with.
Something warm swells in his chest. Something protective. He loved this trio of idiots, more than he’d probably ever tell them. The feeling reminded him of home. Of his guardian. He didn’t think he’d ever feel this way again.
He finds himself relaxing into the bed, letting the weight of Cornchip and the sounds of his friends lull him. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to really let go of what happened, there was too much weight. But he thinks as he cracks an eye to see the three quietly creeping away from the door before closing it again, he’s lucky he found people willing to keep him from drowning when the weight of what happened began to suffocate him. He chuffs when he feels the weight of a blanket being draped on top of him and he hears someone coo at the sound.
Just as he would do the same for them, they were connected after all. In more ways than just the heart. His pack. Their family. As it would always be.