Work Text:
Oh my god, finally, I’m home from school. Today's been quite the day.
In class this morning, Zuka had one of his episodes. He told me he had heard lots of whispers and everything was spinning and people’s voices were ringing in his ears, which led to him feeling very overstimulated. He was a little snappy with me but eventually apologized and I think he spent most of his time in the counselor's office. Of course, naturally, I worried about him for the rest of the day. Well, I mean, I always worry and care for him of course, I love him so much, but I’m talking like… overthinking every little thing that might happen to him, can’t focus in any class, slightly nauseous and shaky kind of worry. Ugh.
But putting all my problems aside, I really hope he’s doing okay. I’ve checked in with him about… 6 times in the past few hours? Perhaps I’m being overbearing, but I merely need reassurance that he’s okay and knows he’s not alone and I love him and care for him and worry for him and-
Bzzzzz Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzz
I hear my phone going off on my bed. I sit down and pick it up to see an incoming FaceTime call from… Zuka!!! My baby! My angel! I hit accept and greet him with the biggest smile.
“Hiii Zuks! Are you doing any better?”
“Mmm sorta…”
“O-oh… uhmm, what’s the matter?”
“Just tired from y’know…” He yawns, “this morning or whatever…”
He’s usually monotone, but this time it’s like slightly more monotonous and tired and exhausted than normal (subtle and unimportant, but if I miss any small change the world will explode). I don’t blame him for it; to be honest I’m worn out, too. An idea pops in my head.
“Maybe you can come over, or I can, and we can nap together? If you want to, of course, I don’t want to cause any trouble!”
He’s silent for a moment, then speaks up, “No, I don't really want physical contact right now. Plus, it’s raining hard, I’m not confident driving in that weather yet.”
I glance at my window to see it covered in water droplets and the sky is grey. I guess I was so worried about Zuka I didn’t even realize it was raining. Wait… rain + dark sky = …storms.
“Oh, yeah, right...! I really hope it doesn’t storm, that would be bad…” I instinctively chew my nails, trying to distract myself from my nervousness.
“I don’t mean to be that guy but… it will. I saw it in the forecast.”
Shit.
Zuka can tell I’m going to freak out, which is why he immediately adds on with, “How about we sleep on call together? You can pretend I’m here or something.”
That’s not a bad idea. I need new coping mechanisms for my astraphobia anyway.
“Uhhh sure, we can try that!”
I turn my lights off, close my blinds, and get comfortable in my bed. I can hear Zuka is doing the same. We both turn our cameras off. I really hope this helps.
He yawns again, “Text me when you wake up. I shouldn’t be out for too long, maybe... 2-3 hours? Who knows.”
A few hours. I can do this.
“Hmmm, well, goodnight for now… Love you, tapli…”
“Goodnight, love you, too..!”
Silence, except the rain. I shut my eyes and try to block it out, ignoring my increasing heartbeat. Hugging my plushie tight, I try to imagine it as Zuka. I’m holding him, he’s here right now, he loves me and he’s protecting me and I’m protecting him. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
BOOM.
I can’t fucking do this.
The thunder makes me jump. My breathing gets heavy and my heart races. Why? Why now? I just want a break, please! I don’t want Zuka to hear me, so I mute myself. I feel so bad for not sleeping with him like I said I would, but oh my god this is not going to work. I check the time; only 5 minutes have passed. I can’t even last 5 fucking minutes. Ugh. My sister leaves for work in like 10 so I can’t hang around her for safety and comfort. Uuugghhhhhhhh…
I’m sitting up now, but my whole body is trembling. The thunder only gets louder and I can see lightning faintly flash into my room. This is such a childish fear. Why can’t I sleep through these things? Why can’t I simply appreciate this form of nature and ignore it? But instead it fills my body with so much fear and anxiety, I feel like I’m under attack. My brain plays all these tricks on me and makes me think things are being thrown and people are getting tortured and it’s the screams of agony. It hurts so bad.
I check my watch for my heart rate.
135 bpm…
142 bpm…
150 bpm…
God… make it stop, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!
All I can do is sit, shake, and try with the little strength that I have to catch my breath. I’m so scared… I wonder if Oregano’s scared, too… He’s not a fan of storms either…
Oregano…
OREGANO!
I look over at his crate and notice that he’s playing dead, probably from all the loud sounds. I want to get up and grab him but I can’t get myself to move. My body is so shaken and frozen… and so is he… Oregano… my poor baby… he’s so terrified… he needs me…
Minutes pass. I can’t stand it anymore. I force myself to get up, my body shudders and I’m struggling to breathe, but I must be with my baby. I gently pick Oregano up and set him on my bed. I lie down facing him. It makes me tear up seeing how petrified he is. At least somebody is as afraid as I am… In an attempt to calm down, I decide to try to name things I can sense; sometimes it helps.
Taste: My dry mouth… Mm…
Hear: The rain. My hyperventilation. Ugh… But also, the quiet sound of Zuka’s breathing. It’s cute.
See: Oregano. He’s curled up and frozen and frightened. I look down at myself and see I’m also curled up and frozen and frightened.
Smell: Again, Oregano. He stinks all the time no matter how much I bathe him. I don’t smell bad… but maybe I do have a hint of animal on me.
Feel: I shakily pet Oregano. His fur is very stiff from the shock. I feel my arms. My hair is also stiff and covered in goosebumps.
My heart rate has gone down slightly. I’m still panicking, but I think I can safely conclude that… I’m an opossum, too. I fear too many things and I play dead when threatened to protect myself, but inside I’m terrified and don’t know what to do. Oregano was abandoned and hurt and I adopted him, the same way I was abandoned and hurt and got adopted. Oregano and I… we’re the exact same. If soulmates exist for pets, then that’s what we are.
I’ll just play dead forever and everything will be okay.
…
BOOOOOOOOOMMMM
I flinch hard.
You’ve actually got to be kidding me.
I thought I could do it. I thought this was it. I thought I could have peace. But no… Here I am. While everyone in the world sleeps soundly and goes on about their day, I’m here in shock and anxiety and pain over some rain and thunder. Fuck everything. My heart races faster. All this panic is making me sweat and my stomach spin. My fingers are already in my mouth, tearing away at my nails until they bleed. An hour has passed yet I’m still not asleep.
It’s at this moment that I really need someone. I need Zuka.
I miss his touch, his presence, his comfort. I want him to hold me and tell me it’ll be okay and run his hands through my hair even though he doesn’t like the way it feels and protect me from all these sounds and vibrations and kiss my face. Or maybe I need my mom. I need them both so bad. They make me feel safe. I crave safety.
Tap, tap, tap, tttaaappttapttaapptappp
Hail hits my window jarringly. I can’t take it anymore.
BBBBBBBBOOOMM
Please, someone, help me…
CRAACK
Thunder, lightning, hail, rain, wind, it only just keeps getting louder and bigger and stronger and faster.
There's nothing I can do anymore except lie here. My body trembles. My nerves act up. My heart pounds fast. My chest rises at alarming rates. My fingers sting. My head hurts. My room spins. My throat aches. My mouth waters. My stomach spins and turns and moves and throbs and… stops. The side of my face is… wet. My pillow and bedsheets are… wet. I feel like I’ve been shocked awake. I’m able to move myself up a bit. I look down.
A pool of vomit.
Sitting there, waiting for me to clean it up.
It got on Oregano. It woke him out of his shock. He stares at me.
And all I can do is cry.
And cry and cry and cry and cry and cry. My face is soaked. I can’t stop. I hyperventilate and shake and panic even more than before. I don’t care about the storm anymore, but how I even let this happen. How it got to this point.
I jerk my head. And again and again and again. I click. And click and click and click and jerk my head some more. Fuck. FUCK. MAKE IT STOP!! MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!
But then I hear,
“Asher? Hello? Are you okay? What’s happening?”
It’s Zuka.
I look at my phone. Oregano’s paw is sitting right on the unmute button. Oh my god. He can hear me. He can hear this disgusting state I’m in. No. No no no no no…
“I uhm- ghh... urghh… one.. o-one second…” I can hardly speak.
“What the hell is going on?!! Is everything okay??”
I keep looking down at the contents that came out of me. Why. Why why why why. Fuck. Fuck fuckfhrrjdnudnskssvskb
“H-hol… hold on I’m… I need to… to… to-”
…
I did it again.
More vomit. On me this time.
“……….jandaba.”
I don’t know what that means. I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know what to do. I uncontrollably cry more. And more. And more. And louder. And heavier. And-
He hangs up.
…
Look what I’ve done.
LOOK WHAT I’VE DONE.
I’m such a mess, I’m so disgusting, I’m so gross, I’ve gone past all possible boundaries with him and now he’s left me. Why. WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY!!!!!!!!!!! Here I am, sitting in my own throw up and sobbing and hyperventilating and ticking out and curling up again. I’m a fucking baby. I’M LITERALLY A FUCKING BABY RIGHT NOW. ALL BECAUSE I CAN’T GET OVER MY STUPID ASS FEAR OF STORMS. BECAUSE I WAS CURSED WITH ANXIETY OF ALL THINGS. BECAUSE I'M CHILDISH AND SENSITIVE AND WEAK AND WILL NEVER MAN UP TO ANYTHING. BECAUSE MY PARENTS THOUGHT BEATING ME WAS THE GREATEST IDEA EVER. BECAUSE I FUCKING EXIST.
The crying is beginning to burn my eyes. I’m choking on my own spit. My mouth tastes so gross. I’m so lightheaded I can hardly breathe at all. I’m going to pass out if this keeps up. My tics or twitches or whatever the hell they are won’t stop. Oregano has run off somewhere. My clothes and bed are stained and yucky.
Bzzzzz
My god… what has my life gotten into…
Bzzzzzz
What have I d- … wait…
Bzzzzzzzzzz
…is that..?
My phone.
Zuka is calling.
ZUKA IS CALLING.
I pick up with no hesitation. Words are hard. I’m struggling to even sound audible without sobs and gasps and clicks.
“Asher? Come open your door.”
Huh…??
“I’m at your house, come unlock the door.”
Zuka’s at my house.
ZUKA’S AT MY HOUSE.
In a matter of seconds, I levitate straight out of my bed. The puddle that is on me spills to the floor. I gag. This is so nasty. He can’t see me like this. He’s gonna be so grossed out. Why did I pick up? Why am I walking away from my bed? Why am I going downstairs? I almost stumble and fall. This is baby behavior. Once I reach the door, my hand freezes up at the knob. My vision is blurry from all my hot tears. I try but fail to take a deep breath. I’m ready for the worst. I’m ready for him to get grossed out and lose his mind and run away and never talk to me again. I turn the knob and open the door. I wait for the freak out, but to my surprise… he looks the same as he always does. He eyes me up and down.
And then he hugs me.
He hugs me tight.
Hugs me tight despite the wet vomit stains on my clothes, despite my whole face being drenched and red, despite my inability to breathe correctly, despite how embarrassed I am, despite my inconsistent tics, despite my bleeding nails, despite him not wanting physical contact, despite him already having a horrible day, despite the raging storm outside that I’m stupidly scared of and he didn’t want to drive in… despite everything…
He still hugs me.
I shakily hug him back. I shove my face in his neck.
And this time, I scream.
I scream and scream and scream and scream while more sobs rapidly escape me.
Instead of a baby, I feel like I’m 8. Screaming and crying to protect myself from the hell that I was in, hardly being able to move or control myself or breathe from all the pain. Weak and inferior. Wanting nothing but love and safety. But even while he gives all that to me, I bite my cheeks from how bad I feel. He shouldn’t have to be burdened with these problems; he shouldn’t have to put up with an almost 16-year-old acting like a filthy, wimpy, crybaby child. He’s too perfect, too mature, too much going on in his life already.
A few seconds pass and he gently lets go. I think he realizes there’s no time for me and how I’m acting isn’t okay… He holds my shoulders. He makes direct eye contact with me, something he only does when it gets serious.
I’m prepared to be scolded. To be shamed. To be yelled at. For everything. Everything I deserve.
Zuka wipes my tears.
“Let me clean you up…”
And I instantly freeze like the opossum I am.
~
Sssshhhhhh
Warm and soothing water flows down my body. It washes away all the ick, the gross, the dirty, the everything that plagues me. Zuka gently scrubs me with soap. He’s so delicate around all my sensitive areas. Even with how vulnerable and exposed I am right now, he still makes me feel so secure. My brain is fuzzy from how captivated I am by him. He cleans my hair, which he hates the texture of so much but touches it anyway, I don’t know why. I’m still playing dead because after the shit I just endured, all this affection has shaken me to my core. Zuka knows, but he also knows I’m okay with him taking care of me like this, even if I can’t form a coherent sentence.
He wraps a towel around me carefully to dry off and- Woah! I am lifted off my feet. He carries me like a newborn, but instead of feeling bad about it, I feel… safe and loved and adored. I wrap my arms around him and lean into his chest. He’s so warm. He’s so sweet. I’m his baby. God, I’m his fucking baby and I love it.
Once in my room, I change into new clothes and take my meds. Zuka cleans the mess off my bed and floor and strips my sheets and takes them to the washer and finds Oregano and wipes him up and makes my bed and sits me down to dry my hair and put my products in it.
He does so much for me. And I’m not doing anything.
“Zuka… I-I.. I’m s-”
He puts his finger on my lips, hushing me.
“Shhh, there’s nothing to apologize for, okay?”
I hesitantly nod.
“If anything, I’m sorry. I should’ve come over to begin with, I knew how you are with storms but I cared more about myself…”
What? Why is he apologizing?! I grab his hand.
“N-no… It’s fine… I owe you so much for this-”
“You don’t owe me anything. I do these things because you deserve it and I love you, Asher.”
…I can’t respond. I can only stare and let tears fall down my face. These things are so hard to accept sometimes, but maybe… just maybe it’s true. Zuka has never lied to me once and it gets proven every time… maybe I can allow this to be one of those times.
He lies down and holds his arms out, inviting me to rest on him, which I do. He holds me tight like before and kisses my forehead and rubs my back and caresses my hair. I start to doze off. Finally, peace.
“Everything will be okay…”
It will. It really will. I believe it now. I cling to him like a baby opossum on its mother's back.
Because that’s what I am.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
