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Living in the human realm with all of his friends is very fun for Hunter. It’s a wonderful experience, and truly he loves it. He loves the freedom he has and the opportunities his friends give him. Ms. Noceda is welcoming and kind in a way he’s never known adults to be, which is deeply comforting. She feeds him, and even lets him pick what they eat sometimes.
But it isn’t all perfect. The noise he finds so fun and assuring can easily become too much for him. Sometimes the food is too rich or flavorful, something he never thought he would take issue with, and he can’t handle it. All the different textures can become far too much for him, and the choosing between them is overwhelming. Getting dressed in the morning requires a lot of thought and trying different shirts. Then there’s the actual noise. The sounds. There are so many here, and they tend to overlap and crescendo in a way which makes his skin crawl.
It doesn’t take much, here, to send him over the edge. This is incredibly inconvenient, especially since he doesn’t have his mask to hide behind or his duties to distract him.
He tries, he really, really does, but sometimes it just cannot be done. He’s reaching that point now, where he will be unable to keep from breaking down.
His friends are entirely too excited about their night alone. Ms. Noceda is away for the night at some veterinary conference, leaving the kids to fend for themselves. Not really, as she’s not that far and could come back fairly easily should they need her, but alone enough that everyone is acting as though it’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to them. Hunter doesn’t understand them. He’s been alone so many times, so many nights, this is hardly anything new for him.
He’s been getting kind of used to his routine with Luz’s mom, though, and he misses her a bit. He really misses her tight control of the house. The volume control specifically.
He can feel his hackles rising within the first few minutes of trying to pick a movie. He has absolutely no preference himself, because none of his favorites are on the table and will not be accepted if proposed, so he’s merely an unwilling listener. The others are damn near fighting over what to watch, and the shouting is almost frightening. He’s been in a lot of screaming matches before. Or, not in, but in the middle of. Terrible memories lap at the edges of his mind, and forcing them away is not something he’s ever been especially good at. Managing his reactions, sometimes, but not always, and there’s no escape here. Should he attempt to hide, they will come looking.
Gus, who is similarly disinterested in the choices before him, throws a thick blanket over his and Hunter’s laps. His thigh is warm against Hunter, and normally he wouldn’t think about the contact at all, but now it’s almost burning him. Intense and uncomfortable. The blanket is too heavy, and the half of it that’s facing up is made of that disgusting wool adjacent material that he’s realizing he hates. It sticks to his hands weird.
The girls get louder all of a sudden, and he winces. The overlapping voices are too hard to distinguish and become one loud sound, much like every coven head meeting he’s ever been forced to attend.
He’s officially scared.
It’s too loud, and the blanket is too heavy, and the material is sticking to his hands, and he’s too warm, and Ms. Noceda isn’t here, and there’s a fight going on, and he can’t breathe, and Gus is still touching him. It’s horrible and scary and he can’t do it anymore. So he claps his hands over his ears and shuts his eyes. He wants to scream and cry, but he stays silent, because that is the best way to stay safe.
A hand lands on his shoulder, and he flinches, despite his efforts. There’s a lighter pressure on his other side, and something mildly sharp pokes at his hand.
The noise is quieter, but it’s not enough. The fact that there’s any noise at all is just too much.
Then all the pressure is removed. The blanket, the hand, Gus’ thigh, even whatever is on his other shoulder. It’s not enough, but it’s something and it helps. It doesn’t last, though, because someone’s hands take his, attempting to gently untangle his fingers from his hair. He hadn’t even realized how hard he’d been gripping it, before. It stings, not that he’s noticed.
“Hunter,” someone says, right by his ear. “Can you hear me?” He gives them a short, tight nod, because there’s nothing worse than not answering a question. “I understand you’re overwhelmed, and if you need a break you can have one, but we need to know you’re ok, first. Ok?” Another nod. “Please open your eyes.” He does, reluctantly, because that was not a request, it was an order. “Good, so good.” He’s met with a phone in his face, Ms. Noceda on the screen. She’s smiling, but she looks very concerned. “Can you tell me what’s happening?”
Hunter tries to open his mouth, but it’s like it’s been filled with glue or wired shut. He shakes his head, terrified of what will become of his disobedience, even if it’s just Luz’s mom.
“That’s alright. Do you know if it was a panic attack or just overwhelm?” Calling it ‘just overwhelm’ feels rather belittling. Overwhelm is just as debilitating as a panic attack. But that doesn’t matter and Hunter would rather die than correct an adult. Unfortunately for him, his issue is both. He swallows thickly and nods. “Could you show me one for panic and two for overwhelm?” He holds up his hands, one with a single finger and the other with two. Ms. Noceda hums. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Why don’t we get your breathing under control and then you can go somewhere to take a nice break, hm?” Hunter nods.
So Ms. Noceda guides him through his breathing exercises, the ones Gus introduced him to, and it makes him feel better already. With his breathing calm, the rest of the world seems a little more bearable. Still overwhelming, but not quite so terribly.
“You’re doing so well,” Ms. Noceda praises. Hunter would normally rise to that type of encouragement, but he can’t find it in himself to do so now. “Do you need me to come home?”
“No,” he replies, voice sticky. “I’m ok. It was just-” He glances at Luz, whos’ holding the phone. He doesn’t want to make her feel guilty. “It’s ok now.” Ms. Noceda looks unconvinced for the most part, but not so much so that she will go against his word.
“Alright, baby,” she finally says. “Luz will call me again if you need me, ok?” He nods. “Alright. Have a good night.”
“Good night,” he mumbles back. Luz hangs up.
“Do you still need a break?” she asks. “It’s ok if you do, we won’t mind. Sorry we were yelling. I think that’s what did it, wasn’t it.”
“Yeah, I still need a break,” Hunter whispers. He stands, wrapping his arms around his torso. “You guys should pick a movie and I’ll come back in a little bit.” She nods, and he avoids looking at her guilty face. He doesn’t know where the others got off to, but he doesn’t see them on the way to the basement, where he shuts off the lights and wraps himself all the way to his face in his favorite blanket.
In a few minutes, maybe thirty or so, he will return upstairs, this time with his own blanket, to watch whatever movie the girls settle on, but for now he closes his eyes and simply breathes.
In, out, in, out. Safe, calm, and alone.