Hiro Hamada, fourteen-year-old high school graduate, had the house to himself all day; his aunt was busy being swamped in the café, and his older brother, Tadashi, was stuck at school. It was rare for him to be alone in the house without being bothered by anyone for a while. The best way, he decided, to spend his time was in front of the TV for a DVR marathon. All the shows he recorded were patiently waiting for him to watch them. He grabbed a bag full of gummy bears and a glass of juice and flopped on the chair.
It was a little after one when it started, the tightness in his chest. Now, he was no stranger to this feeling, he's had them for years, it's happened everyday. Normally he tries to ignore it, distract his mind from the thoughts waking up in his mind. Usually, it worked.
He picked up his notebook and started doodling possible battle bots and upgrades for Megabot. Sketches of never-going-to-work inventions, inventions that would be great for a sci-fi book or movie, but never work in the real world. He even tried to concentrate on his show, one of those primetime shows he had somehow gotten hooked on.
But the tightness continued to claw at his chest, putting imaginary pressure on his lungs and as a result, his breath shortened and quickened. His heart pounded against his rib cage, seemingly racing the thoughts that ran laps in his mind.
The biggest thought stood out: distraction wasn't working this time, the anxiety attack upgrading itself to a minor panic.
'You're fine, you're fine.' The rational part of his mind attempted to calm the irrational. He flung the blanket off his body when he started feeling too warm, his uncontrollable, internal trembling making him sweat. 'You're okay, you're fine, you're not in danger.'
Irritation laughed in Ration's face.
One hand flew to his chest, a calming quirk he's picked up through the years of this, and he put slight pressure where his hand was, trying to imitate the feeling of a person hugging him. While his other hand was on his forehead as he leaned against the arm of the chair, pushing his bangs back off his face in the process.
'There's no danger here, Hiro.' He tried to mentally tell himself. 'You're just being a baby! There's nothing to be afraid of!' But the self-berating started, and that made them all the worse. 'You need to quick being such a 'fraidy-cat'. What would everyone think if they found out you freak out over anything little thing?'
"Ugh." He groaned to himself as he sat up again, leaning against the back of the seat. He always hated the panic attacks more than his normal anxiety ones. The thoughts during his panic times were more vicious and mean to himself rather than the non-existent threat. They tried to tear him down when he was already low enough, degrade him for feeling this way.
'You're not even stressed!' His mind would scream at him at some point in the panic attack. 'Who flips over nothing?' Then he'd compare himself to Tadashi, who was always strong and happy and nice and selfless. While Hiro was usually the opposite, the fourteen-year-old, while was nice and happy most of the time, was not strong – mentally or physically – and could be very selfish. 'Tadashi doesn't crack like this. He's always calm and collected.'
The thoughts continued. And he began to hyperventilate.
His chest started hurting and his already short and quick breaths were shortened even more and quicker ten-fold.
'Calm down! Calm down!' He screamed at himself, knowing full well it wasn't going to work. 'In two three four, hold six seven eight nine, out eleven twelve thirteen. Repeat.' He leaned forward, hand still against his chest but now pulling at his shirt collar, his other hand now gripping the arm of the chair in a death grip.
Hiro was so caught up in his attack and attempts to breathe, he failed to hear someone opening the front door and walking in.
"Hiro?" A masculine voice asked, concern and worry painting the tone of the voice. Sounds of something being practically dropped to the floor, resounded through his head with a solid thud, but Hiro wasn't paying attention. He ignored the voice, and by extension, the person – but not for being rude, but because he couldn't respond.
The person rushed over to him, kneeling on the floor when they reached his side, to reveal Tadashi, in all his mother-hen worrying glory. "Hiro?" He questioned again, hands fluttering around his little brother's personal space, but not touching the younger Hamada.
"'M fine." Hiro wheezed, still failing at controlling his lungs.
"No, no you're not!" Tadashi placed his hand on Hiro's forehead, but promptly pulled it back when Hiro tensed and jerked away.
"Don't touch." Hiro almost whimpered.
Tadashi held his hands up in a submissive manner. "Okay." He gently said, confused as to why his brother reacted like that. "What's wrong?" His voice dripping with concerned fright.
That sent Hiro back a pace, making him feel worse. And even though he didn't want Tadashi touching him, he didn't mean that he couldn't touch Tadashi. Hiro's hand left the chair's arm to reach out for his brother. While he missed Tadashi's hand, his vision distorted by dizziness, he managed to get a fist full of cardigan and shirt, which he held in a white-knuckled hold. "Can't… Breathe." He managed to get out.
Tadashi flipped. "What?" He leaned closer to his brother, trying to be mindful of his space, but needing to see his face. He had to make sure Hiro wasn't turning blue. "Why not? Are you choking? Did you swallow something? Is this from allergies? Did you eat peanuts again?" Hiro's accidently had peanuts before, after they declared his allergy, and he's had issues breathing, but Hiro himself, has never acted like this during those instances.
Tears leaked out of Hiro's brown eyes, which were currently scrunched closed, as tight as his chest felt. He shook his head slowly. "Anx-anxiety atta-attack."
A small look of relief passed on the older Hamada's face, before worry returned, but not to the degree it was three point seven seconds ago. His little brother had anxiety attacks? It seemed like this wasn't the first one, since he seemed to know what it was. "Can, can I get you something? Water? Tea?" He didn't have much experience with anxiety attacks, just the occasional anxiety for a project or presentation. This, this he didn't know.
Hiro shook his head, keeping a hold of Tadashi. Hiro could feel his brother's heartbeat under his hand, and quickly decided a different approach to a breathing exercise. Breathe in for five beats, hold for seven and release for six.
He could also feel Tadashi trying to talk to him, Hiro wasn't paying attention to catch just what he was saying, but the way Tadashi was speaking softly, he figured it was just trivial statements, probably about his day or what Aunt Cass was making for dinner.
It took another five minutes, but Hiro's breathing was almost back to its normal pace.
"Hiro?" Tadashi gently asked, still kneeling on the floor in front of his littler brother.
The younger hummed in response, refusing to meet his brother's eyes. He's never had an attack in front of someone else before. He's had them for years, but he's always excused himself from the presence of others if the attack was getting intense. He didn't want to bother anyone with his stupid thoughts that were completely irrational. It made him feel worse knowing that there was no danger around him, there never was, but he still felt vulnerable and scared and trapped.
Hiro never told Tadashi or Aunt Cass about his anxiety. They had real things to be troubled about. Aunt Cass had her café, which put, no pun intended, food on their table – the main source of income for the three of them. Tadashi had his schoolwork and projects to pass, and his weekend job that he had to go to. Hiro did nothing all day but tinker with his robots or sleep. He's the one who shouldn't be anxious about anything. They did, they had liable reasons to freak out over practically nothing. If the café is having a slow week, they had less money for that time being. If Tadashi didn't do well on a project, he had the threat of losing his private lab and scholarships and financial aids over his head; or if Tadashi was late to his job, the possibility of being fired.
"Hiro?" Tadashi tried again.
Hiro sighed and slowly looked up to the other.
"Are you okay?" There were unnamable emotions in Tadashi's eyes, as he looked at Hiro.
A curt nod was all Hiro had to say on the matter.
"Wanna talk about it?" The elder moved slightly so that he was now sitting on the floor instead of on his knees. He could see Hiro better that way.
A shake of his head broke Tadashi's heart. He knew Hiro wouldn't want to talk about it; the kid has always been reserved. But he'd hoped, so he could try to understand and help his littler brother somehow. He didn't want to fore Hiro into talking, though, especially right now. So he settled to give an understanding nod and sigh.
The younger scooted over in the overstuffed chair and patted the space next to him, inviting his big brother to sit with him. He didn't have to tell Tadashi twice, who scrambled in to the spot before Hiro changed his mind. When they both got situated, Hiro practically jumped into his nii-san's lap. He leaned his head against Tadashi's shoulder, tired and worn out from the whole experience, even though it only lasted roughly a half hour. Time just seems to slow when he has those.
Hiro closed his eyes, just wanting to rest for a few minutes, but felt something being draped over him and his brother. Cracking one eye open, he saw the blanket he'd thrown off himself earlier, laying over him. A small smile danced across his face as he snuggled into his brother. He was awake long enough to feel Tadashi pull Hiro closer to him and rest his head on Hiro's, both of them completely content with taking a little nap.