I decided to turn this into a short, multi-chapter story instead of a one shot. More Writing Therapy for me. Weeee! This one is DEFINITELY not edited. At. All. I'm in a bad mood, and I'm tired, so grammar and proper punctuation is out of the equation at the moment. Sorry.
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Hiro Hamada blinked his eyes open and the first thing he saw was not the ceiling of his and Tadashi's room, but the ceiling of the living room. He gave a content sigh and stretched; well, attempted to stretch. He found he was restrained somewhat, something not necessarily heavy, but more weight than his blanket, was on him. He moved to look at what was draped across his waist and came face to face with a sleeping Tadashi. He was confused for a moment, couldn't remember why he was asleep in the living room with Tadashi.
Then he remembered; his panic attack.
Hiro let out a disappointed sigh, disappointed at himself. He tried so hard to keep his attacks a secret. Now, like the cat, it's out of the bag.
Deciding to push those thoughts aside for now, he glanced around to the clock, taking note that it was dark outside. They closed their eyes for a catnap, then end up sleeping for nine hours.
He shifted to grab the remote off the coffee table, but ended up waking his brother.
"I didn't mean to wake you up." Hiro muttered, voice volume just above that of a whisper.
Tadashi looked at him for a second, registering that he spoke, and then gave a small, tired smile. "You didn't wake me up."
Hiro gave him a look. "You've been asleep since I woke up, like, five minutes ago."
"Been dozing in and out fro a while now." Was the elder's response. Tadashi sat up carefully, trying not to squish his brother. How they ended up tangled on the chair was behind their tired minds' comprehension at the moment. When he was sitting up, he looked at Hiro.
"I'm fine." Hiro half-heartedly snapped. He knew what his older brother was going to ask.
Brown eyes narrowed at the smaller boy. "Don't get snippy. I didn't know you suffered from anxiety attacks." Tadashi's voice softened.
Hiro looked away and shrugged.
"That's not a response for anything I just said."
"I don't want to talk about this."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't."
Tadashi let Hiro flip on the TV and they fell into silence for a while before Tadashi broke it. "Want something to eat?" He asked.
Another Hiro shrug.
Tadashi rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm making something to eat." He untangled the blanket from himself and stood up to go into the kitchen to make himself, and Hiro because he honestly was always hungry, some noodles. "Let me know if you want anything."
The whole twenty minutes it took to make the noodles, Tadashi watched Hiro from the kitchen. The younger was acting completely normal, well, normal for Hiro; he was writing something in his notebook and holding Megabot. 'Must be planning upgrades.' Tadashi pondered as he drained the noodles and added the sauce pack.
A huff from Hiro caught the elder's attention.
"That'd never work." Was all the younger muttered before scratching something off on his paper.
The 21 year old smiled at his brother, placing the noodles on plates and taking them into the living room. "Here." He sat one of the plates in front of Hiro and sat back down in the chair.
"Big butt, there's a couch, right there." Hiro pointed out, in his normal attitude.
The elder shrugged. "Butt's too big, can't get up. We're stuck here." He added to the joke slash insult.
A roll of brown eyes was all that Tadashi got in response before they fell into silence once more, with the occasional slurp of noodles and the TV show in the background.
The clock read 11:18 at night when Hiro glanced at it for the umpteenth time that night. He sighed and took another deep breath in.
"I've had them for years." He mumbled to his older brother, who was typing on his laptop while sitting over on the couch instead of the chair. Hiro half-hoped he hadn't heard the statement.
A shade deeper than Hiro's own brown eyes shifted from screen to Hiro and promptly shut the computer. "Why didn't you say anything?" Tadashi's voice was soft, trying not to be intimidating on the sensitive subject.
Hiro shrugged, but knowing full well why.
And Tadashi did too, if the look Hiro was receiving was anything to go by.
"You and Aunt Cass have real things to worry about." The 14 year old looked away.
Tadashi shook his head. "That didn't make a single sense."
"Yeah, it did." Hiro countered.
"No, yes, it made sense, but Aunt Cass and I having things to worry about does not mean you can't come talk to use about what you're worried about." The older Hamada told him. "Why do you think that?"
"All I do is sit around here. All day, everyday. Doing nothing that contributes to anyone or anything. And when something does contribute, its normally just for my benefit and illegalness." Hiro began. "Aunt Cass has the café to worry about, and you have your school to worry about. I shouldn't have anything."
Tadashi scooted closer to his brother, but stayed on the couch. "Everyone worries about things. Even though you're saying they're not important, does not mean they're not important."
Hiro fell quiet.
"Do you want to talk about them?"
The question hung in the air like a fog in Hiro's eyes. On one hand, he did want to talk about them, but the other hand, he didn't want to talk. Talking meant he actually had to acknowledge them, the more real they would feel. He was completely fine ignoring them until they bubbled over the surface, then the pot would empty and the ignoring would start all over again.
Hiro shrugged.
The elder let out a sigh. "That's still not an answer."
Hiro finally looked back up to meet the other's eyes. "I don't know. I want to talk about it, but then again, I really don't." He leaned back and slid down in the chair in the same manner a teen bored in class would.
Slight understanding shone in Tadashi's eyes as he tried to mentally plan out how to turn the conversation so his brother would talk to him. "Why don't you want to?"
"Makes it more real." Was the mumbled response he received.
"You don't want it to be real?" He rested his arm against the side of the couch.
Hiro shrugged, again. "It's easier to ignore it when I don't acknowledge it."
"But talking about it may make it a little better. Maybe even easier that it is to just ignore it."
"Maybe. Maybe not." Hiro replied reaching for the TV remote. He was finished with this conversation.
But Tadashi reached it first; he was closer to it after all. "Hiro." He said in an almost warning tone.
"What?" Hiro suddenly straightened up. "What do you want me to say about this? I don't like feeling this way; it's most defiantly not a walk in the park with roses. I don't appreciate waking up in the morning and being greeted with an anxiety attack, I also don't like ending my day with them." He ranted. "It sucks knowing I can be completely relaxed, doing something that I find fun, like I was doing earlier, and then suddenly having a panic attack."
"Hiro-" Tadashi tried in a gentler voice.
"No! You wanted me to talk, so let me talk." The younger snapped. "I hate knowing that at some point in my day, that something, something most likely very, very small, is going to set me off. In fact, most of the time, I have no idea what sets me off. Like today! I wasn't doing anything but watching a show and working on upgrade planning and bam! Anxiety attack. But of course, it decided to upgrade itself into a panic attack. Then you walk in and – do you know how hard I've worked at keeping this to myself? How many times I've had to get up and leave a room and freak out in peace?"
Hiro was shaking now. He's always wondered what it'd be like to talk to someone about this. But he didn't expect himself to react like that. He had imagined a nice sit-down with whoever he'd be talking to, having a one-on-one deep conversation about when it all started, what it feels like, possible ways to slowly work on overcoming his anxiety.
He didn't realize he was a bomb.
"Hiro." His older brother broke through his loud rambling. Hiro hadn't even realized they were both standing up now, Tadashi pulling him into his arms.
"I don't like it." Hiro finished lamely into his brother's chest, trying to hold back frustrated tears.
"Shh." The older Hamada gently shushed when he heard his little brother sniffle. He leaned his head on top of Hiro's as they stood there, that's when he noticed their aunt standing in the doorway to the living room. She had a concerned look on her face. He had no idea how long she had been standing there.
She met his eyes and held them there for a few seconds before he shook his head, silently telling her not to worry; he's got this.
Maybe. Hopefully. Probably not.
