Panic Relief

He couldn't breathe.

Someone was holding his head under the water no matter how much he tried to fight them.

If he carried on struggling, his lungs would give up faster, but if he didn't struggle, there would be no way of saving himself.

A thick python gradually tightened its grip around his throat with every breath as the water filled his lungs and he began to sink.

Black dots speckled his blurred vision as he began to say goodbye to air and he couldn't feel his own hands trying to release the grasp around his throat.

This was Fred's panic attack once he had left the hall with Victoire.

"They… can't… know…. oh god," he panted.

Victoire patted his head gently and said soothing words to him like she usually did, but this was the worst panic attack he had ever had. No amount of breathing techniques or picturing green grassy meadows was going to help him as the torturous sensation devoured him. He became too weak to stand as he could no longer fight for air and his eyelids began to close.

"Just get him that old scarf he sleeps with after you've let them know he's going to be okay," Lucas's voice faded in as Fred woke up.

His cold feeble body was wrapped in a cloud soft blanket that gave feeling back to his limbs and instead of his robes, he was dressed in an oversized grey knitted sweater with holes in and a pair of black shorts. Slowly, he sat up to find himself tucked into a burgundy dressed bed in a minimalist bedroom with a cream dresser, a matching side table and a burgundy vase containing bluebells. The material walls let him know that he was no longer in the castle. He had stolen a tent from Grandad Arthur that was bigger on the inside so he could hang out with his friends anywhere at any time in somewhere that was always cosy and warm. The tent contained a bedroom, a bathroom, and a front room with cupboards full of snacks.

Lucas stirred a mug of spice scented liquid and blew on it as he gently placed his hand behind Fred's head, "Drink this, Freddie."

Without questioning what he was being given, Fred slurped up the liquid, the spices sending a buzz through his lips and awakening his mouth as it swirled over his tongue and down his throat. Panic still lingered inside as he remembered what lead to him fainting.

"They know I'm gay," his voice was unsteady as Lucas put the mug down,

"Yeah, they do," Lucas's voice wasn't as hard as usual.

The panic threatened to suffocate him again as a chill began to take over despite all the warmth. But Lucas fought it away by gently brushing his skin with a hot cloth and soothingly shushing him as if able to hear the loud chaos stamping through his mind.

"I didn't want-"

"I know."

Lucas handed Fred the mug of soothing liquid. There was a silence between the two of them for a couple of minutes, but it didn't feel awkward as it seemed Lucas knew all Fred needed was someone to just be with him.

"How do you know about the scarf?" Fred finally asked,

"I keep telling you that I know more about you than you think. I remember at Aaron's sleepover, you put it under your pillow hoping no one would see," Lucas smiled,

"But you did."

Lucas nodded as he ran his hand through Fred's hair. Panic was being erased and replaced by a warm, comforting, but shy feeling that Lucas ignited in him. He wasn't sure if the drink even contributed to his recovery or if it was simply Lucas's presence that made him feel better.

Taking Fred's hand, Lucas looked into his eyes, "Being gay isn't bad,"

"Maybe. But it's another bullet for people like Alodie or that damn Humphrey to load their guns with," Fred looked down at the brown slightly translucent liquid,

"And them jakey stoters can pog mo thoin!"

Though Fred had no idea what Lucas said, his defensive nature over him made him blush.

"Sorry, that means those scummy idiots can kiss my ass. But seriously Freddie, I accept you just the way you are, hell, I wouldn't have you any other way, okay?"

Hearing such words come from Lucas played with Fred's already unstable emotions and without any warning, he began to tear up. He had heard such words from Victoire, Albus and his other mates, but the words leaving Lucas's lips made their hit more impactful. As the tears fell, his forehead landed on Lucas's shoulder so he could cover up his rosy cheeks of embarrassment.

"Don't cry," Lucas carefully said,

"I can't help it," Fred sniffed,

"It's easy to console Victoire, but I can't take your tears,"

"Well, if you know a way of making it stop, please tell me."

Fred lifted his head as he sniffed and tried to wipe away his tears with the sleeves of the grey jumper. He could feel Lucas's eyes on him, and he couldn't help but meet them and fall into their seductive blue trap. Delicately, Lucas used his finger to wipe away a falling tear from Fred's cheek and grinned at their growing redness. The tension Fred felt was too much for his flipflopping stomach as he could only think about pressing his lips against Lucas's and falling into his arms with the wish of them to never let him go. Lucas's husky and slightly floral scent dominated Fred's nose and he could almost taste it on his tongue, making him want to be even closer to him. Heat overcame him as if it was the height of summer, his heart pounded hard enough to make his body throb and his breath shortened, but the feeling was welcomed. Maybe Lucas can feel it too. A stupid brief thought that Fred dismissed. Lucas was the lady's man who was way out of his league, even if he did swing the same way. All he could do was imagine and allow him to hug him and stroke his cheek despite how much it drove him crazy.

"That's the last tear," Lucas whispered,

"Thanks to you."

With little control over his body, Fred moved closer making sure to leave enough space between their lips, but still being able to feel Lucas's breath. This was a dangerous game that was going to get him hurt, but he couldn't help but play and hope that the pain wouldn't be too much for him to handle. Lucas gulped as his eyes travelled down to Fred's lips. Was he teasing him?

"You should erm," Lucas pulled himself away, stood up and cleared his throat while fixing his hair, "get more rest; you tend to be very lightheaded after a panic attack."

As expected, Lucas was taking advantage of Fred's vulnerability. He didn't know why he was so disappointed as if he thought anything else would happen. With a pout, he sat back in the bed and reached for the mug while watching Lucas tie is hair into a bun.

"Who changed me?"

There was a shyness in Lucas's face as he turned around, "I wouldn't do it without Victoire's permission,"

"Have fun, did you?"

"Stop it," Lucas's cheek went pink, something Fred had never seen before, "I only changed you into my jumper; Victoire and Brea changed you into the shorts."

Lucas began to tidy up and gather his things. Fred wanted to beg him not to go, to stay by his side until morning and run his fingers through his hair while whispering to him in his dreamy voice. In a perfect world, he'd be able to hold Lucas all night, take in his scent, the feeling of his smooth skin and open his eyes knowing the first thing he'd see would be the sunlight bouncing off of his golden-brown hair. But he had made his peace with this not being that world. Instead, he began fiddling with the sleeves of the jumper, embracing its softness and warmth as he buried his nose into the material.

"You can keep that," Lucas smiled.

Gazing up at him, Fred retuned the same comforting smile, but after a couple of seconds, he had to pull his eyes away knowing that the longer he stared, the harder it would be to stop. Only Lucas could make him feel anxiety and ease, shy and brave and completely infatuated, and he was beginning to hate it. It wasn't fair to yearn for someone who would never even blink twice at him and he regularly wished on random stars that one day he'd wake up and be relieved of such a crushing weight.

"I'll be staying in the main room all night, okay?"

Fred nodded as he tucked himself underneath the covers and closed his eyes at Lucas's final words, "sleep well, mo ghràdh."