***Author's note: trigger warning: Panic attacks, references to rape and suicidal thoughts. ***

Dragging himself to Philosophy was more painful than usual and Carlos slumped into his seat in the corner furthest from the professor. This was the last place any of them wanted to be, but today was worse than usual. He'd been following Evie's instructions on how to handle the rumors. That didn't mean it was easy. Even though there weren't a lot of rumors about him specifically, the ones that were out there were nastier than most of the ones surrounding the rest of his pack… Probably because he was the weakest member. There had to be a reason why they kept him around and the rumors about him explained it. He wasn't stupid. He knew he didn't fit the expectations of someone in Mal's pack. Being the pack-the pack's-their-that made more sense than anything else.

Bile rose in his throat and he tried to swallow around the memory of a cock choking him. No. No. That was years ago. He was fine. Mal had found him. Had killed Jasper. Jay and Evie had hunted Horace down. He was fine. Something touched his arm. Hand flying for his dagger, Carlos jerked away only to meet Mal's gaze.

Eyebrow arching in a silent question, Mal withdrew her hand. Forcing himself to breathe, Carlos nodded. When his leader narrowed her eyes, he nodded again. He was fine. Even if he wasn't, there wasn't anything she could exactly do while they were in class. After a few moments, Mal rolled her eyes and began picking at the grime under her nails. But he knew she was still watching him out of the corner of her eye.

As the rest of the class filed in, chatting and whispering, glancing at him and his pack, Carlos pulled out the book of names he'd checked out during his free period. Not the best distraction, but he still hadn't come up with a name for the dog yet and it felt wrong just referring to him as "the dog". And Carlos refused to give him just any name. He deserved a name. A good name. One that would tell people he was important and had a home. So far, none of the names felt right: Charles, William, Harry–he refused to give the dog the same name as Uma's first mate–, George, Edward, Boris. Maybe he needed a different tactic to find the right name.

The sound of overly polished shoes walking to the front of the room broke through his thoughts. With a grimace, Carlos closed and tucked the book back into his bag as Professor Maguire set his briefcase on the desk and moved to the lectern.

Professor Maguire looked around the room, long fingers folded on the lectern before him. "Today we will begin with an open dialogue exploring the question I write on the board. Afterwards, we will identify which philosophical school of thought each answer best identifies with." Selecting a piece of chalk, the professor turned to the board. "Does living for others make your life have meaning and why?"

Carlos felt the blood drain from his face, stomach threatening to waste his lunch. Gods, he hated his luck.

"Who would like to start?"

Several seconds of silence passed before someone raised their hand. "I don't think it does. If you aren't living for yourself then how can you have any meaning? You wouldn't have any value in who you are."

That didn't make sense. How could someone have meaning if they didn't have any value to begin with? People weren't born with any value. They had to earn that. After all, what value could a baby have? They were just little parasites stealing resources from their mothers until they were old enough to actually be useful. Though, he supposed a royal baby could have some value. Unlike other babies, a royal baby meant the continuation of a country's monarchy.

"I agree," Audrey nodded. "If you're living for others than you're nothing more than a slave or servant to their opinions and requests. You have no identity."

Carlos shrank into his seat. Easy for her to say. The moment she was born she was given an identity. Besides, she was living for her country. That was why her parents had her. Not everyone had that privilege. Some of them weren't supposed to be born in the first place and were lucky to even get an identity like slave. Swallowing against another surge of bile, he picked at the needle tracks on his arm.

"Living for only yourself is rather selfish though, isn't it?" a girl asked, frowning. "Helping others is a noble thing and is incredibly important and meaningful."

Fuck. Fuck his head hurt. Living for yourself wasn't selfish. If someone could live for themselves they were lucky. It was just that some of them had to live for others. Because-because-because if they didn't then they wouldn't have a reason to be alive. And maybe that made him selfish. Maybe staying alive just for his pack made him selfish. But he didn't want to hurt them. He-he couldn't hurt them. Couldn't leave them because…

"Los?"

Was that Jay? Maybe? Everything in his head was too loud; he wasn't sure. Chest aching, he struggled to breathe, lungs refusing to take in air. The world was spinning. It needed to stop spinning before he passed out.

"Mr. de Vil. I would quite appreciate your attention focused on my class."

Whoever was talking wasn't happy. Breathe. Breathe. He needed to breathe. Had to get it together. He was in class and…

He was in class.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no no.

Heels clicked towards him.

She was mad. He'd messed up. She was going to throw him to Jasper and Horace. They were going to…

NO.

Adrenaline surging, Carlos bolted, darting easily past the tall figure stalking towards him and out the door. People shouted after him, ordering him to stop; he went faster. He couldn't let them catch him. If they caught him it would hurt. They'd take him away from his pack.

"Oooff!"

Reeling, Carlos staggered away from the person he'd slammed into. Where? What? Who? Before he could catch his balance, a hand gripped his arm.

"Carlos? You good?"

With a strangled sob, he pulled uselessly against the firm grasp, vision too blurry to make out who it was. A warm, soft thing brushed against his leg and something wet lapped at his hand. Checkers. The dog. They were here. His legs gave out and the person still holding his arm helped lower him to the ground where he reached out for the two animals.

"Eugene, what's happening?" a new voice asked as Checkers climbed into his lap and the dog licked his cheek.

The person let him go and turned to talk to the other person, but Carlos ignored them, burying his face in Checkers's fur. After a few more words, the second person left, leaving him alone with the one he'd run into.

"Okay. Okay, Carlos. Think you can breathe for me? Just a couple deep breaths."

Shaking his head, Carlos shied away when fingers brushed his arm. Instead of trying again, the person dropped their hand.

"Okay. That's okay. How about you pet Checkers instead? Is that easier?"

That… that was easier. He could do that. Slowly, hand trembling, he ran a hand along Checkers's back. A purr vibrated against his hand and he did it again. And again. And again.

"There you go. You up to trying breathing again?"

Shaky, Carlos nodded.

"Good. Try breathing with Checkers."

With an effort, Carlos managed to match his breaths with the cat's. After a few breaths, his chest relaxed and he took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand. Slowly, he focused.

He was outside kneeling in the grass, Checkers in his arms, the dog pressed against the side of his leg, and Flynn kneeling across from him. When the former thief noticed him looking at him, he relaxed a little with a faint smile.

"Feeling any better?"

For a split second he nearly panicked; he was alone, his pack nowhere in sight, and Flynn had just seen him weak and pathetic. But the warm weight of Checkers and the dog kept him in place. Cautious, he met Flynn's gaze, searching it for anything that meant the older man would use this against him.

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing dangerous in his expression. In fact, he looked at Carlos a lot like how his pack did.

"I…yeah," he whispered.

Before Flynn could reply, Rapunzel came into view with Evie right on her heels. Things became a blur again as Evie practically snatched him up, excused them, and ushered him back to their room with Flynn and Rapunzel promising to tell Jay and Mal where they were. Once in their room, Evie dragged him into bed and kept him there for the rest of the day, Checkers, the dog, Jay, and Mal joining them because, as Mal put it, "Fuck philosophy."