TW/ Panic attacks!

Y/N remembers a couple of things. She doesn't get why her chest hurts so damn much because of it.

Author's note!:Its... been a while, huh? Somehow it feels kinda weird to post this without elaborating more or micromanaging it. I just tried going with the flow honestly. But uh... yeah. This is more or less a transition into getting some other characters in, as well as getting back into the writing groove of things. So... I hope you all enjoy!

You left the night you turned 18. You never turned back; packed your papers and your things in two hefty luggages and bought yourself a twinkie bar with the fifty bucks he gave you for the travel expenses to college dorms.

At least you were good at one thing, and that was barely shaving past scholarship requirements.

And.. though you would never admit it then, things got better. You got better. More space. More time to think. Eventually you even got to a good therapist.

A dubious roommate. Your new friend.

A bachelors degree (and with it, no more fucking calculus- all the times you had laid dead in front of a computer with only energy drinks to keep you going while also needing to finish a billion other projects- but it was done! aha! it wy

That roommate was the best friend you never had. The one encouragement to keep you pushing on through the absolute pain that was college- and for a major you were probably never going to use of all things.

Seriously, what were you thinking with modern arts?

Eh, at least you ticked it on your resume among the list of other odd jobs; you had to pay for cup noodles somehow!

A cheap apartment. You move out to go to an actual house with a similar rent.

A drawing tablet that you treated yourself to. You draw to your hearts content.

A home. Better than anything you'd ever imagine.

A life. A wonderful, free life.

A tiny friend. Your little angel.

You had all of these wonderful things in your life now.

The stresses? the doomsday device of a brain that you had?

They were still here. And sometimes, your brain liked to remind you of this neat little fact.

You snap out of a light doze with the same heavy, husky pressure on your chest; restricting the normal motion of your lungs as you struggle to take another breath. A panic attack; you knew it the second you woke up. You tried to get up and breathe but nothing was working. No breathing exercise could calm you down. Your hands shook and tears wet your cheeks at how bad this one was. Why? what even triggered it?

Why were you like this?

Your heart was pounding in your ears like a mechanic hammer dead-set on you head, just blow after blow after blow and you couldn't take it-

You're gonna die you're gonna die you're gonna die- you're gonna have a heart attack and die- the world is imploding on you and you just want to-

"Y-...Y/N?"

No.

He can't see you like this.

You glanced over shakily to see Teddy staring back at you with a horrified sort of concern- he quickly jumped down the last few steps with measured hops and ran over to the couch with a comforting glow in his eyes. The sight alone of him there, mixed with the crazed worrying of him breaking something on the steps made you calm down, just a bit. Just enough to feel like you had enough footing with your breathing.

"Go… Go 'way Teds- p-please." He shook his head no; determined to fix whatever was wrong with you.

You try pleading for the world to end you right then and there- just to make you disappear to avoid him seeing how weak you were. The fear clings to your chest even harder, like claws sinking deeper into your heart.

Soon he climbed up the comforter and stood there, arms out and still wanting to help but not knowing what to do . He settled for sitting next to your leg and patting it soothingly. The dark living room was soon lit up with the soft glow of his eyelights.

You didn't deserve this.

You didn't deserve him.

You try to gently push him away, to tell him that you're okay. To tell him to go back upstairs and leave you alone.

You only manage to tap him and mumble something so breathlessly- so incoherently that even you can't hope to understand what was said.

A few more breaths later and you feel just enough footing in your pace that you can say a sentence, at least.

"I-I'm fine, T-Tedds. Go... Go back upstairs-" You managed to hush out between the dry heaves of your stomach and the fluttering, breathless tremor of your lungs. "I.. I can handle this."

He looks up at you and smiles a small, sad smile. It makes you want to cry more.

"This isn't new to me, Boo. It happens all the time in the shops."

"I'm not going. Just breathe. I'll be here, no matter how long it takes, 'kay?" he smiles reassuringly (but you can see that quiet fear in his eyes- the worried crease in his brow is too deep for you to not notice.) You don't feel like protesting any longer so you simply hug him close to you as you ride out the attack

You choked back a sob while trying to breathe steadily- heave in, heave out, heave in and-

He simply stays there, humming a small tune to himself that is admittedly off-ene (yet it was the best thing you could focus on besides the cluster of panicked thoughts in your head) and petting the top of your hand with his bony little palms.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in…

Breathe… out…

You were so unbearably tired. Everything just felt heavy and you weren't up for this- not in the slightest.

So you lay back down on the sofa and you practically feel the sofa becoming one with you; always and forever.

It was romantic, actually. The unique bond of human and upholstery, never to come apart till death come for you. Though, it'd be a hell of a lot better if the couch didn't have a habit of stealing everything you loved between the cracks; with all the change you found there, you were honestly surprised at the fact that you weren't rich yet. C'mon couch, have some sympathy.

For once in however long you've been a mess, you slept peacefully. A small figure curled up comfortably into the crook of your neck and slept knowing that his boo was okay now.

…For some reason, you're sitting on a lilac cloud.

You wake up as usual and groan with the absolute headache; it was like your brain was to break out of your skull- sorry, there's no chance of getting out of the lease, so good luck with that, brain. Where the hell was your tylenol, anyway? or Excedrin? or a hammer? a hammer would be more effective at this point, all things considered.

When did you even fall asleep? you don't even drink; how could you feel so sluggish-

Teddy .

Has he eaten? Is he alright? What happened?

Oh.

You broke down in front of an eight year old.

You grab onto the backframe of your couch and slowly pull your practically dead carcass up, lugging your head forward last and feeling another wave of nausea wash over you. How can alcoholics deal with this every morning?

"mmmmfivemoreminutesmama" whispered a tiny voice nestled on your side. What? You pry open your crusty eyes and take a brief moment to rub them, then look around. House destroyed? Nope.

Stepmother here?

Nada.

It was definitely morning- probably no later than ten am or so. You take a hesitant glance down to see Teddy still stubbornly grabbing onto the fabric of your oversized sweater and biting said fabric. You try to gently pry his sleeping form away from the clothing, but goddamn if his jaw strength isn't something! He sat there like a piranha from some retro videogame and you were too far away from your phone to try and entertain yourself until he woke up.

Wake him up? Psh, no. You weren't some kind of sadist. No, this called for special measures of patience and silence. And also keeping a safe distance between his teeth and your side; even though it was thick fabric, those chompers were nothing to scoff at. A quick glance at your hand could prove that in an instant.

It didn't hurt as much anymore, thankfully. You peel off a small piece of bandaging to see the wound red and puffy, but scabbed over and healing. You knew what you signed up for when you adopted him, after all.

…maybe you could get him some more things to play with.

Or hell, maybe you could take him to the park! Kids still like the park, right?

… right?

It was certainly park-worthy weather, after all. A quick glance back at him made you wonder what else he'd possibly like. The beach? boats? Canoeing? eating out? You never found much of a point in doing it alone, but now that someone else was there…

A smile crept on your face at the thought of seeing his face once he steps on the sand, or gets on a boat and sees the waves rush past, or going on a canoe in a nearby lake, where the water is so still that it looks like a mirror reflection of the forest itself. Would he like hiking? Or going to the mall and checking out shoes? Or a petting zoo?

In your excitement he started to stir, rousing up gently as his grip on your sweater slowly faded away and he sat down to rub his own little boney eyesockets. He yawned a big, jaw-popping yawn and then blinked owlishly with wide eyelights. You simply stared as he gathered his bearings and grinned, tiny boney tail wagging happily at the sight of you.

"Mornin' mama." He said as he got up to his feet and hugged your arm; you hugged back with the palm of your hand; never too tight but not too soft. "Morning Tedds. How're you feeling?"

He stretches briefly and all of his vertebrae pop in unison. "'m doing good now. Hey, what do you wanna d-" he freezes once he sees the skin of your hand, the walks over towards it and pulls your hand closer to inspect it. He grows rather guilty at the sight of it, then looks back up at you. "I'm sorry, boo."

You frown and immediately dismiss the apology "No. Sorry is illegal if you've already been forgiven."

He blinks at the statement but goes to pet your hand softly, as though it might break if he pets too hard.

You pull him into yet another hug and he hugs back however he can; teeth clicking a couple of times in a restrained effort to not bite. Taking this as a sign to pull away, you set him carefully on the sofa yet again and kiss his bony little head. He really doesn't expect this, it seems, because he does a strange little sound of both confusion and embarrassment.

He stammers, eyelights wide. "I- nobody ever-" He continues repeating odd sentence fragments before looking up at you, arms slack at his sides. "You're squishy."

You laugh aloud at this and get up from the couch, tossing the blanket in a calculated corner of the sofa and making sure not to hit teddy in your throw.

"Squishiness is but a blessing and a curse, Tedds."

"How come?"

"If you're too squishy, your squishiness starts spilling out of your shirt, and you can't fit your squishiness in jeans anymore. Or shorts. Or bikinis." You groaned out of pure experience with 'squishiness' as teddy hummed in acknowledgement.

"What's a bikini?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"Okay."

Teddy kicked absently at the the couch pillow and you flip back your hoodie; it was way too big for you; your head was way too small for it. Wait... Teddy was the perfect size for this- ...

"Hey Teddy, do you wanna hitch a ride on my hoodie?" Teddy looked a bit confused at this but nodded eagerly at the thought regardless.

You pick him up and put him in the hood of your sweater; it was a thick grey sweater that you had bought in a men's clothes store, once upon a time, with a fluffy hood and fluffier pockets. You also believed that the person you were giving it to was going to appreciate it, but uh…

"Next time, just give me the money instead."

That didn't go well. Too bad for him, it's yours now. And you looked handsome in it.

"So Teddy, how is it up there?" you asked as you adjusted the hood and pulled on the strings so he wouldn't be too wobbly.

"I'VE NEVER BEEN SO TALL IN MY LIFE!" he exclaims, patting the top of your head eagerly and soon finding himself petting your hair. "ALSO THIS IS SUPER FLUFFY!"

He sighed and flopped on your hair; you could feel the small pitter patter of his heart."Your hair is pretty. I want hair someday."

"I have an unhealthy amount of doll wigs with your name on it, Tedds."

"REALLY?!" he gasps and grabs onto your hair, to which you promptly cry uncle. "Oh! I'm sorry." He pats the area soothingly and makes himself comfortable in the hoodie as you put your hair in a side-ponytail for him to have more breathing room.

"Really. I can even style a few for you, if you want.'

"I'd like that." He says. "I- I'd like that a lot."

"So, what do you want for breakfast?" you ask idly as you open the fridge and inspect it for a quick breakfast.

"I… hmm…." Teddy looks at the ingredients, but doesn't seem to decide yet.

"Take your time, there's no rush. Just give me an idea and I'll try my best to make it reality." you offer, to which he mulls over the thought. Would this finally be your chance to act like one of those professional chefs on Youtube? hell yeah! now you just needed a super expensive camera and fake food props!

"Hey Boo, can I ask you a favor?"

"Yep?"

"See, there's this really cool food that was playing on some ads and I've always wanted to try it and it might be too much to ask for bu-"

"Nope, wrong answer, nothing you ask for will ever be "too much", okay?"

He nods in slight disbelief but you don't call him out on it. "Okay. Well… then… can you make me a sandwich?"

…that's it?

He just wanted a sandwich?

Of all the bizarre foods he could ask for; all the different things he could try, he just wanted a sandwich.

Dammit tear-ducts! take one for the team- no leaking in these territories!

"That's what you want, right?"

"Mhm. I've never tried one before.'

"Of course! Lemme get out some ingredients, and I'll show you how to make it as I make you one, okay?"

You don't need to see him to know that he's nodding excitedly.

"That is called multi-tasking."

"Multitaskin'" he hushes out, as if the word were sacred.

"There we go! Learning already!"

He giggles from the hoodie as he rests his head on top of yours to get a better view of the countertops. Who said that ratatouille and totem-poles couldn't be a joint-idea?

Purebites need protein, right? Hmm. There's bacon… you could make him a BLT. You remember making those a lot in your college flat, except you added cheese and ketchup as well. Best food for any occasion.

Then again, you ended up making many sandwiches in your college flat.

You were very liked in college, even though your art major was widely found useless.

Anyway, you grab some cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and bacon, then set the bacon to fry on a small pan as you wash the lettuce and tomato respectively. Teddy simply observes silently, only making a few small sounds of acknowledgement as you slice through the tomato, making it extra-thin for teddy and moderate for yourself.

"Now Teddy, when cutting a tomato, use this kind of knife; see the little ridges on it?"

Teddy nods. "Looks like my teeth." To which you laugh at the thought; you looked at the serrated knife and all you could see was Teddy's little fangs. "Yeah, I guess it does look like your teeth, huh?"

"Well, after you wash the tomato, you cut it with this knife so that the tomato doesn't get mushy when you cut it. "

"Why does it get mushy?"

"Because if you use a smooth knife-" You pulled out a paring knife from the block nearby and gestured towards the edge. "It doesn't cut the tomato as quickly."

"Ooooh. That's magic."

"You're magic."

"Hehe."

With the tomatoes and lettuce prepped to go, you you stick the bread and cheese in the toaster oven until the cheese melts slightly, plopping it all together into a holy creation of cheap-sandwich recipes.

"Do you want the crust on your sandwich?" you say as you press his sandwich between two plates until it's flat enough for him to eat easily.

"What's a crust?" he asks and you break off some of the crust, then give it to him for him to inspect it.

He hums in somewhat approval, but doesn't seem all-too convinced. "I don't really like crusts much… so no thank you." He finally says, handing you the rest of the bread that he didn't finish. You toss it in the trash; crusts are for a certain type of person.

"That's cool then! I got an excuse to use these babies!" you pull out cookie cutters that you had saved for the very moment that they could be useful; that moment was now. You pick out a few favorites already; a star, a circle, a heart and a flower.

"which one do you want me to cut your sandwich with? They'll make it have different shapes."

"Ooh! I'll take the soul shaped one! I like it a lot." the soul shaped on- ohh he meant the heart. That's just adorable. You're calling it the soul-shaped one forever.

"Great with me! Hey Ted, let me grab you real quick." He climbs out partially from your hood and you hold him, then put him on the counter beside his plate. He immediately heads over to the 'soul' shaped cookie cutter and you place it right in the middle of the sandwich.

"Can you help me push it down, teddy?" He nods happily and the two of you go to fill in the very important tast of shaping a blt sandwich into a heart. After you shimmy it a bit and pull off the edges, a perfect heart is revealed, making Teddy squeal at how "Perfect! I love it!" it is. You offer him the corner pieces that were cut off, but he doesn't care any lwss about them, leaving you to eat the corners.

Now with his sandwich and yours fully done, you let him hitch another ride in your hoodie jacket, then put the plates on your dinner table and let him take his seat on top of all of your thick college books to be level with the table. He grabs onto his sandwich, dips it lightly in some ketchup and takes a big bite out of the thing, and then you realize that bitties have no stomach- how do they even eat?

And how is all this food fitting in that small figure?

You eat your blt, but your curiosity makes it all the more stranger to eat, college memories be damned.

His pupils were blown wide and his usual smile was even wider as he ate it, not even bothering to dip it in any more ketchup as he literally tore into the blt.

"Hey Teddy, do you like it?" you asked, already knowing the answer but wanting his input anyway- you totally don't base your self esteem on the opinions of other people or anything hahahaha-

He didn't even care to respond, simply nodding his head and eating the rest of the sandwich with renewed vigor until he finally took the last bite of it. His hands were dripping in tomato juice and his face was equally messy, but he looked extremely satisfied with his breakfast.

You never thought that you'd see Teddy start acting like one of the Sans bitties back at the shop. Furthermore, you never thought he would be this happy because of a sandwich.

A sandwich.

It really is the simple things, huh?

You didn't want to make him do much on such a full stomach, but the idea of that mess sticking further to his bones was enough to make you change your mind.

"Hey Teddy, do you want a bath? You look kinda… messy."

He blinked open a lazy, half lidded eyesocket and glanced at his hands before promptly agreeing.

Taking caution when holding him, you walked over to the bathroom and started getting it ready, turning the faucet handle until it was about waist-height for him and feeling the temperature to make sure it wasn't too hot or cold.

Skeletons can feel cold, right? Hm.

"Hey Teddy, do you want bubbles in it? I got two different kinds of bubble bath from the supermarket."

Teddy nodded absently and pointed at the purple bath soap, to which you smiled at yourself for knowing which one to pick. You poured it in the bath, turned off the water and closed the door slightly so he could change clothes and get in the tub without you looking. Privacy was important, after all, and you had a small stepping stool that he could use to get in.

Surely enough, you heard a small splash and a giggle come from the bathroom.

"I'm ready!"

"Okay, I'm coming in then, Teddy."

Apparently he thought it was funny to give the faucet a beard as well.

So you made it a conscious effort to give the showerhead a beard too.

And yourself.

And teddy.

And the bubble bath bottle.

You ran out of things to give beards though, so you decided to end bathtime there.

Thankfully you and Teddy were very ready for bubble saga episode three, but that would be for another time.

You watched a nature documentary on Netflix as you dried him off with a soft towel you had lying around; his bones were sparkly clean yet again, though there was no stomach to be seen; how was he even eating?

You handed him the now-clean sweater he came in with, as well as a pair of his jeans. He stared at it with a sort of awe, probably wondering how they even had colors after all this time. Then, surely enough he put it on and grinned to himself as he looked back at the tv, sidling next to you after some time of viewing. He felt like a little ball of warmth in your side, and balled some of your sweater in his tiny fists.

Bones were so, so very weird.

You glance at your hand and then at his petite one, wondering how similar monster skeletons were to human skeletons. Adorable little hands were the only response to your burning questions. As well as a small, slowly thumping tail.

Your phone buzzed suddenly and you turned to pick it up; was it another spam email? If someone did the same old "Nigerian prince" schtick you were going to shove their five tons of pure diamond up their sorry scamming asses.

(You received one message. )

Asshat: What's up with you lately? You don't call anymore. I feel disowned :'( [sent 5: 32 PM]

You rolled your eyes and typed back:

You: It's been three days, not a lifetime of suffering. [sent 5:49 PM]

She replied without skipping a beat as per usual.

Asshat: Any day without you is a lifetime of suffering /3 [sent 5:50 PM]

You: Well arent you a romeo today [sent 5:55 PM]

Asshat: That was just cruel. You hurt my feelings, Y/N. Fix it with a kiss owo [sent 5:56 PM]

You: That would involve skin contact. The pope would be mad at us. [sent 5:57 PM]

Asshat: Screw the pope, I'm lonely. [sent 6:01 PM]

You laughed as you typed a response. Teddy was still fast asleep, the soft snores and softer sweater nips were adorable. You absentmindedly rubbed his skull as you typed clumsily with your other hand, feeling teddy practically curl into the palm of your hand and rumble gently with something akin to a purr.

You found out that teddy likes head pats a lot.

You also found out that you like giving said head pats even more.

As for the asshat here, she was your partner in crime; Adrienne. Turns out your BLTs were a little too good back in college. The two of you dated on and off once upon a time, but you were practically sisters and you liked being single. Plus, the only romance you needed was the sweet serenade of artsy music playing in the background as you did whatever struck your mind. Or just singing the wii shop theme as you laid dead on the fluffy IKEA carpeting of your bedroom. It both excited and terrified you to know that there was someone equally childish as you in the world that was also able to tolerate you. How she tolerates herself, you had no idea.

She also joined in the carpet straddling.

And she brought funsized chocolates.

You fucking love that woman.

But most importantly, Adrienne came back from a trip yesterday. And she had no idea that you had Teddy living with you.

You: The pope is trying his best ok [Sent 6:03 PM]

You: Greasy people tryna grab him all day [Sent 6:03 PM]

Asshat: gross. People. [Sent 6:04 PM]

You: Yucky. [Sent 6:05 PM]

Asshat: Anyway, I'm heading over to your place to raid your cheerios. [Sent 6:06 PM]

You smiled at the thought of her coming over; your apartment wasn't really messy, maybe just a few things to be put away, but nothing major. Hell, if anything she made the mess. And you were also the leading advocate to causing said mess. P lus, though her methods of inviting herself seemed too forward, she always respected when you wanted some alone time. Actually, she always respected you, period.

That was a big difference, you eventually found out.

Plus, you could introduce her to Teddy. She always watches Bitty videos, after all.

You: Leave my cheerios alone you heathen [Sent 6:10 PM]

Asshat: I will fight you [Sent 6:11 PM]

You: Bite me [Sent 6:11 PM]

Asshat: don't tempt me~ [Sent 6:13 PM]

You: Dumbass [Sent 6:14 PM]

Asshat: You know you love me [Sent 6:19 PM]

You: I do and I hate it [Sent 6: 20 PM]

Asshat: UwU I have hotpockets with your name on it [Sent 6:23 PM]

You: I will now invite you with open arms. [Sent 6:24 PM]

Asshat: tis my superpower, darling.[Sent 6:26 PM]

You: wanna know my superpower [Sent 6:30 PM]

Asshat: What is it [Sent 6:33 PM]

You: Leaving people on 'read' for uncomfortable stretches of time. [Sent 6:33 PM]

Asshat: you animal [Sent 6:35 PM]

You: not done yet- while also having it say 'typing' when its only a period in the message bar. [Sent 6:36 PM]

Asshat: i feel sick [Sent 6:43 PM]

How couldst you [Sent 6:43 PM]

Wait- you left me on-[Sent 6:43 PM]

:'-( [Sent 6:44 PM]

(see you at 8 though 030 disney movies ftw) [Sent 6:55 PM]

You sighed and kept on petting teddy as you looked around; yep, nothing too messy. A stray sweater here, some dishes there, bitty manuals out yonder, nothing bad.

This was pretty nice though… Teddy was surprisingly warm considering his size; the couch was cushy enough as it was, the television was set to a super low but calming volume that had just the right amount of input to doze off to.

She knew where the spare key was anyway… might as well…

Take a little nap…

You wake up to see cats staring you back from the living room, with Teddy and Adrienne chatting happily as they watched the little mermaid.

And they ate all the hotpockets.

So what do you do when met with this unfortunate situation?

Why, what anyone would logicaly do, when the cats are being traitors and are surprisingly cuddling up to Adrienne.

You scream.