"Jim! Jim, Jesus, wake up!"
Something was shaking me. I couldn't see and my throat was closing up. My chest felt like it caved in on itself and my eyes snapped open, but I couldn't focus on anything. My arms and legs felt numb, heavy, as if they didn't belong to me. I couldn't move them, and I didn't try. I couldn't feel them.
Hands were wrapped around my shoulders, that same weak grip. Gary. He was shaking me. I couldn't get my eyes to focus. I kept trying. My breathing was shallow. I tried to suck in a deeper breath, but my throat burned horribly and my chest fought the expansion, and I choked the air back out.
Every inch of my skin was tingling, just shy of numb where it hurt so badly and I couldn't think about anything but the way every time my body quivered, I ached and a dull pain roared over the entire surface of my skin.
Oh God. Oh God.
A panic attack.
I haven't had one in so long.
Blood rushed from my head to my arms and legs. I could feel it. Everything suddenly became warmer and I clenched my hands into fists and grabbed Gary's wrists and pulled his hands off my shoulders. He backed away and I released him.
Sitting up, I ran my hands through my hair and over my face, my entire body still thrumming in the aftershock.
"God. Are you alright?" Gary asked, obviously shaken. He carded his fingers nervously through his hair and sat on the edge of my bed only a few inches away from me, as if anticipating a relapse or something.
"I'm fine. Thanks." I responded, my voice hoarse. "Sorry about that." I mumbled absently.
"What happened?" He questioned, pressing me for an answer. I could tell he was alarmed, but the worry in his voice eased me. He was concerned for me. "I mean, I heard you choking or coughing, like you couldn't breathe." Gary explained, his voice rushed. I looked at him then, making sure he was okay. He saw the look in my eyes and smiled, resting a hand on my shoulder, reassuring me. "Then when I tried to wake you up, you didn't respond. It was like you were catatonic or something. I was just about to call a doctor when you woke up."
I didn't say anything to that, instead opting to tear my glance away to focus on a spot in the carpet in front of me. I rang my hands and tried to steady my breathing as my heart finally started to slow down.
"Are you sure you're alright?" He pressed.
"I'll be fine." My voice started to fade. I tried to clear my throat, but nothing happened. "It was just a panic attack. I used to get them a lot when I was younger." I continued, even as my voice started to give out.
Gary just sat there for a minute or too, studying me intently, as if he didn't take my word for it that I was okay. That in and of itself made me feel better. I smiled at him, and he returned a worried smile of his own. He squeezed my shoulder gently before getting up.
"Get some rest. And it's two in the morning. Cut that crap out." He joked, sliding back under the sheets of his own bed. I smiled a little wider. But I couldn't fall back asleep. I was afraid of what would greet me if I did, so I slipped out of bed, grabbing a P.A.D.D. off of the dresser and collapsed nearly silently into one of the chairs in the room. Gary rolled over in his bed, and my attention snapped in his direction briefly, but he was just tossing in his sleep and I turned my focus back to the P.A.D.D., still feeling a little guilty that my nightmare had woken him up and gotten him so worked up and concerned.
I felt entirely on edge, and if I had let myself go, I would be fidgeting and shaking, but I couldn't let myself be so weak. A nightmare was nothing but a bad dream. I repeated those words in my head again and again, hoping that I would eventually be able to believe them. It wasn't working, and my heart started to speed up, so I pulled up the text for the class I had skipped yesterday, deciding to read the material, hoping that coming to class today more than adequately prepared may make amends for my behavior. I couldn't be sure how the professor would take the snub, the disrespect I showed yesterday, but I couldn't risk having a panic attack in the middle of class, even if the chance was slim.
I was disappointed that I hadn't been in the lecture after reading through two hundred pages of the text. The material, while interesting, was flat. And whatever was discussed, I missed, and missed out on. Xenolinguistics was an intense course, while, not something I couldn't handle, the information that stemmed outside the language was best learned outside of a textbook, as words on a screen are lifeless and impartial, while lecturers usually have fascinating things to remark on, points of interest, varying pronunciations as well as the differences between the formal and informal that the text skims over for the sake of time. The slang and informal side of language is where all the character was. I checked through the assignment lists, attempting to see exactly what language had been covered yesterday, relieved that, thankfully, it was merely discussion on the points of discerning dialects, though with a few examples I probably would regret having missed later.
By the time I had finished reading through the rest of the text, which was shockingly short for such an inclusive class, which only meant that was done to discourage skipping, as I had done yesterday, I realized that I had barely an hour to get ready and get to class, so I rushed across the room to the bathroom.
When I exited, Gary was just waking up, lethargically sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning. When he saw me on my way out, his eyes almost bugged out of his head.
"Whoa. What time is it?"
"Six forty seven." I replied as I grabbed my bag, throwing the P.A.D.D. inside of it, along with my keys.
"Oh, thank god." Gary replied, falling back on the mattress. "I thought I had overslept again."
I laughed a little, then stood up and headed toward the door.
"Hey." Gary called. I turned around as he sat back up, his eyes locking with mine. "Don't freak out in the middle of class, okay?" He joked, though there was genuine concern under the tone. "I won't be there to snap you out of it." He followed, smiling.
"Promise." I swore, with all the fake dramatics I could muster before hitting the button on the wall, sliding the door open.
I ran into Beth on my way to my first class and ended up walking her to class again. The way the morning sun fell on her loosely curled hair turned the chocolate color the faintest red, and I was hard not to admire the auburn shade, the way it made her eyes seem even more emerald toned than usual. When she caught me staring, I said that to her, and a healthy blush colored her cheeks, and I couldn't help but smile.
She was reluctant to go to her class once we finally got there, but I joked with her, and promised to see her later, a promise I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep, but she didn't seem to mind the falter in the oath and waved goodbye timidly before disappearing into the biology wing, leaving me to actually go to class.
Other than the first class, I managed not to be late to any others, and when four o'clock rolled around, I was seated in the Xenolinguistics class, much closer to the front, trying to distance myself from the inevitable conversations of the type of person usually sitting in the far reaches of the hall; of the girls who gossiped and those few who fell asleep, who, while hysterical to watch, were distracting. The idea of gossip made my heart race slightly, my body reliving a nightmare my mind refused to acknowledge, but I fought back the tremors, clenching my right hand into a tight fist, hoping the feel of my fingernails digging into my palm would keep me from falling back into reminiscing.
Class started not long after that, and though I continually fought back my dream, I was mostly invested in the class. I couldn't expect the professor to notice that I hadn't walked out again, nor could I expect him to take interest that, ironically, I was the only student in the entire room that actually knew what was going on, with the exception of one female cadet, far up in the front, who was far more proficient than I was.
When she and the professor started arguing over a section of the text, I couldn't hide the smile when I saw that she seemed to get the upper hand in the argument. She was nothing if not passionate, and it was fascinating to follow the banter back and forth.
Over the course of the dispute, however, I didn't miss the way a few of the girls behind me scoffed. Their voices dropped to whispers, but I could still hear them clearly.
"Everyone knows already. Is she trying to broadcast it?"
"I know. I mean, even a blind man could see the sexual tension there." The girl's friend chimed, her airy voice, which normally would have been so attractive, was darkened and made heavy with the insult and ridicule in her tone. The two of them laughed lightly, and a third girl joined the conversation. I leaned forward, hoping even the minute distance might drown out their catty banter.
When the class ended, those girls continued their conversation as they walked out, every once in a while, one of them laughing at something which, to the ears of the girl they were slandering, would have been extremely hurtful. The words that fell from their lips brought back too many unwanted memories, and I stayed behind, waiting for them to make it a considerable distance away before I left the room, because I could feel the blood boiling in my veins, I could feel the panic at the edge of my mind.
I took a deep breath.
What the Hell? I thought I was past this. I shook my head and stormed out of the room, not missing the way the girl from the front of the class had hung back like I had, but with a look of admiration, respect, and dare I say it, affection, in her dark eyes.
I smirked on my way out of the hall.
"Hey."
I didn't register the address until a hand connected with my shoulder, shaking me a little. I looked up then, tearing my mind back from wherever it had been, glancing at my shoulder, then over it to the man whom I dared to think of as a friend. If he had any good sense, he'd run. But for the time being, I smiled.
"Yeah?"
"You feeling okay?"
I eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds.
"Yes." I started, hesitantly, and still a little confused. "Why?"
"Well, I heard you had a panic attack this morning." Bones answered, just as hesitantly, as if he was concerned I'd be angry that he knew. He looked like he was about ready to step back quickly.
"Well, good thing Gary can keep a secret." I replied off-handedly, trying to brush it off. Too bad Bones was too stubborn to let it go.
"He was concerned." Leonard stated sternly, turning me so that I was facing him, a strong grip on both my upper arms. I tried to struggle out of the grip, but gave up quickly, knowing he meant well. "And so am I." Leonard continued, letting go and dropping his hands to his sides. "He said you weren't breathing. Should I take you down to the infirmary?"
"Do I look blue?" I joked.
"Do I not look serious?"
Bones' tone jarred me. There was almost a fatherly tone to it, worried, genuinely worried. I've never heard that tone before. I'd never had a real father. Frank was the closest I had to one, Sam just one below, and neither one of them stayed in my life long enough to make a difference, to save me. I looked away from Leonard, not wanting to see the look in his eyes. What was there was something I couldn't handle.
Neither one of us said anything for a while, and we just continued along in silence for a bit.
"I'm not going to force anything out of you." I jumped, though I don't think he noticed, and if he did, he didn't remark on it. "But you can trust me, you know." Those words made my lower lip quiver slightly, and I bit down on the betraying flesh quickly to stifle the movement. I was stronger than that, wasn't I?
"Thanks." I choked out after a while. I don't know if he heard the crack in my voice, but I felt it and I tried to force the emotion down. "That means a lot."
A quirky half-smile twisted Bones' lips then, and he rested a hand on my shoulder, a gesture I had never found so comforting until Leonard did it. It felt as if some weight had melted off my shoulders then, as if Atlas was given, even temporarily, reprieve. I felt lighter.
I felt guilty.
I wanted to shrug the hand off. Coming here was a penance, payment for everything I've taken, every life I'd destroyed. It hurt to think that, but I couldn't feel any other way. That's how it always was; the hurtful things were always easier to believe, and after a while, you start to think them true.
I don't know when I started to feel this way, but I had my cross to bear and I didn't deserve to rest its weight on anyone else, especially someone like Leonard. My smile faded from my face slightly and I shouldered my burden again, looking Leonard square in the eyes, hoping he didn't see the war breaking out behind the blue.
I knew he saw. It reflected in his hazel eyes. I had never seen myself mirrored; I had never seen that pain in my eyes this way before. My jaw trembled slightly, and I clamped my jaw tight.
But Leonard didn't give up on me and walk away. He stood there, unmoving. It was numbing, and yet sensitizing at the same time. Standing here under his scrutiny made me somehow feel worthwhile.
"I know what it's like to be lost." He said then. "I've been jaded for a long time. I know what it's like, Jim."
A genuine smile reached my eyes, even if it couldn't reach my face. That pain, that horrid shadow I had cast over those hazel eyes, evaporated into the air then, and it lifted another weight off of me.
The hurt was still there, it would always be, but it didn't seem to have as much gravity anymore, as if Leonard had somehow taken some of it from me.
I headed back to my dorm then, having said goodbye. Bones watched me cautiously as I walked away, I could feel his gaze on me, waiting, just in case I broke down and broke apart, but I held myself together, if more for his sake than my own. He didn't need this burden on his shoulders.
Gary eyed me nervously when I walked into the room.
"Don't worry about it." I spoke before he could even get a word out. Gary sighed, nearly inaudible, and there was a tentative smile on his face. "I'm alright." I affirmed, tired of being treated like I was so fragile. "I'm okay."
"I'm glad. I actually need my sleep."
I couldn't stop the chuckle as I sat down in one of the chairs, looking through and completing a few assignments before Gary rolled over in bed, telling me, more like begging me, to 'shut the damn light' because it must have been some time around two thirty in the morning and Gary sure as Hell wouldn't be lucid enough at six to wake me up, he threatened.
I shook my head, laughing lightly before shutting off the light and slipping under the sheets. For a while, my mind was too active, and I traced the ceiling with images, faces, tears, words, numbers, dates, pain, horror. As a lone tear, the only one I could allow, slid down my cheek, my eyes fell shut heavily.
My sleep was less fitful, but my dream no less horrific.