Open your door.
Deuce stared at the screen for an embarrassingly long time, one eye squished shut and the other squinting. Laying on his stomach, face in his pillow, his arm stretched out and tilting the screen toward himself. Rudely awoken by the vibration merely seconds ago.
The phone vibrated again, as if on cue.
Open your door, Deuce.
That somehow made him squint harder, ultimately confused as to how someone could possibly misspell 'Deuce' that badly, especially Jackson.
Speaking of, Deuce glanced at his clock to confirm his suspicions, noting it to be a very early three a.m. A school day, too. Jackson simply wasn't the type, dating or not.
Deuce threw the covers off, stepped into his sneakers and shades, shivering at the cold. He shoved a hoodie on to subdue the shivering and cover his semi-nakedness. It bit into his legs so he jogged half heartedly down the stairs and threw the door open.
"Jackson, it's kinda late, man-" he paused before finishing, gripping the doorframe and eyeing the boy slumped and shivering and definitely not Jackson.
Deuce's snakes hissed in distress before he even registered it, knowing and feeling and sad . He moved forward, shooting his arms out in support because there's no way he'll be standing much longer.
"Holt? Holt, are you ok?" Rhetorical and downright stupid. He obviously wasn't.
Holt was a mess. Obviously suppressing this horrid, full body shudder as his breaths came in quick, tight, panicked puffs. Arms wrapped securely over himself in an almost makeshift hug. His nails had scratched into his forearms. Hair bright and somehow burning hotter. He looked at Deuce with this wide eyed horror, his waterline heavy with unshed tears.
Deuce's body kicked into action before his mind, pulling back from the door, not touching, and beckoning Holt inside and down into a crouched position in the hallway. Holt stuttered briefly, breath halting in his chest, mixing with sobs into a cocktail of misery.
Deuce closed his eyes for a moment. This wasn't the first panic attack he'd witnessed. Between himself and Jackson he'd seen more than enough to last him a lifetime, not counting the ups and downs of their weird little friend group.
The priority was immediately stopping Holt from doing any long term damage to himself, Deuce, and any furniture close enough to be in flame range. Holt's hands were still at his forearms, digging and scratching, so Deuce moved to pull them away, immediately aborting that idea when Holt's hair ignited as he let out this choked half-sob, half-scream.
"Don't touch me! Don't touch me I can't-"
New plan. Deuce shifted back until he was squatting a good distance away from Holt. Hands out, palms up.
"Breathe." Open, calm, easy. His snakes lowered their usual buzzing hiss, quiet as they observed.
Holt shuddered, voice low and aching as he wheezed. "I can't do that-"
"One, two, three, four, five. Breathe in," Deuce made an exaggerated motion with his chest as he inhaled with his nose, breathing louder than Holt's panicked huffs,"and out."
He counted to five again on the exhale, making it easy to follow and gently coaxing as Holt tried to copy. Rinse, repeat. Holt's shaking died down slightly, face now teary and wet. Deuce surveyed him, checking for any other injuries.
"Where are your headphones?"
"Music was too loud. Took 'em off."
Deuce blinked at that. Holt usually needed music playing to stay himself. Jackson had explained it, one night during one of their not-quite-dates, one hand idly playing with his flames while the other scrawled an overly scientific diagram. Blue skin crayoned in, annotated, supposedly simple yet still losing Deuce halfway between 'an anomaly in my DNA' and 'cranky British serial murderer.'
"Right now the trigger is music," Jackson had said, all matter of fact, tapping the poorly drawn headphones on the stick figure, "chances are it'll change some time before we turn twenty one. So I've got that to look forward to, I guess. Until then the other guy fancies himself a DJ, no use complaining."
"You complain a lot, actually."
Jackson had laughed, then. Leaving Deuce content with the thought that this was something they had under control. Sorely mistaken, apparently.
"Took them off? How come I'm not seeing Jackson right now, dude?"
Holt clammed up, threw his hands over his ears and drew his knees up, tight. "I dunno! W-was at the turntable when everythin' was too loud all of a sudden. It burned, Deuce. It fuckin' burned so I-I took my headphones off and went outside but then the quiet hit me but the music burns and I can't-"
"Right," Deuce quickly confirmed his understanding before Holt worked himself up again. Too late, though. Holt lurched forward, gripped Deuce's forearms, hands just hot enough to hurt. Deuce grimaced.
"I can hear everything, Deuce. Help me!"
Deuce gripped him back, mirroring his position when he felt Holt's fingers curl against his skin, no doubt ready to tear into his skin again. Holt thumped his forehead against Deuce's shoulder, hair falling into his eyes causing him to shiver and fight. Deuce quickly swiped it back, noting how it seemed to bother him. He brought both hands up, pressing them over Holt's ears and smiling when he sighed at the smallest bit of relief.
It occurred to Deuce, then, that the trigger had been music for a long time. Holt had grown adjusted to a world with trashy EDM tracks in the background. Never truly experiencing the quiet.
"Holt, I think your trigger may have changed."
Hearing those small nosies he'd never quite been able to before. And, oh God, Holt simply radiated noise. Everything he did. The crackling in his hands when he summoned flames within them, the leather of his jacket creaking when he moved. Deuce suddenly understood the panic. The overwhelming input of everything was enough to put anyone in the fetal position.
Holt took in his words with several slow blinks, still shaken. Deuce gave him a moment of silence before he twitched his head, gesturing to the stairs. He knew he had a pair of Jackson's ugly yellow noise cancelling headphones somewhere. Jackson didn't want to mute the video games when they hung out as a group, using them instead.
Holt rose to his feet slowly. The strangeness of it made Deuce want to scream. Holt wasn't like this. Was fire and heat and temper. Not twitchy and panicked. Deuce guided him up the stairs, into his room, in his bed. Feeling an ache in his chest when Holt didn't tease about the copious amount of Jackson's clothing strewn about the place. When Holt didn't smirk at the 'scene kid stickers' plastered all over the earphones Deuce handed to him.
"Put these on."
Holt did.
A silence. Dragged on, Deuce focused on the way Holt's breathing simmered down into a normal rhythm.
"So that's it?"
Deuce flinched, opening his eyes from where they'd closed under his glasses. Holt looked stricken, sad, and Deuce wanted to hug him but wouldn't, couldn't, because Holt wasn't Jackson and didn't work that way. "Hm?"
"No more music for me, heh, not if I wanna stay myself."
"You're better off chatting with Jackson about that, man."
Holt scrunched his hands into fists, glared off at some offending spot on the wall. Deuce didn't really know what to say. He wasn't particularly close to Holt. They'd been aware of each other, talking every so often. Deuce guiltily cursed himself because it never really occurred to him that this whole 'alter ego' thing was a big thing in their life. Something that he'd needed to be better acquainted with, something he had barely even bothered to brush over. Fuck , they were still teens.
"Don't act all sad over it, Snakes. It's not your fault."
And now Holt was doing his own weird form of comfort, face still wet and voice still shaky. When he was the one having a panic attack not half an hour ago.
Deuce wanted to speak. Wanted to let him know that he was there for him, in an awkward 'i'm dating your sort-of brother' kind of way. But Holt was already curling up on the end of his bed, burying his face in a pile of blankets like he owned the place.
"I'm stayin' here. Night."
"Oh, uh , night, man."
Deuce watched Holt's chest even out. Then grabbed his phone, quickly turning on the screen and typing 'Jekyll and Hyde' into the search bar.
End