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17

"What the hell-"

But I can't finish that sentence because I'm gasping for breath again, as if I'd been in saved on the brink of drowning. My chest tightens, the room is spinning and there are distinct voices, almost recognizable but I can't make out what's being said even though I hear my name multiple times. My vision is blurry and I realize there are tears in my eyes but I can't remember why. There's some movement that I catch from the corner of my eye and vaguely register a contact -a hand- against my arm but it's gone in a second or two.

Someone makes their way in front of me, and they're saying my name over and over and the voice is calm, low and focused, almost stern butfamiliar enough to make me look up.

"Ray."

"Take deep breaths for me, Hilary." Ray demands, and although his voice seems faraway, I obey. "Good...Deep breaths...you're fine, Hils...it's just us...inhale-"

It's not Drew. I repeat to myself, willing myself to calm down. It's not Drew. It's just your friends. It's Ray. And Tyson. And Max. They're not here to hurt you. It's not Drew. It's not him. You're safe. It's not him. It's not him. It's not him-

It works enough to stop the tightening in my chest, and in a few more minutes the spinning in the room reduces to mere dizziness. And I guess it must have been apparent because as I blink back some tears and look around I spot Ray, who's kneeling at some distance in front of me, and the look of relief on his face. The bed creaks as Max puts his weight at the edge of it, farthest from me, and breathes out a sigh of relief too. Tyson is the only one who makes the motion to near me but with one meaningful look from Ray's direction, he's stopped in the middle of the room with his hand outstretched rather awkwardly before pocketting it.

"What were you thinking sneaking up on her in the middle of the night like that, Tyson." I hear Ray chide.

"I only wanted to talk to her." Tyson replies defensively although even I can pick out the guilt in all my state of haziness. "It was only midnight and she's usually awake-"

"It's okay." I finally mumble, still struggling to catch my breath, and make a shrugging motion but regret it as the nausea increases suddenly because of it.

"You're having a panic attack." Ray says sternly, turning back to me, "It's clearly not okay. Breathe."

"I think we should wake Kai up. I can't believe he's slept through all the noise we just made-" But Max cuts off, clearly noting my expression and the way I'm waving my hand in refusal. Ignoring the blood pounding against the back of my head, I croak out a, "Water." mainly to distract Max than anything else. And as he leaves the room, direction opposite to where I know Kai is sleeping, Ray talks me through some more breathing exercises that actually somewhat help so that by the time Max is back with a bottle of water and a glass, I already feel a little calmer.

Deep breaths, I tell myself, lips touching the cold edges of the glass but not drinking the liquid within, He's not here. Deep breaths. You're safe. Inhale. It's not him. Exhale.

In the background, I can hear Tyson and Max bickering in low whispers.

"-but what was so necessary that you had to come at twelve AM to talk to her about. You could have waited. She's here all day, you know."
"Oh come on. Kai's been working us like mules. We're out before breakfast, back after dinner. I can't possibly talk to her any other time."
"But what was so urgent-"
"Nothing." And at that point, Tyson's voice drops to a whisper that the pounding in my head has stopped enough for me to catch, "I just wanted to know what happened."

At this point, Ray joins in, sounding rather colder than he had the entire conversation, "Kai told you what happened."

"Kai doesn't know everything."
"Whatever you wanted to know, Tyson, if she didn't mention it to Kai, then she wasn't about to mention it to you."

I don't miss the implication.

"Well, I wanted to know anyways, okay?" Tyson raises his voice, exasperated, "I was worried for her, man. I don't know about you but Kai's second-hand, one-worded reports of her just weren't satisfactory for me so I wanted to see for myself how she's doing."

"I'm fine, Tyson." I finally croak out, and he looks genuinely surprised to see that I'd been eavesdropping, "My head's almost healed..." I have to take a deep breath, "I don't need blood anymore. And..."

"Hilary. Stop talking." He moves over to sit next to me, grabs my glass of undrunk water and puts it down -the motion, surprisingly enough, doesn't startle me neither does the proximity. And I guess he's noted because the next thing I know, his arms is around my back, pulling me close to him so that my head automatically rests against his shoulder.

I expect another panic attack, I expect more tears, I brace myself for the ragged breathing, the tightening in my chest...but nothing happens. On the contrary, it feels almost calming. Waking up in the middle of the night to a familiar (but not exactly sure who's) figure expecting pain and violation may have triggered this but being in a fully lit room in the safe arms of someone I trusted with my very life definitely tamed it down.

I don't know how long I stay pressed to Tyson's side (half an hour? Fourty five minutes?) but by the time the pounding in my head stops, and I'm breathing normally again and the nauseated feeling has faded, Ray's sitting up against the back of the closed door and Max is fully relaxed on the lone sofa save minor concerned glances my way.

I set my knees from their huddled position up against my chest, back down on the floor and Tyson takes it as a cue to finally speak. And it's two words, but they change the very air in the room, "I'm sorry."

Max shuffles in his place on the couch, and Ray looks up at the both of us. I stiffen but respond with, "It's okay."

"You don't even know what I'm apologizing for."

"For blaming me for what happened." I don't want to say it but I do, "For not being patient when I didn't tell. The cafeteria. The hospital." He looks too guilty and I reassure him with a, "It's okay. I was being difficult, anyways."

"I had no idea it was this bad. I never expected-" He sighs, and positions himself away from me so that he can look at me clearly, "I thought it was something about your mother. Or, I don't know, something to do with school. I never imagined a situation like this."

He can't even say it properly.

And at any other time I'd have been angry but all I can feel right then is utter exhaustion because I don't want to deal with this right now, fresh after recovering from the very thought of a psychopath being in the same room as me.

So I just reply with a, "Yeah, well."

And I guess he notices my discomfort because he just observes me but says nothing further. And I'm glad because, honestly I really want to talk to him because I haven't talked to my best friend in literal ages but full details of an abusive ex boyfriend slash stalker's story is not an appropriate start and fresh after a full fledged panic attack at 2 AM is really not the appropriate time.

"I'm just so past making excuses, Tyson." I mumble when his stare starts to make me feel uneasy, "I never told you because I was so embarrassed and ashamed and I just wasn't thinking right because he was threatening me-"

His fist clenches but he's hanging on to every word. Even Max and Ray are leaning in to catch my hurried whispers.

"-and I was terrified because I knew he wasn't past pulling this-" I wave my hand lazily to my shoulders, then my head, "-shit. But I am so over making excuses and hiding everything now and I want to tell you. I will." I assure him, then take a breath, "But not right now, man. I had a row with Kai today, then again tonight-"

Of course, the night wasn't exactly a row but an attempt at flirtation gone downright awry and ending up in me physically pushing him away because the proximity reminded me of the horrible events of a week ago.

"-and I can barely keep myself together right now-"

"I'm so sorry about this. I bumped into the table and..." he trails off and I shrug as if he had only said something offensive and not done something downright triggering. And normally, I'd be angry but I just wanted to curl into the covers and sleep right then so I just mumble out a hurried, "Don't worry about it." wanting this conversation to end.

"I'll let you sleep." He says, finally catching on. It's when he nods and gets up, mumbling something about left over Pizza, that I start to wonder something.

"Where's Mariah?" I ask, turning to Ray who's gotten up, and is shrugging dust of his pajamas, "Wasn't she supposed to be here?"

"She got held up with something." Ray answered, then his voice raises, "Do you need someone to stay with you for the night?"

Pride wanted to say a loud No, go eat your left over pizza and sleep soundly in your own room with nothing to fear I'll be fine but something much much wiser dominated for once and I sighed resignedly, "Yes."

Max and Tyson exchange a meaningful glance, and Tyson's hands seem to be digging deeper into his pockets and for a minute I wonder if I'm inconveniencing them but it doesn't last long. They want to help and I know it. This is how I'm willing to ask.

"I'll bring our futons." Max smiles at me.

I sleep rather peacefully that night.

I didn't realize how abusive the relationship was till the time it blatantly crossed a line one day. It came back to me in bits and pieces after I broke it off with Drew for getting too physical without my explicit permission. The signs had always been there, and because the ostrich approach is my forte, I'd very effectively ignored them.

Till he was in my house one night and it was getting uncomfortably heated and too far too soon and my stop it and get off right freaking now were falling on deaf ears, so I had to resort to knocking over a side lamp, a motion distracting him enough to let me push him off. I was not the Hilary then that I have become right now, had some will to fight so his aggressive physical assaults (because I was protesting all through the bruised lips, I was pushing him all through his rather forceful hand roaming) were met with some of my own aggression.

A lot of curses were exchanged, and for the moments I was pushing him out of the house it, in a fierce display of domination he had me pressed against the wall and if mum's car didn't turn up right then in the garage, he'd have gotten away with it too.

I thought about that night the second time I had a panic attack. I thought about the way his fingers had clawed at the skin around my waist, and there were tears in my eyes. I thought about how his hands had gripped at places I protested at rather aggressively and I couldn't breath. I grab the edges of the kitchen counter, trying to focus on my surroundings, and not the loud pleads echoing in my head from both that night and the one a week before. I struggle not to think of what might have happened had someone else not interrupted and I can't hold myself up off the ground anymore.

When Mariah see's me looking as if I'd just run a marathon, mumbling breathe in, breathe out, rubbing my cold sweaty hands together for some sense of warmth, she wastes no second calling up Kai-something that only stresses me out all the more because fuck, how many times will he see me break down like this before he flips.

And in the back of my mind I realize how sick it is to be worried about him, when I'm literally having an emotional break down, but that's how it has been and I feel a strange sense of resentment towards him for it- why does he react so aggressively to the things I have absolute no control over to the point where it doesn't even feel safe for me to be honest about them. Why should I have to hide the trauma out of fear of his reactions?

But I bury this feeling quickly when I hear his voice, the rushed footsteps entering the room, a comforting hand against my back and it feels safe again.

It takes a few episodes of puking into the trashcan to feel akin to normal again. I register Kenny in the back of the room talking in a hushed voice with Dizzy, repeat some kind of address and a phone number to Mariah and groan inwardly. I don't say anything when I flop onto the huge couch in the living room, feeling exhausted and worn out, and Kai tells me about the appointment they've made with a local shrink and how I should go.

Somehow the only thing that bothers me in all of this is how distant he sounds, and how he's angled away from me, sitting by the farthest edge of the couch.

author's note:

heeey guys :)))

As promised in last chapter of hnc, although not on time mentioned, here it is :) lol I last updated this in July, 2013 and abandoned it and it's Feb, 2016 now AND IT IS BACK. Leave a review and let me know how this was :) I'm v v nervous updating this after so long omg.

Anyways. For those of you who may care about the details of this change of plans in a story I decided I will discontinue, I feel like I should explain myself. I discontinued because it's one of those stories to me that I look back and go "what tf was I thinking" and I regularly filter stuff and edited bits out to sort of polish my account and shizz, the only reason I kept this was because it means so much to me, and sometimes when feel the need to poke at my insecurities and go through all my messes, I look back and think, "Oh, I've made such a huge progress." Also, it reflects different era's of my life, and I'm a nostalgic person. Also, you can track mine and khl's friendship via this ha.

BUT. On point. I dunno what happened I had fully decided I was leaving it, bcz I can't continue a mess and I just kept looking at it and suddenly got this urge to write it again, as some sort of redemption. So, I'm going to try to turn this around in a less messy direction.

A couple of things.
a. I'm trying to focus on the Hilary Drew relationship (which i should have done sooner tbh)
b. a lot of Kai's behavior was shitty of me to write so I'm going to try and fix that.
c. There was, continues to be, a lot of romanticizing of messed up state of mind, and mental disorders and I've learned that there's nothing quirky about that, and these things cripple people enough that they're unable to live there lives. And no one comes to rescue you from them, it's unfortunately, something you have to deal with alone. The most people can do is support. I'm going to try to redeem myself on this.

Why am I rambling omg. I feel like this needed to be out there annnnddd I'm done.

PS: Leave a review :)))))))