Victor Brannigan (![]() ![]() @ 2013-03-16 21:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | jameson kemp, kat lowsley, thomas kemp, victor brannigan |
WHO: Thomas and Victor and then Jamie and Kat
WHAT: Thomas has a wee panic attack
WHEN: Friday
WHERE: Mostly Victor's Apartment
WARNINGS: Panic attacks.
NOTES: I am just posting it up now for continuity, but you guys can get to it whenever! Absolutely no rush!
Victor's fingers flew over the strings as he played the guitar solo from Carry On My Wayward Son. It was just luck that he heard his phone during a softer part of the song. Carefully he set the guitar aside and grabbed the phone. The name on the phone told him it was Thomas calling. They had been getting quite close lately, and Victor enjoyed his compaionship very much. He smiled lightly as he answered, "Hi, Thomas?"
"Victor."
Victor blinked and he stood quickly, worrying desperately about his friends' tone. He knew there was drama going on with Thomas' family, but somehow he didn't put that and Thomas' tone together. Horrible scenarios flashed through his mind, including one where Jamie had been in an accident and Kat had been in the car too and now everyone was in the hospital. Or worse.
"Thomas, what's wrong?" he asked, trying desperately to avoid thinking about the tales his imagination was weaving. He had lost so much already. Without hesitation he began to search for his shoes. He just had a feeling he was needed somewhere.
"I'm sick," her heard Thomas hiss down the phone. "The test. It was positive."
His past had offered him quite a great deal of heartbreak and hearing his new friend confess that he had Huntington's was yet another soul-shattering event to add to the quagmire. "Fuck." It was really all he could say. Victor had frozen in his entryway, his shoes in his hand. Mindlessly, he dropped them and they clattered to the floor.
"I need help. Ple- Please. Victor. I need your help."
Once again, Thomas' tone froze Victor's belly and he immediately went back to toeing his shoes on. "What do you need, Thomas. Anything."
There was a pause and then, "I'm at the pub. Come get me?"
There was no context, but Victor didn't really need any. His friend was asking for help and Victor intended to follow through. Luckily, he knew the pub Thomas was referring to, or at least he thought he did. "I'll be there as soon as I can, Thomas," Victor promised.
It took a good twenty minutes for Victor to reach the pub and on the way he texted Kat to see if she could go and make sure Jamie had some company. It was likely he was going to need it. He reassured them he would text as soon as he knew anything. When he reached the pub, he rushed right up to the front counter to ask about his friend. When the worried hostess said he might be the man who had locked himself in a bathroom stall for really quite a long time, Victor assured her he would take care of it and he flashed her his badge. "He's just gotten some bad news and he's upset. It's nothing more than that," he explained as he paid Thomas' bill, along with a rather large tip, before heading into the back.
The bathrooms were large but when Victor pushed through the swinging door, he found it seemingly empty. He could feel he wasn't alone, however. "Thomas, it's me." His voice echoed off the walls. He moved further into the room carefully. The stall the farthest from the door was closed and locked. "Thomas?" He was answered only by the lock unclicking. Upon pulling it open, he found his friend curled up on the floor looking absolutely horrible. Thomas' skin was pale and he was sweating profusely and shaking visibly. Immediately Victor knelt down and put his hands on Thomas' shoulders. "Thomas, talk to me."
"I can't breathe," Thomas hissed, curling his hand in his shirt. "I can't breathe and I feel like I'm going crazy." His eyes were slightly wild and his expression was pleading.
The signs were familiar to Victor, though he hardly took them lightly. "You're having a panic attack," Victor said trying to stay calm for Thomas' sake even though he felt like curling up beside Thomas and panicking himself. "There isn't much room here and I'm not...really convinced it's very clean. I'm going to get you out of here, okay? Do you want to go to the hospital?" At the terrified look on Thomas' face, Victor decided that was a no. "Back to your house?" He could calm Thomas down but doing it in a pub bathroom was out of the question.
"No!" Thomas objected quickly. "No, I- I don't want Jamie to see me like this."
Victor considered telling him if he wasn't going to the hospital, familiar places might be best, but he was hardly going to add more stress for poor Thomas. "Okay, we can go to my place if you would rather?" After Thomas affirmed the decision with a nod, Victor stood. "Okay. Now...I can scoop you up and carry you like a bride, or I can help you walk. Do you think you can stand?"
Thomas laughed once, all shaky breath and knocking knees, but he reached up with a flailing hand and Victor caught it. Thomas was pulled to his feet and then Victor wrapped a steadying hand around his back. They made their way back out of the pub together, and Victor helped Thomas to his car.
Even with Victor reminding Thomas to breathe as they drove home, it was obvious Thomas was still in the throes of panic. His breath was uneven and shuddering and his tremors were so strong they shook the car while the pair of them stopped at red lights. Victor was relieved when they pulled into his parking garage and once there, he helped Thomas from the car and into his living room. "Okay, Thomas. Try to talk to me. I know it's hard, but try."
From his spot on the sofa, Thomas stared down at Victor who was kneeling in front of him. "I-I don't even know what to say," he whispered. His breath still seemed to be laboured and he had clearly not relaxed at all since the pub. "I'm 33. I'm 33 and healthy, and two weeks ago I thought that was all there was. And now I have a woman telling me to go to group therapy for people with terminal illness-" Panic attacks tended to come in waves and as he admitted everything out loud to Victor, it was clear the surf was coming up to claim him again. He balled his fist in his shirt directly over his heart, and he leaned forward as his chest tightened. "I- Can't- Victor, can't breathe-"
Immediately, Victor set to work. "Look at me, alright? Just relax your tongue." Thomas gave Victor a dubious look even through his panic. "Just trust me. Relax your tongue." He pulled a pen out of his pocket and he started drawing a slow figure-eight in the air. "Follow the pen with your eyes and try to slow your breathing. I know it's hard, but just shut everything out except the pen. Deep, slow breaths."
They sat there in silence for several minutes while Thomas followed Victor's instructions with some effort and time, and to his surprise, actually managed to calm down. "How did you do that?" he asked, incredulous.
"In my line of work, you do run into a lot of panicked people," Victor put the pen away and then he stood and went to sit beside his friend. He understood how a diagnosis like this would terrify anyone, but he didn't quite understand how Thomas had gotten himself to a pub before panic had claimed him. "What happened tonight?"
At first Thomas only answered with a shrug, obviously unsure how to explain it. "I was just...sitting there. I wanted to get out of the house because I felt so trapped and I thought it would be a good idea to get something to eat. All I did all day was sit around feeling numb, not eating or doing anything except watching daytime tv and feeling nothing. So I got out and ordered food and I was fine until I was taking a drink of water and my hand shook. It was probably nothing, but that's how it starts and once it starts there is no stopping it and it just- I don't know what to do." Thomas wrapped his arms around himself as if he was trying to hold his insides from falling out and Victor wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly how he felt. "I don't want to know I won't live past 60 no matter what I do! And what about my son? I am always so careful because I'm all he has and I don't want to leave him alone. Turns out it doesn't matter what I do-"
"Thomas, you are not all Jamie has. You're the most important person in his life, yes, but he has the rest of your family. He has Kat and he has me. He won't be alone." It was probably cold comfort, but Victor felt like he should say it anyway.
With a pause, Thomas looked away. "I know that logically. Of course I do. But I feel like- Somehow if I leave him, I'm being a horrible father. And I don't want to go! I want to see him graduate university and fall in love and have kids if those are things he wants. I want to see what he goes on to do. Hell...I always sort of thought I might eventually fall in love myself, but like anyone is going to want to deal with this. It might take 15 to 20 years to kill me, but who knows if I will even recognise anyone at the end of it! I won't be able to talk or swallow. I get to slowly starve to death while having no control of my body or mind. I'm not numb any more, but I just- I don't know how to begin to process this."
"I can't help you with that," Victor lamented. "I wish I could. I really do. I'm so sorry, Thomas." Processing it seemed too difficult for Victor and he wasn't the one who had been handed a death sentence.
Thomas heaved a deep breath and he stared down at the hands he had placed in his lap. "I just feel so blind sided and horrified. And I'm- I'm scared."
Leaning forward, Victor pulled Thomas into a hug. "You're not alone there."
Pulling away, Thomas ran his fingers through his hair and then, finally, he was able to offer Victor a shaky smile. "Thanks for coming to pick me up. It means a lot to me. I was lost."
"Of course. Kat's with Jamie as well, so you can take your time." He pulled out his phone to send them a text update. "You said you ordered food but didn't get a chance to eat it. Can I make you something?" It would give him something to do, since he felt so absolutely powerless. He couldn't really help his friend and he couldn't change anything, but he could feed him and that wasn't necessarily nothing.
Taking a deep breath Thomas nodded. "Probably a good idea. I feel ridiculous."
"I am fairly sure that is the last thing you are," Victor reassured him.
"It's just-" Thomas shifted when Victor stood to fetch some food, "Goddammit. I never thought I was going to be alone forever. I mean, I've been seeing Lena but it's just casual, I think. And no one is going to want to be with someone they know they're eventually going to have to...change and care for them like a child," Thomas' face crumpled again. It was clear that Thomas didn't have to be strong here with Victor and he was going to take the opportunity to fall to pieces. And he did. "I was watching videos on Youtube before all this, trying to see what would happen to my dad. I never thought- That's going to be me. And I've been crying for days and I still feel so-" His eyes squeezed shut and he swallowed roughly as if he was fighting back tears. His arms wound around himself again and he started rocking back and forth. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Sorry. But fuck. Oh god, fuck." His tone had gone from frantic to desperate in five seconds flat.
This was more important than fetching Thomas a sandwich and Victor wasted no time in returning to his friend's side so he could pull him into a hug. He wasn't surprised at all when Thomas immediately leaned heavily against him and burst into tears. There was nothing Victor could say either, because Thomas was right. While there may be someone who wouldn't let his disease deter them from a relationship with Thomas, he would end up like the poor people he had watched in the videos. Victor had worked with someone suffering from Huntington's once and it wasn't pretty. It was a disease that robbed you of absolutely everything, including your dignity. And there was no way Victor could promise Thomas he would find someone who might look past that. Instead, he did the only thing he could do. He gave up on trying to feed Thomas and instead he held his friend, and allowed himself to be sobbed on. He hardly minded. In fact his heart broke that he couldn't do more.
Thomas' desperate sobs went on for almost an hour and by the time they finally subsided, it was evident Thomas' had exhausted himself in his grief. "Do you want to stay here?" Victor asked Thomas, whose face was puffy and red from crying. Too exhausted to even speak, Victor was only answered with a nod. He wasted no time in standing so he could help Thomas into his bedroom.
The second Thomas was led to the bed, he stretched out on it and immediately fell asleep, too tired for anything else. Returning to the living room, Victor pulled out his phone to text Jamie and Kat, so they would know how Thomas was. He had a feeling Jamie might feel better if he could be with his father, even if that meant spending the night in someone else's apartment, so he was sure to mention that they were welcome to join him. Victor had several inflatable mattresses and a sofa bed. He could cater for everyone.
He just wanted so badly to do something to help.