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Angstpril 2024 | Day 27 | Prompt 27: Panicked
Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt: Paralyzed by Fear
Rated: G | Words: 446 | Summary: Crosshair struggles as they approach the facility on Tantiss. | Character Focus: Crosshair, Hunter, Wrecker
“...with me, Cross, breathe with me,” Hunter’s voice is saying.
“I can’t, I can’t,” Crosshair chokes out, “I can’t go back, Hunter, please…”
Hunter pulls back a moment and takes off his helmet, allowing Crosshair to see his face. “Listen to me,” he says, reaching out and catching Crosshair’s trembling hand. He holds it tight, and it hurts, the way Crosshair’s knuckles grind together in Hunter’s grip. “I’m not going to let them take you. You will not be their prisoner again.”
“You don’t know that,” Crosshair whispers, “You can’t promise that. We promised Omega…”
“I know,” Hunter breathes. He leans forward, presses his forehead against Crosshair’s. “I know. But I will give my life before I let them take any of you again. That I can promise you.”
Crosshair doesn’t like that promise. He doesn’t want that promise. “Don’t say that,” he growls, though the quaking panic rattling his lungs makes it come out like a broken sob. Maybe it is.
But Hunter doesn’t retract the promise as he pulls away, still gripping Crosshair’s hand.
“Sarge,” Wrecker says, standing over them, watching for patrols while Crosshair falls apart. “We gotta…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, doesn’t need to.
We gotta go. We gotta go into the facility. We gotta find our sister. We gotta…we gotta…gotta…gotta…
Crosshair hates the whining sound he makes as another wave of panic crashes over him. I can’t. I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me do this. Hunter…please…
Crosshair realizes he’s been verbalizing the thoughts of his tortured mind, letting them escape his lips like blood from a seeping wound, when Hunter replies to the spiral of anxiety.
“Our chances are better together, Crosshair,” Hunter says, gentle firmness and calm. “We need you. Omega needs you.” And Hunter continues to exaggerate steady breaths, wordlessly inviting Crosshair to follow the pattern. He tries, pulling quavering breaths and shuddering exhales. Weak, weak, weak, weak…
“Cross,” Wrecker says, “You know we got your back, right?”
Crosshair manages to lift his head, look up into the familiar, expressionless visor of his biggest brother. He can’t trust his voice, so he simply nods, short and tight.
Wrecker tips his head. “You can trust us,” he offers, and then adds, carefully, “and we trust you. You got our backs too, yeah?”
Crosshair’s throat constricts, but this time it isn’t the panic or anxiety that makes it hard to breathe. He forces another steady breath. And another. And another.
They trust him. They’re counting on him. His brothers. His sister.
“Yeah,” he finally answers when he can trust his voice not to fracture on the syllable.
He has to do this.
END
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Real talk. As someone who has generalized anxiety disorder and depression (both lifelong and both treated), the end of TBB season 2 wrecked me. I cried for over a week like someone I actually knew had died. I have watched the season 3 trailer without sound (as the anxiety gods demand) and am now going to go back to the safe space of my art and fics and try VERY hard not to obsessively worry for a month. I feel incredibly ridiculous when I get like this over fiction (imagine how I deal with real life), but there it is. Every part of my body is crossed that we get a happy ending. Although honestly I may have to stay off Tumblr for a bit if it takes me a while to force myself to watch it.
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