Intermittent Tremor [Andy]

[Charlie Daniel Wallace]

It wasn't like this was something that happened all the time. It wasn't, honest. Just when things got too overwhelming or specific triggers were pushed, and that was fine. Walker, his stepfather, had said it was fine, told Charlie that this was normal, that it would fade. That somehow didn't make the experience any less terrifying, fresh and sharp like every time before.

Today, it had been a collection of little things.

His mother had written. She had just found out about St. Helena's, months too late, and sent him a scolding letter rife with condescending pity, making it sound as if it was his own fault he was here. It was a post card. He wasn't worth the effort and time it took to write a full, proper letter. He had ripped the post card into small pieces and dumped them out the window, and tried not to watch too wistfully as they swirled away in the chill November wind. He'd gone on as usual, after that, though there was a catch in his breath and a fault in his smile, and he'd overcompensated with too much flirting and not enough substance, hiding behind a camera lens and forgetting the answers to the questions teachers asked. It was just a faulty step, nothing more, and he could have -had, before- gotten through the day that way.

And then third period came, and the faulty step turned into a stumble. He was normally ahead of the crowd, ready to jump out of class the second the doors opened and beat the rush, or willing to linger behind as everyone filed out the door. He was always careful not to be stuck in the middle. Preoccupied, today his timing was off. He was crushed between a wall of chattering, laughing students, and it was everywhere. Voices and bodies and warmth that burned too hot.

Charlie wasn't- He couldn't, he couldn't- The crush of bodies was too big, the wall of people on all sides too close, pressing in, covering him- He couldn't breathe and-

Claustrophobia was not always activated by being locked in closets.

He had stumbled away, a desire to retreat to his room (alone alone safe alone) burning in his chest, but Charlie hated to be alone. He couldn't be alone. Alone meant empty, alone meant abandoned, alone had always meant his mother didn't want him. He couldn't be there, among everything that was too close and too bright, and he couldn't be alone. His two greatest fears warred in his chest and left him feeling broken, shattered, and that was when he knew what was about to happen.

He had taken off down the hall and hunkered down in a silent, empty hallway, unsure where exactly he was. His breath came short and silent, tearless sobs wracked his throat, his body, his torso shaking and heaving but he didn't cry, he never cried, he just couldn't breathe-

This was how it worked. It never got any easier.

He never told a soul. Walker was the only one who knew, Walker and his therapist. He made a joke whenever anyone else asked why he had come to St. Helena's, why he was here, diverted their attention until they were laughing or blushing and no longer prying, and the idea of being found seared him with shame.

It never got any easier, and it never got less lonely.

[/blockquote]

[Andy Ray Cook]

- YOU HID THERE LAST TIME - - - - - - - - -
YOU KNOW WE'RE GOING TO FIND YOU

Andy was a free spirit, to say it nicely. His head, to most people, seemed completely empty. He was usually late to class, whatever. He usually was. Teachers accepted it and rarely even commented on it anymore. Andy spent his fair share of afternoons in the detention room because of this, it was normal. Teachers stopped telling him when he had detention, he already knew. Detention had become a weekly class, for lack of a better term. Immediately after his last Friday class he reported to detention, it was the only thing he ever seemed to be on time for. He met lots of people there and flirted, Andy style. Even the detention monitor knew that no matter how many times they told him he wouldn’t shut up. They barely went through the motions anymore.

He smiled merrily as he bounced down the hallway to class. The halls were emptying out, which was weird. When Andy was usually on his way to class the halls were empty. Sometimes he pretended he was walking through an abandoned school on his way to class. It was kind of fun. Andy and Algebra I had an okay relationship. It was probably one of the only classes that he really was okay with. He liked math a little, but the best part of that class was Charlie. He didn’t know why he liked Charlie so much though. Usually he liked lots of people, but Charlie was special. He was one of the few people Andy didn’t flirt with a whole lot. The kid was hot, but it was weird. Andy hadn’t felt that way about another person, ever. If he found someone hot he usually flirted with them and tried to have sexy times with them. Maybe he wanted a different sexy time with him? He shrugged.

Speak of the devil. Andy’s face lit up a little as he watched Charlie go past him. Wait, that wasn’t the way to math. He frowned defiantly. That wouldn’t work. Andy stopped walking and turned on his heels and walked after his friend. It took him a minute to find the right place, but he made it. It was kind of scary. Maybe he’d come back here with Chandler later. It looked really unused. It was cool. Maybe they could play tag here. He could even go get Rory! Or not. No, not Rory. Rory had ruined a sacred bond between brothers.

His eyes caught sight of Charlie. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. It scared him. Andy dropped his backpack and walked towards him. His breathing was off, it was scary. The sounds that were coming from him freaked him out to. ”Charlie?” he asked softly, squatting near his friend. Was he having an asthma attack? He gnawed on his lip gently. What was he supposed to do? Was this where you gave someone CPR? Why hadn’t he listened in science class? ”Do you need an inhaler?”

[/b] he asked innocently. He felt more stupid than normal. It didn’t sound like an asthma attack. Was he crying? Andy was starting to panic. What if he was dying and he couldn’t do anything about it?


”Please don’t die!” Andy exclaimed, always the dramatic. Andy rethought his words for a second, ”I’ll be sad if you do.”[/b] he elaborated a little.


[/justify][/color][/size]
[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Charlie Daniel Wallace]

It took long moments after Andy had spoken for her words to break through the haze that had overcome Charlie's mind, a thick and obscuring fog that made everything feel a little farther away. It could have been because of his panic, but it just as easily could have been caused by the lack of proper oxygen caused by his hyperventilation. As a child, he had fainted the first few times he hyperventilated, but he had learned how to manage it before he blacked out by now, forcing himself to calm his breathing while the fear still hammered away at his insides. He attempted this now, hearing Andy speak without actually understanding her words. When he came to, his breathing calmer but still abrupt and awkward, his chest brushing against the material of his shirt, the buttons pressing into his skin. Andy was standing above him, looking at him with concern and a childishly curious expression, and Charlie felt his skin flush hot with shame. He didn't like people seeing him like this, not even Andy, who had never seen it before and wasn't likely to understand.

Especially not Andy. Andy wasn't afraid of anything. She couldn't possibly understand what had driven Charlie to this deserted corner of the school, embraced by a feeling he wished he could control. She was probably so goddamn confused. He was nothing like this when he wasn't panicking the way he had.

Charlie took a few more deep breaths, carding a hand through his hair and mussing it so that it stuck up a bit in front. He shot Andy a brave smile that took more effort than it should have, still shivering beneath the warmth of his coat. It was November in Washington, and even inside the school the chill was at times pervasive, especially in the open halls where a cracked window at the other end of the school could cause you to feel cold as the sensation spread. "I'm not-" He broke off, voice wrecked and hoarse from tears he hadn't actually cried, which didn't seem fair. He shouldn't have to deal with problems like that when he had held them back so well. "I'm not dying, Andy. Promise." He looked up at her, shaking his head quickly to clear it, and resisting the urge to just curl up and not move until tomorrow, preferably with Andy with him. "I'm okay." It was a lie, but there was truth in it somewhere. He wasn't okay right now, but he would be. He knew this well. He had certainly done this enough times before to know that. "What're you doing out here?" He tried, in a desperate attempt to change the subject. "Shouldn't you be in math?"



OOC: For the record, using female pronouns for Andy was SO DIFFICULT.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]