The Runt of the Litter

PNES

Note: Hey babes <3 Thank you so much for all the love!

This one is pretty long, so get comfy!

This chapter deals with seizures, specifically psychogenic non-epileptic seizures. I wanna just clarify that I have PNES, and so this is heavily based on my own experience. The biggest difference between me and Anna in this chapter is that I don't fully lose consciousness during my episodes. My seizures also happen a lot more frequently than Anna's do, but I, too, have periods where they don't happen much at all and then periods where they're constantly happening.

All the medical stuff-- doctor's advice and explanations-- is stuff I've heard myself from doctors and neurologists. I also did some additional research to make sure it would all be pretty accurate.

If you read and have any questions, feel free to ask.

Anyway, enjoy getting to know another side of Anna's life. She's seventeen in this.

PNES

Anna slammed the door to her room and stormed out, tears at the corners of her eyes. Fucking Ian. Stupid fucking Ian. She had enough other shit to worry about without him being a jerk to her on top of that.

A door swung open just ahead, and Dean stepped out. His eyebrows popped up when he saw her tense shoulders and clenched jaw.

"What's the matter with you?" Dean asked with just a tad too much judgment in his voice.

"Nothing!" Anna snapped at him and charged on ahead.

She need an iced coffee. Hell, she need a beer, but she would settle for an iced coffee.

There was a throbbing pain that pinched at her forehead right above her eye, and her sorta-boyfriend was criticizing her for wanting to spend time with Kate this weekend, and, on top of that, she had fucking homework.

This had been a shitty day from the minute she woke up, and her emotions were reaching a boiling point.

"Okay," Dean chuffed and raised his hands in surrender as she passed him. "You just look kind of, uh, pissed."

Anna narrowed her eyes but didn't look over her shoulder as Dean started to follow her down the hallway. She was angry. And it was showing from the heaviness of her footsteps to the lines between her eyes. But it had nothing to do with him, so she wished he would just leave her the hell alone before she started being a jerk to him.

"Anna?" he said knowingly.

"What?" Anna finally asked and spun around so quickly that Dean almost bumped into her. She crossed her arms over her chest. But, for some reason, her head was throbbing ten times worse– the pain still in that one spot above her eye– now that she'd stopped moving, so she had to lift one hand to her head.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked with forced patience and a trace of humor.

Anna frowned, trying to displace her headache and express her disapproval at the same time. "I'm stressed," she said and sighed quickly. Stressed was an understatement. She was alternating between depressed, pissed off, and panicked. It was the classic trio of teenage emotions. At least, it was the classic trio of a mentally ill teenager's emotions.

God, her head hurt.

"Uh-huh," Dean said. He frowned when Anna scrunched her face up tighter against the pain in her head. "You okay?"

Anna's face stayed scrunched, but she opened one eye and nodded. She was starting to feel nauseous, and the feeling got rapidly worse.

"Hey." Dean moved closer to her, and Anna suddenly felt lightheaded. She reached blindly for the wall, and Dean caught her by the elbows instead with a, "Whoa. Easy."