Bang Chan Oneshots

Panic

TW: anxiety, panic attack

sickfic

Chan is struggling.

It's not exactly obvious to anyone, but he knows his kids can see.

There are times when an all-consuming fear overtakes him, paralysing him, and all he can do is lay there, hoping and praying for it to be over, tears streaming down his face.

It took him years to learn the feeling was called anxiety, and that there were ways to combat it.

Ever since then, he's managed for the most part.

He has his days, much like anyone, and it seems like today will be one of them.

The moment he opens his eyes, adrenaline floods his veins, he wants nothing more than to close them again, ignore the outside world for the day.

But of course, he has a fucking packed schedule.

And he's too jittery to even dream of falling asleep.

It only spirals when Jisung bursts into his room, the door slamming into the wall.

His stomach contents threaten to crawl up his throat, and pure adrenaline rushes through his body. He sits straight up, grabbing a pillow to use as a shield.

He has to fight the tears that are trying to choke him, and pastes a wan smile on his face.

"Morning, Sungie."

Jisung's loud, energetic in his greeting, and any other day Chan would enjoy the younger's enthusiasm, his sparkle. Today, it makes him want to burst into tears.

Jisung struggles with the same thing, he knows that. The difference is that the rapper is open about it, asking for help when he needs it. Chan wishes he could, but as the leader and the eldest, he has too much responsibility.

He can't have them see him as weak.

He dutifully pulls himself out of bed the moment Jisung leaves, inwardly groaning at the rush of vertigo.

Nothing feels real.

He's in a dream, acting out the moments of everyday life.

He skips coffee, knowing he'll regret it later when he's fighting back sleep at the studio, but he can't risk the panic attack that will come with the caffeine.

If anyone notices anything is off, they don't press.

He's grateful for it.

The studio is too loud, too bright, too much. He struggles through rehearsal, missing the easiest of steps, so many that Minho pulls him aside to interrogate him.

"Hyung, what's wrong? You're generally more on top of it than this."

Chan's throat closes up, something pinching tightly.

"I-I don't know. I think it's just...an off day, or something."

He inwardly curses himself for even admitting something is wrong. Now Minho will press more than ever until he feels adequately satisfied with Chan's answer.