kaisoo ddlb oneshot collection

when it happens

When It Happens.

Summary: When it happens, daddy's here to keep him safe.

Word count: 1271

Warning: Panic attacks.  

~*~

Having anxiety sucks, a lot.

He constantly needs to be told that nothing, absolutely nothing, of his imagination will come true. Along with so many other things, and knowing that it might be a burden triggers a lot more anxiety and everything sucks. Sucks the oxygen out his lungs, sucks rational thinking from his mind, sucks consciousness from his body, and sucks tears from his eyes.

He feels pathetic, and he's trying so hard to breathe. He wants to stop moving and breathe in, out, in and out. Just like normal people do.

Organs are twisting in his small body, muscles are too heavy, his bones are too, he feels like there are heavy bricks on his shoulders, preventing him from walking. But, he is walking, dragging his body to the shop.

Jongin tries counting from one to hundred, onetwothreefour, he gasps for air, eightnineten.

The shop is two steps away, he tries to convince his mind, two steps and nobody will come and take away his dad's earned money. Or kill him and give the burden of his funeral to his parents. Or kidnap his younger brother who is alone in the house. Or kill his dad who is walking back from office. Or his mother who is gardening. Nothing. Will. Happen.

Jongin stops in his tracks. He slumps against the wall and focuses on his breathing. In, out, in, out, in, out. He imagines a triangle, and a square, then a pentagon, then a hexagon, all of them emerging from a line, slowly showing their sides and going back to being a line.

It's mild, so he doesn't need any crazy mind-reading doctor to give him pills. He tells himself and continues walking to the shop.

~*~

Anxiety and panic kicks in again.

The atmosphere is hot suddenly, someone is knocking the wind out of him, his heart is twisting and beating too hard against his rib cage again, his vision is blurring.

But, he can see a hand in front of him.

It's small, fair and it's as if someone is offering him to hold it.

He reaches out to hold, his own hand trembling, he completely falls on a smaller body, whimpering like a pathetic puppy, squeezing the daylights out the hand, it's calming his nerves, the smaller body is strong enough to keep their bodies up.

There are whispers, he can't make out what words the smaller body is producing, but they're soothing. He feels tears sting in his eyes.

Everyone is probably looking at him and whispering how weird this dude is, he's on someone else, that person looks uncomfortable, he's such a crybaby, he's crying in public, he looks so pathetic, yeah, maybe dying of cancer or something.

"You're safe," the whispers are clear, they continue after every three second pause. "Nobody is here, nothing which you think is happening..."

The other words fade away, Nothing is happening? Nobody is there?

He tries to move his hands, but they don't work. So he opens his mouth, closing it with great difficulty, clicking his tongue and hoping that made some coherent word.

"You want to sit down?"

He pushes his head back, a tear escapes from his left eye, and gravity pulls his head back down again.