ANXIETY- A Klance Fanfiction

Panic Attack

Tapping. It always started with the tapping. Lance was developing a sneaking suspicion the true start was the twitching, but no one ever noticed that. Only the ceaseless tapping. Sometimes it was just one finger, on his thigh or his arm. Sometimes it was all four of his fingers, letting out gentle noises as his nails rapped on his armor, or a table. On rare occasions, it was his entire hand, an audible pat, pat as he tapped his thigh. The noise was usually muffled by his clothes, or, when he was wearing his armor and it did make a noise, by the chatter of briefings, or gunshots, so no one noticed.

Then, the scratching started. It wasn't as noticeable as it used to be. He didn't usually wear long sleeves at home, so he could feel himself clawing at his skin, but he hadn't exposed his arms for more than the length of a shower since joining the Garrison. So the first to notice the aimless scratching at his armor was Shiro.

"Lance." The cyborg leader approached the Blue Paladin shortly after returning from a mission, while Lance was returning to his room to shed his armor.

He stopped walking and turned to look at Shiro, his gloved nails clawing at the armor on his forearm, but Lance didn't notice. "Hey Shiro. What's up?"

Shiro's eyes wandered down to Lance's useless scratching, before looking back at the boy's face. "I wanted to ask if you were feeling okay. You seemed a bit out of it today."

Lance blinked at Shiro before grinning his iconic smirk. "Wow, Shiro. This sudden worry for me might almost make me think you're coming onto me." The scratching stopped for barely a moment before acting up again, this time on his chest plate.

Shiro folded his arms a bit crossly, not only annoyed at the flirtatious comment, but at how Lance seemed to be brushing this problem aside. "As leader, it's my job to make sure everyone is in peak condition. This rule does not suspend itself for you."

Lance blinked again. Sure he'd been joking a bit, but Shiro had never quite reacted this badly. Maybe Lance had taken it a bit too far....

He shook his head to clear away the paranoid thoughts. "You didn't need to reject me so cold heartedly." When Shiro's harsh expression didn't change, Lance looked him in the eye. "But seriously, I'm feeling fine."

His scratching said otherwise.

Shiro's brow furrowed, and he murmured a soft, "alright," but nothing further was said.

The itching, the scratching, continued. Lance felt restless, sitting down for barely a moment before leaping to his feet, pacing and scratching, and scratching, and scratching. His hands just needed to be doing something, anything, to keep him busy.

And then the crippling paranoia set in.

HIs neck was sore within hours of waking up, constantly checking over his shoulder for anything. HIs skin crawled and the scratching became relentless. Rubbing and scratching and hurting.

Everything was watching, everyone was hunting him. He knew, he knew, they were coming after him. A seventh wheel- they didn't need him!

He shut himself in his room with his Bayard, never putting it away. He was pacing, and scratching, and tapping on the trigger. It felt like something was there, watching, breathing down his neck. He wasn't alone, someone was coming after him.

He couldn't sleep. The empty room felt cramped, his skin felt tight. Hot and tight, like the desert after a rain storm. It burned, and he felt cramped, but the hallway was so big, there were so many hiding places. No where was safe. He was not safe.

He didn't eat, either. The food was drugged, poisoned. The Castle was trying to kill him, his friends didn't want him. He heard tapping on his door, but it was locked. They couldn't get to him in here. They couldn't hurt him.