"What are you doing?"
Mike walked into the bathroom where his wife was examining her face in the mirror. When he got closer, he noticed tears in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" Mike stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. She stepped back from the mirror and Mike noticed a small bruise on her forehead.
"I tripped on the stairs today, I'm okay, I just bumped my forehead on the railing. But I-I-" Carrie began to cry, letting her head lower into her hands.
Mike immediately turned her around and pulled her into his arms. He knew exactly what was going on in her mind and he wanted more than anything to stop it.
"Shh, it's okay. It's okay." He rubbed her back, holding her close against his body as she sobbed. It was rare that she did this anymore, but every so often, something would trigger her and she'd have a bad panic attack.
"Come on, lets go sit down." Mike led her out of the bathroom and over to their bed. She held onto him tightly, barely able to stand on her own. She couldn't stop crying, she could barely breathe.
"It's okay. It's okay." He repeated multiple times, holding her in his embrace as she cried hysterically.
Carrie sobbed, clasping her hands over her ears to try to stop the flashbacks. The night Sam had thrown her down the stairs played over and over, taking control of her every thought. Her brain was swarming. Every horrible word Sam had said to her that night was echoing though her mind, screaming at her. She could see it all so vividly.
Mike squeezed his eyes closed, taking a deep breath. He wanted to stop the flashbacks, the pain, the hurt, the everything.
It was rare that she had panic attacks like this. She'd only had a small handful since Mike had known her.
It killed him to see her like this because there was nothing he could do to fix it. He had learned now that all he could do was hold her as she cried. He had had to let her ride it out on her own.
After what felt like hours to Mike, Carrie's cries began to soften. Her body went limp in his arms as she gave up fighting. This has been one of her worst panic attacks.
"You're okay." He whispered, his hands continually threading through her blonde waves. "It's okay."
"I-I-" she struggled to speak, trying to make herself take deep breaths and let her heart rate go down.
"I know." Mike gently wiped the wet tears from under her eyes with the pad of his thumb.
"You don't have to explain. I know." Mike's voice was soft and gentle, which helped Carrie to relax. He pushed the short blonde strands out of her face, tucking them behind her ear.
Carrie inhaled deeply, then let the breath out very slowly.
"Can I get you some hot tea or something?" Mike asked, rubbing her knee. She nodded softly.
"That'd be good." She said quietly. Her voice was scratchy.
"Are you okay? I'll be quick."
Carrie nodded again.
"Just lay down for a minute. Keep taking deep breaths. I'll be right back." Mike kissed her forehead softly.
He left the bedroom, jogging down the stairs quickly into the kitchen. He was afraid to leave her for long. He reached up and grabbed her favorite mug from the cabinet, filling it with water and placing it in the microwave. While it heated, he picked out a calming lavender tea.
Mike tapped his fingers anxiously against the counter, watching the seconds go down slowly on the microwave screen. He was thankful that Madeline was at school and wouldn't be home for a few more hours. He didn't want her to see Carrie like this.
When the microwave dinged, he pulled the mug out and placed the tea bag in the cup. Once it was fixed just like she liked it, he walked back upstairs.
Carrie was still sitting on the bed, but she'd moved so that she was leaning against the headboard. He knees were bent up and she sat silently looking at her fingers. She was still taking deep breaths. Mike could tell she was deep in thought.
"Here you go princess." He said softly, causing her to look up. She took it, wrapping both hands around the warm mug.
"Can I get you anything else?"
Carrie shook her head, taking a sip of tea. "Just lay with me please."
Mike slid in on the other side of her. He sat against the headboard, wrapping his arm around his wife. She snuggled against him, sitting up just enough to hold her tea. She felt safe in his arms.
The couple sat in silence. Carrie sipped her tea slowly, still taking deep breaths. Her heart rate was finally slowing down back to normal.
"Can you set this over there?" Carrie handed Mike her almost empty mug, letting him reach over and put it on the bedside table.
She returned to her position against him and pulled the blanket up higher and burrowing her head deeper into his side.
"Go to sleep princess." Mike kissed her head. "You need some rest."
Mike was right. Carrie was exhausted. She was completely warn out. Panic attacks took all of her energy. It usually took her the entire day to recover from them. They emotionally and physically drained her.
Carrie slid down a little, her head resting on Mike's lap. Mike continued to run his fingers through her hair that was sprawled out across her head.
Carrie fell asleep quickly. Mike watched her sleep, admiring her beauty. He thought back on the past ten years he'd known her. He thought about the panic attacks she's had, the days that she'd cry over his words, making herself think she was useless, ugly, or stupid like he'd told her so many times. He thought about the many difficulties she'd faced in their relationship, struggling to trust him and do things normal couples did without hesitation. He remembered the first panic attack he'd witnessed, the night before their wedding. He had no clue what to do. He thought she was going to back out of the wedding and leave him. But she didn't, and together they worked through it, just as they continued to do each time this happened throughout their marriage.
Mike smiled, bending down and planting a slow kiss on her head.
"I love you sweetheart."
