Why Don't We Sickfics

PTSD, Pt. 2

(This is Part 2, read Part 1 first to understand what's going on. It's the chapter directly before this)

"Help!" Zach shouted. "Something's wrong with Corbyn!"

The boys came running.

Jonah got there first. "What happened? Did he hurt his shoulder?"

Zach shook his head. "I don't know. I thought it would be funny if I pranked him with an exploding smoke bomb. I didn't know what would happen. I'm sorry."

Daniel stared at the blonde boy, his blue eyes widening in fear. "Jonah, what's happening to him?"

"I don't know." Jonah said, his eyes anxiously traveling over the trembling boy. "I don't know."

Jack frowned. "You tried to prank him with a smoke bomb?"

Zach nodded.

"I think you triggered something in his head. I think you brought back memories of the shooting. "

Zach was pale. "No... I didn't mean to... Is he going to be okay?"

"I hope so." Jack whispered.

Jonah frowned. "Let's give him some space, let him relax a little." Carefully, the oldest boy cradled Corbyn in his arms, walked back into the bedroom, and put him onto his bed. He looked so... weak. So vulnerable. So small. Like a kicked puppy, like a scared kitten...

The boys quietly returned downstairs, but Jonah stayed in Corbyn's room a while longer. He gently rubbed the younger boy's back. "Relax. It's okay. Everything is okay. You're safe. I love you."

He repeated the words over and over, watching Corbyn's breathing slow down, watching his hands shake less and less. He held the boy in a gentle embrace, hugging him as carefully as possible as he whispered the soothing words into his ear.

When Corbyn was finally breathing slowly enough to speak, he looked up into the older boy's eyes.

Jonah's heart shattered at the sight of the tearstained green eyes.

Corbyn took a shuddery breath. "Jonah?"

"Mhm?" The sound of his voice vibrated through Jonah's chest, creating a satisfying hum against Corbyn's back.

"Promise you'll never let go?"

Jonah's heart surged at the words, a warmth filling him. It was just-- so precious, so heartbreaking, so vulnerable...

"Of course." Jonah whispered.

~~~~~~

Corbyn took a long nap after lunch. In reality, he was hiding in his room, lying on his bed, feeling the tears streak across his face and bury themselves in his pillow. He didn't want to think about the pain. The thoughts just kept invading his mind, burrowing themselves into his conscience. He couldn't think about his family or his friends or the victims of the shooting without feeling guilty. He couldn't think about life. It was all so scary. He needed someone-- something-- to get him out of this, but he didn't know how.

Downstairs, the boys were quietly conferring.

"I think it might be some sort of PTSD." Jack muttered. "It only sounds right."

None of the boys looked surprised at all, and Jack realized he wasn't the only one who had figured it out.

Daniel nodded. "But what can we do?"

Jonah shook his head. "I don't know. The only way to make this go away is to go back in time and fix everything. But if we can't do that, all we can do is try to help him."