Petrichor - e.mikaelson

18

tw: anxiety attack, abuse

If not for Elijahs hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently awake with a frown on his face, Frankie wouldn't have realised she'd been crying as she slept. She'd been whimpering too, that was what had drawn his attention, shaking and whimpering and he could even hear her begging softly, pleading with her brother.

"Francesca," Elijah said quietly, a frown covering his face as she flinched away from his words, "Frankie darling, please wake up."

Though her heart was pounding and she was terrified as she slept, when she finally stirred awake it was as though everything had magnified, her heart speeding up faster and her breath catching in her throat. She barely tugged her eyelids open before she was forced to squeeze them shut again, blinking desperately as though trying to escape from the nightmare that was reality.

The moment she realised she was awake was the moment she realised she was dying, that she couldn't breathe with her breaths catching in her throat quicker than she could force the air down. Her heart was racing so quickly she knew it was only moments before the force of its effort tugged itself from her chest. The tears running down her face were almost innocuous though they surprised her as the splashed onto her hands. With her breath catching in her throat, it was as though with each desperate gasp for air she was tugged deeper below water.

"Breathe Frankie," Elijah said beside her, his words steady and smooth, "breathe."

Elijah was in the seat beside her now, the armrest had been raised up so there was nothing between them and his eyes were locked on her while hers were glazed over, unable to return to reality as the terror of her dream ran over and over in her head.

"I'm dying," she gasped out at last, a slither of air entering her lungs, enough to push her desperate pleas out, "I can't breathe, I'm dying."

"You're not dying," Elijah told her softly, moving slowly as he tugged her head towards his chest and wrapped his arms around her, "You're having a panic attack, you'll be alright soon. Listen to my heart Frankie, focus on my heart, can you hear it?" here he paused for a moment, his hand was moving slowly through her hair and he felt her nod softly though she still couldn't speak, too focused on gasping out, on trying to breathe, "Good, good, count it out. Count the beats out."

"Make it stop," she begged, "I can't breathe."

"You're going to be okay, I promise you, I will never let anything happen to you. Long deep breaths, focus on my heart and the sound of my voice. You'll be okay. You'll be okay."

Elijah's eyes were shut as his fingers ran through her hair, he continued to whisper softly to her but with his eyes shut he could focus on the sounds, focus on the sound of her racing heart begin to steady, of her desperate breaths evening out.

"I'm sorry," she murmured she finally emerged from the anxiety, when she realised that she was alive and that she wasn't going to die from her terror. She couldn't bring herself to tug her head from his chest, she couldn't face the embarrassment that was going to encompass her body when she saw the pity in his eyes.