Henry Stickmin Oneshots And More!

Just Two Friends

Angst to fluff, Sven has a panic attack, but thankfully an old friend is there to help him.

Triggers: Panic attack, mild swearing once or twice, sad Sven, etc.

This is set after Government Supported Private Investigator but before Special BROvert Ops, so they're still building the rocket and Henry still is at the Wall.

Hope y'all have a great day or night, and I'll catch y'all later!

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His office was a disaster.

Normally he kept it neat an immaculate, but lately there had been no time. There was too much to do, too much to get done right now or very bad things would happen.

He'd started skipping his breaks. No one noticed.

He'd started sleeping less. No one cared.

He'd started drinking coffee almost constantly to make up for his lack of sleep. Did anyone care? No. They all overlooked it.

They all overlooked the fact that the young Toppat barely left his office. They all overlooked the dark circles under his eyes. They all thought he was fine.

He was not fine.

It almost physically sickened him to see the piles of papers scattered on the desk and the floor, not in any order whatsoever. It hurt to see the trash can filled with empty disposable cups that had previously held coffee. The sight of random pens, pencils and other random items laying on the desk and floor where he'd carelessly tossed them felt like a direct hit. 

He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? His ears started ringing loudly, and he couldn't hear anything else.

He dug his nails into his forearm in an attempt to ground himself. It didn't work. His world was spinning violently, and he fell to the ground, tears running freely down his face. 

He curled up in a ball, crying. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't get anything done. He was a failure.

Why was he such a goddamn failure?

"Sven?'

(About five minutes earlier)

"-And I think that maybe- are you even listening?" Carol asked sharply, changing tack mid sentence.

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," Burt fanned out his hand of cards and picked one out, laying it on the table face down. "Something about the rocket, right?"

"I don't know how someone could become Head of Communications with an attention span as short as yours," Carol said with annoyance. "To answer your question, yes, I was talking about the rocket."

"Ay, I don't have that short of an attention span," Burt said with no real offense. "I just have better things to do than listen to your chattering. Anyway, I already know about the rocket. I'm helping build it, remember?"

"Well, Mr. I-Don't-Need-To-Participate, why don't you make yourself useful for once and go deliver these to the chief?" Carol tapped a pile of paperwork in front of her. "We need Sven's go ahead to progress in any of these areas."

"Whatever." Burt stood up, slipping his deck of cards into his pocket. He didn't have anyone to play cards with, but that didn't stop him from playing alone. He had a reputation for insanity, because he was often seen playing cards against no one at all. "I'll tell him you said hi."

He picked up the paperwork and walked out to deliver it to the newest and youngest Toppat leader.

Burt shook his head as he thought about his friend. He knew what it was like to lose a loved one, and it must be worse for Sven, losing both his parents and having to step up and work through the grief at the same time.