#NoahVerria-Woods

[and-it-freezes-me]

Smashed Cups

Summary: After the way he freaked out on Tuesday, there’s no way Juniper can leave his room again. Not when his housemates might see him - they must think him a freak.

Word count: 2.5k

Content warnings: panic attack, insufficient eating, self-deprecating thoughts, anxiety

If you think anything else needs to be added, please let me know!

It was six o’clock, and he was hungry. Half past six. Seven. Seven o’clock, and he was listening at his door, trying to figure out if there was anybody in the kitchen. He couldn’t tell - the kitchen was downstairs, after all. Better not risk it. Eight o’clock. Half past eight. His stomach had been complaining quietly for the past five hours, ever since it had realised that he had skipped lunch; it was starting to get hard to ignore. Twenty minutes later, he heard the sound of footsteps passing his door - he definitely couldn’t go out now. What if they were still in the corridor? What if they saw him? He couldn’t let them see him. And then it was after nine, and they’d all be curled up on the couch together, and they’d see him if he tried to sneak past to get to the kitchen. Half nine. Ten. They’d still be there. What if they fell asleep on the couch?

And suddenly it was midnight. He couldn’t go down to get some food now. What if he knocked into something, or dropped a plate and woke everyone up?

No, he should wait until tomorrow. It wasn’t a big deal.

With a small groan, Juniper stood, and realised that his legs had taken the opportunity of his being curled up against his bedroom door for the last few hours to cramp up. Typical.

Not bothering to undress, the brunet climbed into bed and pulled his duvet up to his ears. The weight of the covers calmed him a little, and he suddenly realised how tired he was. Juniper had barely gotten any sleep the previous night, and adrenaline had been spiking through him all day. Now, though - now he could relax. Nobody was going to come looking for him in the early hours of the morning to tease or ridicule or worse, treat him as though he were made of glass. Sleep slipped over him like a shroud: dark, warm, empty of light or dreams.

The next morning, his head felt full of sand, and he was aware from the moment he awoke that his stomach was empty. What time was it? Rolling over with a quiet groan, he peered at the glowing green digits of the clock on the cabinet beside his bed: 06:27. Half six. Too early. Maybe nobody else would be awake yet - it was only the start of term, so it wasn’t as though anybody would be getting up early to prepare for a long day of classes, or else to start revising early to make sure they had a free evening. Actually,  half six was pretty early to wake up even during the middle of term.

If he was going to go to get something to eat today, now would be a good time. If he was lucky, Juniper would be able to grab enough to last him for the rest of the day - then he wouldn’t need to risk going back down to the kitchen at all. It wasn’t as though he would need to be anywhere today, after all. There was nothing wrong with hiding out for another day. Nothing wrong at all.

Despite reassuring himself that nobody would be awake to hear him, his heart was pounding in his throat as he pushed open the slightly creaky bedroom door and tip-toed across the hallway to the stairs. The small house was almost completely silent, which made the squeak of the third step of the staircase uncomfortably loud: almost enough to drive Juniper back to his room, but not quite. His stomach was protesting its emptiness quite loudly, after all - and he was suddenly half-remembering an article he might have read last year, something about the stomach starting to digest itself if left without food for too long?

The tiles of the kitchen floor were freezing on his bare feet. 

Maybe he should get something to drink while he was down here, too. If he could get enough caffeine into his system, maybe he’d be able to go over enough lecture notes to justify not having left his room since Tuesday. If anybody asked, he’d have proof that he wasn’t avoiding them, per se, proof that they didn’t need to feel guilty about not wanting him around because he was very busy anyway, and- 

Focus.

First things first, cereal. There was a half-empty pack of cornflakes in Jupiter’s kitchen cupboard; he got halfway through pouring a bowl for himself before giving up and stuffing a handful into his mouth, swallowing before he had even half finished chewing. They were uncomfortably scratchy against his dry throat, but that didn’t stop him from inhaling another two fistfuls before pausing for breath.

He had just stacked an apple and an orange on top of the small pile of food in his arms (featuring the cornflake pack, four slices of bread, a tin of tuna, two bags of crisps, and a bottle of water) and picked up his coffee awkwardly in the more free of his two hands when someone cleared their throat behind him. “Ju? What are you doing?”

Juniper choked on a fresh mouthful of cornflakes. One hand rose automatically to cover his mouth as he coughed, and the mug of coffee fell to the floor and shattered. Boiling liquid splashed over his frozen feet. “Sh- Shit! J- Jacks, I - shit!”

The food in his arms had cascaded after the coffee as he turned, landing among the shards of broken china and hot, dark liquid. The tall figure in the doorway moved forward and Juniper took a step backward, his heart already in his throat as he swallowed the last fragments of cereal.

“Ju, are-”

“I - I’ll be out of your way in a second, let me just clean up, I-”

“Ju, stop, it’s-”

“It - it was my mug, it’s not a problem, I didn’t think anyone would be up - I didn’t mean to bother you, I’ll be gone in just a-” He was rambling, already crouching to start scooping food back into his arms, the bread turning to mush under his shaking hands and the words on the back of the crisp packet beginning to blur as his breathing quickened. How could he have forgotten? Jacks was usually up first. It must be later than he thought it was, and now he had screwed up again, twice already this morning, three times if the horrible, sick feeling in his stomach grew any worse, he-

“Juniper.” Hands landed on his shoulders, and he flinched backward automatically. Looking up, he saw the thick rims of Jacks’ glasses, a frown furrowing the forehead above them. They were mad - he had screwed up and they were mad and now he was freaking out in front of them and his heart was hammering in his chest and he could barely breathe - “Juniper. It’s okay. It’s just a mug. Relax.”

“Nonononono, I - I’m sorry, I - I’ve ju-just gotta - I’m fuh-fine, I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m-” There was no way Jacks was going to be convinced by that, but Juniper’s mouth kept going, seemingly detached from the rest of his brain. His shoulders were hunched to his ears and his hands had clenched into fists and-

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay, Ju. How about we just breathe, yeah? Just for a minute. Breathe with me, that’s it. Ready?” Jacks’ voice was even, and even though Juniper shook his head his brain latched onto the words.

“Can’t - can’t, I’m fine, fine, I’m-”

“That’s okay. Let’s just try it. Ready? In. Two, three, four, and out, two, three…” But Juniper barely made it past two before exhaling again in an unsteady rush, a dry sob tearing itself from his chest. “It’s okay. No biggie. In, two, three, four… And out. Two, three, that’s okay, Ju, and in, two…”

“- I - I’m suh - I’m sorry - I’m-” There was a gentle pressure on his hands, Juniper realised suddenly - Jacks was squeezing his fists. This wasn’t how Jacks wanted to spend their time. This wasn’t how anyone would want to spend their time. He was ruining everything. Again. He couldn’t even get some food without messing up, he was just -

“In, two, three, four… You’re safe, Ju, just breathe… three, four, and out, two… That’s it… in, two, three, four…”

Juniper wasn’t sure how long they had been sat there, him hunched and shaking but gradually managing to time his breathing to his housemate’s quiet counting, Jacks cross-legged and calm, cold coffee staining trousers and feet alike, when there was movement by the door. It was obvious the second the newcomer saw the mess he had made, and Juniper felt the panic swirling back up his throat again as he flinched backward. Not someone else seeing him like this. He couldn’t bear the idea that Jacks was here for this, let alone the idea of anybody else watching him tear to pieces.

“J, what’s - fuck, what the fuck? Juniper, are-”

“Come back later, Noah. Everything’s going to be okay. That’s it, Ju, just focus on me, it’s okay…”

“Are you sure? I can clean up - fuck, you need help and-”

“Go away, Noah. Go back to bed.”

“No, I - I want to help, J, Ju, what can I do?”

Jacks seemed to know what Juniper was thinking even before he started shaking his head, ragged breathing shifting back toward unsteady gasps as the iron bands around his chest tightened. “Fuck. Off, Noah.”

Silence. Silence, other than his panicked breathing and his quiet sobs and - and then footsteps, and the blurry figure in the doorway was gone. Jacks exhaled slowly before turning back to look at him with red-rimmed eyes, and guilt rose like bile in Juniper’s throat.

“I - I’m sorry - Juh- Jacks, he’s - you shuh - shouldn’t ha-”

“He’ll forgive me. He’s just worried about you, Juniper. We both are. Do you want to try breathing again?”

“He’s yuh-your -”

“We’re going to go back to the breathing. Forget about Noah. Inhale, that’s it, one, two, three, four… And out again, two, three, four… Inhale…”

Gradually, painfully slowly, Juniper found himself calming down. Jacks’ voice was easy to focus on, it was steady and tranquil and safe. They weren’t mad. They weren’t angry with him, not like they should be, not like he deserved them to be. When his shoulders finally slumped, Jacks gave him a soft, encouraging smile, and squeezed his hands again. “There we go…”

“I’m sorry…” He had said it before, of course, said it many times already that morning, but now Juniper’s voice was a hoarse whisper and no longer shaking. The dark-haired person in front of him shook their head and reached up to rest a hand against his cheek, thumb swiping at the remaining tears in the corner of his eye.

“You don’t have to apologise, Ju. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

A few seconds passed in in silence again, a quieter silence than before. When Juniper looked up through his untidy bangs at his companion, Jacks seemed to be chewing on the inside of their cheek. He didn’t really have the energy to be properly worried about what his housemate was thinking, but when Jacks didn’t volunteer it immediately Juniper took a slow breath.

“What is it?” Did his voice have to be so scratchy? He sounded pathetic. Then again, wasn’t he?

“I’m just thinking.” Jacks paused, and Juniper’s stomach gave a weak jolt. It had to be something bad, or the other wouldn’t be spending so long trying to corral their thoughts into working order.

“... About?”

“You. This.” Something must have shown on his face, because this time Jacks rushed to fill the silence. “Nothing bad, I promise. I’m just… Worried. Something happened on Tuesday night, and then nobody saw you yesterday, and then this h-”

“I’m sorr-”

“Ju, please stop apologising. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just - ugh.” The hand that had been cupping Juniper’s cheek had dropped to rest against its owner’s knee, fingers dipping briefly into the cold-coffee puddle between them, and Jacks seemed to realise the mess they were sitting in. “Ew. We’re both gross now…”

“S - I mean, I’ll clean it up, let m-” Juniper’s words were cut off yet again as Jacks waved a slender hand.

“I’ll get it. Always cleaning up after people, that’s me - and don’t you dare apologise, that was a joke really.” Dark eyes ran briefly over Juniper’s half-slumped figure, taking in his messy hair and rumpled hoodie, coffee-stained pyjama trousers and bare feet now purple with cold and red where the boiling liquid had splashed across them. Juniper wanted to apologise again. He was a mess, and Jacks had just had to spend he didn’t know how long calming him down, and now they were going to clean up after him? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all. Still, he held his tongue, and then Jacks was standing and extending a hand to pull him to his feet. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You, Juniper Washing Machine Owens -”

A weak chuckle left his chest, and they beamed at him. “Not even close, and you know it.”

“- are going to go upstairs and take a shower, and then you’re going to put on some fresh clothes, and then you’re going to get your ass back down here and eat whatever I can persuade Noah to make. I’d like to talk about this later, though. If that’s okay with you.”

Juniper hesitated, eyes darting away from his housemate and toward the floor, and Jacks caught the motion. They squeezed his hand gently again.

“Nothing bad. Promise. I just want to make sure you’re alright. Go on, dude. Go shower. I’ve got caffeinated bread mush to clean up. Go on. Get out of here.”

He hesitated a moment longer; Jacks waved a hand at him in a shoo-ing motion and Juniper chuckled again in spite of himself. Nodding once, he made his way slowly out of the kitchen, trying to ignore how numb his feet had become. He was half way up the stairs when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a green-haired figure slipping into the kitchen and heard the murmur of voices. Were they talking about him? Had Jacks been lying when they sa- Then Juniper remembered Noah trying to help, and Jacks’ reaction, and felt guilty again. He appreciated Jacks sending their boyfriend away, but… No, they were going to be okay. It hadn’t even been a fight, really, and Jacks and Noah were really good together. He could apologise to Noah later, and if there was a problem he could pull the blame onto himself. It would be okay.

And then he was outside his bedroom door again, and he had to focus on finding clean clothes.

Half an hour later, curled up under a blanket on the battered blue couch in the main room and clutching a plate of pancakes almost shaped like octopi, Juniper had to admit that he felt a little better. Jacks hadn’t been angry with him. Noah didn’t think he was a freak. Quint, apparently, hadn’t even noticed him freaking out on Tuesday, and had been mildly concerned not to see him the previous day (of course, that was just what Jacks and Noah said - Quint was rarely up before eleven - but they had no reason to lie to him). They didn’t think he was stupid, or crazy.

They just wanted him to be alright.

And, for now, he was.