#because I think about the Panic Attacks in Cruller's Correspondence

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Day 8: Panic attacks / Dissociation / Seizure Characters: Ford Cruller, Helmut Fullbear, Bob Zanotto Warnings: Panic attack Summary: It had always been someone else helping him. Helmut had never had to help someone else with one of these before.

"Helmut?" Compton said, glancing over at the untouched tea cup sitting by an empty bean bag chair. "Could you check on Ford? He seems to be taking a while with the mail, and his tea is getting cold."

"Hm? Sure." Helmut levitated off his own bean bag chair and carefully TK'd his teacup to the floor before turning to Bob. "Wanna come with?"

Bob shrugged, hopping up as well and linking hands with his husband. "Hope it's just another case of him being mad I ordered more fertilizer," he said once they were out of the Heptadome.

"Maybe," Helmut said, then hummed. "Though the last time that happened, he just teleported to your greenhouse and told you to pick it up yourself."

Chuckling, Bob rolled his eyes. "As though he couldn't just teleport it himself." His voice took on a slightly higher pitch in imitation of Ford's: "It's the principle of the thing! I'll teleport myself fifty feet up in the air if I gotta, but you can move your crap yourself!"

Helmut laughed, but Bob grew quiet as they neared the woods. "You all right, Bobby?"

"Yeah, but... um..." He was suddenly very interested in the grass at his feet. "You think it... could be news?"

"Oh." Helmut forced a smile. "Well, maybe it's good news! Maybe Lucy's on her way home! And Ford's just... so excited he forgot to tell us?"

The insects were awfully loud today, and the noise itched at the back of Helmut's skull.

"...Maybe there's no news at all," Bob finally said.

"Yeah." Helmut squeezed his husband's hand. "Maybe."

They stayed quiet as they made their way down the forest path toward their mailboxes. Just as Helmut was about to remark how strange it was that they hadn't seen or heard Ford yet, a sound reached his ears.

The sound of panicked gasping.

Helmut's eyes widened, and he let go of Bob's hand, charging forward to find Ford bracing his hand against a tree, his face pale as his chest heaved. His eyes had gone unfocused, looking in different directions.

"FORD!" Helmut cried, hurrying up to his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?!"

Ford did not answer, or even acknowledge Helmut in any way.

Helmut felt his skin crawl—he had never seen Ford like this. Ford was always so down-to-earth, he hadn't thought it possible for him to ever get this shaken. Frantically he turned to Bob, whose attention had been drawn to a pile of mail on the ground. It didn't take him long to piece together what might have happened.

Taking a deep breath, Helmut guided Ford away from the tree. "Okay, okay... C'mere, Ford-truck."

Ford was shaking badly, but did not stop Helmut as he helped him down to a seated position on the ground.

"You're gonna be okay." Gently Helmut wrapped an arm around Ford and squeezed one of his hands. "I've got ya."

Though he tried to keep calm outwardly, inwardly he frantically tried to recall the methods Bob would use to help him through his freakouts. There was also the fear of just what was in the mail that caused Ford to react this way, but he tried to push that aside and focus on the more immediate problem.

"Just slow down, breathe," Helmut went on. "I know you're freaking out right now, but you're not alone, all right? Bob and I are here to help, and Cassie, and Compton, and Otto—"

"O-Otto..." Ford stammered, taking a few more breaths. "Otto... c-couldn't... h-help his way out of a..."

Helmut laughed, some of the tension loosening in his chest—it was good to hear Ford talking at least. "Well, we'll see what Otto can do."

"Pah..." Ford waved a shaky hand dismissively. But shortly after, he fell into trembling quietly again, his head hanging and eyes staring at nothing.

Meanwhile, Helmut realized he was being watched, and his head shot up to find Bob holding one of the letters in his hands, his face pale. "...Bob?" he whispered, his heart hammering in his chest.

"We gotta talk... to the others," Ford said, his voice distant.

"What?" Helmut looked down at Ford, eyes wide, though he was almost certain what he would hear.

Finally Ford looked up, staring Helmut in the eyes. "It's Lucy."