𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕖 ⋆ 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕤

𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕖.

Emerson could feel it coming; the stress of touring and constantly having people nearby had finally caught up with him that morning and he'd spent most of the afternoon anticipating an oncoming panic attack. His brothers had noticed within an hour of him rolling out of his bunk, having come to expect it eventually, and had kept a close eye on him all day without coming too close.

Sebastian, the ever-observant older brother he was, had simply handed him the pens and paper that he'd left in his bunk and left him be. Emerson had noticed the glances exchanged between the two and Remington's worried expression as he looked to the younger. They'd let him sit and draw for hours, up until they arrived at the venue, when Seb nudged him and told him they had to go inside.

He'd managed his way through soundcheck, ignoring the concerned looks from Remington and making sure everything was set up correctly without fully thinking about it. After that, he'd left the stage and just wandered for a while backstage.

A few hours later, they were set to go onstage. Remi had risked making his brother's mood worse and asked if he was okay - it wasn't that he didn't appreciate his brothers' concern, but that he found it wasn't helping him in that moment. Emerson had answered simply (because he knew that they'd only worry more if he actually told them how he felt) and moved slightly closer to the door.

While they performed, he forced everything out onto the drums: his anger, the stress of everything, any energy he had was pushed out and away from him. He saw Sebastian's glances even when he tried to hide them, noticed how close he walked to Remington during the show to make him aware of Emerson's state.

They hid it from the crowd well; while they all knew how supportive their fans were, they also knew that it'd only make him feel worse to have countless people all asking if he felt alright.

Emerson got through the show easily enough, and hoped that by the time they were offstage he'd feel better. He didn't, and when Sebastian asked him afterwards if he needed space, he had to bite his tongue not to tell him how he felt.

They had been stood together, greeting the fans cheerfully, when Emerson couldn't get through it any more. He'd started shifting restlessly and at one point tugged on Sebastian's sleeve to catch his attention. He'd tried to focus on the group in front of them, had told the young girl just how good her drawings were - he really was proud when he told his fans how good they were at art - and thus missed the gesturing between the older two behind them.

After she'd left (she'd been smiling wider than Emerson had seen in a long time) Remington had put his arm across Emerson's shoulders and gently led him behind the trailer they were in. He'd pulled him in for a hug and gripped him tight.

Emerson's panic attack had meant that while he knew Remi was there, he didn't hear a word he was saying. When he could hear his voice, he realised what he was doing.

Remington, in the quietest voice he could, was singing gently in his ear: "My dreams become my nightmares."

Emerson's breathing started to even out. "My mind won't go to sleep." He looked up from his brother's shoulder when he recognised the song. "So I embrace the terror-"

"My soul is yours to keep." Remi rocked them gently a few times, long enough to make sure Emerson knew that he was staying, before pulling away.

"You good?"

Emerson nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

Remington hugged him one more time. "Let's get back to the fans, yeah?"

They walked back around to the trailer, slipping in next to Sebastian and acting as if nothing had happened.