Beginning of The End

XI

India won the next match, finishing the series 3-0, a one-sided victory against England that too right at their heart.

The entire country was ecstatic, both at Virat's return and at the victorious achievement. He had proven that he was back, and back for good.

Despite the undisputed victory, Virat couldn't sleep that night.

He jolted awake in the middle of the night, sweating and panting heavily as he recalled the familiar nightmare. It had been too cold but he was sweating profusely. There had been a crowd of millions around him but he was standing alone. He didn't want to remember the nightmare but it was carved into his mind.

He had to bite back a groan at the numbing sensation that spread across his limbs and pushed himself up. He hated how tremendous of an effort he needed to put into such simple activities. With trembling hands he tried to make his regular drink, focusing on pouring the perfect amount of water but the glass slipped from his grasp resulting in a mess on the floor.

"Fuck." He cursed under his breath, glaring at the amber liquid spilled on the floor and his eyes instantly moved towards the bed where Anushka was still sleeping soundly. Once he was sure he hadn't disturbed either of his girls' sleep he quietly slipped out of the room.

Virat had to remind himself to breathe inside the closed space constantly before he entered the lift.

But no matter how much he tried his breathing got heavier, beads of sweat began trickling down his neck and he kept his eyes stuck to the indicator on the top of the lift. As soon as the doors opened he dashed outside to the terrace, trying to gulp as much air as possible.

Ever since his first panic attack at the RCB camp in front of Dev, the boy had refused to let him deal with it alone and Virat cursed himself when he realized he didn't have his phone with him.

All he could hear was the curses ringing against his eardrums and he felt his knees give out beneath him, making him slump against the wall.

He formed a tight fist and knocked it against his forehead, trying to get rid of the voices. But they just grew louder and louder. And with each rise in the volume, the frequency of his fist also increased.

There was a pounding in his head now, a war between the voices and his fist. Amidst the chaos in his mind, Virat didn't register the presence of another person on the terrace.

Rahul, who had been on the terrace to escape Mayank's endless teasing did not expect to see Virat collapse on the ground like that. He had his eyes clenched shut as he banged his fist on his forehead repeatedly, his legs trembling as he pulled them to his chest.

Quickly overcoming his initial shock Rahul rushed to his side. "Virat." He called out tentatively but Virat did not even seem to register his voice. He crouched on the ground next to him and placed his hand on his knee gently.

"Virat, look at me." He said in a louder voice this time, shaking his leg but he still got no response from the man. Growing worried and frustrated he tried to pull his fist away from his forehead but to no avail.

Virat seemed to be in a daze, for him it almost seemed like Rahul did not exist at the moment. Feeling his helplessness grow as the seconds passed by, he continued to call Virat's name trying to make him stop and look at him. But when Virat did not acknowledge anything at all Rahul had no option but to shout his name and smack him on his head sharply.

In an instance, Virat jerked his fist away from his forehead and his eyes opened, Rahul flinched at the fire in his eyes and frowned when Virat panted heavily.