Symptomatic

4

At three in the morning, he woke up shaking. He could hear his heart beat in his ears and his head felt light. Simon was fast asleep on the gaming chair, his even breathing filling the dark room, but Harry was terrified. He felt extremely hot, so he pulled his covers down on his body, only to feel the cool air hit his skin like a truck. He was drenched in sweat- so sweaty that there wasn't a dry patch of skin on his body. His throat felt strange, in that unsettling way it had the morning after the funeral. The more he thought about it, the worse it seemed to get.

And he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Harry sat up, the world spinning around him. He stood up, his knees trembling so violently that he tripped and fell onto the floor below. Why couldn't he control his body? His muscles were shaking and he had no strength left. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and settled in his stomach. He wanted to cry, or call out for someone to help him. He wanted someone to tell him what was wrong- why he felt so sick. Why he felt so out of control.

"Harry, what's going on?" The voice was soft, yet nervous. It was Simon. Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't want anyone to know how he felt - he didn't want to be forced into taking time off - but he needed someone to help him. He couldn't deal with it all. He let out a quiet sob, tears spilling out of his eyes as he shook. He felt cold now, but he was still sweating like crazy. He could feel the cool drops manoeuvre between the hairs on his head, and stream down his back like chills.

"S-Sick..." He chocked out, suddenly unable to control his gag reflex. It made his worlds weak and slurred. It interrupted him when he tried to speak. "I... think I'm... s-sick..."

"You think you're going to throw up?"

"Y-Yeah..."

Simon put his hands under Harry's arms and heaved him off the ground so that he was standing on his feet.

"Since when have you been so light?" It seemed as though he were thinking aloud without realising.

Harry grasped onto Simon's arm for balance as he tripped into the bathroom, bending over the toilet and retching. Simon looked extremely alarmed and slightly unsettled.

"What's wrong?" Vikk asked from the doorway, his dark hair sticking in all directions.

"Harry's... sick?" Simon said, lowly.

"I'll go get Josh for you."

Regardless of how many times Harry gagged, his body just wouldn't throw up. Even when he felt traces of acid crawl up his oesophagus, it would never come out. But he couldn't stop heaving. His body wouldn't let him stop.

"My... my throat." Harry said, a large bead of cold sweat dripping from his forehead and into the toilet bowl below him.

"What about your throat?" Simon looked as if he had no idea what to do.

"It w-won't s-stop,"

"Do you think it's a bug?"

"I... think I-I'm gonna die..."

"You're not gonna die, Harry."

After a few more seconds, Josh had stepped into the bathroom. Many of the others had drifted towards to commotion, as well, looking pale and mortified. Josh started to run his hand up and down Harry's back, comfortingly.

"Did you throw up?" He asked, calmly.

"No," Harry choked out, crying even harder.

"He said his throat is making him gag?" Simon said, overly confused. "Is it a bug?"

Josh forced Harry to lift his head and turn around slightly so that he was facing him. The elder then felt Harry's cheeks and forehead, and squeezed his hands, as if giving him some kind of physical examination.

"I know what this is." He said in almost a whisper. "Harry, okay, I need you to look at me. Look at my eyes."

Harry lifted his eyes so that they met Josh's, still gagging behind closed lips.

"You're having a panic attack. You're not sick."

"B-But-" Harry wetly mumbled, tears doing their best to blur his vision.

"No, no. When you have a panic attack, sometimes the adrenaline can make you feel nauseous. That's what this is, just adrenaline. You're not sick, okay?"

"Th-throat, and... dizzy,"

"Hey, you're not sick, you're not. It's just anxiety. I want you to breathe, okay? Deep breaths."

Harry couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. He couldn't feel air enter or exit his throat. His chest felt tight and his head felt heavy.

"Here, let's get out of the bathroom." Josh said, standing up and pulling Harry to his feet.

Harry felt so sick, but Josh was telling him he wasn't. He tried to stay in the bathroom, afraid he would throw up, but Josh only steered him out, having him lay back down in his bed.

"Let's watch a Youtube video, yeah?" Josh said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and swiftly opening the app.

"Josh..." Harry sobbed, looking at his friend with pleading eyes.

"How about a video from National Geographic? There's a new one on arctic foxes?"

"I'm sick, Josh..."

Josh started playing the video, and while it was difficult for him to concentrate at first, Harry eventually started to feel a little better. The panic and nausea started to grow more and more dull, until they only took up half of his brain.

"Isn't that one cute, Harry?" Josh asked, pointing to the screen as a sleek fox dived into the snow, keeping his tone light and gentle.

After a few more minutes, Harry felt only slightly nauseous and more drained. The dizziness had increased, but at least he wasn't gagging anymore.

"Drink some water." Simon said, unscrewing the lid of a water bottle and handing it to Harry. His hand shook as he took a few sips, his gag reflex dying as the cold liquid fell down his throat.

"Let's put on some music. How about you try to go to sleep?" Josh asked.

Harry didn't respond, only continuing to lay on the bed while Josh started a playlist of Harry's favourite artists.

"Close your eyes, Boggo."

Harry closed his eyes, feeling the music flow through his body. But his heart was speeding again. It was gentle then rough. It was calming and then scary.

He didn't like it.

Harry started trembling again, but he felt someone's hand stroke through his sweaty hair and he felt slightly more grounded.

"Don't leave... I'm scared." Harry choked out, fresh tears seeping out of his shut eyes.

"We're right here, buddy." Simon said.

It was comforting, being able to fall in and out of sleep for those first few minutes, panicked, only to see his friends there, looking at him, taking care of him. And when he finally did fall asleep, he didn't even realise it.

His dreams were fairly normal. When he dreamed, he almost expected to wake up feeling fine. He would dream about random absurdities- visiting a planet in another galaxy and meeting its inhabitants. Entering a land of pink and blue, his surroundings unbelievably soft and fluffy.

When Harry woke up the next morning, he was surprised to see that he had slept until seven o'clock.