chris & matt sturniolo imagines

panic attack

TW: this imagine does talk about panic attacks and an event with gunshots that could trigger someone. as always, be cautious and do not read if you feel like this will make you uncomfortable/be a trigger for you.
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Chris helps you through a panic attack when a loud noise triggers an old event.
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Trigger, a stimulus that elicits a reaction.

It can be anything from a smell, to a day of the year, to loud arguments. They stem from trauma and sometimes they never go away, or sometimes you get lucky enough to heal. I was still in the beginning stages of healing and I had one hell of a road ahead of me.

The guys knew to be careful with loud, sudden noises around me, and they were also really good at making sure I was okay when the environment got noisy. But, you can't always predict when a glass baking dish is going to fall and shatter on the kitchen floor.

The day started as usual, me being the last one awake because my body has no idea what a sleep schedule is. I went back and forth through Chris' room brushing my teeth, doing my makeup, and getting dressed. After I felt like I was ready for the day, I met the three of them upstairs.

Unfortunately, with my luck, Nick wanted brownies for breakfast and sat the cooking pan a bit too close to the edge of the counter.

"Nick," Matt warned from the living room, "Don't let that—"

Crash

Shatter

Gunshot

In a split second my mind could no longer tell the difference between the past and the presence. Suddenly, I was sixteen again in the middle of my living room on the phone with 9-1-1 during a shooting at my neighbors. The fear crept through my veins and filled my entire body as I fell to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest and covering my ears.

"Y/n, you're doing great, hun. Just listen to my voice. The police are on their way." The dispatcher said through the phone, "Can you still hear me?"

"Y/n?"

"Y/n?"

"I am so sorry—"

"Back up, Nick." Chris dropped to his knees next to me and placed a hand on my back, the sudden touch making me jolt away from him.

"Don't!" I screamed, "Don't touch me!" My chest heaved for air, but it felt like I was breathing through a straw. My hands trembled and tears poured from my eyes like a waterfall.

The room fell silent and I'm sure they were staring at one another wondering what the fuck to do, but Chris has seen this before, so it wasn't exactly new to him.

I tried reminding myself of my surroundings, but it wasn't working. Each time I'd look around all I could picture was my old house in my hometown. All I could feel was how terrified I was as I screamed at the dispatcher to call my parents. All I knew in this moment was fear.

"Y/n." Chris said softer, "Hold my hand." He laid onto the wooden floor next to me on his side to face me, his hand out for me to take, "You're at home in Los Angeles."

"I—I can't." I pulled my hands up and covered my eyes again. At this point I was crying so hard I was choking on my own tears, "I—I'm not—I can't!"

"Yes you can. Look at me." Chris gently wiggled his fingers between my hands and pulled them down, smiling at me when I granted him eye contact, "Hey, see? You can."

"Does she need anything?" Matt asked from above us.

"Cold washcloth." Chris said without looking away from me, "And a heavy blanket. Get the one on my bed, it's black."

"I'll grab the washcloth." Nick said. As soon as they started walking around, the noise made me jump again.

"Guys. Slow." Chris scolded them. "Keep looking at me, okay?" His fingers laced with mine and he rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand.

"Okay." I let out a deep breath and looked at him through my cloudy, tear filled vision. My eyes stared at his chest to mimic the way he was breathing as I counted backwards in my head, "Okay—I-I'm okay."

"Here's the blanket." Matt handed the blanket off to Chris and he sat up slowly. He knew the best way to make me feel secure was when I wrapped myself in a weighted blanket like a burrito and just sat still.

"Here's this." Nick handed Chris the cold washcloth and he gently rested it on my forehead. It helped the headache from crying go away faster.

"C'mere." I brought myself slowly off the floor, still being weary of my surroundings, and let him wrap the blanket around me. I tightened it as much as I could with my hands and held it there. He leaned against the wall and I scooted my back against his chest.

"Did you step on any glass, Y/n?" Nick asked with a broom in his hand, ready to clean his mess. Using my voice seemed exhausting, so I shook my head no.

"Can you guys just wait for a minute? Everyone just sit and don't move for, like, at least five solid minutes." Chris said sternly to his brothers. I'm sure he didn't mean to sound harsh, but he knew how serious these panic attacks were and how bad they could get. Thankfully, this seemed to be a smaller one and I was able to realize where I was fairly quickly. There's been times in the past where Chris has repeated over and over that I was safe for an hour, but my mind still couldn't connect the dots.

Matt and Nick immediately sat down at the kitchen table and I continued staring at the ceiling, letting Chris slowly rock us side to side as his hand rubbed my arm, the washcloth resting on my head.

"Remember to breath." He reminded.

"I'm trying." I retorted.

"I know." He said softly.

No one moved for fifteen minutes, all of us sitting still until my breathing returned to normal and my tears dried to my cheeks, "I'm sorry, guys." I couldn't help but feel bad for starting their morning off like this.

"It's not your fault." Matt said, "At least now we know what to do if it happens and Chris isn't around."

"Wrap me like a burrito and tell me where I am a million times." I tried making light of the situation with a joke and thankfully they matched my humor and laughed.

"I do feel bad, though," Nick got back up to continue cleaning the glass, "I didn't even realize it was gonna fall."

"It's okay." I replied. Chris helped me off the floor and I made my way to the couch, feeling exhausted from the event, "I might nap."

"You can." Chris patted his chest and sunk further into the couch, "I gotta go through my emails and stuff anyway, so I'll be sitting here for at least an hour."

"You're the best." I fell into his chest and closed my eyes, "Thank you for helping me."

"Always," He stroked my hair and shifted around until he was comfortable, "We can restart the day when you wake up."

"This time without the panic attack." I chuckled. I felt his nose exhale a small laugh and knew I had eased the tension a bit.

Maybe one day I'll be healed. I'll be able to hear loud noises and not think anything of it. But right now I was healing, and that process is not linear.

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