Plenty of Wonders

So Big, So Small

Pairing(s): Platonic/Familial Moxiety

Warnings: Severe depression/anxiety and implied panic attack/panicking

Hi, this was a request from StarOfLightning , but it's not going to have all of the lyrics and I'm going to interpret the song a little differently. This is also set before Excepting/Accepting Anxiety.

ALSO, SOMEONE IS SALTY AND BEING A DRAMA QUEEN MORE THAN AN ANGST QUEEN™ AT THE MOMENT. AND THAT SOMEONE WROTE ANGST AS A RETALIATION EVEN THOUGH WE DECIDED TO GO TO DR PICANIDAMMIT CHICKITA-

SO HERE
SUFFER
S U F F E R
________________________
There was something that was worse than nothing.

Playing an eggshell dot-to-dot with the bumps on the ceiling with his eyes, Anxiety curled his his fingers to grip the blanket beneath him before flexing them again. Blank constellations teased him, promising something new; something hopeful; something beautiful. But it was something he would never receive.

No hope. The mere thought frightened him. What brought hope? Which one of the Sides had the ability to give Thomas hope? Patton? Or perhaps Roman? Maybe that was why he felt so hopeless.

Having a terrible relationship with Thomas' creativity, and having a weak relationship with his logic must have dunked him into a pool of pessimism, soaking him with despair and discouragement.

Every new breath lit a burning flame in his lungs; every blink filled his eyes with acidic tears that scorched his cheeks as they trickled down to his chin; every light breeze brushing against his skin left a sting of abandonment, reminding him that nobody was there.

What caused those light gusts of wind?

Maybe he wasn't as alone as he thought. The ghost of who he desired to be, or perhaps an apparition of who he was trying to be was breathing coldly across his skin, sometimes nipping to try and cure the numbness he now felt.

Panic wasn't always a frantic thing. Sometimes it was small. Fragile. And it reached out, looking desperately for comfort, for protection. However, if it chose you as its protector, you had no choice.

Anxiety gradually felt the hands of panic clutch to the chest, nails digging harshly into his neck, and wrapped his arms around himself. Rather than feeling any warmer, or even any colder, there was more of a... lack of temperature. His temperature had seemingly vanished, dissolving into the sensation of shudders shooting down his body.

Black spectacles guarding dark amber flashed through his mind. The one person who refused to give up. Refusing to give up his optimism; refusing to give up his unique view on the world; refusing to give up on any lost cause that headed in his direction.

To him, nothing was a lost cause. Differing greatly from those he had always been distant from.

Goodbye, goodbye
Now it's just me and my little guy

He wanted to help. Anxiety knew that, but there were a few very valid reasons as to why he couldn't.

One, he couldn't always get a word into conversation, and his opinions weren't always valued or acknowledged. Why? Simply because his optimism resulted in an overly trusting personality, and a kind-natured soul. This was seen as weak. Patton was seen as weak.