BLUE EYED BOY (Tracob | DDLB)

>46<

TW-PANIC ATTACK

"Do you wanna talk about, honey?"

Troye shakes his head, his eyes trained on the black screen of the TV in front of him.

Jacob watches as he plays with his fingers, scratching the back of his hand every few seconds, the pacifier in his mouth being sucked hard.

Jacob could tell he was trying hard to regress further than he already was.

It's been a while since Jacob has seen Troye so anxious like this.

Especially in little space which secretly makes Jacob nervous that regressing wouldn't help all that much.

He doesn't know if there was something that could have caused it or if it was just one of those days, but he was doing everything he could to prevent a panic attack, and so far whatever he is doing was helping.

At least that's what it seemed like.

Jacob rubs the boy's back gently and kisses his forehead, "You're okay. You're tough, you're so tough, darling. Push the thoughts away, you can do it, I know you can. It's okay. Take my hand, don't hurt yourself, you don't deserve the marks on your precious skin."

Troye doesn't take his hand, but stops scratching his skin and instead continues to bend his finger despite none of them popping.

Suddenly, Troye begins to twitch, his head shaking back and forth.

Jacob slides off the couch and kneels down in front of the little.

He takes Troye's hands who squeezes them tightly, the action not fazing the older man.

"Hey, hey, hey, Tro baby, look at me," Josh shushes.

Troye squeezes his eyes shut, his head shaking as his breaths become heavier.

Tears stream down his face as he yanks his hands out of Jacob's gentle grasp.

He begins to "pop" his fingers repeatedly, making Jacob grab his hands again, holding them tighter so he couldn't pull away.

"Shh, darling, you're okay. You're-"

"Daddy," Troye whines through his binky.

Jacob's eyes widen slightly.

He's never witnessed Troye having an attack while he was little.

He swallows before clearing his throat, "Shh, honey, I know. Look at me, bub."

Troye opens his eyes and looks down at the elder, eyes full of unshed tears.

"Can you do me a favor? Huh?"

Troye squeezes Jacob's hands and nods slightly.

"Good. Good, honey. Okay, I need you to name five things for me. Five things around the room that you see."

Troye doesn't say anything for a moment as his eyes scan the room.

"C-curtains...TV...cup...G-George..."

"One more," Jacob says softly when Troye doesn't continue.

Troye sniffles as more salty liquid rolls down his cheeks.

He looks at his daddy with a hum, "You."

Jacob smiles gently, "Good job. Now...give me four things you can touch."

"You," Troye mumbles wiggling his fingers against Jacob's palms.

Pulling one hand away, he rubs the leather couch cushion, "The couch."

Placing his hand on his fluffy pajama pants, he doesn't say anything but instead pokes them.