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Alex had his first panic attack when he was thirteen. He was in the Institute while they were being tutored and it left almost as fast as it came, lasting five minutes at best. He'd been taking notes when all of a sudden his hand started shaking, his heart trying to beat out of his chest.
Reggie was sitting right beside him and quickly noticed that Alex had stopped writing. He'd asked what was wrong, and Alex, with an admirable steady voice he had no idea where it'd come from in his current state, had answered that his hand was shaking. Reggie had of course happily taken over his notebook and copied the rest of the notes himself and Alex's hands and heartrate had gone back to normal just like it'd never happened.
He had no idea what had happened. The only thing he remembered was a sense of dread. For a fleeting second he was certain we was dying.
Julian was the one to recognize it for what it was the next time it happened, coming with much more force than the first one. He was the one to have said words like anxiety and panic attacks and all Alex could think about now was that a thirteen year old should not be having to deal with all that shit. Well, he still thought the same at seventeen, but damn, thirteen was young.
Ty had been pretty forthcoming with his experiences. Sure, they didn't have the same triggers, they weren't going through the same things, but on some level they could understand each other and Alex was grateful to have someone who understood what this was.
Recognizing it for what it was had helped. It hadn't made it better, but at least Alex knew he wasn't losing his mind. Slowly he started developing coping skills, little things that helped him get himself back on track and eventually calm down. He couldn't always depend on having someone around, sometimes he just had to rely on himself. As much as he could. And then after a while there was a little part of him that reminded him every time he wasn't doing well that he was okay, he was just wired a little tight and this would come to pass in a few minutes.
The drums had definitely helped. He'd figured out early on that he needed his hands to be doing something, and maybe his brain instictively knew that on some level because he had gone for the kindjals from the beginning of their training, he couldn't just keep his body still. Drumming gave him an outlet, a way to get the tension out when he was in the Institute while sitting down and just moving his hands around wildly. It was good.
After coming out to the guys, he'd felt better, like he'd finally opened himself up one hundred percent and the feelings of uncertainty when it came to his friends had vanished. That still left his parents though and he was well aware of their beliefs.
He really hadn't been surprised when it didn't go well, but he was still not ready for it. He knew they wouldn't like it, he knew they wouldn't accept it, but he'd hoped. He was their son, they were supposed to love and accept him, weren't they?
He'd gone to the Institute that night after realizing that he felt suffocated in his own house. His parents hadn't stopped him.
He was unofficially staying there. His things were there, his weapons were there, his drums were there and most importantly he was there seven days a week. So yes, he was living in the Institute.
He'd talked with his parents for the first time a week later. They hadn't said anything about what had happened, almost as if they'd forgotten about it. Alex knew they hadn't, but they were going to pretend and he could just keep saying it, but they were still going to be talking about that great Cartwright girl, you should meet her. Their voices were colder than what he'd been used to. They hadn't asked him to come back home.
And everything was just so easy in the Institute. These people had been his family for a while now and they'd welcomed him with open arms. And mostly it was great, it was warm, it was familiar, it was safe and Alex relished in places and people he considered safe. But sometimes it became too much. Because if Shadowhunters could be so accepting, if these people who had no blood relation with him and no obligation to treat him as family just went ahead and acted like it without even thinking about it... Then why couldn't his parents be like that too?
The first month had been weird. By the second he was used to everything, it wasn't like he didn't spend most of his time in the Institute anyway. After that, it was just life. He hadn't mended his relationship with his parents, but he'd said all he had to say. The ball was on their court if they wanted to do something about it. For now, he was in the Institute, he was home, with all the people who cared about him. He was doing good.
Which was why days like this still caught him off guard.
Alex's eyes had snapped open two minutes before the alarm was supposed to go off.
He clumsily threw the covers away with shaky hands and scrambled to get up, rushing to open the window. It was supposed to help.
It didn’t. Not with it being 7 am and the sun shining bright and not with it being the middle of August in Los Angeles of all places. There was no cold air coming in and hitting him on the face. Things weren’t looking up for him.
His knees felt weak and his whole body was becoming numb, so he just sat down on the floor, leaning on his bed, willing himself to not get anymore overwhelmed by his surroundings.
But it didn’t make any sense, did it? He'd been sleeping, peacefully (!), and then suddenly his whole body was in overdrive?
He’d curled in on himself, his arms holding his legs close to his chest while he tried to breathe. It’d seemed that as he'd grown older and had been trying to deal with his anxiety efficiently, his panic attacks had been evolving as well. Sometimes they were mild and sometimes they shut off any logical part of his brain convincing him that he was absolutely dying. And that only worked to make the spiral worse.
He didn’t know if it’d been seconds or minutes, but he soon realized he wasn’t getting out of this by himself. His whole body was shaking, he couldn’t get his damn breathing to even out and his heart was hammering in his chest like he was surrounded by demons.
And what happens if he loses it while out on the field? No, no, no, don’t go there... Shit.
Because he can’t protect anyone like this and that means he’s leaving Luke, Reggie and Carrie alone and if they get hurt that’s on him because he’s supposed to be there to protect them, but he can’t when at any given time he can break down and not get up.
And if they die-
He gasped. He needed to breathe.
No, don’t go there.
But that was always a possibility wasn’t it? Because Bobby had died out in the field.
Definitely don’t go there.
His body didn’t seem to get the memo though as he felt his heart beating even quicker - was that even possible?
"It’s 7:06 and you didn’t come complaining about how I didn’t put an alarm, which you would have been one hundred percent right about but I would have still fought you on it anyway. Are you-" The door had bursted open and Luke's voice reached Alex before he’d even walked inside, but he cut himself off when he realized what was happening. "Shit," he heard next - and oh yes, Alex shared the sentiment - and Luke was suddenly kneeling a few feet away from him.
"Alex?" he said, his voice soft, but firm. Bless his heart for trying, but Alex felt like he was going to pass out if his heartbeat didn't slow down and if he couldn't take a proper breath.
He had to calm down, he had to stop panicking.
Hey, what about his parents?
Fuck.
Yes, sure, he was lucky to have a place to go and people who cared about him as much as everyone in the Institute did, but he missed his house. He even missed his parents. Or whatever relationship they used to have before everything went to hell. God, had he ruined everything? Should he have just said nothing? He'd spent so many years keeping his sexuality a secret maybe he should have just carried on like that and his parents wouldn't have basically disowned him and barely even look at him and just-
A sob ripped through him along with everything else and black spots filled his vision.
"He's gonna pass out," he heard a voice saying urgently, obviously not directed at him.
"Wait, I have an idea," a second voice said. Reggie? When did Reggie get there?
He felt something burn on his arm and suddenly all the pressure and tightness he felt in his chest eased up and he could breathe.
The sudden change startled him, but it was definitely welcomed and it worked to take off some of the edge. He didn't feel okay, far from it, but he could breathe and that was doing something to slowly fix his heartrate.
A few seconds went by and he realized he felt cold. Colder than a few minues ago at least. He let his left hand fall to the side without saying anything and Luke was next to him in an instant, wrapping his arm around him and pulling him against him.
Alex hadn't been the only one who'd been learning how to deal with his anxiety all these years. The guys - and now Carrie - knew not to get near him, not to touch him until he at least didn't feel like he was suffocating. He always let them know, he needed to let them know, he needed someone to lean on. Both figuratively and literally.
"It's okay, you're okay," he heard Luke whispering.
Alex closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. It was easy, which was still kind of weird, so he opened his eyes and turned his arm around to look at the rune Reggie had drawn. The burn had been familiar, but he was in no state to make sense of what it'd been. Looking at it now, he was still not sure which rune it was, maybe he was still too worked up to think straight.
"Breathing Under Duress," Reggie said from where he'd sat with his legs crossed right in front of him. "I don't think we've ever really used it, but you know it, it's definitely in the Gray Book."
"Reg, I think you're the only one who's managed to memorize all of them along with Clary's new ones," Luke said using the same soft voice Alex was grateful for.
He reached for Reggie's hand in front of him without moving away from Luke, intertwining their finger together. "You're a genius," he said breathlessly. He really felt like he'd run a marathon.
Reggie was about to say something, but Alex squeezed his hand in response. "Don't argue with me, I'm fragile," he said giving him a small smile. Reggie smiled back.
"What happened?" Luke asked.
"Nothing..." Alex said with a sigh.
"Alex..."
"No, Luke, that's just it. Nothing happened. I was sleeping and then woke up panicking, there wasn't a reason. Sometimes this just... happens," he said.
"That's okay," Reggie said.
"But it's not." Alex sighed. "What happens when we're not in the Institute? What if we're out in the field fighting? I'm essentially leaving you alone."
"That has never happened," Luke said.
"But what if it does?"
"And what if I fall down the stairs and break my arm?" Luke said out of the blue.
"What?" Alex asked confused without raising his head to look up at Luke.
"It might happen," Luke said with a shrug. "I won't be able to fight, or play music and you know I'm gonna whine about it for a while. My point is, a whole bunch of shit can happen but we can't possibly be prepared for all of it. I don't think we're even prepared for half the things we know are happening, but we've been doing our best up to now, haven't we?"
"You make us sound like a mess," Alex said.
"A semi organized mess," Luke offered and Alex lips quirked up hearing the smile in his voice.
"Exactly," Reggie added, "and I mean, we're here and we're together, isn't that what counts?"
"Yes, of course, but ever since I screwed things up with my parents-"
"Your parents screwed things up with you," Luke interjected, "you didn't do anything wrong."
Alex sighed. It was easy for every little insecurity in his head to go wild in times like this. "There are just too many things going on..."
"Well, you don't have to take care of all of them right now," Reggie said. "I mean, we have time. One step at a time."
And sure, Alex subconsciously knew that, but there was something about hearing it and repeating it to himself.
Stop, take a breath, clear your head. One step at a time.
"Actually we should let Diana know that we'll be late..." Reggie said and started to get up, but Alex's grip on his hand didn't ease and he looked at him his eyes frantic again. Not to overstate things but he felt like if either of them left he would freak out again. "Or not," Reggie rushed to say, sitting back down, "she's smart, she'll figure it out."
Luke's hand somehow found its way to Alex's hair from his side and started going through it. Alex felt some of the tension melting away as he slumped further into Luke - not that he wasn't already practically lying on him. His eyelids felt heavy, the sudden spike and drop in adrenaline making him tired even if he'd woken up only a few minutes ago. Then again it was 7 am, if they didn't have things to do he would still be sleeping.
They had things to do...
However, Alex couldn't find it in himself to care at that point, he had only just started feeling calm and he needed a minute or two.
Luke and Reggie had started talking about something, Alex hadn't tuned in, he wasn't even really supposed to. They were doing it for him, white noise and whatnot. He let himself relax against Luke and closed his eyes.
So, even though days like this caught him off guard, even though he sometimes felt like he couldn't do this alone, he knew he didn't have to. The guys had never left him alone to deal with anything.
He took a deep breath as he slowly felt himself becoming more and more distant. He was okay, he was better, the haze in his mind having cleared for now.
He was okay, just... One step at a time.