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He didn’t know how long it had been, but Axis was getting sick of it. He didn’t even remember what had triggered it, whether it was something specific or not, or if it had been anything at all - but it had started with an unusual tic that he didn’t have very often, a finger snapping motion, and before he knew it the sensation was fizzing up his arms and across his chest, electricity zipping all through his nerves. He knew it wouldn’t last, that it would pass in an hour at most, but he felt as though he was watching himself.
It reminded him of nights at university, or on the worst days in the Royal Marines, before he had a name for the movements that possessed his body and jerked it around. He’d lie in bed and writhe uncontrollably, unable to stop or calm down, because the more he thought about it the more his body seemed to fight. His core muscles kept contracting, his shoulders shrugging, and he couldn’t speak for the little grunts and weak noises that kept forcing their way out of his mouth.
It was dark in the room - he hadn’t been able to turn on the light before collapsing onto the sofa. It must have been two in the morning. He hadn’t been able to sleep because of the zinging sensation shooting through his nerves, so he had come to find the one person he knew wouldn’t mind him taking up space, only to find they weren’t there, and he was alone as usual.
He was so stupid, he realised, staring at the wall opposite, his body still disobeying every attempt at control. His heart was racing, but he felt like he could pass out at any moment - it didn’t help that one of the tics that had decided to resurface was a breath holding tic, one of his least favourites. He was dizzy, panic clouding his brain, reminding him of all the other times he’d been useless, and every time he tried to fight it it only returned with vengeance.
In some ways, he deserved it. He knew that. He had done too many horrific things to people who didn’t deserve it. He’d believed things about them that made them inhuman to him, and though he knew he’d been wrong, the weight of the guilt of all that pain he’d caused sat right on his shoulders. He never asked for forgiveness, but he wanted it, more than anything, and it killed him to know he didn’t deserve a second of it. He deserved this, lying in a room alone, staring at the wall, his body exhausted. Somehow, his tics knew that, because if he deserved anything it was the horrible electricity zipping through his arm and making him hit himself in the head, compounding the headache that was forming more and more with every punch.
A little huff caught his attention. Flea padded into the room - he thought Inch had taken her with him, but maybe not - and walked up to him, her tail in a neutral position.
He opened his mouth to say hi, but nothing came out, just a grunting huff noise he hated. He was barely in his own body.
Flea didn’t seem to care. She hopped up onto the sofa beside him and carefully crawled up so she could lie down on his chest, resting her head down beside his. At first, Axis felt a wave of panic - she lay on his right hand side, the same hand he could feel the compulsion to hit himself again in. He couldn’t do that to her, even if she was used to his bullshit by now.
It took a herculean effort, but he diverted all his tattered willpower into his arm. His hand hovered for a second, inching closer to his head, which was already aching in anticipation, but finally he managed to bring his fist down somewhere else instead. Unfortunately, that was Flea’s jacket.
Instantly, he tried to apologise, but nothing came out, and Flea barely even flinched, just breathing softly against his head. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to say, wanted to explain he wasn’t trying to throw her off, wasn’t trying to rip her jacket off, he wasn’t trying to hurt her, but how could he? Never mind the fact she was a dog, he could barely keep himself from crying long enough to speak.
The weight was comforting, though. She breathed steadily, ignoring all his twitches and strange movements, ignoring every time he hit her or himself, letting him cry.
It was a while before the painful electric sensations died down.
Axis was exhausted. His whole body was out of energy, nothing left in him to move or tell Flea it was okay. Even though little twitches kept pulsing through his core, he had stopped hitting himself, and he knew that even if he did have the energy to execute the more complex tics he wouldn’t do them, because it was finally fucking over. He could have slept for a year.
The light flicked on and he flinched, blinking through watery eyes and a pounding headache. Flea perked up, raising her head to look over at Inch, who stood in the door frame. She gave a quiet little woof noise of greeting, but didn’t move. Axis was grateful.
“Woah, are you okay?”
It was almost funny - after all that, he got hit with a dumb sounding ‘woah’. Axis didn’t know how to answer that. He just blinked tiredly at Inch, tear tracks making his skin feel tight. ‘Sorry, I keep hitting your dog’? Didn’t seem right.
Inch came over and crouched by the sofa, scratching the fur behind Flea’s ears. Axis could feel her tail thumping against his leg - strange, he supposed, that that movement was probably also uncontrollable.
“Tic attack?” Inch asked quietly. “Panic?”
Axis nodded minutely. Yes to both. His fingers kept tightening on Flea’s jacket and yanking, though now it was more a little twitch than anything. He tried to speak, swallowing dryly, his throat feeling as though he’d torn it to shreds with all the grunt noises he couldn’t help making.
What could he say?
Looking at Inch, at those concerned, dark eyes, kind of like Flea’s, he could think of a million things he could have said. Once upon a time he would have viewed the man with suspicion out of sheer fear. He’d been so scared of other people that he’d projected it onto them, and viewed them as subhuman because of what? The way they looked? He deserved every bit of pain that came his way.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice coming out ragged. Sorry for the way I could have treated you if we’d met earlier.
Inch frowned, opening his mouth to say something but thinking better of it, instead reaching into his pocket and taking out a tissue. He dabbed it under Axis’ eyes, taking his time, pausing when Axis had to jerk his aching head backwards and returning once the tic left.
Eventually, he patted Flea on the head. “Go to bed, girl,” he said softly.
He didn’t even react when Axis let out a scratchy ‘heel, good girl’ in a crude imitation of his voice, immediately cringing back into the sofa pillows. Flea ignored him too, thankfully, standing up and hopping off the sofa.
Axis hadn’t realised how hard it had been to breathe, because now the weight was off the cool air flushed over him and rushed into his lungs - unfortunately, that meant a fresh wave of panic rushed in with it, and he closed his eyes tight, trying to control it, breathing in slowly and out, trembling every time.
Inch pushed his hips backwards so he was lying more against the back of the sofa, and sat down on the little space he’d made. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he said quietly, tugging Axis’ shirt down where it had ridden up a little.
That was a lie. Axis swallowed the rising tide of tears that threatened to spill over. He barely even registered that he’d brought his fist down on Inch’s leg, because he didn’t react at all. In all likelihood it was a weak punch anyway, given that Axis wasn’t sure he had any energy at all any more.
Inch sighed, taking the offending hand in both of his. “Anything I can get you?” he asked softly.
Axis desperately needed water, but the idea of Inch leaving for a second was suddenly terrifying. “Just- stay a second,” he said. His voice sounded hoarse. “Sorry. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to-”
“Sorry. Sorry,” Axis repeated, unsure where his actual need to apologise stopped and the tic started. “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”
Inch bit his lip, looking like he was holding back a smile. “Water? Painkillers?”
Axis nodded, despite himself. “Sorry. Sorry.”
Inch finally smiled. He stood up and held up two fingers - two seconds - and left the room.
There was a clock on the wall, Axis could see now - twenty past three. He apologised to the room. Had it really been that long? What the fuck was Inch doing, coming back at three in the morning?
Inch appeared again with a little sheet of painkillers and a glass of water - immediately, Axis let out a pained bark of a laugh. Inch stared at him for a moment, then at the glass in his hand, and seemed to put two and two together. Unless he wanted to spend the rest of the morning clearing up broken glass, that was a bad idea. “Oh. Uh. One more sec.”
A smile finally tugged at Axis’ mouth as he left again.
He came back with the bottle Axis used, an unspillable one, filled with water, and sat down beside him again. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m tired.”
Axis just raised his eyebrows in an ‘I didn’t say anything’ way, though Inch still hit him gently on the arm. “Do I have to bottle feed the baby?”
Axis breathed in as though to gather strength, though it was still shaky, and raised his tired arm to take the bottle. He didn’t have the energy to argue. “Shut your mouth,” he mumbled, both of them ignoring the way his hand jerked as though to shake the water out and onto the floor.
Inch was grinning despite Axis’ insults. “I was joking, by the way, with the glass,” he said, twisting his body so he could get a leg up onto the sofa and lean against the back of it, trapping Axis tightly in the pillows. “I was trying to make you laugh. It worked.”
Axis could have cried, but instead he just swallowed painfully and blinked the tears away. “Thanks,” he said quietly, though a little huff left his mouth too - he hated that tic because it always made him sound sarcastic, even when he meant something with all of his heart. “Thank you.”
“You should thank Flea,” Inch said, clearly proud of his girl. He nodded towards the door. “She says you need to get some sleep.”
“Thanks doctor Flea,” Axis whispered, giving up on trying to speak properly. He knew Flea would hear him anyway. She was a good dog.