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Callum didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the couch for.
All he knew was that he was tired.
So fucking tired.
The TV was on, but rather than watching it he was just looking at, no, looking through it, barely registering the action movie playing.
He wanted to watch it, he wanted to latch onto something to remind himself that he was real, that he wasn’t a spectator, a viewer of the fucked up TV show that was his life, but he just couldn’t .
He was too tired.
So he resigned himself to continue staring through the screen before him, while internally screaming for something, someone, to help him wake him up.
Suddenly, a gunshot sounded on the TV, and Callum felt a sliver of panic laced life dully shoot through his body, a reminder of what had caused his exhaustion.
He had just walked out of the train station, back from the city where he’d been Christmas shopping. He had gotten a few dolls for Lexi, a box of chocolates for Rainie, and some novelty socks for Stuart, among other things. It had been a great morning for Callum, and he’d been looking forward to wrapping presents in a quiet house before everyone got back from work and school.
He’d been happy, excited, ready to get home.
And then a car backfired, and suddenly Callum was back on the battlefield.
He had come to a dead stop in the middle of a crowd, annoying a couple of passers by, but he just couldn't move, couldn’t convince his body everything was fine, that he was safe . It was like he had run into Medusa and was now made of stone.
In the moment it had felt like an eternity, but in reality he started walking again after a couple of seconds. Somehow, however, moving was so much worse, because then he was suddenly filled with too much, far too much energy, making his hands shake, breathing quicken, and body become covered in sweat despite the chilly winter air.
All he knew was he had to get home now, now, now, because that’s where it was safe, that’s where Ben was.
He’d stumbled through the door into the kitchen, dropping his bags half haphazardly onto the floor, not even noticing when half of the presents fell out.
He’d begun pacing, tying desperately to exhaust the seemingly endless supply of anxious energy flooding through him because he knew what was going to happen if he didn’t stop it.
He’d had panic attacks before in the past and he hated them. He hated how they took away his control over himself, how fucking weak they made him feel, and how exhausted they made him afterwards.
He had become good at calming himself down as a result of that hatred but for some reason he just couldn’t do it that day. He was too panicked.
All because of a fucking car, not even an actual gun! He had thought, and through the panic, icy self hated and shame stabbed through his body, causing tears to prick at his eyes.
“Ben!” He had screamed, trying to alert his boyfriend to the fact he needed him before sobbing when he remembered he was gone and would be for another couple hours.
At the realisation Callum had sunk to the kitchen floor, and let the panic attack fully take form.
Afterwards, he had dragged himself to the living room and put on the TV, or at least that’s what Callum assumed, seeing as he could barely remember anything other than what was happening right that second.
That was another thing he hated about panic attacks, the fact that he didn’t even have the energy to remember afterwards.
He rubbed at his eyes lethargically, hoping that doing so would somehow wake him up. He let out a tiny frustrated groan when all it did was make his vision blurrier.
Soon, or maybe not so soon, Callum wasn’t sure, he heard a crash and a couple swears come from the kitchen, telling Callum that Ben and Phil had walked in. A tiny, more aware part of him yearned to get up and sink himself into Ben’s arms, Phil’s discomfort be damned, but he just couldn’t find the energy to move.
“Callum?” Came Ben’s voice as he walked through the hallway and into the living room “why’s your shopping all over the floor?”
Callum wanted to explain, he wanted to put on a brave face and say that he’d tripped coming in, dropped the bags, and forgot to pick them up once he sat on the couch, especially with Phil present. All he could do, however, was look up at Ben and hope he would understand just from Callum’s face.
Ben looked at him, confused, eyes flickering as he studied him. His expression gradually becoming more and more worried as he did, and his gaze eventually locked with Callum’s. Ben nodded in what Callum hoped was understanding.
He closed his eyes as Ben turned around and walked into the hallway, stopping his dad from coming into the living room.
“Dad, I think I left my phone at the arches, could you go grab it for me,” he asked Phil, in a hushed tone. Callum guessed he was trying to discretely tell his dad to fuck off.
Unfortunately, it seemed subtly was lost on Phil, because he gruffed out “the fuck are you on? Go get it yourself.”
“Dad,” he heard Ben hiss out, before some shuffling and what sounded like someone stepping slightly into the living room.
A beat of silence passed before Phil said “I’ll uh, leave you to it then.”
“Thank you” Ben half-whispered, followed by footsteps and the door closing.
Callum felt the couch dip as Ben sat down next to him. Again he was filled with the overwhelming urge to reach out to Ben, to ask to be held but he couldn’t. His brain felt too much like mush to tell his arms to move, to make his mouth to open and verbalise his wants, no, his needs.
“Why were you crying?” came Ben’s voice from beside him. He sounded tentative, unsure, as if he was afraid talking would set Callum off again.
Callum just shrugged, and the movement was so little he wasn’t sure if Ben even saw it.
Ben sighed deeply and shifted so that he was facing Callum. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me babe,” he whispered eventually.
For a while now it had mostly been Callum offering Ben emotional support, and Callum hadn’t minded, he’d actually liked feeling useful in that way. He was good at it, he knew he had a knack for talking people through hard emotions, for giving them a lifeline when they felt like they were drowning in sorrow. It’s why he became a counsellor after Bobby walked into the train tunnel.
Now, however, the tables had clearly turned, and it was incredibly jarring for Callum. It felt like before he came out all over again, with Ben over and over again throwing him lifelines, but Callum being unable to catch them because of all the barriers he felt were there.
It felt like a step back, because here they were again, Ben trying to help and Callum being unable to let him.
“Cal,” Ben whispered again. It sounded like a plea, and Callum guessed that it was.
At a loss of what else to do, Ben hesitantly reached over to Callum and stroked a hand through his hair. His hand was warm, relaxing, and so full of love.
A sob punched through Callum’s mouth.
It was like he was a car getting jumpstarted by the physical contact from Ben, and Callum only just realised how utterly empty he had been before because now he was suddenly so fucking full with so many different emotions; sadness, shame, fear, but most importantly the sense that he wasn’t alone just then. That Ben was there.
“Oh, darling, ” Ben said, pulling Callum towards him. He wrapped his arms tightly around Callum’s shoulders and Callum dug his face into Ben’s neck, hands coming up to desperately grasp at Ben’s shirt.
They sat like that for a while, Ben rubbing his shoulders comfortingly and whispering soothing nothings into his ear as he wept, getting out all his feelings of frustration at himself, the remnants of panic he was still experiencing, the overwhelming gratitude he had for Ben being there.
Eventually, Callum calmed down, sobs dying down into small hiccups and sniffles. He pulled back, wiping his face shakily with his hands, and breathed out a shuddering “thanks.”
Ben gave him a small smile and cupped Callum’s cheek gently “of course, you don’t need to thank me for that.”
Callum leaned into Ben’s hand and reached up to wipe the tear tracks that had formed on Ben’s own face, and tried to ignore the weight of guilt that settled briefly in his belly at the sight.
“I guess I should probably explain,” Callum said, voice cracking slightly from overuse.
Ben smiled sadly, and replied “yeah, if you could,” before taking Callum’s hand firmly in his.
So Callum did, he described his day before the car, how he went to three different toy stores before finding the perfect set of dolls for Lexi, how his train ticket didn’t work at the barrier, annoying everyone behind him, how he’d found the perfect present for Ben but that he wouldn’t tell Ben what it was since it was a surprise.
It was nice, Ben laughed at different parts, and Callum felt calmer than he had in hours.
Then he explained what had made him so upset, the terror he felt when the car backfired, how he’d been instantly transported back to a place where so many of his friends had almost, and had actually died, how panicked he had been and how he had barely made it home before he’d suffered the attack.
It was terrifying opening up about something like this, because what if Ben thought he was weak? That he couldn’t provide for Ben and Lexi? That, god forbid, he wasn’t the man Ben fell in love with anymore?
What if Ben left him?
But as Callum spoke Ben’s hand never stopped gripping his, and as quickly as his fears arose they were quickly quelled by Ben’s grasp. He squeezed back, and Ben grinned.
When he was done speaking it was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. They had talked about his time in the military before, but never in such depth, never because of a panic attack. It was nice in a way, even if the trigger hadn’t been.
“Thank you for telling me,” Ben told Callum once he was finished speaking. Callum dropped his head onto Ben’s shoulder, exhausted, but a much better way than before.
Before it had felt like he’d been under a weighted blanket, unable to get out and suffocating under its mass. Now he felt like he had just run a marathon because while he was bone-tired, he felt accomplished and satisfied. He even felt a little proud of himself.
“Thanks for listening,” he replied, and gave Ben’s hand another squeeze to show how much he meant it.
They sat quietly for a minute, Ben rubbing soothing circles into Callum’s back before he said “you know how much I love you, right?”
Callum felt his heart swell, and he was reminded of the first time Ben had said those words, almost a year ago back in his old flat. He’d felt exhilarated, and like they could get through anything together as long as they had that love. He felt no different now.
“Yeah, yeah I do, and I love you too,” Callum replied, before picking his head up to give Ben a firm kiss on the lips.
They broke apart, and Callum could have sworn Ben’s eyes were sparkling. His expression was one of pure love and Callum felt breathless at the sight.
“How about we go lie down for a bit before Lexi and Lo get back?” Ben suggested, rubbing Callum’s bottom lip slightly with his thumb “can finish that Star Trek movie we was watching.”
Callum grinned and said “yeah, sounds great,” before letting Ben pull him up and towards the stairs.
He was always going to have trauma from his military days, and the anxiety and panic he felt because of things others would find perfectly fine would always be there, but he knew now he didn’t have to face any of it alone. He knew now that Ben was there to listen and help him through it.
Yes, things weren’t perfect, but they were certainly far less than lonely.