Work Text:
He knew he shouldn’t have come. Etho knew he shouldn’t have come.
It had been a bad day from the second he’d woken up. Blinking awake to crusty eyes and an aching throat, three hours after his alarm was supposed to go off, he’d already mentally written off the day because there was no way he would be able to do anything productive. But Etho still had to attend the Hermitcraft meeting in the afternoon.
It was difficult enough finding a day everyone was free each month- someone was always off server, or too busy, or too sleep-deprived to attend. For once, everyone was going to be there, so Etho knew X would finally get around to tackling some of the more important topics everyone needed to be aware of, specifically the upcoming move to season ten. He couldn’t just not attend.
The walk to the shopping district felt like a trek through molasses. His limbs were heavy, weighed down by exhaustion, and the low-grade fever simmering beneath his skin did nothing to help. Each step sent a dull throb up his legs, but he kept going, determined to make it to the meeting.
By the time he arrived, the other Hermits were already gathered, their voices a cacophony that echoed off the surrounding buildings. Etho’s head pounded with every burst of laughter and shout, each sound hitting him like a physical blow. He could feel the edges of his control fraying, but he forced himself to keep walking, head down, hoping no one would notice how tightly he was gripping the strap of his satchel.
As he slipped into his seat, the chatter around the table was in full swing. Ren had something of Bdubs’, holding it above his head and laughing as the shorter Hermit tried to jump for it. Doc was laughing at something Cleo had said. Etho tried to tune it out, but the noise seemed to press in from all sides, too loud and too close. His hands were clammy, his heart racing, and he couldn’t stop himself from wringing his hands under the table.
Their voices blended together into a senseless buzz, and Etho’s vision started to blur at the edges. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t think. All he could do was hold on, knuckles white as he gripped his seat, trying not to let the rising tide of panic show on his face.
“Alright, everyone, let’s get started,” Xisuma’s voice cut through the noise, pulling everyone’s attention to the head of the table.
The chatter died down, but the silence wasn’t much better. It felt oppressive, the weight of everyone’s attention shifting to Xisuma, but also to each other, and to him. Etho swallowed, the dryness in his throat making it difficult. His stomach twisted as Xisuma began to speak, going over the agenda for the meeting.
“MCC is next week,” Xisuma announced, looking around the table. “False and Cub will be competing this time, so if anyone wants to watch, let me know, and I’ll arrange server transport.”
There were murmurs of agreement, but Etho barely heard them. The room felt like it was closing in, the walls inching closer with every passing second. The mention of MCC only added to the pressure, a reminder of another event he wasn’t sure he had the energy to engage with.
Xisuma continued, “Now, about the move to Season Ten. I’ve found a potential world seed that looks like it can fulfill everyone’s requests.”
Etho’s mind drifted, the words becoming indistinct sounds as his focus slipped away. The meeting room was too bright, the lights too harsh, the air too warm and stuffy. His hands were trembling now, a slight shake he couldn’t stop, and he clenched them into fists in an attempt to regain control. It didn’t help. The sensory input was overwhelming—voices, light, the faint smell of something metallic in the air- it all piled on top of him until it was too much.
He only realized Xisuma had called for a break when he saw people standing up, stretching, and chatting. Panic surged in his chest, and with a jerk, Etho was on his feet, moving quickly toward the exit.
The fresh air outside hit him like a slap in the face, the relative quiet of the empty district a small relief. He didn’t stop, though. Etho kept walking, each step faster than the last, until he was practically running. The noise, the lights, the eyes- it was all too much. He couldn’t handle it, not today.
Etho didn’t stop until he was back in his base, the door slamming shut behind him. The silence here was different. It was heavy, almost suffocating, but it was better than the alternative. He stumbled into his bedroom, barely making it to the bed before collapsing onto it, burying his face in the pillow.
His breath came in shallow, shaky gasps, and he pressed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the phantom noise still echoing in his head. His skin felt like it was on fire, every sensation too sharp, too intense. The soft sheets against his skin, the weight of the blanket over him, even the dull thud of his own heartbeat- it was all too much.
The room spun around him, and Etho squeezed his eyes shut, willing the world to stop moving, stop hurting. He didn’t know how long he lay there, curled up on his side, but the pain didn’t fade. If anything, it grew worse, a throbbing, pulsing pressure behind his eyes and in his temples, making him feel like his head might split open at any moment.
The communicator in his pocket buzzed, and Etho flinched, curling up tighter as the sensation shot through him like a jolt of electricity. More pings followed, one after the other, but he couldn’t bring himself to look. He knew it was the other Hermits, wondering where he was, if he was okay, but he couldn’t face them. He couldn’t do anything but lie there, trapped in his own mind, his hands still clamped over his ears.
Hours passed, the sun dipping lower in the sky until the room was bathed in the orange light of the setting sun. Etho barely noticed, his awareness reduced to the pounding in his head and the suffocating weight of the blanket over him.
It wasn’t until he heard a knock at the door that he realized someone was there. Etho didn’t move, hoping whoever it was would just go away. But the knock came again, this time followed by a familiar voice.
“Etho? You in there?”
Impulse.
Etho’s chest tightened, but he still didn’t move. He couldn’t. He couldn’t face Impulse, not like this, not when he was barely holding it together.
The door creaked open, and Etho heard soft footsteps approaching. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to disappear into the bed, but the footsteps didn’t stop.
“Etho,” Impulse’s voice was quiet, gentle, like he knew something was wrong. “Hey, man, are you okay?”
Etho felt the bed dip as Impulse sat down beside him, the warmth of his presence a small comfort in the overwhelming chaos inside his head. He didn’t resist when Impulse gently pulled his hands away from his ears, and the sudden silence was almost unbearable.
Impulse didn’t say anything, just sat there with Etho, his presence steady and reassuring. But Etho’s mind was still a storm. The pressure in his head built up again, and without thinking, his hands moved to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he pulled, trying to find some way to relieve the tension.
“Hey, hey, Etho, stop,” Impulse’s voice was gentle but firm, his hand catching Etho’s wrist before he could hurt himself. “It’s okay. You don’t need to do that.”
Etho blinked, dazed, barely aware of what he was doing. His breathing hitched, the panic rising again, but Impulse didn’t let go. He held Etho’s wrist carefully, his thumb brushing over the skin in a soothing motion.
“Can I hug you?” Impulse asked softly, his tone full of concern.
Etho hesitated, the idea of touch both comforting and terrifying in his overwhelmed state. But the warmth in Impulse’s eyes, the steady calm he radiated, made Etho nod, just a small, almost imperceptible movement.
Without another word, Impulse shifted closer, wrapping his arms around Etho and pulling him into a tight hug. The pressure of the embrace was grounding, the weight of Impulse’s arms around him a steady anchor in the chaos of his mind. Etho’s breath hitched again, but this time it was different, less panicked, more like a release of the tension that had been building for hours.
Impulse didn’t speak, didn’t ask any questions. He just held Etho, one hand gently patting his back, the other resting on the back of his head, careful not to press too hard. The rhythmic motion was soothing, a constant reminder that he wasn’t alone.
Etho’s hands, which had been trembling moments ago, slowly stilled as the steady pressure of the hug began to take effect. The noise in his head didn’t disappear, but it quieted, the sharp edges dulling just enough for him to start catching his breath. The overload still lingered, a constant hum at the back of his mind, but with Impulse there, holding him, it felt more manageable.
They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the room growing dimmer as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Etho didn’t try to move, didn’t want to break the fragile calm that had settled over him. Impulse was patient, his presence unwavering, and Etho found himself leaning into the embrace more and more, letting the tension slowly seep out of his muscles.
As the last rays of sunlight filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room, Etho finally opened his eyes. The world seemed softer now, the edges less harsh, the colours muted in the fading light. He could see the sun setting out of his window, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, and for the first time that day, he felt something close to peace.
Impulse must have noticed the change in Etho’s breathing because he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Etho’s face. “Feeling a little better?”
Etho gave a small, weak smile, the exhaustion still heavy in his eyes, but the panic was gone. “Yeah… a little.”
“Good,” Impulse said, his voice filled with quiet relief. “How about we get you something to eat? I could whip up something simple.”
Etho hesitated, the thought of food both appealing and overwhelming, but the gentle way Impulse suggested it made him nod again. “Okay… that sounds good.”
Impulse’s smile was warm, reassuring. “Alright, let’s get you up.”
He helped Etho sit up slowly, making sure not to move too fast. Etho was still shaky but with Impulse’s steady support, he managed to stand.
As they made their way to the kitchen, Etho glanced back at the window, the last sliver of the sun disappearing below the horizon. He knew it wasn’t magically alright, but god, having a friend like Impulse made it so much easier.