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blackwolfstabs · 6 months

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30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 14

JUST BREATHE

Ever since a week ago, when the 2023 Ghostface murders ended, Tara's been having nightmares, but tonight she's hit with twice the panic.

Warning!! contains panic, anxiety, and asthma attacks - mentions PTSD - (just to be safe)

Based on true events experienced by the author... (Tara's POV)

It had been just over a week since Sam killed Quinn and Wayne, Tara killed Ethan, and Mindy and Chad had been hung up in the hospital recovering from stab wounds. The sisters’ apartment hadn’t been cleared for them to return yet, after the attack that had happened there, so Tara had agreed to share Chad’s apartment with him and Mindy, while Sam stayed with Danny. The twins had decided to stay in the same apartment to watch over each other, plus they were still on-edge about everything, so being alone wasn’t ideal.

But Tara hated nighttime. That’s when everything changed.

For the first 2 days, sleep came easy for her, given she was exhausted from the 3-day streak of being alert and on-the-run. However, the 3rd night onward brought on the most vivid nightmares she had ever experienced. They were all about what had happened but threw her 2022 trauma in with it. Sometimes she was helpless in a wheelchair. Sometimes she was back at her home in Woodsboro. Sometimes she watched everyone she loved die. Sometimes it was her that died. Her body was so worn out that her mind wasn’t able to distinguish that the nightmare was a nightmare and that she was only dreaming, which led her waking up in a panic, sweating, and sucking the life out of her inhaler.

It had gotten so bad that by the time 5:00 PM came around, she’d already start to get anxious, knowing what was waiting for her in the dead of night. When the sun went down and the lights went out, when there was no activity to keep her distracted and no one awake to talk her out of it, Tara was in a constant tailspin on what was to come when she fell asleep. Sure, she, Chad, Mindy, and Sam had made it clear that communication between them was open, so no matter what time of day or night it was, they would be there for each other, if needed. But Tara hated to be an inconvenience. She already felt that she was the weakest because of her size and asthma, and that she was the most emotionally unstable because of her being the youngest, even if it was only by a difference in months between the Meeks-Martin twins.

But trauma had its ways of getting even, if not outdoing anything she could attempt to keep inside. And she was about to learn that the hard way.

—

2:34 AM

Tara awoke with a jump, heart pounding and entire body shaking uncontrollably. The only thing she could register was that it was dark and she was much more aware of the physical feelings that came from the night terror she had just been ripped from. Heat flooded through her, followed by a chill. The back of her neck felt waxy as her hair clung to it. Her mouth was dry, though she still managed to swallow through her gasping.

And then she noticed something new… something that hadn’t happened before.

There was a pain in her chest. A violent one. It felt like there was a brick on top of it and a fist squeezing it on the inside. The more she gasped to catch her breath, the more she realized she couldn’t. She couldn’t get enough air, and that just drove her panicking to its top tier. Afraid to move too much, she rolled her head to the left and grabbed her inhaler off the bedside table.

She pushed her elbows down into the mattress to push herself up, wincing at the healing wound on the left side of her upper back. Now leaning against the headboard, she attempted to deliver a dose of medication to her airways. She took in one, quicker than she should’ve, but desperate for relief. When she breathed out, she was starting to wheeze, and the pain in her chest sharpened, which made her cry out and clutch it with her other hand.

She took to her inhaler again. She knew she shouldn’t, but she wasn’t thinking clearly. Once again, the pain teased her. A feeble whimper came through her wheezing as she forced herself to lie back down, noticing it wasn’t as bad when she did so. She tried to rub the area that felt the tightest, while the other hand squeezed her inhaler, praying that she would settle down.

“It was just a dream…” she tried to assure herself, breathlessly, on her deep exhales. “It was… just a dream…” Tears flooded into her eyes, when she stared at the ceiling. “You’re okay…” But she couldn’t shake the feeling. She still couldn’t breathe well, and her chest couldn’t break free of the suffocating discomfort.

What if this was more than a nocturnal asthma attack? What if something else was wrong? What if she passed out from the lack of proper oxygen? What if she was having a heart attack? What if she went to get help and they called 911? What if they took her to the hospital? What if she had to stay in the hospital? What if she was left alone again?

A thousand thoughts spiraled in Tara’s head, making everything worse. She was beginning to hyperventilate, her airways still feeling inflamed and constricted, even though she had medicated herself. She couldn’t go to the hospital. That would just make it worse. She’d never step foot in another hospital room, with a gown and nasal cannula, as long as she should live. There was too much trauma carried in those hollow walls and too much blood spilt on those sterile floors to relive it all again.

But she knew she was working herself up into a violent asthma attack that she wasn’t sure she could stop, and she knew she didn’t want to be alone. There was only one person she wanted. One person she knew would make her feel safe and hold her until it passed. It was Hell, these asthma attacks, but that one person made her believe there was an end to it that only they could encourage.

She grabbed her phone and opened her text messages.

2:41 AM: ‘Sam are you awake?’

She stared at the bottom of the screen, hoping and praying to see three blinking dots show up to know that her sister was awake and would be there. However, a minute went by. And then another minute. Her eyes started to burn, and she bit her lip, trying not to cry as she released a desperate whine.

2:43 AM: ‘I need you’

She was still trembling, having kicked down her blankets from her body not being able to decide if she was hot or cold. It wasn’t the feverish kind of shaking though. She was in the middle of what happened when an asthma attack and panic attack collided to wreak havoc on their host. And because Sam wasn’t responding, she went to her second-best bet, which was her only back up. She made a group chat with Chad and Mindy.

2:44 AM: ‘are either of you awake?’

2:44 AM: ‘Chad idk if u still have ur phone on’

She forced down a swallow, pinching the middle of her bra to hold it away from her chest, hoping that might bring a little relief. But no. So, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Her fingers curled into the sheets beneath as she tried to keep her back straight to prevent excess weight settling on her chest. The pressure seemed deep, swirling like a thick smog that built a wall to prevent fresh air from getting in. She anxiously waited for a reply from someone—preferably Sam—silently begging for her to wake up if she truly wasn’t already awake. “Mmm…” she groaned as she tried to rub her chest again. “Please, Sammy…”

She sent a 3rd text.

2:47 AM: ‘Please’

The girl shut her eyes, unable to distract herself from the feeling of not being able to breathe and her chest aching. It had never hurt like this before. She went to the twins.

2:48 AM: ‘Please’

And as if on cue, the pain in her chest erupted into a sharp stabbing feeling in the middle of her sternum. That was it. She wasn’t going to wait anymore. Tara held her phone to her chest, while the other grabbed her inhaler, and she carefully moved herself off of the bed. She wheezed, a small cough finding its way out in an attempt to push the obstructing feeling out of oxygen’s way. But it wasn’t that easy, just made her chest feel even more pressured.

She felt weak as she walked towards the door, her back slightly hunched in her shaky steps. Tears started to fall from her eyes, winning the emotional battle to clog her trachea further. She tried to clear her throat and dry her eyes, knowing it would only get worse if the drainage were to catch up with her.

She made it to Chad’s room, where she staggered up to his bedside. “C-Chad?” she called out to him, knowing that he, Mindy, Sam, and herself had a tendency to lash out when touched while asleep, due to their PTSD. However, Chad didn’t move, so she moved closer and tried to speak a bit louder. “Chad.” Another bout of agony pierced her chest, and she was forced to swallow, which made her realize just how constricted her bronchial muscles were. She reached out and shook his shoulder lightly, “Chad!”

To her surprise, he didn’t wake in alarm, just stirred into consciousness. He lifted his head and blinked at her, still dazed from sleep.

Tara didn’t wait for him to say anything, the realization of waking someone up and having to explain what the reason was making everything all-the-more real. She whimpered. “M-my chest really hurts…” Her tears started to fall again, voice cracking as she started to crumble under the pressure of anxiety. Her breathing picked up, wheezes replacing her whimpers.

The sound of her voice and progression into hyperventilation made Chad’s gaze clear as he got up. “Okay. It’s okay, Tara. Easy,” he soothed, bringing a hand up to her back to gently rub it. “Is it an asthma attack?”

She nodded, her face creasing to cry as she shook her inhaler and used it. As she lowered it from her lips, she pressed against her chest. “I… I c-can’t… breathe,” she choked out around her wheezing and small coughs. She didn’t look up at him, just stood there shaking and shuddering at the sobs that were trying to come up her throat.

“Shhh,” her boyfriend shushed, “It’s alright, Tara, it’ll pass. You can breathe, just calm down.”

But she didn’t know how to. “I want… I wanna go get Sam…” Just saying her sister’s name made her want her even more. She was already thinking 10 steps ahead, thinking of herself being rushed to Urgent Care and ending up in a room, where she’d be cornered by nurses and doctors, touched and handled in ways she didn’t know if she could take after all of the nightmares. But if that’s what was meant to be, she wanted Sam with her the whole time. “Can you… go get Sam, please?” She rubbed her chest uncomfortably, squeezing her eyes shut as the agony tormented her. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she let it go in an exasperated sigh, which led to another bout of hyperactive breathing.

Meeks-Martin nodded, “Yeah. I’ll get her.” He kept his hand on her back as she nodded, seeing the stream of tears staining her cheeks. He wiped them, “Just try to stay calm, babe. If you cry, it’s gonna make it worse.”

He guided her to the living room and sat her down on the couch, then knelt down to her level. “Are you gonna be okay on your own? Do you want me to go get Mindy?”

Tara shook her head, still holding her chest like her heart was going to break out of it at any moment. Her wheezing was starting to be consistent with anxious moaning. “M’ fine…” Her leg was going a mile a minute as it bounced in its nervous way. “... Just want Sam.” She could barely get those words out before she hiccupped in a suppressed sob and gasped for breath again.

The other didn’t waste another moment, “Okay.” He stood up, gave a quick kiss to her head, then headed for the front door. He snatched the copied key to Danny’s apartment off of the key rack and looked back at her. “Just keep taking deep breaths, Tara.” And he was gone.

As calm as he had seemed around his girlfriend, his heart was gunning. He hadn’t experienced one of her asthma attacks like this before. It was almost like her body was here and she knew what she wanted, but her mind was somewhere else… fading with the lack of oxygen she was receiving. He didn’t know how long she’d been like that before she went to wake him. The way she shook so badly, the way fear and panic made her eyes crystals in the lowlights, the way she clawed at her chest, and the way she couldn’t settle down even with her inhaler. He feared returning with Sam to find her passed out, nearly lifeless. He hadn’t grown up with her asthma attacks, so he didn’t know what could happen. But PTSD from the close calls of losing her automatically assumed the worst.

He made it to his destination and let himself in, forcing himself to remain calm and not continue running, because the person he sought out was like a guard dog. A guard dog that had out-trained all bark warnings and went straight to biting.

Panting from the race over there, Chad slipped into the spare bedroom, immediately thanking his lucky stars when he found Sam sleeping in there rather than with Danny. The more people that got involved, the more stressed Tara might become. He stalked to the bedside and disregarded the no-contact boundary as he shook her shoulder. “Sam. Sam, wake up.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she picked her head up to find Chad stepping back and pulling his hand away. “What’s wrong?” A week out and she was still on high alert for anything, especially when someone who didn’t start out in this apartment ended up in it in the middle of the night.

“Tara’s having a bad asthma attack, and she wants you,” he told her.

As if she hadn’t been sleeping at all, Sam threw off the covers and got up, grabbing her phone off the bedside table and starting for the door. When she checked the time, she saw the 3 text messages Tara had sent her, and immediately her heart dropped in remorse. She hadn’t been there. She hadn’t noticed. “How bad?” She led the way out of the room, finding her way easily through the dark thanks to adrenaline.

“She’s shaking violently, gasping, wheezing, and sometimes, she starts coughing. Her inhaler doesn’t seem to be helping,” Chad informed, following close behind, “I don’t know how long it’s been going on, she literally woke me up right before I came to get you.”

Sam sighed, cursing under her breath, “Fuck…” As soon as she passed the front door, she hit the hall running.

Together, they seemed to get back faster than Chad had made the initial journey. However, Samantha completely changed her demeanor and was calm as she went in, performing for her little sister’s sake. She was good at that.

And she spoke to her in a comforting voice the minute she saw her. “What’s going on, Tara?”

Tara had seemed to get a handle on her emotions while she had been left alone, but once she saw her savior coming toward her, she burst into tears. “My chest hurts really bad, Sam…” she cried, tempted to get up and meet her halfway to feel her touch sooner.

All of the sudden, her breath caught in her throat as sobs tried to get out, while what little air that could filter into her lungs was trying to get in. She choked on it, erupting into a coughing fit that made her hyperventilating so severe in between coughs that a sharp, hoarse wheezing sound emitted from her vocal cords.

Her older sister was at her side in an instant, giving her back a pressured rub, while her other hand pushed against her chest to keep her from leaning forward too much. “It’s okay, Tara, it’s okay,” she eased in response to seeing the way her sibling’s nails dug deep into her knees. “I’m right here.”

Tara convulsed, ragged groans that sounded similar to retching coming through in her effort to stop coughing. One of her hands left her kneecap to hold the healing wound in her abdomen, the exertion putting strain on it.

“Let it happen,” Sam instructed, knowing coughing would help clear the accumulated mucus, “Come on.”

Those words seemed to control her as she let go and coughed some more. The pressure in her chest, the violent heaving of her lungs, the pain clawing her stomach—all of it had her starting to feel lightheaded and nauseous. “It hurts!” she managed to speak around another hack, clutching her scar.

“I know,” her big sister still spoke calmly and softly, letting the hand on her chest begin the same rotation as the one on her back, “I know, baby, but it’s gonna pass. Just get it out.” She glanced over as Chad came up beside her and held out a large plastic bowl, which she knew was in case Tara were to throw up or cough up some of the mucus. She mouthed ‘thank you’ to him and set the bowl on the edge of the coffee table in front of Tara.

He nodded, then stalked around to the other side of his girlfriend, where he crouched down and brushed her fallen hair back behind her shoulders.

Thankfully, the youngest weaned off of the coughing fit and was able to regain control, but not without pulling the bowl into her lap and holding the edges with a death grip. Her coughs were replaced with moans and subtle sobs as tears still slid down her face.

“There ya go,” Chad praised her, wiping her tears, before kissing her shoulder. “That’s my girl. A fighter.”

While her coughing had faded, she was still gasping for breath. It wasn’t as hyper as it had been before, but it was still enough for it to be a concern.

“You’re doing good, Tara.” Sam grabbed the inhaler off the coffee table and shook it, before putting it up to her sister’s lips. “Let’s try again,” she suggested and delivered the medication when her sibling leaned in for it.

This time, her recovering exhale seemed a little more controlled, which led Chad to ask. “Is it a little easier now?”

She managed a nod but was still trembling, wheezing and fidgety with panic. “Mm… M-my chest still hurts… and…” she paused to swallow, “my stomach’s upset…”

Shit. Tara hated throwing up. She was terrified of it, because it felt the same way an asthma attack did—with being unable to get enough air—but also the feeling of drowning was added to it. Being nauseous would no-doubt make her work herself up again.

“That’s just because of the coughing,” her older sister assured, “It’ll go away soon.” She then looked away from Tara to grab Chad’s attention. “Chad, do you have any ginger tea?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Make some for her, please. That’ll help dilate her airways and ease her nausea.”

“Sure,” he jumped up to retreat to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Tara rubbed her queasy stomach and began to produce breathy moans on her exhales, anxiously sitting on the edge of the sofa cushion.

“Relax, Tara,” Samantha told her, still rubbing her back. “You’re okay. Why don’t you lean back, so you can settle down?”

But Tara shook her head, “Mm.. no…” Instead, she scooted a little closer to the edge. She could feel that it was a little easier to breathe now, but she was still attacked with random bouts of violent shaking that came from deep within her chest. It made her entire body tense up and her lungs feel like they were being squeezed into one.

However, Sam was thinking clearly and knew that was what she needed. So, she pushed herself farther back onto the couch and situated herself accordingly, before going forward to gently guide Tara to lean back against her. “Come on…”

And her baby sister obeyed. She found herself leaning into what would’ve been a comfortable slouch against her sibling’s torso, if it weren’t for her churning innards. She whimpered a little bit, but was shushed by Sam and felt her comb her hair back softly. It felt like home.

“Just breathe, my love,” her big sister instructed, feeling the aggressive shivering against her chest. “You’re safe. I’m right here, I’ve got you.” She slipped her hand beneath Tara’s to take over the therapeutic massage on her abdomen. “Just breathe…”

The other kept her hand on Sam’s wrist, applying only light pressure as she scratched her skin. If she was completely still, it felt like those moments in the movies where all noise stops right before a jump-scare happens. In other words, if she wasn’t moving in some way, she was sure something bad was going to happen. She swallowed some thick mucus with a groan and felt her stomach fizz and a rumbling noise come from it that made her squirm a little. “My stomach, Sammy…” she whimpered and mindlessly made the instinctive effort to sit up.

But Sam held her there, continuing to soothe her physically and verbally. “It’s fine. Your stomach is fine, I promise… But it can’t settle down until you do.” She kissed her head, when an uncomfortable whine answered her.

Tara went back to minutes ago, when all she wanted was Sam, how she thought everything would be okay as long as Sam was there with her. To touch her, hold her, talk to her. She had to go back to that moment. She had to remember why it was important that her sister was there and why she wanted her there. It was because nothing could hurt her when Sam was near.

“Take a deep breath.”

She did.

“Let it out slowly.”

She did.

“Again.”

She did.

“Just keep breathing.”

She did.

Eventually, she noticed that she had stopped shaking, and her nausea had started to fizzle out.

“How’s your chest?”

“Still feels tight,” she replied, “but it’s getting a little easier to breathe.”

Samantha pressed another loving kiss to her little sister’s temple, her relief projected in her voice, “Good girl. And your stomach?”

Tara sighed in another deep breath. “It’s better…” At this response, she felt the hand tending to the area stop its caressing, which made her speak out. “No, keep going,” she ordered, her voice pitching in the way it always did when she wanted something. She was worried that if Sam stopped, there would be nothing to soothe her formal queasiness. It had happened before, and after this mess of an attack, she was not about to take any chances.

Her older sister bit back a chuckle at how normal her objection sounded, in respects to the way her typical personality was when she wasn’t anxious and just being her daily self, “Okay.” She carried on.

Tara closed her eyes and rubbed her head on Sam’s collarbone with a comforted hum, her breathing much more controlled with only a light wheeze. “Thank you for coming, Sam,” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” came the reply, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t awake when you texted me.”

The younger felt a kiss on her hairline, which made her shake her head, “It’s fine. I know you’re tired.”

“That’s no excuse, Tara…”

“You’re here now,” she insisted, pausing to take another deep breath. She let it out. “That’s all that matters.”

Chad came around with a steaming mug of ginger tea in his hand and sat down next to them. “Are you ready to drink some tea, Tara?” He glanced away from the look of his now-relaxed girlfriend, who was much calmer than the last time he’d seen her, to Sam. They exchanged a soft smile with each other, finding the peace that things had settled for the night.

Tara opened her eyes and slowly sat up, allowing her sibling to free her hand of its duty while she took the cup from him. She placed it into her lap. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” she glanced over to him, almost ashamedly.

But he turned that around real quick. “Hey, don’t be sorry. That’s what family’s for,” he assured with a smile. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

She rehearsed another deep breath and looked down at the calm surface of the ginger tea. The kind of calm that she should be. “Me too.”

i'm so mad, i was so close to posting 3 days straight, but i finished this at 12:30 at night last night and knew i should wait until morning rip. 💀

p.s. just for the record (for anyone who read my pre-notes), i don't have asthma, but i do experience nocturnal panic attacks. This fic was based on one i had a couple of weeks ago. i was sick at the time and woke up in the middle of the night with a lot of chest pain and tightness. the text messages Tara sent were the exact texts and times I had sent to my mom and siblings, bc i was too scared to leave my room. turns out that experience allowed me to create a good one-shot for this prompt :)

All my best ♡ - parker

#scream #scream v #scream vi #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #chad meeks martin #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #based off of true events #30 day writing challenge #just breathe #AU: All My Heart

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