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riversofmars · 2 years

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Songs Of Love - Day 18

Prompt: Panic

Rating: G

Summary: The threat that Liv might leave the TARDIS if the Eleven stays weighs heavily on Helen. One particularly bad night, she wakes in a panic, dreading she would lose her best friend forever.

Natural History Of Fear

“No please, just-”

Helen pressed her hand to her chest as she tried to breathe. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, she could feel her heartbeat picking up to a frantic, panicked pace, struggling to transport oxygen that just wasn’t there. Her lungs wouldn’t fill, her chest felt tight and she couldn’t convince her body into carrying out a most basic function.

She pushed herself upright and managed a gasp. Her chest was burning. The next breath came a little easier and she pressed her hands to her forehead as she started counting in her head, giving herself something to focus on. Another breath came and she felt a little bit more in control.

She hadn’t had panic attacks in a long time. Not since she had been a young woman. They were just as horrible as she remembered. She focused her breathing, slow and even, in and out, she forced herself upright, leaning against the headboard while she wanted nothing more than to curl up and bury herself under her duvet. That, however, would not be conducive to the situation.

It was just a dream. She repeated those words like a mantra but it was hard to believe them when they were rooted firmly in reality.

“I’m going, I’ve had enough, I can’t stand it anymore!” Liv had snapped as she gathered her belongings, stuffed them unceremoniously into a bag.

“Liv-” Helen had stepped close, reached for her friend’s arm but the med-tech pulled away. She marched to the wardrobe and grabbed a handful of clothes, only things she was attached to.

“No, don’t even try to change my mind. The Doctor has made his choice. If he wants the Eleven here, fine, but I won’t be, not after everything,” she was visibly angry, shaking, her face flushed, and her words spilled out harsh and unhindered.

“It’s only temporary,” the linguist tried to reason but she shook her head.

“It’s been months Helen, he’s not going anywhere!” She shouted, a whirlwind of emotions as she pushed her clothes inside the bag. “They’ve become friends. He can’t see what’s right in front of his eyes and I’m not gonna stick around to watch this accident waiting to happen!”

“You’re right, of course you’re right, he is dangerous, we have to protect the Doctor, even if he can’t-” Helen’s words seemed almost weak in comparison but she had to try and make her see reason.

“I’ve tried, I’ve told him time and again but he won’t listen so I’m done,” Liv pulled the zip of the bag shut and shouldered the rucksack. “I’m leaving,” she stated firmly and faced her best friend who stepped in her way.

“Please don’t,” the linguist pleaded, her voice trembling and she reached out for her arms.

“I’ve made up my mind,” Liv squared her jaw, making clear that she would not be dissuaded and Helen’s heart sank.

“But what about me? Won’t you do it for me, you can’t-” Panic flooded her mind. The very real prospect of losing her best friend restricted her airway, squeezed her heart, her lungs and she felt herself going numb.

“What about you Helen? You have to decide for yourself,” the med-tech retorted expectantly, she didn’t seem fazed by how pale her friend had gone, how desperately tense and panicked.

“We can’t just leave him, not alone with the Eleven, if he manages to gain control of the TARDIS, there is no way of knowing what-” Helen’s words were born out of responsibility, kindness and friendship. It would have been easy to choose to walk away with her, leave the struggles they had had in the TARDIS of late behind, enjoy each other’s company as they had been, and see where their path would take them. But Helen loved the Doctor too. Differently, but it was love nonetheless. And she couldn’t attribute value to love. Romantic love as she felt for Liv and the platonic love of friendship she held for the Doctor were both important to her. She couldn’t choose. She wouldn’t.

“Then I guess you have made your choice,” Liv snapped with deep hurt in her voice. “I thought I meant more to you than that…” For a moment, Helen thought she saw tears welling up in the med-tech’s eyes but she didn’t have the chance to confirm as much. Liv pushed past her. “Goodbye, Helen.”

“Liv-” Helen flew around to see her storm from the room. “LIV!”

“Liv, please…” Helen whispered softly as flashes of her nightmare rushed back to her. She buried her face in her hands and pushed the horrible images from her mind. Repeating, again and again, that nothing of the sort had happened. It took an awfully long time for her heartbeat to slow and her breathing to return to normal. Once she was in control of her body again, she realised it was still the middle of the night - or whatever passed as such in the TARDIS. Even when they were out in the depth of space where no natural day and night would occur, the space and time ship took good care of its inhabitants and created appropriate sleeping circles for them.

Helen rubbed her face and took in the calm humming of the TARDIS that sought to sooth her racing thoughts but to no great effect. She knew she ought to try and get back to sleep but she wasn’t sure she would be able to. Her pyjamas were sticking to her with sweat, she was uncomfortable and needed to get changed. Slowly she swung her legs out of bed. As much as she tried to block the intrusive thoughts out, her mind continued to race with horrible scenarios in which she would be left without Liv who had become the closest thing to family she had. Ever since she had sealed her family’s fate by setting her own future in stone, she had become aware of how utterly alone in the universe she was. Just because she hadn’t been particularly close with most of her family didn’t mean she didn’t mourn the loss of belonging somewhere and having a home. Ever since, the TARDIS had become her home and Liv and the Doctor her family. Her nightmare had been a reaction to recent changes in the TARDIS. They had picked up the Eleven and his presence was slowly but surely driving a wedge into the home they had built together. While the Doctor was giving the Eleven a chance and doing his best to connect with him, Liv was growing increasingly more irate and uncomfortable, unwilling to participate in what she considered a farce. Helen could see both sides of the argument and found herself helplessly stuck in the middle, fearing her new found family would break.

Helen stood and made her way to the bathroom. As she splashed water in her face she had to admit to herself that the situation was weighing heavily on her. The panic attack had driven the point home painfully. The linguist looked at her reflection in the mirror, her face pale and drawn, and she realised she was at a loss, she felt out of control, and she didn’t know how to move forward.

She felt her chest tighten once more when she realised there was nothing she could do about what was happening. She had tried, just like Liv, to reason with the Doctor and find a solution but he was dead-set on helping the Eleven and wouldn’t hear of their concerns. It was only a matter of time until things spun out of control, even if the Doctor was right about helping him, Liv would lose patience eventually. Helen leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the mirror. She couldn’t think about it anymore, it was wearing her down, she needed to distract herself somehow.

Perhaps a cup of tea , she thought as she straightened up and her innate Britishness reared its head. There was nothing that couldn’t be solved by a good cup of tea , her mother used to say, and so, once changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas, she left her room.

The TARDIS was quiet around her as she headed the way she knew the kitchen to be. Her steps echoed through the TARDIS corridors and she ran her hand through her messy hair. The walk to the kitchen felt a lot longer than it usually did. She pinched her brow and rubbed her eyes as she surmised that she must be more tired than she thought. She wondered if she had somehow managed to get lost as she felt she had passed the same door three times already and seemingly wasn’t getting anywhere close to her destination.

By the time Helen passed by the door in question a fourth time, she halted, annoyed. She knew it was the same door, as it was a distinct orange colour that she hadn’t noticed anywhere else in the TARDIS, so it left her with one conclusion only.

“Are you doing this?” Helen huffed, addressing the TARDIS. She looked up and down the corridor and then at the door in question. “What do you want?”

The TARDIS gave a low hum and Helen understood her explanation, even if she wasn’t using words humans would be able to understand. In a way, Helen felt privileged that she could. After forty years of living in the space and time ship by herself, she had grown almost attuned to her moods, just as the Doctor was. She knew better than to fight it.

“Fine, if you insist…” she sighed at last and taking the hint, she stepped up to the door. She trusted the TARDIS and hoped that whatever she had in store for her would make her feel better. Slowly, she turned the knob and pulled the door open. What she found astounded her beyond words, she gaped as she stepped into the doorway.

The sunlight blinded her. For a moment, she thought she had walked right out of the TARDIS but she knew she hadn’t. How had she never discovered this room in her forty years of travel? She had been too focused, too single-minded. The Library, Liv’s bedroom, the kitchen and the console room, she had never ventured any further, not when she could have spent time researching and finding a way back to the Doctor and Liv. It seemed as though there were untold wonders left to discover in the depth of their ship and she was being shown one of them in what felt like a heartfelt attempt to cheer her up.

The linguist gave a small smile and sent a silent ‘thank you’ to the TARDIS as the warm sunshine sought to chase away the storm clouds of negative emotions that engulfed her. Gingerly, she stepped forward onto lush green grass. She had forgone shoes as she hadn’t anticipated any detours between her room and the nearby kitchen, so she felt the light dampness of the fresh grass underneath her feet. It felt incredibly real and she supposed that it probably was. There was no way this place was just a projection.

Slowly, she walked further out into what could only be described as a meadow. Her eyes had adjusted to the bright sunlight and she could look into the distance now, to a vast horizon. Sloping green meadows stretched all around, flowers interspersing bright colour into the hues of greens. The sky above the rolling hills was a magnificent blue with only a few stray clouds drawing past high above.

And then, there were the butterflies. At first Helen had thought them flowers but then they had swarmed into the sky. Untold numbers of butterflies of all shapes, patterns and sizes, more than she had ever seen before, and they were swirling all around her, a gentle storm of colour. It was mesmerising.

“Helen?” A familiar voice drew Helen out of her awe. She looked around, towards the voice, as the swarms of butterflies drew into the skies dispersing and circling, wild and free in the wind.

“Liv?” Helen asked surprised and she found her best friend perching in the grass halfway up a nearby hill. She knew she should have expected to find her after the TARDIS had been so terribly insistent about her coming here, but still, somehow, she hadn’t. Liv seemed just as surprised to see her, she straightened herself up to a sitting position. By the looks of it she had been resting in the grass, looking up at the sky and the butterflies. Much like Helen herself, she was in pyjamas: small shorts and a tank top and the linguist prised her eyes away from her bare legs as she folded them.

“What are you doing here?” The med-tech asked and while her tone wasn’t accusatory, she seemed uncomfortable, as if she felt caught red-handed at something.

”What is this place?” Helen responded with a question of her own as she allowed her eyes to graze over the horizon once more. While her arrival here had been incidental, it seemed as though her friend’s being here was purposeful and she figured she would be able to answer.

“Oh just… one of the Doctor’s many hideouts,” Liv answered slowly as the linguist stepped closer. She looked around as well, following her friend’s eyes. “Not that he’s using it much at present, mind.” “I had no idea this was here,” Helen confessed and couldn’t keep the awestruck wonder out of her voice.

“The Doctor showed me a while back after some particularly nasty business with some vampires,” the med-tech answered in an off-hand sort of way and gave a little smile when Helen’s head flew around, gaping at the mention of vampires. “He thought we could do with the sunlight.”

“You never told me about that,” the linguist retorted, somewhat affronted but her demeanour softened when she considered the friendship her and the Doctor had shared, even before Helen herself had joined them. It was no wonder Liv was taking the Doctor’s sudden commitment to the Elven particularly hard. “I suppose there are a great many adventures you haven’t told me about.”

“I suppose…” The med-tech dropped her gaze and she picked a flower from the spot between her folded legs, twirled the stem in her fingers absent-mindedly, and Helen imagined she might be contemplating the passing of all things, the way living things faded once damaged, once wounded, like a friendship that had been dealt a blow and it remained to be seen if the stem would be severed or not.

“Couldn’t sleep?” The linguist inquired and dropped into the grass beside her. She ran her fingers through the luscious green, enjoying the feeling of fresh dew on her fingertips. She looked over to her friend who dropped the flower she had picked.

“No,” she huffed, more annoyed than she had probably intended and she must have noticed as her voice softened noticeably when she looked over to her and continued: “You?”

”No,” Helen confirmed with a sorrowful smile.

“I just… don’t sleep easily with him around,” Liv admitted to something the linguist could have guessed and they both looked out onto the horizon, watching the butterflies rise and dive across the meadow.

“That’s understandable,” Helen hummed and the med-tech looked over to her.

“And what’s keeping you up?” She asked, genuine concern lacing her words, and her friend’s heart soared like the butterflies around them.

“Oh just… nothing important…” She couldn’t bring herself to voice her concerns, not when she was enjoying being in her presence just the two of them and in such lovely surroundings too.

“You are a terrible liar,” Liv chuckled but not unkindly.

“Hmm,” Helen just gave a nondescript, though somewhat guilty hum and the med-tech carried on:

“You look exhausted.”

“You’re no better,” the linguist countered with a mild smile and Liv laughed:

“Well, I always look like a mess, you, however...”

Helen blushed a little at the compliment and decided to award it with some honesty.

“I guess I… just had a lot on my mind with everything that’s going on,” she admitted.

“Hm,” Liv just nodded in agreement, as though she knew exactly what she was talking about and Helen figured that she probably did. Exactly the same circumstances were plaguing them both and suddenly, the linguist found herself confronted with her nightmare again. Not even the bright sun could warm her as an icy shudder ran down her spine at the thought of it.

“Liv?” She said urgently, as she longed for her reassurance. Quickly she reached out and found her friend’s hand in the grass. She grasped it, tightly, and the med-tech looked up to her confused:

“Yes?” She frowned but returned the tight squeeze of her hand.

“You’re not… you’re not going to leave, are you?” The words tumbled over Helen’s lips, clumsy and uncoordinated, but she couldn’t hold them back. She had to know so that she could start preparing for the worst, and try to make a decision in her heart which way she would turn when the question came.

“What makes you say that?” Liv replied slowly as she studied her face.

“I just… I have a feeling like you might and it’s…” Helen dropped her gaze, self-conscious under her keen eyes and she grasped her hand a little tighter.

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it,” after long deliberation, the med-tech spoke into the silence that spread between them.

“Oh,” was all Helen could manage to say as her chest tightened, the panic resurfacing, more keenly than before as suddenly, her worst fears were bleed into reality. She willed her body to suppress the involuntary reaction to her words but it was no use. Her thoughts were beginning to spiral and panic clamped around her chest like a vice. She squeezed her eyes shut, she didn’t want Liv to see her like this but she lost control over her body. She gasped for air that didn’t come.

“Helen, it’s-” Suddenly, the med-tech’s hands were on her shoulders, keeping her upright. And then, one hand grasped her cheek, the other pressed to her chest. “It’s okay, breathe-”

Helen’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she took a strangled breath, her head was spinning but she leaned into the reassuring touch on her cheek and breathed against the warm hand on her chest.

“And again…” Liv encouraged her softly, caressing her cheek and the linguist hung her head, flustered as she felt a tear fall from her eyes and collided with her fingertips.

“Nothing- it’s nothing, I’m fine,” she wanted to state, confidently and firmly, but it was more of a whisper.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” the med-tech promised warmly and Helen nodded. Despite her embarrassment, she appreciated the assurance and, slowly, she regained control over herself.

“Okay…” She nodded and looked up to Liv who gave her a smile and retreated her hands once satisfied that she was okay. Helen missed her touch instantly.

“Lie down with me,” her friend offered, not giving her much of a chance to mourn the loss of closeness.

“What?” The linguist asked feebly.

“Just do it,” Liv insisted softly and brought her hand back to her chest but this time, applying more pressure: enough to ease her back into the grass. Helen gave in, she settled and Liv came to lie beside her. “Look at the butterflies,” the med-tech instructed and she did.

“They really are remarkable,” the linguist observed as she forgot about her discomfort for a moment, watching the beautiful display.

“Aren’t they? I could watch them for hours,” Liv commented and raised her hand to the sky to point out a particularly colourful flock of butterflies towards the left. “Look at the patterns, the formations they fly in. Soothing, right?” Her words had a calming effect too and Helen took a deep breath, reassuring and freeing.

“Mesmerising more like,” she stated with a soft smile.

“That too,” Liv agreed but she wasn’t looking at the butterflies anymore. Helen felt her eyes on her and she turned her head to find her friend’s brow scrunched into a frown of concern. “Do you get panic attacks often?” She asked before she could say anything.

”No,” Helen answered evasively and quickly turned her head again, looking up and focusing on the lovely swarming butterflies. They gave her comfort, even as she carried on more honestly: “Not anymore.”

“But you used to?” The med-tech deduced and there was no judgement in her voice, just concern. Helen jumped, ever so slightly, when her hand found hers, resting on her stomach.

“When I was younger,” she replied without looking at her, she thought she might not get the words out if she saw the concern, the pity, in her eyes. She didn’t want to be seen as weak. She didn’t want her to pity her. But she also couldn’t lie to her. It was part of her past that she wanted to forget. She thought she had come through it, she believed herself stronger than she had been back then, and yet, she couldn’t deny the painful realisation that, clearly, there were still things that shook her to the very core and wrestled control from her.

“You never told me about that,” Liv observed beside her and Helen countered:

“Seems like I haven’t told you everything about me either.”

“How about I tell you about my encounter with the vampires if you tell me about these panic attacks?” The med-tech offered, seemingly unfazed by her quip, and Helen was grateful as she regretted the comment already. Opening up wasn’t easy for her. She had been raised in a household of denial and charades, of keeping a public face and never acknowledging or accepting genuine emotions and who they all were as people. Having the space to do so now was a challenge as much as it was a blessing.

“This, the reason why that just happened, is not related to my youth,” Helen chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to drag up the past. They were two different issues, she reminded herself.

“Isn’t it?” Liv’s voice was curious and somewhat doubtful, so the linguist shook her head more firmly:

“No.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” the med-tech seemed to have taken her words as a warning, as a: thus far and no further, and she retreated her hand, let go of her and turned to lie back in the grass, directing her eyes at the sky.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Helen looked around, caught a glimpse of the brief flash of hurt that crossed her best friend’s features and she could have kicked herself. She didn’t want to push her away, not now, not ever, it would be entirely contrary to everything she wished for in her heart. She quickly pushed herself up on her side and reached across, she grabbed Liv’s hand and squeezed it tightly as the med-tech looked around, confused. “I just… Please don’t leave,” she pleaded.

“Helen…” Liv started with a frown but the linguist interrupted her:

”I don’t think I- I wouldn’t know what to do. You’re the closest thing to family I’ve got and-” she started rambling. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t. Helen, I wouldn’t leave,” the med-tech assured her softly and pushed herself up as well. And then, presumably at the pleading expression in her friend’s eyes, she raised her hand to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles before adding: “Not without you.”

“You’d- you’d let me come with you?” Helen’s eyes widened in surprise and colour shot to her cheeks. A tingling sensation spread from the spot where her lips had touched her and warmth made its way through her body in a tidal-wave that was soothing her in one way, but filled her with thrilling excitement in another.

“Of course,” Liv answered with a soft smile. “Is that so surprising?”

“I-” The linguist found herself at a loss for words and she flushed more deeply. Her eyes dropped to their intertwined fingers that the med-tech had pulled against her chest, resting comfortably on her sternum.

“What?” Liv prompted gently to break her silence. “It’s okay, everything will be fine,” she assured her as she sought to meet her eyes. Helen refused to, but only because she was searching her mind for the best possible words to say what she felt she should have revealed a long time ago.

“The panic attacks first started when they took my brother Albie away,” she said at last, grateful for Liv’s patient silence. She still didn’t look at her but she could imagine the soft, compassionate expression on her face as she replied:

“I didn’t realise you had another brother? I thought it was just George and Harry?”

“There was Albie, too,” Helen revealed slowly. “He was a bit older than me and he-”

”When you say they took him away…” Liv’s words were gentle and yet, they shook her to the very core as if shouted with aggression. Helen gathered her courage, took a deep breath, and drew strength for her best friend’s closeness, her unconditional support that she felt keenly at the soft caress of her thumb against the back of her hand.

“He was caught… accused of doing things with… another man… and in those days…” She gestured with her other hand, unable to give a more precise description and left Liv to fill in the blanks, which she seemed to do with ease, despite limited knowledge of the past, as her next words were spoken with such gentleness, such sincerity, such compassion:

“I’m so sorry Helen, I had no idea.”

“It’s a long time ago now… But I still think about him. We were close, we…” Helen mumbled, finding herself still unable to meet her eyes. Her gaze remained with their intertwined hands.

“That must have been a traumatic experience for you, it’s no wonder that you-” Liv started her words of comfort, but the linguist hurried to interrupt:

“It wasn’t just that. Of course, the idea of what would happen to him in prison and seeing my family turn their backs on him weighed heavily on me but it wasn’t just that,” she said but it left her with having to phrase the hardest part. The part that she still struggled to speak out loud, even now, that she had grown to accept it. “Was it because you were scared the same thing might happen to you?” The med-tech asked gently, lifting the weight off her shoulders with a few liberating words and Helen’s eyes shot up, shocked.

“How do you-” She wasn’t sure she had heard her right but the knowing smile on her friend’s face spoke to a shared knowledge and acceptance she couldn’t quite fathom.

“Doesn’t take a genius to work out, given your lack of interest in men,” Liv pointed out but not unkindly, she simply smiled and allowed her time to process her words, her revelation that her great, terrifying secret wasn’t one at all and bore none of the consequences she had feared.

“Oh,” the linguist dropped her gaze once more, blushing anew but this time the med-tech didn’t allow her to hide behind her discomfort. She reached for her face with her free hand and made her look at her.

“Helen, that’s nothing to be worried or ashamed about,” she explained firmly, yet gently and brushed her thumb over her cheek, soothing the blush of embarrassment. Helen took a shaky breath and allowed her quiet acceptance, her understated, unconditional understanding to wash over her like soothing rain. She found a new space to speak in, to tell her story, to reveal more than she ever had and finally felt comfortable to do so.

“At the time the very thought of- I would panic so I never put myself in any danger,” the linguist explained, leaning into her soft touch. “Or formed any sort of romantic attachment.” It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to, there had been opportunities too, but she had never dared. “The panic attacks passed when I made the decision to focus on my career and forgo romance altogether.” It had been the inevitable conclusion to the situation and, ultimately, what had allowed her to lead a normal life, albeit an empty one.

“Is that… is that still the case?” Liv asked softly, once sure she had concluded her explanation and silence had fallen once more.

“I-” Helen’s eyes shot up, catching the soft smile her friend was giving her, full of unspoken declarations and truths. Her mind went blank as she considered the possibilities that opened up before her, suddenly. Possibilities she had longed for but never thought herself worthy of. Liv’s smile, however, was soft and patient as she carried on:

“Or is it a coincidence that you have a panic attack now for the first time in years and it’s concerning…”

“You?” Helen concluded and almost laughed at the irony of the situation. Her fears had evolved as naturally as she herself. Where she had been too scared to love before, she was now terrified of losing it.

“Helen, I-” Liv took a deep breath, seemingly prepared to lay her heart bare in return, to say the things they should have acknowledged long ago. For a moment she blushed too, insecure and nervous, intimidated by the moment, and Helen realised she could do more, she owed her more. And so she leaned forward and kissed her, taking the words straight from her mouth into her heart. She didn’t need to hear them said, not now, her lips told her everything she needed to know, as Liv kissed her back: gently, patiently but firmly. She moved her hand from her cheek into her hair and grasped the other more tightly against her chest.

“Liv, please don’t break my heart, please don’t-” Helen whispered as she rested her forehead on Liv’s. She squeezed her eyes shut as she fought tears. To have her now and lose her would be harder than never having experienced the sweetness of her lips. “If you leave I-”

“I’m not leaving,” Liv interrupted her firmly. “Not without you.” And Helen opened her eyes, filled with tears as they were, to find her best friend smiling at her through tears of her own, tears of joy and gratitude and love.

“Liv…” The linguist sobbed and Liv gathered her into her arms. She pressed kiss after kiss to the side of her head and whispered:

“I think I can last a little while longer. For you.”

#Doctor Who #fanfiction #liv chenka #helen sinclair #femslash #liv x helen #butterfly room #hurt/comfort #angst #first kiss

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