“My week was so peaceful… please don’t tell me you plan on getting into trouble.” Arlo somehow found me again while he was on patrol.

“I don’t plan on it… look i’m not in the mood…” I gathered my stuff and walked off, I had what I needed anyway.

“You seem moody… are you okay?” Arlo noticed.

“Moody?” I had moment of realization… the reason I was in a pissy mood and had cramps! I proably should have paid more attention… “...fuck…” I ran off home.

When I got home I left my materials outside where I kept them, then ran inside the cabin. Great I was on my period! It always made me feel dysphoric when this happened. I always wished there was a way for me to be able to get rid of them… but medical science hadn’t invented a way yet, so I was stuck with them.

I chose to lay in bed and read as I limited my suffering with a heating pad while cocooned with my comforter. I pretty much lazied around for the next 5 days… I’d mainly read my books I’d brought from home and was comfy in my cocoon. Cause on the 6th day Arlo knocked on my door. I was wearing a tanktop that thankfully didn’t show my surgery scars and cargo shorts… so nearly all of my tattoos were visible but I didn’t care.

“What?” I answered the door very annoyed… I hadn’t brushed my hair so I’m sure I looked like a mess. I’d abandoned my warm nest… thankfully tough I had my hot cocoa mug in hand so my hands were warm at least and I could enjoy the warmth as I took a sip from the mug that said “Piss Of.”

“It’s 8 am! Why are you mad at me?” Arlo was a bit peeved with my attitude, but I didn’t really care.

“Because I was reading a really good book- why is Remmington staring at me?” I noticed.

“You have tattoos?” He asked.

“...Yes. Now… why are you here?”

“What do they mean?” He asked… he wasn’t disgusted… he was fascinated.

“Uh… most of them were inspired by doodles I used to do when I was a teenager when i’d draw on myself with sharpie… the rainbow ones were from when a… an old friend was board an chose to draw on me…” I answered.

That same friend had also been in the flying pigs… she died in battle. A few years ago. So I got them tattooed so they could be a reminder of her.

“So cool…” Remmington commented.

“Now… Why the fuck are you guys here? I’ve been good, I haven’t gone where you told me not to.” I was intrigued.

“Welll… we need your help.” Arlo answered.

I made a dramatic pause sipping my cocoa, “With?”

“So we need a builder to inspect the structural integrity of an old ruin… Higgs is busy so you’re our last option…” Arlo answered.

“Look I’m bus-”

“With what?” Sam asked.

“Personal shit that affects how I act and my impulses so just so you’re warned I do have a knife near my door and I will stab it through your skull if you interrupt me again. Okay? Okay.” I sighed, “I’m busy for the rest of this week so I cannot help you at this current moment. Give me like 3 days and I can help.” I answered Arlo’s, practically what was a question.

“…See! He’s in a pissy mood! I told you guys that’s why he was hiding away like a gremlin!” Arlo commented.

“What?” I was confused about what had happened.

“So basically Arlo told us about you being really irritable 5 or so days ago and since then you’ve been like kinda not… okay we’ve not seen you at all. So Arlo thinks you’re pissed about something going on and you’re hiding away as a coping mechanism.” Remington answered.

“Oh! Yeah now piss off… I was in the middle of a good book.” I closed my door. They knocked again, “What?” I opened the door very angry.

“You closed the door before I could offer you a peace offering… here.” Arlo was alone, the other two must've left.

It was chocolate… my favorite… “How the fuck do you know my favorite chocolate?”

“I just chose my favorite cause I didn’t know yours. I also just kinda know that chocolate pleases everyone. And you seemed pissed at me for some reason so like I said it’s a peace offering so we can at least be on good-ish terms again.” Arlo was still holding it out for me to take.

“… I’m not mad at you… so you can keep it.” I was waiting for him to say bye before I closed the door on him again… but it was just awkward silence for a bit.

“Are you sure?” Arlo asked, he seemed puzzled.

“Yeah. I… I don’t need anything.” I felt my cramps worsen… I wanted to get back to my heating pad and my comforter.

“…Then consider it a late birthday gift.” Arlo smiled and kept holding it out.

“You really want me to have it don’t you?” I asked, and he nodded, “Why?”

“Because.” Arlo's answer was kinda dumb but I took the chocolate anyway.

“Fine…” I paused and mumbled; “Thanks…”

“You’re welcome.” Arlo waved… then he began to walk off… it was slow.

I got what I wanted… but I also kinda enjoyed talking with him… ugh this stupid crush that all started cause he was hot is so stupid! And it’s getting worse! He’s kind… he’s nice and he’s protective… all I want in a boyfriend. But… I can’t have it. And what if it turns out that’s his public face and his private one is cruel, toxic, and abusive?

I’m scared.

You see, I've had many relationships in my late teens and early twenties. Both sexual and romantic… somehow all of them were toxic and abusive. So I’ve tried to stop being in relationships, it’s difficult because I want to love someone and be loved by someone, romantically and sexually.

I want that comfort, I want that security, I want that love and care my sister can’t provide me with. And even though Dailah’s my sister, she doesn’t understand the extent of the dysphoria I suffer from… I get that a partner can’t really understand and help either so now I don’t even like touch from others except from my sister. I know I’ve transitioned and everything but there are still so many people in my past who know and took advantage of it. So thinking about it sex with someone isn’t a good idea…

…I just want the comfort and acknowledgment of being a guy’s boyfriend then, I want the comfort of being acknowledged as a boy by a partner.

But would Arlo even accept that? Would he be okay with me-

Why am I thinking this? Why? I shouldn’t be! I can’t be…

FUCK! I’d triggered a panic attack… no… no… no. No. No! NO!

I was still at my door… Arlo was still close… he’d see me clawing at my chest, he'd see me struggling to breath. He’d see me at my most vulnerable.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” Arlo ran back over… at some point I’d leaned against the door frame and sat down, I was clawing and gripping at my chest. “Aki?”

I could sense the worry in Arlo's voice… I didn’t need that right now. But I couldn’t breathe… much less speak.

“Aki, do you want me to help you inside?” Arlo asked.

I nodded. Home… home was safe.

Arlo picked me up, freaking bridal style and took me inside where he sat me down on my couch. He left for my kitchen and returned with a cup of water.

“Hey… do you want a hug?” Arlo asked.

I both wanted one and didn’t want one… I couldn’t decide… I wanted the comfort and earth that came with the hug… but the touch… it’d also make me feel dysphoric. And that won’t help me.

“Okay… um…”

Arlo didn’t know how to help. He didn’t know what was going on… he was confused. He was worried, he must've felt helpless. I needed to ground myself… but I kept spiraling.

Then I remembered. My sister was worried about me so she wrote a letter about me. I didn’t know what she wrote, but she told me I should give it to someone I trust here in Portia. So there must be something in there that could help Arlo without me doing anything-

I could breathe. I’d grounded myself by trying to figure out how I could tell Arlo what was going on. I took a few extra moments to calm my heartbeat down. I was fine now.

“Oh my god what was that?” Arlo asked once he knew I was now fine. He was still worried.

“…A panic attack…” I mummered.

“A what?” Arlo was confused.

“It’s… a… mental and physical response… it’s kinda hard to explain.” I answered.

“Response to what?” Arlo seemed genuinely curious and worried.

“Well it depends on the person. To some the trigger can be overstimulation, it can be being in a situation that has a resemblance to a traumatic experience, some people spiral so bad that they go into one… there’s more triggers but that’s all I name that are basic off the top of my head. But it all really depends on the person.” I answered with a quiet voice.

“…What triggered yours?” Arlo asked.

I hesitated… “I um… I was spiraling. I spiral kinda bad sometimes.”

“I talked to you… then I was leaving and then you had your panic attack… was it something I did?” Arlo asked.

“No. I um… I have my own problems… it’s fine… you can go now… thanks…”

“It’s not fine. If it’s something that can cause that-”

“Why are you so concerned about this?” I kinda raised my voice… I didn’t mean to… “…I’m sorry…”

“Because I couldn’t do anything to help… I want to help everyone… It's like a need for me to be able to do that. But I couldn’t do anything to help. Maybe it’s like something I’ve developed because I’ve always been able to help and I’m typically in control of every dangerous situation because of my position in the civil corps. But I feel like I can’t do anything anymore… because you don’t listen no matter how much I tell you not to go into dangerous situations and just then I couldn’t do anything to help you. It… it scares me that I can’t do anything to help.” Arlo looked like he was about to cry as he paced in front of the couch, “Maybe I’m just a control freak but I’m genuinely scared of not being able to help everyone… I’m scared I can’t protect everyone… and you’re definitely not helping with your obsession of running head first into danger… and I feel like now, with you not telling me how I can help you I feel… scared… cause what if someone else I care about has a similar problem and has a panic attack? I want to help. Please let me?”

“…I… I have a lot of issues… many I don’t really like talking about. Not even with my sister and she’s the person I’m most open to. I… I’ll teach you how to calm someone suffering from a panic attack and how to help them though. I just… really don’t like talking about my triggers.” I offered a compromise.

“I’ll take it! I want to know how to help if that happens again!” Arlo looked a bit happy.

“So first please sit down, your pacing is making me a bit dizzy, I get it’s a stim but like.. please.” I asked.

“Stim?”Arlo asked as he sat down.

“Do you know nothing about mental illnesses and like mental conditions?” I chuckled as I asked.

“Not really.” Arlo was honest, “Stop laughing at me, Arlo was about to playfully punch me but I jerked my body away so it didn’t land, “…I’m not going to hurt you… are you okay?”

“Like I said I have my own shit… and problems… but a stem is something people with anxiety, ADHD, ODC, autism, and more conditions do to simulate their mind. Hence the name ‘stim.’” I explained. “Those are mental conditions, anxiety is really common, and then the others are not as common, but still common. I suck at explaining shit sorry…”

“No, I understand what you’re saying.”

“So basically people who have any type of mental condition are called neurodivergent. I fall into that category; I like to pace too but like I’m already not feeling my best so it’s not really helping me right now. People who don’t have neurological conditions that make them behave or think differently are called neurotypical.”

“So like people with a stable mental health?” Arlo asked.

“No, people can have ADHD, or anything else and have a stable mental health, the difference is that neurotypical people don’t have mental conditions that cause them to act or behave differently.” I answered.

“Got it! Now… how does this-”

“I’m making the walls before I build the roof. It’s still important to know these things, think of it as: addition and subtraction, without knowing either of those you can’t multiply or divide.”

“That makes sense.”

“Now, people who have panic attacks are typically neurodivergent and are triggered. When it comes to a situational trigger it’s important to ask them if they need to get away and out of the situation and then ask yes or no questions if they’re fine with touch so you can comfort them with that or need words because of it. You follow the same steps with an overstimulation trigger. This is because it’s typically caused by the environment the person is in. Memory triggers, spiral triggers, and nightmare triggers are much more difficult. Typically all triggered panic attacks end up with the person spiraling, the person gets sucked into their thoughts. You ask if they’d rather go to a different place, if yes you ask if they can tell, write, or point where. Like how it helped me to be inside. Then, a good grounding technique is called the 5-4-3-2-1 technique, you ask the person to say 5 things they can see, 4 things they can feel, 3 things they can hear, 2 things they can smell, and one thing they can taste. This works because it makes the person look around and observe their surroundings, dragging them out of their thoughts. The 5-4-3-2-1 technique can be used to help anyone in a panic attack no matter what caused it.” I explained, “People who have a history of panic attacks know these techniques to help ground themselves but it often helps to have someone helping. Which is how I managed to ground myself… well I was thinking of how I could tell you what was going on and how I could help you help me. Making me think about my surroundings, not my spiraling negative thoughts.”

“Wow… I never thought something like that could be… so complex…” Arlo sighed. “Thanks, for explaining this to me.”

“You're welcome.” I hadn’t realized I was sitting so weird -cause I do not possess the ability to sit properly- that the scars on my thighs were visible.

It was quiet between us for a bit. I don’t know why, why was Arlo being quiet?