#cyanidecupcake

It was a bad one. The kind that left Stretch’s vision blurry and his world crowding around him too tightly, everything was too tight, too close, too loud...He couldn’t breathe. 

The worst part was that he didn’t even know what had set it off. He’d just been getting coffee. There were no loud noises, no creepy children, nobody shouting slurs or threats. Nothing. He was just fine one second, then all of a sudden, he was smacked upside the head with an anxiety attack so strong he nearly fell to his knees. 

The barista, Sarah, knew him by name. He’d been coming here for years now. They knew enough about each other that idle chatter was easy when he’d come in. What she didn’t know was that while he was okay with casual touches most of the time, anxiety attacks made everything too small and he couldn’t even teleport to get away. 

“Stretch? What’s wrong, honey?” she asked, crouching next to him. When had he sunk down to the ground? He couldn’t say, but here he was, sitting with his back to the counter and his knees drawn up to his chest. He clutched them tightly, his knuckles burning with the force of his grip.

“What can I do? Can I call someone for you?” She put a hand on his shoulder, a usually comforting gesture. 

Stretch barely managed to squeak out a scream as he scrambled away, summoning an attack. He heard several gasps around him, murmurs of people wondering to each other what they should do to help the girl.

Somehow, he was able to calm down enough to dismiss the attack. He closed his eyes tightly for a second and dug his phone out of his pocket. He tossed it to Sarah, choking out a faint “call edge” and hoping she would know what he meant. 

She did. She knew Edge, though not as well as she did Stretch. 

As she made the call, Stretch slid himself a short distance across the floor to a corner where he’d be out of the way. He still felt too cramped, but he couldn’t go anywhere. A monster freaking out like this out in public was just begging for trouble, and he didn’t have the HP to spare. All he could do was sit there and wait for his boyfriend to come get him. 

“He’s on his way,” Sarah said softly, holding his phone back out to him. When he didn’t move to take it, she set it gently on the floor beside him. “Do you want me to sit with you?”

He shook his head. He wanted to be alone, somewhere in a dark closet would be nice. Shut away from the rest of the world.

She nodded. “Okay. I’m going to get back to work then, okay?”

He didn’t respond to that. Some part of him, deep down inside, knew he was going to regret everything about this trip. He would feel embarrassed about having an anxiety attack in front of so many strangers. He’d feel bad for not thanking Sarah for trying to help.

But for now, all he could feel was the ever-growing need to get away. 

And then Edge showed up. 

The moment Stretch saw that handsome face, he scrambled to his feet and threw himself into Edge’s arms. Edge caught him easily, lifting him off the ground and into his hard embrace. 

“You’re okay, Stretch,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Stretch nodded against his shoulder but didn’t say anything. He just closed his eyes and let himself cry as Edge took him home. 

Once home, Edge sat him on the couch and wrapped him up in a soft, plush blanket before going to make some tea. When he came back with it, he sat next to Stretch and pulled him into a comforting embrace. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked. 

Stretch shrugged. “i don’t know.”

“You must be feeling a little better; you can speak now.”

He wasn’t wrong. Stretch’s vision was a bit clearer now, and he didn’t feel like the world itself was trying to swallow him. 

“Do you know what happened?”

“no.” Stretch sipped at his tea, wincing as it burnt his mouth. It was good; it felt real. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

He thought about that for a long moment. Edge was always there for him, always. He looked up to see Edge watching him with a grim expression. He didn’t look angry, but it wasn’t hard for Stretch’s insecurities to take it that way. He’d been called out of whatever he’d been doing just to help his boyfriend through yet another panic attack. What a waste of his time. 

He shook those thoughts away. Edge loved him. 

“just smile,” he said softly. “i really need to see you smile right now.”

And Edge did, his mouth curving into the soft smile he always wore when Stretch did something cute for him. It softened his entire face, made him seem so much more open and tolerant. 

“Anything for you,” he said, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Stretch’s forehead.