#epileptic!john

I could have SWORE I wrote about this before but I can’t find anything...

Well anyways...

Once John’s seizure goes past the 5 minute mark, everyone starts to look at each other nervously. This has never happened before. They know what they’re supposed to do, but everyone is a little bit shocked.

What if they took the time wrong? What if they call the ambulance and he stops right when they do?

It feels like they’ve been looking at each other for hours but it’s only been a few seconds. Roger is the one to snap everyone out of their panic. 

“I’ll call 999. Keep watching him.” Roger runs off to make the phone call. Brian and Freddie watch him, going paler as John shows no signs of stopping. 

There’s nothing they can do but watch and wait. When they hear the sirens, Freddie nearly faints and Brian and Roger run outside to lead the paramedics to John.

It’s terrifying watching John seize for over 10 minutes now. There’s foam all over his mouth and his face is a terrifying shade of blue. They’re so thankful John isn’t conscious to feel this, but having to witness it is making them go mad. 

When the paramedics rush in, they’re relieved that they’re not in charge anymore. One of the paramedics asks how long he’s been down while the other does a quick work up of John before injecting with something in his thigh. The boys sigh and hug each other when John’s seizing slows down and eventually stops. 

The paramedics load John into the ambulance, Roger riding with him since he does the best under pressure. Brian drives himself and Freddie, tailgating the ambulance. 

Once in A&E, John’s whisked away to the neurology ward where he undergoes a bunch of brain scans and the like to see if something is wrong and to check for brain damage. 

The boys are left waiting again. Freddie calls John’s mum in the meantime to keep her updated. 

They wait for hours with no updates. They’re worried something went wrong. Maybe John’s in an OR with his skull cracked open. Maybe he’s seizing again. 

It’s almost sunrise when they get any news. They were huddle up together, dozing off on each other’s shoulders when a doctor says they can visit if they want.

They speed walk to John’s room, having been yelled at a nurse to stop running.

John’s in a hospital bed, pale and tired. He smiles weakly at them. 

Freddie’s at his side, blubbering away. Roger’s at his other side, checking his forehead as if that was necessary. A Brian’s by his feet, squeezing his ankles reassuringly. 

John tells them, in a very slow and scattered way, that everything is fine. It was a fluke. His brain scans are all normal. He’s going to be out for the count for a bit as his brain recovers from such a long seizure, but he’ll be back to normal in a week or so. 

The boys are SO relieved to hear that. His brain is a little fried, but he’ll be just fine in some days. They’re hugging and kissing him before Freddie runs off to buy him flowers and a teddy bear. Roger orders him some decent food. Brian has the tv on, flicking through the channels, trying to find something John would like.

And John’s asleep, utterly exhausted. 

We could only hope that John would feel his seizure coming beforehand so he and the boys could go somewhere private. Even if it’s their norm, it’s still embarrassing to seize in public. Despite how nonchalant the boys are, John would inevitably be seen as a spectacle which is very dehumanizing. 

John might get an aura in his vision or his joints would start to ache and he’d know that it was time to call the interview off. He’d tap Brian’s shoulder and give him a desperate look. The two would run off, letting Freddie and Roger close the interview while Brian and John found somewhere safe for John to have his episode. 

Rog and Fred rush off to find the others and help Brian take care of John. Brian’s timing the seizure while Freddie and Roger keep clearing the area around John so he doesn’t bump his head or limbs against anything. 

Once John’s done, they give him a few minutes to wake up before whisking him away to his house to recover. John can’t continue the interview post-seizure because he’s usually sleepy, confused and groggy for a few hours. 

They do come back another day to finish though! And John doesn’t mind explaining what happened. He has epilepsy, a common neurological disorder. He felt a seizure coming on and wanted to go somewhere safe and private to have his episode. And afterwards, he needs a day or two to recover, so he couldn’t come back right afterwards. 

I am DYING thinking about them go karting.

John is grumpy as hell, driving the dinky little thing around because it doesn’t compare at all to his mini coop (which is dusty by this point) and Roger’s like

“Don’t frown, Deacy! This is better than actual driving!!”

and John’s like, “Is it really? This only goes 15 miles per hour.”

and Roger is like, “It is! Cuz you can do this!” he then rams his kart into John’s

Cue one of the workers being like, hey, please don’t do that. You can’t do that.

The four of them speed off to somewhere else on the track and just start ramming into each other. They’re giggling and blocking the track for one another and t-boning and getting into fender benders. Until they’re caught again and get kicked out.

“We can do bumper karts next...” Freddie says.

“I’d rather have a seizure,” John says.

“That’d be pretty funny. You seizing in a bumper kart. Imagine the children watching,” Roger says.

The boys forget that John just sleeps after his seizures.

They lug him to his house, put on a movie and he's just. Asleep on the couch. The three of them are like... Well we are already here... So

They have a disney movie marathon in John's flat while John is absolutely unconscious! They say, oh we're only doing this to make sure John's okay. Not cuz this is fun or anything.

At hour 4, John wakes up all confused like, why are you all here? Why is Cinderella playing?

Roger's like, It's none of your business. Go back to sleep.

John can't fight that logic and is out the rest of the night. The boys fall asleep on the floor in front of the TV. The following morning is real fun. Everyone is sore and whining and John's making them all breakfast for some reason.

They all bid each other a goodbye, bleary eyed, shuffling out of John's flat. Freddie has coffee in a mug and John's like, hey, you can't take that, that's mine. Freddie just mumbled something and keeps going.

John is left alone and still has no idea what the hell happened. All he knows is that none of them REWINDED THE VCR TAPES.

Two things

One, Autism and Epilepsy have such a high comorbidity, I wonder why I never thought of this first!!!

and Two, During seizures, people are completely and totally unconscious. I’d just like to make that clear before hand.

♚

John let out a quiet whine, rubbing his face with his hands, trying to focus on the sensation and pressure. He’d been feeling weird all day and couldn’t put a finger on it. He was never good at figuring out what was wrong with himself. Always having to flounder about until it became obvious or went away.

He hoped it’d go away. The band was trying to write some songs and he kept having to walk away to get out all these confused feelings or go hide. He had just come back from stuffing himself into the storage closet but felt like he needed to go back already.

He shivered when a hand touched his shoulder.

“You alright, mate? You can go home if you want. We’re not getting much done anyways..” Brian said, his smile fading as he looked over at Roger and Freddie who were throwing grapes into each other’s mouths and giggling like kids. 

John shrugged. Going home sounded nice. He didn’t want to leave, though, even if everyone was just goofing off. He shook his head, mumbling, “I’ll be fine, Bri,”

Brian gave his shoulder a pat before getting up to join in on this grape fiasco. He might as well join them.

John got up too, intent on going to the closet again. It was nice and dark in there and smelled like bleach, the few powerful smells he didn’t mind. He took a few steps before the room got fuzzy, bright lights popping into his vision, swimming all around him. 

John finally understood why he felt odd all day. He was seconds away from a seizure. That familiar pre-seizure aura was a glaring sign of it. 

Knowing one was about to have a seizure never really helped things, not for John. It just made those few moments before losing consciousness nerve wracking. And a nervous John is a flighty John. 

Panicked, he ran, crashing into Brian, yelling out, “Help! Help!”

And then as usual, everything went black.

♚

“He’s waking up! There you go, John. There you go. Open your eyes for me, Deacy. You’re fine. You’re safe,” a voice cooed. 

John squinted, the room terribly bright, his body aching. He just wanted to go back to sleep. The voices around him wouldn’t let him, jostling him or patting his cheek.

“C’mon, Deacy. You got this. Wake up for us. You’re all fine,” another voice said. John grumbled, mumbling something intelligible. He rubbed his eyes, weakly batting away all the hands around him.

“The faster you wake up, the faster you can get back to sleep,” someone said bluntly. Roger. The word popped into his head and it made sense even if he didn’t know what it meant.

Somebody slowly sat him up, an arm wound tightly around him, keeping him from falling back. The room around him came into more clarity, some of the fuzz sharpening.

“Seizure?” John asked, looking at the faces surrounding him. All 3 of them nodded.

“Wasn’t a bad one. A minute, I think. You’re doing fantastic, love!” Freddie said, smoothing John’s mussed hair. John nodded, still out of it. 

“You poor thing. Nearly gave me a fright when you ran into me, screaming for help. Thought you saw a burglar or something!” Brian said, still holding steadfast onto a wobbly John. He couldn’t say he was relieved when the threat John was shrieking about wasn’t a robber but a seizure instead. Having someone faint and start to seize in your arms wasn’t exactly a fun thing. John made it out safely, so he couldn’t complain. 

“Oh...”John whispered. He never liked the post-seizure feeling. The confusion was unbearable, the fatigue hard to manage. He clung to Brian’s side, burying his face into his neck. John really wanted some comfort right now. And for someone to take over doing all the thinking. If he had to make a decision for himself right now, he’d probably start seizing again. 

Brian chuckled, wrapping John in a hug, who was practically in his lap now.

“I think he’s fine, guys. Just needs a cuddle. Let’s take him home, yeah?” Brian asked, rubbing John’s back.

On the car ride home, John refused to let go of Brian. Even when he fell asleep. His brain was so muddled but Brian was so warm and made him feel safe. 

Once home, Roger and Freddie tried to pry John off of the guitarist but Brian waved them off.

“Oh, don’t fuss, you two. I guess me and John are having a sleep over tonight,” he said as John dragged him to his room. Brian didn’t mind.

But it didn’t mean Brian couldn’t have fun with this.

John woke up at midnight, slapping Brian’s chest.

“Brian? What are you doing in my bed?” he asked, his wits finally returned to him.

Brian woke with a start but grinned. “We had a wild night, John. Too much to drink. Made some bad choices. But I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” he said with a wink. 

John huffed, knowing that wasn’t the answer but too sleepy to pry further. He rolled over in bed, facing away from Brian and went back to sleep. Brian snickered, trying to cuddle back up to John as the big spoon, getting kicked in the shins by a very unwilling bassist. 

This is so sad :( From what I’ve read, photosensitivity isn’t a super common trigger but it’s also a very finicky trigger. Some things can set it off while others can’t. etc etc. Anyways here we go.

♚

John remembered going to soundcheck the night before and admiring the electric output this venue had. In most places, they tried to save as much power as they could for the important things. The lighting. The instruments. The mics. The last thing they needed was for them to blow a fuse trying to put on too many things as once.

Not here. This place seemed to have endless output. The lights on Roger’s drum riser shone bright, flickering faster. The colored lights from above spun more chaotically, intensely. He was excited to see how it’d look the next day, at night in front of thousands. He didn’t have a single worry in his head, his epilepsy not even occurring to him. His medications were finally balanced. He’d never been photosensitive. Why even think about something that’s never happened?

 John’s a worrier though. And he wished he had been a bit more inquisitive as he snooped around the breaker and wires that previous night. A bit anxious over the power they had. Had a tiny morsel of forethought. It was far too late for any of that though.

He was on stage and Flash! had just started. The lights above started to pulsate with the drums, the riser itself flickering at a nauseating speed. They weren’t even a full 20 seconds into the song and John knew it was game over. A familiar feeling starting creeping into him. The fuzzy aura of obscured vision and the painful sensation of his fingers breaking. He knew he’d be on the floor in a matter of moments. He could only hope somebody would notice and stop the show.

His head began to throb, vision swimming as he set his bass down. And then John went down.

♚

“Flash! Ah- Oh my god!” was the last thing the audience heard before chaos broke out on stage. Freddie was the first to notice, singing and gyrating the closest to the bassist. He didn’t even think twice about dropping his microphone to kneel besides John.

Brian was second, his guitar stopping with a ear splitting screech. He was happy in those moments his legs were so long. He ran across the stage in a heartbeat, helping Freddie clear the area around John. Shoving wires aside, moving a mic stand away from John’s head, nudging the edge of an amp away. 

Roger tumbled off his riser, knowing exactly what happened. As fans gasped and screamed, he ran to the side of the stage, barking out the orders to cut the lights, cut the mics, cut everything!

Throughout the panic, John just laid on the floor, thrashing, gargling and wheezing. His eyes rolled back, limbs vibrating. His face contorted, gasping every so often. His head rolled, trunk slamming up and down against the unforgiving floor. 

It was always hard to watch.

At least the lights went off, giving John some privacy. 

Roadies and stage hands came out with flash lights, keeping them low enough so the crowd couldn’t see what was happening. They talked in hushed whispers, even though the fans were loud enough to drown out a jet engine.

“What the fuck’s happening?”

“He’s having a seizure.”

“Let’s call an ambulance.”

“No no. Let’s wait. 5 minutes right?”

“Nobody had the time when he started. I have no idea how long he’s been like this.”

“Can we just wait? Please? He’ll come around…”

“I’m calling the ambulance, fuck this.”

“Aren’t you supposed to put something in his mouth?”

“NO!”

Although the band considered themselves experts in dealing with seizures, they never experienced one on stage. They were frazzled, filled with adrenaline, confused. Nobody had a clue how long John had been seizing or what they could do to safely move him off the stage. Everyone was screaming at each other and nothing was getting done. 

Luckily, someone found the brain to call 999. John was probably fine, but his lips were blue and he couldn’t stop frothing at the mouth. So, it was good to have some actual medical help. Just in case.

They waited in tense silence for either John to stop or a paramedic to rush in, all while the fans were being escorted out of the venue. They knew video and photos had been taken of this but there didn’t need to be any more. For John’s sake. He’d die if a photo of him ended up on the papers.

They all sighed when John finally slowed, his movements becoming less jerky, less strenuous. Until he stopped all together, laying limp on the floor.

They all nearly collapsed when the paramedics arrived just then. Leaving it to a professional felt so much safer.

♚

When John woke up in the hospital, he was tired, sore and ready to go back to sleep. He didn’t question the sudden change of location. He was still confused and only craved some serious slumber. He could figure it out later.

“Oh! He’s awake! Deacy, darling!” Freddie called out, patting John’s cheek in an attempt to keep his eyes open. John whined, swatting weakly at Freddie. 

“Look everyone! He’s awake!” Freddie said, not letting John’s complaining stop him. Two other faces filled his vision. 

John groaned, his brain struggling to piece together what was happening. 

“Jesus, mate, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Roger said, ruffling John’s hair. John swatted at him too.

“Yeah. You never reacted like that to lights before. What the hell was that?” Brian added, squeezing John’s shoulder.

While still a bit frazzled, John was able to figure out he had a seizure. And then he had a sudden realization he was in the middle of a concert when it happened.

“Oh my god. I seized? On stage?” he asked, his vision clearing.

The three went meek, nodding slowly. John could only begin to think about the implications that had.  He had a million questions, a billion concerns, but for some reason, the only thing that came out of his mouth was:

“Did it look cool?”

Freddie started to lightly slap at John’s chest, holding back a screech. “You almost killed us and that’s your only worry!!! We’re in a bloody hospital room!”

Brian snorted, burying his face into his hands. Of course John would ask that. 

“You did! All eyes were on you!” Roger said, chuckling hard. 

Despite being almost beaten by Freddie, John was given the all clear to go home just a few hours after his arrival to the hospital. It was a run of the mill tonic-clonic seizure. Nothing to worry about. Just avoid a certain type of flashing light and he’d be good.

He was escorted home by the boys, who went over everything that happened during the car ride, wondering if it really was the lights, how they could fix it next time around, how they were going to refund the tickets and so on. Meanwhile, John napped on Roger’s shoulder, drooling a little bit. He knew the next few days would be hell with tabloids and management. He wanted to sneak in as much peace as he could before the storm. 

Sleepily, John mumbled, “Don’t you guys think it’s funny I had a seizure during Flash,”

“Go the fuck to sleep,” Brian said, absolutely not having anymore of this funny post seizure John. 

All the two of them can do is take their medications, go to neurologist appointments and look out for each other.

What’s fantastic about dating another epileptic is that they know. They know what to do when you say you feel a seizure coming on. They know what to do when you’re seizing. They know what to do after a seizure. 

When either of them know a seizure is going to happen and they’re around each other, they feel so safe. Nothing is scarier than seizing in public around strangers. They try to shove things in your mouth and hold you down. But when John and Roger are there for each other, they only have to worry about waking up. 

The also know each other’s triggers. John is sensitive to fatigue and stress. Roger knows when John is rubbing his temples, sighing, pacing, etc, it’s time he takes a break from whatever he is doing. Roger is sensitive to certain flashing lights and alcohol. John sometimes will watch a movie beforehand to catch any light triggers before going with Roger. Seizing in a movie theater is not fun. 

The best thing is waking up though. It’s easier to be roused by someone you know. And there’s a less chance you’ll be scared. In that confused state, very few things make sense but a familiar voice and face is just what both of them need to not panic. 

John always takes a while to wake up though. Roger and him have a system. John has the sign the word water so Roger knows he’s awake and his brain is okay. Then Roger can let him sleep, which John does every time. 

Roger is easier to wake up but John still gives him very basic quizzes to make sure he’s actually awake before he can get up to go sleep in bed. 

“Who’s the queen?” 

“We are?” 

“Oh my god, I should’ve saw that one coming”

“Lads, I feel a holiday coming on,” he said as he entered the room, hands on his hips.

Brian and Roger looked up from their books while John set down his screwdriver. Roger broke the toaster. Again.

“Holiday?” Roger said, eyes sparkling. Any chance to be anywhere but his flat was a good opportunity, if you asked him.

“Yes!” Freddie clapped, grinning. “A holiday! I found this lovely little place. Robin Hoods Bay. It’s so quaint and has so many things to do without, uh, a lot of money needed,” he finished, flicking his fingers for flourish. 

Brian frowned. He was thinking of all the planning he’d inevitably have to do because god forbid Roger and Freddie not be in the moment. And not to mention a fishing town didn’t sound too fun. He opened his mouth to say something but Freddie cut him off.

“There’ll be horses there,” Freddie said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Brian set his book down, getting up. “Well, I’m sold. I’ll start packing.”

Freddie cackled, setting his attention to John, who was oddly still and quiet. He said that sometimes if he just didn’t move or say anything, people would forget he was there. Not Freddie.

“And you, my love? Has my presentation sold you yet or shall I keep going?” he said.

John sighed when Freddie in fact, saw him. He slumped in his chair with a shrug. “Dunno. Sounds nice ‘n all but I don’t know if I’m um, in the mood to travel...’n all...”

John was a bad liar and everyone knew it. He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck, hoping this one time it wasn’t so obvious. When Freddie sat down in the chair next to him, face etched with worry, he once again knew he was caught.

“What’s wrong, Deacy? You afraid of the budget? I assure you this is no five star establishment. We can have fun while not going into debt, you know!” he said, a hand patting John’s knee. 

John gave him a small forced smile, shaking his head. While, of course, he was concerned about the money, that wasn’t his reason for wanting to stay. He started to wring his hands, biting on his lip.

None of them could really understand the struggles John went through. Sure, Brian was a nerd, Freddie a refugee and Roger a...car fanatic...? But none of them were freaks. Not like he was. 

The fear John could produce in a matter of seconds was astounding. The moment he dropped with a seizure, hell always broke loose. Screams and cries and running and flailing. All because of him. And people never take too kindly to being frightened. Upon waking up, he got scorn, anger, debridement instead of comfort.

Do the boys know anything about waking up to the sound of someone saying you haven demons in you? That you’re a blight to God? No. No, they did not. 

So, through the years, John had made a world for himself. A very small range in which he was comfortable venturing in to. A select few places where he knew he’d be safe if he seized.

It was isolating. It was tedious. But it was safe.

And this Robin Hoods Bay was not any of the above. 

He trusted the other 3 to take care of him, but they weren’t his baby sitters. One of them would run off somewhere, leaving him alone around people who didn’t understand. And if he felt a seizure coming on, he’d have no idea what to do. Neither would the people around him.

The thought made his heart lurch, hugging himself as he shook his head. No. No. He’d stay home. 

Freddie frowned, seeing the mental conflict written all over John’s face. He whispered light enough for neither Roger or Brian to hear. “John, what’s really the matter?” Perceptive as always.

John looked around the room, seeing how both Roger and Brian were fiddling with things, pretending to not listen. He flushed and whispered back to Freddie, “Follow me.”

Once in the stairwell, John crouched down, hugging his knees to his chest. When he spoke, his voice echoed. “I don’t like going to new places,” he said, eyes on the ground.

Freddie, who stood in front of him, stooped down to his level, head tilting. “You don’t?” he asked, his tone soft.

John shook his head in the negative. “No,” he mouthed, his disposition growing miserable. Freddie stayed quiet, knowing an explanation would come once John gathered his thoughts. John spun his ring around his finger until the words came to him, until he got the courage to tell the other why.

“I just- uh- like...Ugh. It’s my seizures, Fred. It’s like I’m on house arrest. I hate going to place because I have no idea what’s going to happen. If I seize, will I wake up to someone’s wallet shoved down my throat? To some catholic spraying holy water on me? To a gawking crowd? What if I bust my head open? And what if,” John’s voice cracked, “I wake up all alone?”

He felt so vulnerable saying all of that out loud. John wrapped his arms around himself tighter, avoiding Freddie’s tender stare. Right now, he just wanted to go home. 

“I get so scared ‘cus I don’t know. I can’t trust anyone. And most people can’t trust me. I feel like a freak. S-So, I can’t go to the bay with you guys. I, um, can’t. I can’t,” he said, clearing his throat to keep any tears from shedding. 

The untold story of epilepsy was how ostracizing it was. Nobody wanted to hang around someone who could seize at any minute. And as an epileptic, you couldn’t have faith in the strangers around you to have your best interest in mind. So you stay home. And you’re always home. It’s the only place you won’t be judged.

Freddie took in a deep breath, nodding. It took some time for John’s words to process, shattering his heart all the while. All he could say at first was, “Deacy, I’m so sorry,” as he reached out to squeeze his shoulder.

John shrugged him off, saying, “It’s fine. I didn’t expect you to think of this. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Freddie’s mouth popped open, nearly screeching, “John! I’m your best friend! There is absolutely something I can do about this. The 3 of us, actually. Whatever you need.”

John felt an uncomfortable rolling in his stomach, his chest going tight. He hated going out the most. But in second place was undivided attention like this. It felt too much. Like he’d choke under Freddie’s loving gaze. He stood up, brushing off his jeans. 

“I..need to go home,” he said, before dashing down the stairs. 

There was nothing anyone could do without having to act like an aide for him. They could party it up at the bay for all he cared. He was going home. And staying there.

♚

Freddie closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he stretched out his arms, taking in the smell of the bay. “Everyone thank me for picking out such a nice place,” he said, chuckling, looking back at the others.

“It’s a lovely place, mate. Already saw a few horses,” Brian said, more interested in looking in the direction of the stables than the ocean.

“The prices on the pub we just passed were amazing! I’ll be there tonight if anyone needs me,” Roger said, thinking about all the cute birds that might be there later on.

“Well, I can certainly smell the horses,” John said, an little evil smirk on his face.

“Oh, hush you,” Freddie said, batting a hand at him before turning back to look at the rolling waves. “You all go off and do whatever you’d like. Mama is staying at the beach,” he said, starting to walk down the path that led to the beach, without so much as a goodbye. 

Immediately, Roger clung to John’s side, looking at him with big eyes. “Be my buddy first, okay? While Brian goes and tries to fuc- pet the horses, we can go to the fishing shop, yeah? They’ve got souvenirs there, I think,” he said, tugging at John’s arm. John let himself be tugged, trailing after Roger who didn’t let him go.

This was the system they devised. The buddy system. As long as John was always with one of the 3, he felt significantly more comfortable going around the little sea town, unafraid of what could happen during a seizure. The boys by that point were professionals and had John’s undying trust.

John was free to float between the three or even force one of them to accompany him wherever he wanted. It wasn’t babysitting. Just friends hanging out and looking out for each other. 

That’s how they sold the pitch to John anyways. It only took him a week to agree to it.

By day two, the system proved itself worthy. While taking a tour through the old church (his idea), John felt a familiar tingle in his head. With Brian right besides him, things went quite smoothly. Brian helped him down to the brick floor and kept everyone away during the seizure. When John woke up, all he saw was a mountain of brown curls and a smiling face. “You did fantastic, Deacy!” he heard.

And perhaps, seizing in a church wasn’t the greatest of looks, but John never felt so safe.