all in your head. [n alves]

synopsis: featuring a 'you came' N and a 'you called' hunter.

content warnings: anxiety/panic attacks

note: so sorry it took me so long to finish this five part series. hopefully you're not sick of it yet. that being said, this drabble is probably the saddest because i got so in my head about it. N is okay, i promise. they just need some hugs <3

N Alves can usually keep it together.

They're used to having to deal with stuff on their own, a skill they've had to develop being the middle child. Their older sibling was never home, their younger too busy captivating the attention of their parents to see what N was going through. Their parents barely seemed to remember they existed at some points, which forced them to mature at a much faster rate than any other child should have.

Usually. That's the keyword there.

Because N is getting anxious and they've barely even stepped out of their desk. They adore their apartment, but it gets lonely sometimes. Radar can only be a distraction for so long. The long stretches of silence, the white noise that filters in their ears as they absently hear life move on around them outside—it makes them sick to their stomach. For once, for once in their life, they want to be heard.

They grapple for their phone. They're suddenly nauseous. They can't go back to their apartment tonight. Normally, they'd request to stay at Blane's, but their partner is currently at an appointment and the thought of lingering outside Blane's door is almost as bad as staying alone at their place.

Without thinking, they pull up the next contact on their list.

[name !!], 5:07pm

did you leave iaos yet?

[alvessssssss], 5:09pm

just about. what's up?

N chews their lip. It'd be such a burden to drag you all the way back here. They hate being a bother to people. Is their anxiety enough reason to get you to come back? Maybe, no. Maybe they should leave you alone. They annoy you as much as it is. Surely you'll—

Their phone buzzes again.

[alvessssssss], 5:10pm

i'm barely a block away if you want me to come back

[alvessssssss], 5:14pm

N?

actually, do you want to meet for dinner?

They blink at their screen.

That's the thing about this. Time doesn't exist when they're having an anxiety attack. They'd stood there for five minutes zoning out, staring into space, numb to the vibration in their hand. They likely would have been there longer had you not double-texted. Triple.

They don't know what to do. They need to stop you before you waste your time coming here. And if you make it before that, they'll smile and shake their head, excusing themself by saying they were in a weird mood. They're not supposed to be a bother to anyone, after all.

But dinner. Dinner doesn't sound so bad.

Dinner. Dinner alone at their apartment. Dinner with Radar sitting beside them, with the TV on in the background and voices droning on about some shit they don't care about. Dinner—

"N?"

Fuck. They've done it again.

N's eyes adjust to the sudden light. You've flicked on the spare light that they'd turned off, wanting a dimmer atmosphere to work into the night. What time is it?

5:19.

Barely past the normal working hours. On nights when they didn't want to go home, they used to stay longer. The only reason they'd come back was for Radar. N always felt so guilty when their dog ran up to greet them, knowing they'd kept him waiting longer than usual.

"[name]?"

"Hey."

They still can't tell if you're real. "Hey."

"You didn't answer my text." You nod towards the phone in N's hand. "How long have you been standing there?"

N glances around. They must have tidied up their desk while lost in their head, because their laptop is shut off and their papers are back in their respective files. It's been a while since they've had it this bad. All those weeks of bottling things up have gotten to them.

They force themself to smile. "Not that long. Why did you come?"

The look you give them nearly sends them to their knees. It's accusatory but empathetic, confused and yet so solemn that they almost wince being on the other end of it.

"Sounded like you needed me," you whisper.

N doesn't bother denying it. "How could you tell?"

You take a step closer. Slowly, giving N enough time to pull away, you reach for their hands, folding over them with confidence as you tug them towards you.

"I know you, N. I know when you're feeling your best and when you're not." Your lips quirk into a sad smile. "You've been acting strange all day. I wanted to ask you about it, but I didn't want to push. You can talk to me. You know that, right?"

N ducks their head. Yes, you've always said that. They know. They know, they know.

But some voice in their head is telling them that isn't how this works. The middle child. They're supposed to be invisible. They're not supposed to have any problems. They're Blane's safety net, the person everyone goes to when they need help. They can't help anyone if they have issues themself.

But who is their lifeline? Who is their safety net? Who who who whowhowhowhowho—

"N."

Your voice brings them back to reality.

"Dinner's on me, okay?" you tell them. You must recognize what's happening, because your eyes soften. "If you want, we can talk about it after you've got some food in your stomach. Or I can tell you what chaos [A] got into today if that sounds better."

"Sure."

You smile and begin to lead the way out. N stares at your back for a moment, hesitating. For once, their head isn't telling them that you're leaving. For once, their head understands that you're waiting for them. It makes their heart start to slow to a normal pace again.

"[name]?" they blurt out.

You turn. "Yeah?"

N swallows. "Thanks for coming."

The look on your face is radiant.

"Of course."