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Gillion Tidestrider, Champion of the Undersea, Hero of the Deep, a warrior for his goddess, Lunadeyis. Gillion Tidestrider, trained by the Elders, the Chosen one who will decide between land and sea. And Gillion Tidestrider, captain of the Riptide Pirates.
That’s Gillion Tidestrider. Strong, determined, brave.
But right now, he feels like none of those.
His claws dig into his skin, threatening to draw blood with even a little bit more pressure. He’s hunched over, curled in on himself and completely gone from the conversation. He shakes off tears he can feel pooling beneath his eyelids that are squeezed so shut it makes his head hurt.
Everything is loud, itchy, swirly – it’s difficult to think , having coherent thoughts is like trudging through mud while it’s raining.
Gryffon’s scratchy voice, Queen’s singing, Earl’s constant yelling and laughter, it all hurts his head. Every little sound makes him flinch and has him hold back tears just a little bit more than before.
Realistically, Gillion has dealt with this before – he’s experienced this during training, and he got through it without any problems, but now? Everything seemed so daunting and he wished he could be back in one of Edyn’s hugs, her strong grasp on him keeping him safe from everything he was afraid of. It was unfamiliar here, and that scared him.
He didn’t even realize how curled in on himself he was thinking about that until the deck quieted down. Eyes pricked at him, ogling, making his skin tingle.
The air was tense, and the triton had to stop himself from running away to the lower deck at that very moment. After all, he had an example to set. What would his crew think of him if he couldn’t keep it together on a normal day of sailing? Plus, he didn’t even have any real reason to be feeling this way.
“Gillion- Hey, Gill.” He recognized Chip's voice somewhere deep in his mind, and the sound of snapping fingers appeared right next to his fin-ear, making him jump back and let out a pathetic whine.
He hugged his knees tighter, not paying attention to the whispers dancing around him.
“Gill.” A gentle tone coming from Jay, in the kind of voice she uses whenever comforting another crewmate.
Gillion doesn’t know how to respond, he opens his mouth to say something – something about how he’s okay and that he needs to go do something – but his vocal chords don’t seem to work.
So he sniffles, and his tail twitches uncomfortably with all the attention on him.
“Do you want me and Chip to help you down to the lower deck?”
He nods, peeking an eye out from his arms to see Jay with her soft, soft face, and she nods back at him.
A hand brushes against his as he hesitantly stands up, an offering. It feels like needles against his skin, but he takes it. The feeling anchored him from the horrendously textured planks that scratch against his feet and scrape his delicate tail that drags against the floor.
His eyes are closed, but he trusts Jay to guide him.
Hesitant steps, loud creaks, and a gentle but firm hand brings him to the lower deck. It already feels better, lacking the sun beating down on him and less eyes tracing his insecurities.
“You can open your eyes again, it’s just us down here.” Her voice was still soft as she let go of his hand, and he looked to see Jay on her cot, patting the spot next to where she was sitting.
Gillion settled down next to her, the mattress giving in with the pressure. Chip joined in on the other side.
The room was quiet, a comforting kind of quiet. The kind that waits patiently and the kind that won’t bite if aggravated. He knows they’re waiting for him to be ready, a comforting gesture instead of rushing in like it’s just another problem to solve.
Shakily, he inhales, hugging his legs once again.
“Everything hurts.”
It was barely even a whisper, and Gillion would be surprised if his friends heard it.
The air stayed tense, almost a suffocating thickness that felt like slime against his gills. Absently, a hand reached for his. He pulled back, and they understood.
“Do you want us to stay with you?” It was Chip’s turn to speak now. “We can give you space if you need it – we just want to make sure you’re okay.”
He avoids eye contact, looking at the planks of wood instead. “No,” he clears his throat, which he instantly regrets after the pain spikes, “I will be fine now, I apologize.” His voice wavers and it’s not even a lie.
He can feel their eyes stabbing into his flesh, digging claws deeper and deeper into his soul, and he’s terrified.
“Are you sure? It’s not a bother to stay here – especially because you just had a panic attack aboveboard,” Jay consoles him, and Chip lets out a deep breath.
Gillion so, so desperately wants them to stay here; to comfort him like his sister used to; to tell him everything would be okay and that he’s enough as is. But what kind of Chosen One would that make him?
“You may leave,” He keeps his sentences short, afraid of what he might say if he doesn’t. His body, however, will betray him.
His hand goes for Jay’s and they intertwine fingers, a silent plea for help he’s too scared to admit. He knows Jay gives Chip that look when he can feel Chip’s hand move slightly closer, an invitation he takes without hesitation.
“Is touch okay?”
He nods.
A warm embrace pulls him to the back of the bed frame, and he basks in the heat that contrasts so drastically from his usual cold temperature.
Jay lies down next, right next to where he and Chip are. “Anything in particular that could help?”
She gives Gillion time to think, an answer not demanded of him. His chest is airy – too much so, and it feels like he can’t breathe despite that. He could float away like this, be lost to the wind that he can’t seem to catch in his lungs.
“Pressure,” Is all he says, throwing an arm over her and pulling her closer.
There’s a quiet understanding as Jay maneuvers herself to be laying slightly on top of him, her face right next to his. Chip moves from practically under him to be in a similar position Jay’s in.
It’s warm. The pressure grounds him, and he feels less prone to the lightweight air of the surface. Instead, he’s here with friends – family. It reminds him of how when he was little, he and his family would sleep in a pile as protection and just enjoy time with loved ones. That changed rather quickly though.
Gillion can feel himself slowly drifting, but he’s not alone this time. He lets himself fall, and his eyes close, around people he loves.