Okay, so I actually decided to switch to another idea for the 'Ringing Ears' prompt because I can't figure out how I want to structure the dialogue for the first part of the Narin story and I thought of an angsty idea for Ingall, so, enjoy, lmao
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Silent SOS
Prompt; Ringing Ears
Word count; ~3000
Characters; Ingall, Nico, Akira, Revan, Garvin, and Amar.
TWs; Swearing, Mentions of past physical and sexual abuse, Mentions of past psychological torture, Anxiety/panic attack described, Stalking, Akira beating the shit outta someone (oops-), and probably more
Notes/Info; Just a silly little idea I had to torment Ingall, lmao
No idea where this would go in the timeline, other than it's probably a bit into the relationship because Ingall's panic attacks have become much less common and all. My best guess is after Homesick, maybe as far as after Price Of Love, but I'm not sure. Absolutely after Homesick though, I know that much, lol
Either way, great for everyone, I'm sure, totally not triggering for anyone at all, mhm, totally won't ruin a lot of the progress from Getting Comfortable, mhm-
Hopefully everyone was written well! The end is a bit messy, but oh well
Anyway, enjoy :)
---
Ingall glanced around the store nervously. He wasn't sure why he was so anxious, it had been months since he'd felt this way, perhaps even longer, and yet, he couldn't get rid of that itch in his brain. The paranoia fueled feeling of being watched, that he wasn't alone.
He sucked in a breath and shook his head. It was just his anxiety, there was nothing to worry about, not really. He just had to do some errands and then he could go home and decompress with his partners. Listen to Garvin and Akira rant about Star Trek, help Nico make dinner, or just sit in silence with Revan.
That thought helped and, blinking against the abnormally bright store lights, Ingall re-focused on the task at hand, checking off his list methodically as he grabbed each item.
Luckily, after finding his rhythm, the rest of the shopping didn't take too long, and, with a focused mind, Ingall could almost ignore the itching of his skin, the quiet buzzing of lights and fridges, the blinding lights, and the underlying feeling of fear. Almost.
And yet, when he stepped outside and began the walk back to his car, it all came crashing back. Heightened further when a familiar number flashed at the top of his phone screen, displaying the simple message:
'Don't run.'
He stopped, glaring at the phone screen for a moment in panicked disbelief before slowly, and shakily looking up. A few paces away, leaning casually against his car, stood Amar. He had the largest smile on his face, as though he'd just won the lottery, and his green eyes glowed with hungry pride.
Ingall's breathing sped up, but he forced himself to think. He was in broad daylight with other people around and a phone in his hand. Amar was cruel, he was calculated, but he was banking on the wrong thing. He was banking on an Ingall from years ago. An Ingall who would collapse under pressure and immediately give in when under threat. An Ingall who was alone.
And, for the first time ever, a thought crossed his mind that he'd never expected.
Amar was an idiot.
Forcing himself to move, Ingall turned and started walking away, back toward the store. He could practically feel Amar's confusion, and, even when another set of footsteps appeared behind him, he didn't stop. Even when a hand fell on his shoulder, nails digging through his shirt and into his skin, he kept going. There was one thing and only thing only that was more important to Amar than winning; his image.
He wanted to be known as a savvy business man, someone respectable. One wrong move and that shattered, which was more than fortunate for Ingall.
He quickened his pace and fought the feeling of bile stinging in the back of his throat, fought the need to collapse and start sobbing and begging for mercy. He was in control here, even if it felt like the exact opposite.
"Where are you going, darling?"
Amar's voice was smooth, put together, but Ingall could here the underlying rage. He was beyond pissed things weren't going his way.
He stayed silent and, moments later, was back in the very same store he had just walked out of, now with Amar firmly grasping his shoulder. A casheer looked up and frowned slightly at the bag Ingall held, but Amar grinned at her and waved. "Ah, sorry! We forgot something!"
The woman shrugged and Ingall b-lined to the bathroom, silently begging to any god that would listen that someone else was there.
Thank everything there was, and, without a moment of hesitation, Ingall reached up with his free hand and shoved Amar's hand off. Amar stared at him in utter disbelief, but, with other eyes around, could only stand there as Ingall locked himself in an empty stall and immediately collapsed against the toilet.
Without much thought, he lifted his phone, ignoring the string of threatening texts Amar was sending, and clicked on the contact of the first of his partners that showed up, Akira, hitting the call button.
Akira picked up quickly, but as their voice came through the phone, two things appeared in Ingall's mind.
The first was the fact that if he outright asked for help, Amar would hear, and there was a good chance that the idea of Ingall getting away would push him over the edge, even despite him being in public. It was too big of a risk.
The second thought was the fact that, with how little air Ingall was getting in his lungs and how choked up he suddenly felt, it was unlikely that he could ask for help anyway. Plus, his eyes were blurring and his entire body was shaking so badly he had barely managed to call in the first place, it wasn't as though he could text in this condition.
So he just sat. On the bathroom floor, gasping for air, shaking, crying, and glaring at the screen of his phone as Amar's name appeared and reappeared over, and over, and over again.
"Swan? Ya there? What's goin' on?"
'Get the fuck out here, you bastard!'
"Ingall?"
'I swear to god, I'll make your life a living hell if you don't come out right now!'
"Can ya speak?"
'I did not spend YEARS of MY fucking life hunting you down for you to just IGNORE me like this!'
"Right, where are ya? Can ya send a location at least?"
There was a loud knock on the stall door, letting Ingall know that whoever had been in the bathroom was gone now and Amar was about to become a much bigger problem. He let out a muffled cry and curled into himself more, clutching his phone tightly to his chest as he did so.
"Shit. Ingall, 'm on my way, 'kay? Jus' hold on."
"Ingall. Come on, love, there's no need to make this so difficult! Just come out now and I'll forget this ever happened, hm?"
Something else was said on the other side of the phone, and it sounded like multiple voices this time, but Ingall couldn't make out what they were saying anymore, eyes locked on the stall door as it shook with the force of another knock from Amar.
"You're being unreasonable, I just wanted to see you again! Is it so bad to want to meet with my boyfriend again?"
Another knock. Ingall flinched, choking out another sob.
"Stop being so pathetic! I just wanted to talk! You left me without warning, you know! You fucking left me, Ingall! And now you're acting like I'm the one who hurt you!"
But he did. He had!
He had, hadn't he?
A ringing picked up in Ingall's ears, drowning out whatever else Amar was saying on the other side of the door and leaving him in a panicked spiral of everything he'd tried to forget.
He remembered laying on the floor of Amar's room, blood running down the side of his face, pain infecting every ounce of his bare body. He was unable to talk, his voice stripped away. He was unable to hear anything other than Amar's taunting voice, reapeating over and over how useless, disgusting, and terrible Ingall was. Telling him how it was all his fault that his family died. He should have done better. He should have been better.
All while Amar stood in the corner and smiled, deriving pleasure from the suffering of the person he was supposed to love, finding amusment in how he was sobbing. Overjoyed in the fact that he had physically drained the room from all it's sound aside from his own voice, rendering Ingall useless to even attempt to beg.
For no reason other than he could.
He had hurt him.
He didn't want to go back. Please.
There was a crash, the sound of something hitting the floor or wall, and Ingall cried out, free hand reaching up to tug at his hair. An attempt to make it all go away.
He just wanted it to all go away.
---
Akira was laying on the couch with their head on Garvin's lap when their phone rang, interrupting whatever loophole in the Star Wars lore their boyfriend had been ranting about before.
They frowned, digging their phone out of their pocket, and their confusion only grew when Ingall's name popped up on screen. Angel wasn't one to call without sending a text first unless he was in the car, and that was usually because someone had texted him first and he couldn't answer while on the road.
Plus, if he needed to know something about shopping, Nico or Revan were much better options than them.
Still, they picked up, sitting as they did so.
"Ingall? 'Sup? Ya need somethin'?"
Garvin tilted his head at that and Revan, who was sitting on the other side of the room on his phone, looked up, eyes zeroing in on Akira. Even Nico, who had been getting ready to start dinned, peaked her head around the corner, curious at Ingall's name being mentioned.
Yet, silence loomed on the other end of the call and Akira's brow furrowed, a sinking feeling starting up in their stomache. Sure, it was possible that Ingall had called on accident, but not responding when Akira spoke? He was far too hyper-vigilant not to notice they were speaking, especially when out of the house.
"Swan? Ya there? What's goin' on?"
The others faces turned more concerned and Akira began scanning the room for their keys, still trying to gain Ingall's attention. If this was a panic attack there was a chance he was out of it and just needed help grounding, so talking was probably a good idea.
"Ingall? Can ya speak?"
More silence. Akira was on their feet at this point, grabbing their keys from the TV stand. Garvin had stood as well, following them across the room, and Nico had inched his way over while Revan tracked them with his eyes.
"Right, where are ya? Can ya send a location at least?"
There was a muted knocking sound on the other side of the phone, followed by a cry from Ingall and Akira's blood ran cold. This may be a much worse situation than they thought. They cursed quietly, and Revan spoke up, now standing as well.
"He was going to the grocery store. The one ten minutes from here."
"Shit. Ingall, 'm on my way, 'kay? Jus' hold on."
Akira nodded thankfully and started toward the door, unwilling to waist another second. Garvin was still close behind and they heard Nico say something to Revan before hurrying over as well, holding out his hand.
"Let me."
Akira handed the keys over. It was probably a better idea to let Nico drive anyway, that way they could focus on Ingall.
Their was another voice on the line, muffled but angry, demanding. Anger rose in Akira's veins and they slammed their car door shut, looking over at Nico the second everyone was seated.
"Go. As fast as ya can."
Nico's eyes widened, but he nodded and, stepped on the gas.
A ten minute trip was cut down to a four minute one and Akira jumped out of the car before it was even fully in park, once again closely followed by Garvin and then, a little more slowly, by Nico.
The store doors were shoved open and Akira was practically shouting at a very surprised cashier, only to quickly be pointed toward the bathroom.
Everything after that was a blur. They tossed their phone carelessly onto a sink and, after noting a closed stall door and a man standing far too close to it, attacked without thinking.
A few moments later (or maybe it had even been a couple of minutes, they weren't sure), blood already staining their hands, they were pulled off the man, who scrambled away, eyes wide and tearful, nursing what looked like a broken nose and an already swelling wrist and jaw, and held back.
"'Quila! Fuckin' hold on a sec!"
They paused only momentarily, glaring at the man as he pressed himself against a wall, eyes flickering between them and Nico, who was now knelt in front of the stall, talking softly through it.
"Much harder ta get ya outta a murder charge is all, jus'... hol' on."
They glanced up at Garvin, taking quick note of how he was already starting to dissociate, and clenched their fists. He was right, and this situation wasn't looking good, best not make things even more stressful for everyone. No matter how much they wanted to beat the man to an inch of death and then leave him to rot.
"Right, yeah. Aight." They stood and carefully readjusted themself to take one of Garvin's hands from their shoulder and squeeze it slightly instead, hoping it may help a little at least. "Thanks, Claddagh."
Garvin nodded and the next few minutes were spent in tense, near-silence, with only Nico's quiet reassurance to Ingall filling the room. Akira held a mostly one-sided glaring contest with the man, and Garvin seemed to slip further and further while they could do nothing but hope the situation cleared up quickly.
At the very least, when the police showed up, there wasn't too much trouble. A quick search through the man's phone revealed a handful of incriminating information, including threatening texts, a folder full of pictures of Ingall taken at a distance throughout various periods of time, details about future plans, and a name. Amar Coldblood.
Every bit of it made Akira's blood boil, renewing their rage, but at the very least, the only arrest made was Amar's and the police worked quickly, leaving only a couple of EMTs who advised Akira and Garvin to wait outside while one of them attempted to help Nico coax Ingall out of the stall he was still locked in so they could check for any injuries.
It was twenty minutes before any of this worked and a very disheveled Ingall was cleared to leave, looking only half-aware as Nico helped lead him out of the bathroom.
"I can drive Gala home, Ira, are you alright to drive Vinny in the other car? I think space is the most helpful right now, I don't want to crowd everyone into one place."
Akira blinked. Of course, what Nico was saying made sense, knowing Ingall, this was certainly the best option, but it still felt wrong.
Nonetheless, they nodded.
"'Course."
Nico smiled weakly. "Okay. Be careful, we'll see you at home."
---
Ingall only really started processing what was going on when he was already back in the apartment, stumbling toward the guest bedroom and barely able to stand upright with how light headed he was.
Some part of his brain registered how his partners were probably upset, and how the way he flinched away when they tried to step in and help was probably getting increasingly painful for them, but he couldn't help it.
All he wanted to do was get into the shower and wash away everything that had happened, but he knew rationally that all he could manage was to crawl into bed and pray it went away on its own.
He was tired, and scared, and a complete wreck who was somehow so useless he couldn't even speak.
And, yet, when he crawled into bed, somehow everything felt worse. Too bright, too loud, to itchy, too much.
He squeezed his eyes shut and curled into a tight ball and just waited.
Waited for it all to stop.
---
The next time he opened his eyes, it was because of Revan entering the room, his presence announced with a quiet knock on the door.
He was wearing different clothes than the ones Ingall last remembered seeing him in, and his dark curls were still slightly damp from showering. He closed the door softly behind him, leaving the lights off except for the lamp on the nightstand that he carefully turned away from the bed. He stopped beside the bed and carefully extended a small stuffed rabbit. One that he'd gotten for Ingall a few months back, made from extra soft material that was pleasant to touch.
"It's clean, I promise. I washed it earlier." He voice was soft and even, easy to listen to, and Ingall slowly reached out from the cocoon of blankets he'd wrapped himself in to accept the gift. He wanted to say thanks, but found his voice still wasn't working. "I made tea as well, I'll leave it on the nightstand if you want it." He hesitated. "Would you like me to stay?"
Yes. Yes, he did. He didn't want to be alone. Not right now.
But his throat closed up even as he tried to push the word out and Ingall felt frustration start to build up, even as Revan waited patiently.
Finally, he simply gave up and forced his head into a nodding motion. Revan nodded in response, demeanor calm.
"Alright, do you want me to lay with you, or sit somewhere else?"
This time, he didn't bother trying to get his voice to cooperate, knowing it would be no good, and, instead, reached out from the blankets again and signed the motion for 'lay.'
Rev nodded again and carefully climbed into bed, keeping distance between them as he did so. Once he settled, his eyes examined Ingall's face carefully, gentle and calculated.
"I'm sorry this happened, Ingall. I want you to know you aren't alone, we're here to support you and whatever you need. I promise."
Ingall shifted, pulling the bunny close to his chest and fighting a pressure started up behind his eyes. He couldn't speak, and his hands were shaking, but as he looked at Revan across from him, he desperately hoped he got his message across.
'Thank you.'
Winter Month: 1 
Day 
