Shelter

When Alex woke up the next day, Jack was already awake, flipping through the channels on the little TV in Alex’s hospital room. Alex yawned, blinking to try and clear his vision. Jack looked over at him and smiled slightly. “Good afternoon, sleepy head.”

“Is it already afternoon?” Alex mumbled, rolling over slightly. The IV in his hand made it impossible to roll all the way over.

Jack nodded, “Yeah, it’s about four o’clock. It was noon last time the nurse woke you up.”

“I remember being half awake a few times, when they woke me up. I was so tired that I couldn’t even try to stay awake though,” Alex said. A nurse had come into the room every few hours to wake him up and make sure his concussion wasn’t affecting him badly.

“I noticed. You looked beyond tired,” Jack chuckled. “I’ve been up for hours now, trying to find something good to watch on this stupid TV.”

“You could have gone back to the bus,” Alex said, feeling bad about Jack staying all night long. He suddenly realized something and looked up at Jack in surprise. “Wait, I had no nightmares last night!”

“Maybe it’s because you were woken up so often and you were so tired. You went straight into a deep sleep,” Jack shrugged.

Alex nodded, “I guess so. I’m glad I didn’t have any nightmares. They’re so embarrassing.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed by them, Alex. They’re just nightmares,” Jack said, leaning against Alex’s bed and looking at him.

“But they’re terrible. Those nightmares and anxiety attacks are my weakest point, and I hate them,” Alex argued.

Jack shook his head. “No. Those things are what make you, you. That’s like saying you hate yourself.”

“Well I do.”

“Don’t say that, okay? You’re perfect and I don’t get why you don’t realize that,” Jack sighed.

“It’s hard, Jack. I’m sorry,” Alex admitted.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, alright? Loosen up a little,” Jack said, taking Alex’s hand and squeezing it gently.

“I’ll try.”

--------------------

Alex was sent home from the hospital that evening, so the bus got rolling for them to head to the next show on the tour. Later that night, everyone was gathered up front, just hanging around together. Alex was lying on Jack’s lap, having claimed the couch with the excuse of having a concussion and needing plenty of rest. The others couldn’t really argue with that, nor did they want to waste their time doing so.

“I can’t believe there’s only one week of tour left! It’s already almost September. This tour has flown by so quickly,” Rian said, and everyone else agreed with him. Alex frowned to himself. Was there really only one week left?

He had let another tour slip away from him entirely. His anxiety had pretty much ruined the tour for him yet again. Sure, he’d had fun with the fans and the shows and Jack, but he didn’t have as much fun with his friends as he should have. And he definitely didn’t feel like he accomplished anything this tour. Hell, if anything, he probably got worse.

Alex squirmed around on Jack’s lap until he got comfortable, his head resting on Jack’s stomach. He was quiet, listening to the others laughing around him. He was mad at himself and didn’t feel like joking with them. Jack finally noticed his silence and reached down to run a hand through Alex’s hair.

“What’s wrong, Alex?” Jack asked, looking concerned.

“Why do you assume something is wrong?”

Jack chuckled, “You’re burying your face into my stomach instead of laughing with the rest of us. Something must be bugging you.”

Alex sighed and sat up, scooting onto Jack’s lap so he could talk to his best friend more quietly. He glanced around to make sure the others weren’t focusing their attention on him, but everyone was caught up in their own conversations. “I’m sick of my anxiety and nightmares ruining my life,” Alex admitted.

Jack sighed and wrapped his arms around Alex loosely. “You need to quit acting like your anxiety limits you from doing things, because it doesn’t.”

“Yeah it does,” Alex protested.

“That’s because you let your anxiety limit you, Lex. The anxiety and nightmares alone – they’re not the only thing causing you to feel this way. It’s your own mind and emotions. You limit yourself because you’re afraid to step out of your comfort zone,” Jack said.

“You would be afraid to step out of your comfort zone too,” Alex mumbled.

Jack shrugged, “You never used to be. What’s different now?” Alex didn’t respond, letting Jack’s words sink in.

Jack had a point; Alex avoided so many things just because he didn’t want to trigger his anxiety and make it worse. Really, what he should be doing is facing his fears and learning to live with his anxiety. Or he could at least be brave enough to ask for help with it. Jack was right. His anxiety attacks and nightmares didn’t make him weak or useless – it made him different. And Alex didn’t mind being different.

Alex was ready – and determined – to turn his life around. He wanted to get back to where he was before his anxiety started. But he was going to need some help from Jack.