A/N:
Thanks to avengersxharrypotter who requested this one-shot! I hope it lives up to your expectations X
H 💗
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"Hey," Alan greets with a kiss to (Y/N)'s cheek as she enters through the front door of their London flat.
"Hey."
He can tell from the way that she greets back, hearing the unnerving tone of her voice, that something is not right.
Either he forgot an important date or she's had a bad day.
The vibe she gives off is as icy as the London winter she brought in with her.
"You alright, darling? You look awfully pale."
Alan's brows turn into a frown, studying her face as she unravels the scarf from her neck and plops it down on the sideboard along with her black handbag.
"Fine."
He places his keys and wallet that he is holding, on the back of the sofa, his one hand now on his hip and he turns around to look at his wife where she's settling herself on a barstool by the kitchen counter, her back turned to him.
With his eyes now reduced to slits as his suspicion rises, he stalks closer to her and leans his face down to her level.
"(Y/N)?"
She lifts her head. She can see the concern etched onto Alan's face. Her stomach tightens like she's about to be sick, acid burning up her throat.
"Are you okay?"
She screws her eyes shut and expells a sharp breath through her nose before opening her eyes again and looking at her laptop that sits open in front of her on the counter.
The pages she had been working on on the tube is blurring. The words merge together, scrambling into something illegible. Her heart feels like it is beating too fast.
Alan waits patiently for her answer, noting every small movement of hers - her clenched jaw, the muscle twitching in her neck, the rubbing of her pinky.
"I shared the tube with a man who was behaving a bit suspiciously..." She starts. "When I got off at our stop, he proceeded to follow me home."
She shrugs, looking sheepishly up at Alan.
"Did... anything happen?"
He leans with his elbows on the counter in front of her, peering over her laptop at her.
"...He just... cat-called me. Made advances. He touched my shoulder, that's it," she explains, her voice nearly warbling.
Why does it feel like she's about to burst into tears?
She doesn't want to tell Alan about the incident in fear that he might go out and look for the man. She knows how protective Alan can get.
Alan already made sure a bodyguard escorted her to and from the university about a year ago when a crazy fan had gotten hold of their address somehow and proceeded to stalk both her and Alan. She cannot go through that again. Although she knows it's just his way of making sure she stayed safe, she couldn't help but feel as if her independence was taken away. It felt like she was being walked to work like a child was being walked to school.
"Why don't you close this?" Alan offers sweetly, quietly shutting the laptop. "Take your mind off work for a second."
No.No.I must work.I have to work.
The lump in her throat swells, her chest getting tighter and tighter. She has to work. Work is the only thing that can take her mind off the incident. She doesn't have time to cry over it. She's never cried over anything so unnerving, why is she getting emotional now?
"I'm fine," she lies while opening the laptop again.
God, her voice sounds horribly weak. Alan definitely noticed it. She feels like she can't get enough air, like the thermostat is turned up all the way and the walls are closing in.
Stop thinking about it.Don't think about it.Focus on work.Don't look at Alan.
"Are you positively sure?" Alan stands upright, walking around the counter to stand next to her, his face showing genuine concern. "You're shaking, my dear."
He's gonna notice.Breathe.Don't give it away.
(Y/N) looks down. Her delicate hands are trembling, her knuckles white as she tightly clutches a fountain pen between her fingers.
I cannot tell Alan all of it.He cannot find out.Work.Must focus on work.
"(Y/N)," she jumps as Alan's voice comes from beside her.
She feels his warm hand press against her forehead, yet he feels so far away.
Oh, no.Shit.He's gonna find out.Keep.It.Together.
"Do you feel alright? You're sweating like a glassblower's arse. I'll make you some tea."
A pussy like yours sure does smell nice. Here, can I stick it in your hole? She can still feel the man's hand on her clothed mound before she had smacked him in the face with her bag and proceeded to run home.
She's not sure if she answered Alan's question. The world suddenly tilts on its side, and she can hear the clatter of the pen before she feels herself falling. She feels like she is sinking into drying cement, her muscles and lungs seizing.
God, (Y/N)...I'm pathetic.Just look at me.Can't stay of trouble, can I?
Alan's muttered swearing sounds miles away.
As quickly as the darkness conceals her vision, the spots clear and she blinks some of the blurriness away. She can see Alan's face, feel his strong arms around her and the cold kitchen floor beneath her stocking-clad legs. Her head is throbbing terribly, and her stomach is sloshing in nausea, the muscles in her neck tightening in a desperate attempt to not be sick.
"Easy, darling, easy," Alan encourages, rubbing her back soothingly. "Take some deep breaths for me. Come on."
I'm a let down.Look at me.Reduced to a puddle of panic on the floor.What's Alan gonna think of me this time?
"Can't," she rasps, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She feels like she is on fire, her nerves tingling all the way down to her toes. "I-I c-can't breathe."
'Course I can't breathe.I can't do anything right.BREATHE.If not, Alan's gonna notice how pathetic I am.
"Alright, it's alright," he says in his utterly calm tone of voice, moving his hand to the back of her neck in an attempt to soothe her.
(Y/N) leans into his chest, trying with all her might to find some semblance of peace within her, but everything is in turmoil.
Oh, no.Here we go.Now I'm breathing too fast.I can't do anything right.I can't even breathe the right way...
"Come on, darling," she can hear through her hyperventilating, his words hardly audible over the rushing of blood. "Breathe with me, everything will be alright."
Do as he says.Or else, he will find out.Alan can never know.
She sucks in a deep breath through her nose, focusing on the way Alan's chest moves with his own deep breaths that he wants her to replicate. The room still feels like it's spinning, like they are strapped on one of those spinning tornado rides at a theme park, spiralling out of control.
I can't do this.I can't.I cannot.It's all my fault.My fault.
A wrecked sob breaks through her chest, making her breath catch in her throat.
Alan squeezes her gently, another choked cry getting ripped out of her.
He shushes her, wiping away her hot tears with the back of his fingers.
"You're alright, my love. It's okay. I'm here, focus on me," he says calmly, lifting her chin so as to maintain eye contact with her.
Look at him.Such a wonderful man.Amazing husband.I don't deserve him.I'm putting him through hell having him deal with my constant panic attacks.
He can see the hurt and panic in her doe eyes, and he has to try very hard not to let tears form in his own.
"I'm not going anywhere, darling. I'm staying right here," his croaks, but remains calm for her.
The grounding helps as Alan continues to ask her to name five things she can see, four things she can touch, three things she can hear, two things she can smell, and one thing she can taste.
You.The spiderweb in the corner of the living room window.God, here you go again, (Y/N).BREATHE!His wallet and keys.IS HE GOING SOMEWHERE?! BREATHE!My pen.Oh, no, the ink!
"That's right. You're doing great
Keep focusing on me," Alan encourages sweetly, maintaining eye contact with her wavering gaze.
His arm.God, I love his arms.His face.My stockings.My stockings are ripped.No, no, no, no.These were my favourites.BREATHE!The kitchen floor.
(Y/N) clings to her husband, her pillar, like her life depends on it, fighting for every breath.
The kettle.His calm voice.HE'S NOT GONNA BE CALM WHEN HE FINDS OUT!Oh, God, no.Alan can't find out.BREATHE!One more.Cars.I can hear the cars outside.WHAT IF HE'S STILL OUTSIDE?!
"Darling, keep breathing," he gently holds her in place as her panic rises. "Don't stop. Don't stop. Two things you can smell, come on, you can do it."
Smell.Smell... Al.I can smell Al.Cardamom and cloves. My favourite smell.WHAT IF ALAN LEAVES AND I NEVER GET TO SMELL HIM AGAIN??BREATHE!Pine gel - the tile cleaner.
Alan doesn't even shift to give his knees a break, whispering gentle words of encouragement to her.
"Last one."
Something I can taste.What can I taste?Tears.I can taste my tears.It's done.You're done.Relax now.
(Y/N) draws his words in like a breath, her thoughts settling from stormy tidal waves to soft ripples the longer they stay on the floor, just focusing on slowing down her breathing.
Alan is the anchor that she so desperately needs, keeping her ashore so her anxieties can't pull her out so far that she can't touch the bottom of the ocean floor. He is keeping her at bay.
Slowly, once she no longer has to think about her every breath, she opens her eyes.
Alan gives her a lopsided smile, his large hand subtly moving to her wrist to take her pulse. "Good girl. There you go. Keep taking slow, deep breaths."
His voice is clearer now. She can hear the clock ticking on the wall, the kettle rumbling as it comes to a boil over by the tea station. Her skin no longer feels like it's burning or itching. She feels tired, positively exhausted, and the room is still spinning, admittedly much slower now. Nothing is quite as fast and panicked.
"What happened?" She asks, allowing her head to loll against Alan's chest. She can hear the steady thud of his heart.
"You fainted," he says quietly, rubbing her arm. "Scared the shite out of me for a moment."
"Sorry," she murmurs, ashamed.
"Darling, no need to apologise," Alan assures, kissing her temple sweetly. "Do you want to lie down on the couch? Or... we can take a walk outside?"
Her slightly unfocused eyes land on the front door across the room.
"NO. No, no, no," she says, trying to push herself upright even though her head is protesting painfully.
"Woah, woah," he gently holds her in place. "Careful, darling."
"Not outside," tears burn in her eyes again. "...h-he could still be outside."
Alan looks confused at her, his brows pulling in a knot. "You mean, the man from the tube?"
She nods, shame pooling in her chest. She knows she has to tell Alan the truth.
"(Y/N) Rickman," her head snaps up to him, the use of her full name burning through her. His chestnut eyes are gentle as he tightens his arms around her. "You don't need to tell me right away, but I do want you to tell me at some point."
"But, Al-"
"No buts," he helps her off the kitchen floor with a grunt, guiding her towards the living room.
"Here," he helps her lie down on the sofa, placing a plump pillow under her head and resting her feet on the arm of the sofa. "Just relax for a second. I'll get you some water."
"I don't want to hold you up, darling," she calls out weakly before he turns back to the kitchen. "I know you were planning on meeting with your team this evening," she remembers his wallet and keys he had placed on the back of the sofa.
Alan doesn't turn around, but she can hear the tap turn on and the cupboard open where they keep their glasses.
When he returns with the glass of water, he merely shrugs, "You take priority, darling. Always."
Squatting down beside her, Alan hands her the glass. Unsure if she'll be strong enough to keep a good grip on the glass, he holds it for her in place. (Y/N) lifts herself up to have a small sip. It doesn't taste quite right in her mouth, but she knows he'll make her drink it regardless.
"You're stressed," he says simply, as if he is reading her while she drains the glass before he takes it back from her. "You've reached your limit."
"I only passed out, Al," she states, arguing his point.
"And had a panic attack," he brushes a hand over her forehead, frowning to himself.
His wife suffers from anxiety, allowing him to have witnessed multiple of her panic attacks in the past, but none of them has caused her to blackout like she just did.
"I'm cancelling my plans tonight. I won't let you sit here in fear of who might be out there," he points with his thumb in the direction of the front door.
"You don't have to stay, really," even as she speaks, she can feel her eyelids getting heavier, her body and mind exhausted. "I'll be fine. I'll-I'll sleep."
"I'm staying," he says decisively, fishing his phone out of his trouser pockets. "Knowing you, I'll come back to find out you stayed up all night, watching the window for anyone who passes by."
She huffs in annoyance as he dials a number.
"I'm not some disobedient child, Alan."
"Of course not, darling," he says teasingly, standing up, "but you are my good girl. I know you, so for once, please listen to me."
As the dial tone rings and starts to connect, Alan pulls the blanket off the back of the sofa and gently lays it over her.
(Y/N) feels pathetic. She's able to take care of herself, she would've been fine if Alan had left before she fainted, she would've just--
"You might've hit your head if I wasn't there to catch you," he cuts off her thoughts, as if reading her mind, and points an accusing finger at her. He tucks the blanket under her chin, "I'll be back momentarily."
She does try to relax, although it is easier said than done. Listening to Alan in the kitchen speaking over the phone to his team, telling them that he's cancelling their evening plans due to a family matter is making her feel guilty. Embarrassment rolls over her like waves.
After the phone call with the team, Alan calls the local security company at which point (Y/N) turns on her side, her heavy eyelids fluttering closed.
She must have worried him this time if he's contacting the security company - it's the last thought swimming through her mind before darkness settles over her.
She notices the man out of the corner of her eye exiting the tube at the same time as her.
As they exit Barons Court station, the man starts cat-calling and hollering at her from behind.
She tries to ignore it as much as she can but he is causing too much of a scene for her not to notice.
Unfortunately, there is no one else around as she looks around for help.
Dusk has just settled over West London, the streetlights flicking on and casting an orange glow over the green shrubberies next to the side walk.
"Hey, luv, where you comin' from?" The man asks, reeking of whiskey as he enters (Y/N)'s personal space.
She tightens the grip on her handbag, taking note of the man in case she needs to give a description later on.
Tall, scrawny, dressed in baggy black cargo trousers, a shredded white shirt and a long black coat. His shoes, black, have seen better days. Scrawny-looking beard that matches his sparse sandy blonde hair dripping in oil. Eyes as black as tar and rotting, crooked teeth.
"I'm not interested, thanks," she gives a tight-lipped smile before picking up her pace, the heels of her court shoes clicking against the pavement.
She tries not to look at him, but the sight of him is just too intimidating.
To her surprise, the man places an arm around her waist, his touch making her shudder.
It was not like the effect Alan has on her. When Alan touches her, she gets goosebumps, leaving her wanting more. The man makes her feel like vomiting and screaming. At the same time.
She immediately slaps away his arm, jogging slightly to get away from the creep.
She hears him growling under his breath, before he reaches out, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back in a fit of rage.
"AHHH!" She shouts, clutching the back of her head as her knees buckle.
She barely has a chance to blink before he shoves her into the alleyway, out of sight.
"Get off of me!" She tries to push him off her, but his hand latches onto the back of her neck, his fingers pushing into her delicate flesh. "P-please stop."
Her heart is hammering in her chest, bile feeling like it's about to spew out of her throat.
"Stop moving, you fat bitch," he growls close to her face, his breath reeking of poor dental hygiene and alcohol.
His fingers are digging harder. She knows his fingers will leave bruises.
"A pussy like yours sure does smell nice," his crooked teeth are on display as he smiles sinisterly. "Here, can I stick it in your hole?"
His hand moves done between their bodies, cupping her mound and squeezing hard.
At this point, (Y/N)'s had enough. She picks her leg up off the ground and knees him in the crotch, violently swinging her bag and hitting him in the head.
As the man buckles to the ground, she turns and runs as fast as her stubby legs can carry her.
Once she managed to run far enough to lose sight of the alleyway, she slows down, feeling her legs trembling. Involuntary tears run down her cheeks and her body starts to shake. She's on the edge of a panic attack and tries her best to stop herself from hyperventilating.
She needs to pull herself together before she reaches home.
She turns around, only to see the man emerging from the alleyway, looking livid.
"No!"
"No! NO! Get off meeee," she sobs, struggling under the blanket, her arms and legs flailing about.
"(Y/N), (Y/N), darling. Calm down, it's just me," Alan says calmly, squatting next to her by the sofa.
He moves to sit next to her before pulling her shaking form into his chest.
"Do you wish to talk about it?" Alan asks quietly after she had calmed down, gently brushing her head with his palm and noticing the rough bruises in her neck.
(Y/N) shuts her eyes and exhales a sharp breath through her nose. She knows she needs to tell him in order to give herself inner peace.
"Darling, the bruises on your neck... a-are they fingerprints? Did he hurt you?" Alan asks, pulling her back so he can look at her.
Her eyes are filled with hurt and sorrow.
"Uhm... yeah..." she utters quietly, looking down to her trembling hands in her lap.
She continues to tell him about the incident, watching as his chestnut eyes start to burn with rage.
"Dear God... Darling, why didn't you tell me sooner? I would've gone right out and hunted that man down. The bastard violated you--"
"It's not that bad, Al. He groped me, it was unnerving is all," she turns her head away, unable to look at her husband for some reason.
Alan places two fingers under her chin, guiding her head to look at him.
"Darling, don't downplay it. What you've been through is godawful. Nobody should get away with it. It is wrong for men to objectify women like that without there being consequences."
"Oh, there were consequences, alright," she says with a wicked smile, causing Alan to frown in confusion.
"I kneed him so hard he might not be able to reproduce in the future."
Alan laughs whole-heartedly while pulling her back into his chest.
"That's my good girl."