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This is not how he wanted them to find out. It seemed like a running theme in his life the last few months, he noted dryly, that every person he tried to hide his illness from, they inevitably found out in the worst possible way. But this…this took the cake. He was still reeling from it; from the reactions he was getting, so was everyone else. Then again, it could be because he was panicking. At least, he thought he was panicking; it would explain how dizzy he felt and why he was suddenly resting against Ryan’s chest and…oh, the hair stroking was nice. He liked that.
"Gavin, breathe. You’re hyperventilating and I don’t want you to panic yourself into another seizure," Ryan’s voice was soft and rumbly under his ear and he found himself following the older man’s breathing as he tried to calm down. Ryan really was the soothing force he needed, which was surprising given the man’s love of chaos when it came to the virtual world. Then again, was it really surprising? He did have a family after all, so he had to have some sort of responsibility, right? If anything, Ryan was the most responsible of them all, wasn’t he?
Was it possible to ramble in your own mind? Maybe it was because he was feeling so drained from his panic. And the seizure. Right, that was the reason for the panic. He had a seizure in front of a group of fans and probably made them panic as much as he was now. He was bloody screwed, wasn’t he?
"Gavin? You still with us?" Ray’s hesitant voice cut through the muddled thoughts swimming around his mind and he blinked up at the two men hovering over him, Ray playing with his hands, Michael’s arms crossed over his chest. They were waiting for a reply, weren’t they?
"Yeah…yeah, just…thinking."
"At least you’re breathing better," Ryan said, rubbing the Brit’s back. When had Ryan’s hand moved from his hair? Why did it matter? God, he was so minged up.
"Where is he?" Geoff sounded just as panicked as Gavin felt, he noted, as his gaze slowly moved over to the Gent, Jack and Burnie right on his heels, "You asshole. If I wasn’t so fucking worried I’d be kicking your dick in."
Despite his words, he found himself being pulled from Ryan’s warm grasp into a hug from Geoff, one that he just barely returned, still feeling tired and lightheaded. Side effects from having a panic attack right after a seizure, he supposed.
"How do you feel, Gav?" Burnie’s voice was kind as he took a seat on the other side of Ryan, looking over the younger man with scrutinizing eyes, almost like he was looking for signs of another seizure, which probably wasn’t a bad idea, considering.
"Bloody tired. And lightheaded, but that’s probably from the hyperventilating."
"Hyperventilating? Why were you hyperventilating? You don’t hyperventilate after a seizure, at least normally. What happened?" Geoff was off, babbling in a high pitched voice he normally reserved for videos but was actually an indication of nervousness or worry. But, he had asked the million dollar question, hadn’t he? What happened?
He, Michael, Ray and Ryan had just been enjoying a leisurely stroll, chatting with each other. Oh, and chatting with the numerous fans that bombarded them; not that anyone had minded, though, considering it was kinda RTX and some of the people stopping them had travelled hundreds of miles just to meet them. That was something that still blew his mind; people wanted to meet him.
But that was going to change now, wasn’t it? He had been feeling lightheaded most of the day, but waved it off as a headache and nervousness surrounding the opening day of the biggest event of the year for the employees of Rooster Teeth. He should have known better. He should have known that feeling wasn’t one of nervousness, but one of an oncoming spell. Too bad he realized it far too late. At least he had time to let Ryan know, via their code: a phone call. Ryan had been the one to catch him when his knees gave out from under his tense body; Michael and Ray had to do their best to keep the fans back while Ryan tried to coax him back into the living. According to his fellow Lads, the fans had been panicking more than they were, though whether that was from shock or the fact that they had become slightly accustomed to the seizures, they couldn’t say.
When he finally came to, Ryan had scooped him up, not trusting Gavin’s unsteady legs and had pushed himself through the crowd to the nearest quiet location: a dressing room. Which is where he now was, after having a brief panic attack about the situation he found himself in. Sausages.
The group was quiet following the short storytime, each eyeing Gavin, waiting to see what he would do, or if they would need to help him with anything. It didn’t take long for him to form a conclusion on their next plan of action. Or, really, his next plan of action.
"I have to tell them."
"Are you sure, Gav? I know you didn’t really want them to know," Geoff was using the tone he usually reserved for Millie when she needed the comfort of her father; he felt a rush of affection for the elder man, and gave him a tired smile.
"I don’t really have a choice, do I? They saw what happened, Geoff. After that scare, I bloody owe them the truth."
"Whatever you want to do, boi, we gotcha. You won’t be doing anything by yourself," Michael stated, his tone leaving no room for argument, not that Gavin would be arguing. Having their support behind him would be the best thing for him, making this announcement to the people that looked up to him.
It wasn’t ideal, how they decided to go about it, but it would work. They ended up adding a small panel, the whole purpose to be an informal setting where Gavin could get everything out in the open, hopefully to a smaller amount of people. However, they were surprised at the number crowded in the small room; the concerned looks gracing the faces before him were enough to make him decide that he was doing the right thing. Yeah, they deserved the truth.
"So, this is just a short…thing…for Gavin to talk to you guys about what happened earlier. We know you guys were worried, and Gavin decided it was for the best that you guys know. Now, be fucking nice," Geoff’s gaze was stern as he looked over the crowd, ready to verbally destroy anyone who dared to give Gavin shit.
"Thank you, Geoffrey," Gavin said, his voice low, but still easily heard. He took a deep breath, standing and facing the sea of faces all watching him expectantly, "So…uh…I just wanted to let everyone know I’m okay. I’m not dying or anything like that. Actually…since the age of 14, I’ve been dealing with a form of epilepsy originally known as Petit Mal, though now known as Absence Seizures."
He paused, allowing the crowd to absorb the new information; the room was silent as a grave, and he could hear nothing more than his own heartbeat in his ears, silently betraying the nervousness he felt. Crowds were often things he was fine in front of; not this time. Not when he was announcing something like this.
"Basically, I can lose consciousness for a few seconds to a few minutes; to me, it’s similar to passing out. To anyone else, it seems like my brain has just shut off. After the incident today, that I’m bloody sorry for to anyone who was there, I thought your guys needed to know, just in case. But, I guess, uh…I’ll take a couple questions if anyone has any?"
It only took a moment before a few hands were raised, his stomach dropping as he picked the first one. He could feel the eyes of his fellow Hunters on him and allowed himself to relax, knowing they were there for him, just like they had been every time he needed them since they found out.
"I don’t really have a question," the younger man said, pushing his bangs out of his eyes, "But I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re okay. My friends and I were there, so we appreciate you telling us what happened."
Gavin smiled slightly in response, unable to keep himself from doing so, “I’m sorry again, that anyone had to see that. My brain likes to be a mingy little pleb at the worst possible times.” That earned a laugh from the crowd, though it may have just been his choice of words. Quietly, he motioned to the next person. And the next, slowly working his way through the standard questions he expected, like what it was like, and if the rest of the company knew. The last, though, wasn’t one he really expected. A young woman, probably younger than 18, took the mic taking a breath that was quite similar to the anxious one he had taken only a few moments before.
"Uh, hi…I just…I wanted to ask you how you kept yourself from getting upset about your seizures….because…I was just recently diagnosed with seizures…and the limits everyone puts on me just makes me feel like I can’t really do anything anymore. I just…how do you keep yourself from going mental?"
He watched her for a moment, considering his answer carefully, coming to one conclusion, keeping eye contact with her as he spoke, trying to convey the honesty in his following words, “Don’t let anyone stop you, because, in the end, it’s up to you to keep yourself from anything that might trigger a seziure. Don’t let anyone treat you differently; show them you’re still the strong person you were before the diagnosis. And, most importantly, keep people around you that won’t treat you like you’re bloody diseased or broken. Because you aren’t. Neither am I. We just have brains that are slightly different and minging annoying. Surround yourself with people who have your back, and know that you’re still you. But, make sure they know how to help you if they need to. It’ll be the best decision you’ll make.”
His gaze flicked back to his co-workers, not missing the smiles they were giving him; he still felt grateful, everyday he worked with his fellow ‘idiots’, that they were still there, and still willing to put up with him. It meant the world to him, and he wanted to make sure they knew it. He flicked back to the girl, mirroring her wide grin, “Thank you, Gavin.”
"Anytime, love. I think that’s it for today, though. I need to go take a long nap. But I’ll be around tomorrow, if anyone has anything else for me. Thank you, all of you, for being so bloody top,” he could feel Geoff’s hand on his shoulder as they said their goodbyes to the crowd, the older man leading him into the same dressing room as before, the rest of the men settling around the room. He could still feel their silent support, and the look of pride on Geoff’s face was more than worth the nerve-racking experience of explaining his illness to people who could be so incredibly judgmental. But, just thinking back to the last person to stand, how, hopefully, his words would make a difference to her, he realized maybe the crowd control was worth it.