Genre: Hurt/comfort

Warnings: claustrophobia, swearing

It hadn't bothered him in a while, not like this anyway. Sure, the first week or so after he'd escaped the coffin had been difficult. The fear of waking up back in that godforsaken box had haunted him every time he'd closed his eyes and he had stayed clear of small spaces, but with time, like every other trauma-induced fear in his life, the blind panic had faded into a mere discomfort which he kept stored in the back of his mind.

Until now.

He'd only been messing about while "cleaning" in the streets when he'd accidentally smacked a child in the face with his broom, just as a police officer walked by (what where the chances of that happening, anyway?). They'd all made a break for it and Nathan, along with the rest of the gang (apart for Kelly and the tall one) had managed to find an empty container to hide in.

This was where he was currently located, his knees curled up into his chest and his back leaning against the dark walls that surrounding him. He was trying to keep his breathing slow as to not draw attention to himself, but he could feel the fear spread like mist through-out his mind, dimming the control he had over his body.

"Nathan, shut the fuck up!"

He jumped at the sound of his name, giving the whole container an audible shake. He hadn't been aware that he was making any noise. Squinting through the darkness, he could only just make out the form of Alisha's hair. Pulling a shaky smile, he was about to brush her comment of with some witty comeback, when the sound of approaching footsteps filled the air.

"I think I heard something from over here!"

Oh god, it was the police officer! And he had company. Great, fucking great. Stay calm Nathan. Stay. Calm. Don't freak out now, you're fine. Breathe, breathe, breathe...

Shaking silently, he was again taken by surprise when he felt a warm hand clasp around the back of his neck. Nathan wasn't quite able to stop his fear from materialising, a whisper of a moan finding its way out of his mouth as he turned, eyes wide with terror, to face Alissa.

"What are you playing at?" she was whispering in an angered voice. "They're just outside, stop messing about!"

"I don't think he's playing," came the soft murmur from the other boy. "I think he's having a panic attack."

Nathan was unable to respond, his tongue suddenly feeling to big for his mouth. His input in the matter didn't seem to be required though, for he soon felt the pressure around his neck loosen as the girl let him go.

They managed to remain still and quiet, Nathan simply biting at the inside of his lip, until Alisha deemed enough time to have gone by since the officers had passed. Why the officer hadn't thought to look where they where hiding surprised them all, but they decided not to question it.

Nathan shot up immediately, relief flooding through his limbs at the prospect of finally getting out. Firmly, he planted his palms at the cool metal and pushed.

A loud clang tore through the enclosed space, and then nothing. The lid wouldn't budge. A chill of dread clawed it's way around his gut.

Clink!

Again. Still nothing.

No, no, no, no, no, no...

"Nathan–"

"FUCK!" he yelled, slamming at it with his fists this time. "Fucking SHIT! LET ME OUT" he was shouting now, not caring about the looks he was probably receiving from the rest of his company. He couldn't care less about them at the moment, just needed to be out in the fresh air, feel the freedom in his hands as he stretched his arms out from his body.

Another pair of arms found their way around his waist. The air was forced from his lungs and he coughed, sinking into Simons grip. Nathan could feel the others hand working in an awkward petting motion, probably attempting to calm him down. The realisation that this was a perfect opportunity to make a lewd comment passed through his head, but he wasn't sure he could form coherent words at the moment.

Slowly, he willed his muscles to relax into the somewhat unsteady rhythm and his breathing stilled. His body was still on alert, but at least he wasn't humiliating himself anymore.

"Are you okay?"

Nathan winced at the question. "Sure I am." He sounded more confident than he felt. "Just messing with you. Ahaha..." He trailed off, the joke sounding hollow even to his ears. Thankfully though, neither Simon nor Alisha commented on it.

It was Alisha who spoke up next. "So how do we get out then?"

"We wait," Simon murmured. Nathan tried not to let the implication get the better of him, tried to ignore the fact that they had no means of escape and that they could he could be trapped in there forever with no chance to be free again and his mind would have to live whilst his body grew weak and oh god he'd started hyperventilating and there was no air and he couldn't breathe–

"Nathan?"

But he wasn't there anymore. The arms around him became yet another restraint and his body flared up with panic. He flung his arms out and arched his back, needing to get away. His elbow made contact with something soft and he was suddenly free, falling face-first onto the containers floor. It wasn't enough though: he needed out.

The faint smell of rubbish was replaced by sweat and silk and shit and he was back in the confines of his coffin. He kicked. He struggled. He flailed. He screamed. He did everything he could think of to draw outside attention to himself. He didn't want to be trapped forever, not when time already seemed to be standing still–

Someone must have heard his wails, because after a time (to much time) the lid to the container opened. Light flooded the empty space and Nathan instantly jumped to his feet. Like an animal in flight, he clambered up the wall and threw himself off the edge, plummeting to the ground with a thud.

Free at last!

It was as if he'd been starved of oxygen and was allowed to breathe for the first time in days. On the verge of weeping with joy, he felt his muscles go lax with relief and was unable to stop himself from sinking into a crouch.

"Wha' the fock was goin' on in there?"

At that moment, Nathan became acutely aware of two things: his crazed behaviour, and that his face was wet. Well, why not? Everything else seems to be going so well today!

Someone was watching him. Slowly, dreading the looks he'd bee receiving, he turned around. Four pairs of eyes stared questioningly at him. Well, three; Simon was more of a concerned-yet-still-creepily-impassive gaze.

"Like what you see?" he snapped, shakily rising to his feet. Still, no one said anything. Nathan narrowed his gaze at them. "Right! Fine, I'm claustrophobic! Big surprise, I actually have a weakness! But hey, getting buried alive can do that to a bloke. Now, if you guys don't mind, I think we should all head back to the center and have a massive orgy. Sound like a plan?"

Still, the staring.

He'd had enough. "FINE! If there's no sex, could you all just fuck off? Thank you!"

Hesitantly, Curtis glanced around. It was obvious he wanted to say something, but decided against it. He nudged Alisha and Kelly, before turning to leave. The two girls followed, Kelly casting him a concerned glance, probably reading his mind for more signs of an outburst.

"Well?" he said, folding his arms across his chest as his eyes found the last remaining body. Simon stared back at him, but couldn't seem to hold his gaze, icy eyes traveling up and down the length of Nathans body. "Like what you see?" he snapped.

"Y-your bleeding, just here." Simon gestured to his mouth, as well as parts of his chin and hands.

Nathan glanced down and indeed, his orange jumpsuit was stained with red blotches. Huh. He hadn't been expecting that. Must have done it in the struggle. "No worries, Barry. I'm immortal, remember?"

Simon nodded, expressing no discontent over being called the wrong name. Instead, he stared again, making Nathan feel slightly uncomfortable. "Well?"

"Are you okay? I-I'll listen, if you want to talk."

Nathan scoffed, and was about to go into his automatic come-back mode, but the comment had actually caught him off guard. He hesitated. Opening up was definitely not the norm for him, but hadn't he already made a fool of himself? Weighing his options, he actually thought before he opened his mouth. "Not sure if there'll be much talking involved, but we could go for a drink."

"Like a date." Nathan wasn't sure if it was meant to be a joke or not, but he smiled anyway.

"I've told you, I am not your whore. Just let me get changed first, don't want to go scaring the general public." He paused, suddenly struck by a brilliant idea. "Then again..."

They walked of in search of a bar, community duties forgotten for the time being. Nathan was sure there wouldn't be much "talking" (quotes indicating seriousness) but he'd have a laugh and take his mind of things.

For the time being, anyway.