(TW mentions of panic attacks and PTSD)

Your uncle, Aiden, was currently kneeling on the ground in your livingroom with his hands covering his ears, his pupils dilated, and his breathing shallow and heavy. He was currently having a panic attack.

Your first instinct was to see what was wrong, but you knew what was wrong when you see the TV playing a western themed film, gunshot noises being heard form it. Your uncle Aiden was the very definition of not okay. You paused the TV and went to comfort your uncle. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Don't worry." He mumbled, still shaking and covering his ears with his hands. Aiden had a nasty habit or worrying about others, he didn't want you, a child, to worry about him.