Author's Note: Just something that came to me after watching The Family Way (s21e15). It was originally going to be a series of one-shots across various stages of Chloe's life where she struggles with her panic attacks and anxiety but I have too many ideas for this particular section so for now it will be a story in its own right and I may write other stages of her life at a later date. Reviews are always appreciated!

N.B. All characters officially belong to the BBC, however unofficially, Chloe, the precious little gem that she is, is mine and I will not share her ;)

Chloe stood up from the desk and sent the whole contents flying across the room, tears streaming down her cheeks and her breaths becoming sharp and uncontrollable. She clutched her chest and sank to the floor in a corner of the room, her eyes screwed shut, desperately trying to even out her breathing. She wanted to block out everything - the voice in her head constantly telling her that she would never be good enough, the endless information that she had read over and over again in the textbooks and the carefree chatter of the other students in the corridor but alas, try as she might, it was becoming more and more impossible by the second. Eventually, after what felt like forever, Chloe's breathing started to slow and the tightness in her chest loosened. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked around, horrified to see the state of the classroom - books and papers with frantic scribblings covered the floor, her water bottle lay on its side with the contents slowly dripping out next to it and the plastic chair was at least a metre away from the desk. She felt awful. How could she have done this? This was not the calm, quiet, level-headed Chloe Godard that put her hand up to answer nearly every question the teachers would ask. This was not the Chloe Godard who, despite having no real friends of her own, would always reach out to those in need. This was not the Chloe Godard who one day aspired to be as brilliant as her mum. Mum. What would she think if she could see Chloe now? She would be disappointed, surely, angry even. Chloe could not bear that. She had tried so hard to be the best she could be and to make Ange proud. Was she really kidding herself? Was she as worthless and useless as the voice inside her head had been telling her these past few weeks? Despite the fresh wave of dread that her mum's reaction filled her with, Chloe knew that she could not bear to be here at school any longer and as much as she hated the thought of bunking off, something which she would never dare to do, she knew that she had to get out.

The house was in darkness. With her mum having been off work sick for the last week, Chloe had been careful to ensure that she had left all the curtains closed in order to allow Ange to rest. Ange awoke to the familiar sensation of an aching in the back of her throat. Like most of the staff in the hospital, she had picked up the annual flu-like cold but thankfully now was over the worst of it, left with just the sore throat to get rid of. She reached for the glass next to her bed but the ease at which she drowsily lifted it up off the bedside table told her that it was empty. Although not too keen on the idea of leaving her warm bed to get some more, she knew it would be a choice between that or practically coughing her lungs up until Chloe got home from school. Sighing, Ange rolled out of her bed, wrapped herself up in her dressing gown and put on her slippers, trudging out of the room and down the stairs. Having not bothered to put the light on, Ange was caught by surprise when she nearly flew head-first into the front door after tripping over a bag which she mindlessly put down to her forgetting to put away the previous day. She entered the kitchen and quickly felt her stomach drop when she saw a familiar figure sprawled across the table, head in her arms, fast asleep.

"Chloe?" She whispered, panicked as she drew back the blinds. "Chloe?" Tentatively but hurriedly, Ange sat down in a chair beside her daughter, who began to stir.

"No." She mumbled. "Time to stop. But too much to do, too much to do!" Chloe cried out as she was jerked back into consciousness, tears once again trickling down her cheeks.

"Chloe, it's okay, you're at home, you're safe." Ange reassured her daughter as she took her into her arms, now even more concerned than she was a few moments ago.

"I'm...sorry..." She choked through sobs.

"Don't talk yet, just let it all out, it's okay, I'm here." Ange soothed.

The sobbing had stopped a good while ago but Ange held Chloe, stroking her hair until she was ready to move or talk, whichever came first. Eventually, Chloe sat up and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her navy school jumper, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Ange. "You should be resting." She spoke quietly. "You came down for water? I'll bring it up for you." As she reached for the glass, Ange put her hand over Chloe's to stop her.

"No. You and I need to talk." Ange told her firmly. "Besides, I'm feeling much better today." She smiled. There was a brief pause. "Did you get sent home from school?" Chloe's gaze fell to her lap where her hands were frantically twisting round each other. She shook her head. "You mean you just left? Chloe, why would you do that?"

"I told them, I told the nurse I didn't feel right but she wouldn't believe me. I tried, mum, but I couldn't do it, I was on my own and I thought I was going to die." Chloe explained, tears pricking in her eyes. "I didn't want to leave but they just wouldn't listen."

"What do you mean you thought you were going to die?" Ange was mortified.

"I was trying to finish my maths homework but I couldn't understand it and then I couldn't breathe and my chest hurt and the room was spinning..." She gabbled, breathing becoming rapid once again. "...and the voice said that I'm useless and...and worthless and that I've let you down and I just didn't know what to do." Ange cupped her hands over Chloe's and waited patiently until her breathing became regular once again.

"You are none of those things. You are wonderful, bright, funny and downright cheeky at times but you have not let me down, you never could. Everyday you make me so proud and I know you'll go on to do amazing things. I think what happened today was a panic attack. You've heard of them, right?" Chloe nodded. "Has it ever happened before?" Ange asked sympathetically. Chloe paused but again, gave another small nod. "When?"

"Most nights." She said, almost inaudibly. "Just as I'm trying to sleep. Never at school before." Ange took a breath as she tried to stop herself from showing how upset she was.

"Do you ever feel worried about anything?"

"All the time." Chloe dared to make eye-contact with her mum but after seeing the heartbreak in her eyes, quickly looked back down. "I wake up with a funny feeling in my tummy and a lot of the time I feel shaky and nervous and I just don't feel like me anymore." As she blinked, a fresh set of tears escaped and Ange tenderly wiped them away with her thumb.

"Why, why didn't you tell me?" Ange asked, tears welling up in her own eyes.

"Because I thought you would be angry."

"Never, never." Ange reassured her. "Chloe, it might be hard for you to hear but I think you have anxiety..."

"No! No I don't!" Chloe stood up, sheer panic on her face. Ange also stood up, hands half raised.

"Sweetheart it's okay to be upset."

"I don't have it!" Chloe insisted. "Why would you say that? I can't have it, I can't!" Ange took a step towards her daughter and defensively, Chloe lashed out, pounding Ange's arms. Gently, Ange took Chloe's wrists to stop her and pulled her close as both of them cried into each other.

After some time, the two of them had composed themselves and had at some point broken apart. Chloe had left the room and Ange had let her, not wanting to put any more stress on her daughter than she was already under. In all the upset, Ange realised that the school did not yet know that Chloe was at home, so decided to phone them and inform them of what was happening, only to be told that they had had their concerns about Chloe for weeks now. Ange was angry. Angry with the school for not saying anything to her sooner and for not making any effort to try and talk to Chloe. Most of all, Ange was angry with herself. She was Chloe's mum. She had watched her grow up, thought she knew her better than anyone else ever would and yet, she missed her daughter breaking down everyday, isolating herself to the point where she felt unable to talk to her about what had been happening. Where had everything gone so terribly wrong?