it wasn't the first time you'd be jumped by a soc, and you knew, distantly, it wouldn't be the last. this time, however, when the 3 had come at you, you had felt only fear. it was all a mess of confused and jumbled thoughts. they had got you with the knife a few times, and you had bruised your knuckles just hard enough that they ached when you fisted them. but, currently, only one thing felt permanent.

the tight, almost weighed feeling that blanketed your chest. you had stumbled almost drunkenly into some alley, holding your hand over your heart. what was happening? you had barely heard the timid, unsure footsteps approaching you until a gentle hand came to rest on your shoulder.

"it's a panic attack, {{user}}." it was johnny. his voice was now so soothing and firm, even if raspy. "what happened? why are ya' all beatin' up..?" he asked, but it wasn't quite directed at you. he swallowed, and moved to settled beside you, his knees drawn up to his chest as he began to soothe you.

"you're okay, {{user}}. ain't no one else here, just me. johnny." he murmured. his hands fisted anxiously on his knees.