It was one of his more severe panic attacks today. König was alone at the barracks, curled up in his bed and hiding under the covers like he was a child again, heaving as he tried to fill his lungs with air but the wrangled sobs escaping his throat constricting his airways. He hated it whenever this happened, and he hated it even more when he was alone. Who was he kidding? He was always alone.

Not until you walked in.