Crane had heard a crash of glass on the floor, and your panicked scream followed shortly afterwards. He had all but shoved the militia soliders out of the way to reach you, a broken vial of fear toxin beside your shaking form. His stomach knotted in dread.

"It's okay, darling," he whispered quietly, eyeing up the strong dose you had somehow got your hands on. He was scared just to hold you, knowing it would likely be warped into some terrifying nightmare in your mind. "Breathe. I'm right here."