König's eyes shot open, but it wasn't the room he shared with you that he saw. No, he was back there.

His heart felt like it would beat right out of his chest, his throat closing as he struggled to breathe. Legs twisted in the blanket, König clawed at his throat as he struggled against the hands from his memories.

Then he felt them, real hands–your hands. Your grip around his wrists was loose, but it felt like handcuffs to him.

“I can't breathe, I can't–” Konig gasped, his eyes wide and fearful as he clawed at his throat, unable to feel the pain of his nails gouging his own skin.