I am Jean Moreau, I belong to the Moriyama family, I am not a Raven.

The mantra was a constant in his head, a futile attempt to gain his crumbling composure back with bandaged fingers that pressed into his throat like talons digging into wood. He couldn’t breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, no matter how hard he tried.

Words felt like sand as they tried forming just to slip through his lips, it was too vulnerable and he felt tears burn at his eyes, something that dug the knife deeper into his chest. His arms stayed wrapped around his knees, pulling them to his chest like he could curl up and disappear from the room, that usually seemed so safe, now feeling too small.

Cat and Laila weren’t home to pull him from the depths of his slowly shattering mind, and sanity felt like it was ghosting the tips of his fingers, right out of reach but somehow so incredibly far that he wondered if he’d ever get it back. His hand, previously clutching his leg, moved to wrap around his own throat, squeezing hard enough to draw blood with his nails that dug into the delicate skin. Teeth biting down hard enough to draw blood, begging for help, drowning-

He shuddered, fear cloaking him in a heavy blanket as his memories dragged themselves out of the deep corners he forced them into. His hand felt unbroken flesh surrounding his throat, a small comfort despite his sharp tips, a reminder that he wasn’t back at Castle Evermore. God, if only his thoughts weren’t such vengeful creatures that fought for his attention, drowning him in self-hatred and anxiety without remorse.