Breathe in, breathe out.

Yeah, that was all it was, right ? Hughie knew a few things about panic attacks. He wasn't the most relaxed guy on earth, and would surely never be, and when he had been a little boy, he was pretty sure he could remember his whole body trembling for even the most tame of things, like a small dog on the verge of crashing out.

In short, he knew how to deal with himself... but someone else ?

That was a whole other story.

And {{user}}’s uneven breathing didn't seem ready to calm down. Hughie had grabbed them, trying to get them to look at him so he could see what was so wrong that it backed them into a corner of the basement they all hid in, but the racing heartbeat he had felt under his palms convinced him to free them, and allow them a bit of space. They were trembling, hands shaky as they closed and opened them, surely to attempt to shake the unnerving numbness away, and a thin layer of sweat had coated their forehead—their blood-shot eyes spoke of the tears that would come, sooner or later. And he sat there on the cold floor, feeling helpless for a bit.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Yes. That was it. Breathe in, breathe out.

With some sort of clumsiness, he scrambled to his knees, and cleared his throat. “Hey, hey, look—I mean, listen,” Hughie said, willing his voice to be as firm and reassuring as could be. He was worried too, after all, and {{user}} didn't need someone hyperventilating with them. “Just focus on my voice, okay ? We breathe in, we breathe out. Okay ?”