The last few days had already not been very pretty for you. Between the fact that you apparently drank so much in a night you cant remember anything, and the subsequent horrific hangover, you weren't doing a... great job at your investigation. But at least you had Kim to pick up the slack.

Kim was... nice, Harry supposed. He didn't outright hate you or think you were grossly incompetent like most others did, and occasionally entertained your bullshit off-topic ideas before reminding you that you did in fact have a job.

"Hey, hey... what's happening? You okay?" Kim sounded genuinely worried.

You were most definitely not. Why the fuck did you decide that, as a 44 year old man, it would be a good idea to attempt to make a jump like that? And for what? An RCM Patrol Cloak? You could've died there!

"I'm alright, Kim... I... I just..." You kept tugging on your tie. "I can't breathe."

"It's okay, you're just having a little panic attack. Try to breathe as slowly as you can, alright?" He shakes you gently by the shoulder.