#panic attack ;

[ SIGNAL FOUND. ]

Tommy darts at Darnold and Coomer, enveloping both of them in a tight hug.

“Y-yeah, we’re back!! Mx. Ren helped us not get caught by the - the Devil!”

“Are they alright? Please tell me you didn’t just leave them there.”

“... Uhhh--”

“Tommy!!!”

“Now Darnold, we should trust Ren! They’ve managed to stay out of the Devil’s grasp for many years now. Surely, they’ll be fine this time, too.”

“Okay... but you got that guy, right? The one you said you were going to help! ... And also the several dozen other ghosts he has following him around.”

“Yeah! And he got the watch!”

“That thing Ren was looking for?”

“Ah, excellent! Now we can finally know what time it is!”

“N-no, not that, Mr. Coomer... Mr. Freeman, can you--”

Tommy turns to Gordon, who is still breathing hard and is now propped up against the door. The look in his eyes is... vacant.

“... Mr. Freeman?”

“...”

{  ☾  }

“Virge...” Voice was soft, words slow and articulate. Zane had never seen Virgil have a panic attack, but it was certainly not a phenomenon that he was unfamiliar with. “Virgil, can you hear me...? I need you to let me know if you hear me... Just I need you to breathe. I need you to take a deep breath, okay? Take it easy....”

A hand reached out but did not make contact; it was simply held out for Virgil to see. “Virge, look at me, okay? Look up at me. You’re okay, Virge, you’re safe, you’re okay, you’re not in danger. I’m here with you, okay? I’m here. You’re not alone. I just need you to breathe, Virgil.”

“I-I don’t - know what I - fuck--”

Gordon swallows in some attempt to get his throat to open again. “Y--you ever just - feel like the entire fucking world is just--breaking around you? I fucking - I-I almost died tonight! Twice!” Saying the words out loud turns him colder than any ghost could ever make him feel. “I just got - pulled into all of this shit o-out of nowhere! And that son of a bitch tried to use--”

Gordon can’t finish the sentence. He grasps at his hair and pulls.

“I-I just - I don’t know what the hell is happening, man!”

“Oh, dear...”

Coomer floats down next to Gordon and reaches for one of his hands; though Coomer’s hand goes right through Gordon’s, the cold is enough to make Gordon look at the ghost.

“Your little friend is right, Gordon. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight...”