𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 [𝚐.𝚒 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝚐𝚗!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

XXXV

Aether's breath got heavier as his grip on Ariel's hand got tighter as the nervous energy of the doctors seeped into his very bones. The feeling of wrongness came back. Deep in his gut he felt it swirl and fester like a creeping darkness. Goosebump erupted over his being, and he shuddered as he was gently pulled by Ariel to the front desk of the hospital.

"Excuse me, miss?" Aether practically stuttered out. The woman behind the counter was young, but not terribly so, perhaps about her mid-thirties, with her long brown hair tied in a bun, ruffled strands framing her face, and a frown on her lips as she too watched the scurrying doctors. "I'm here to visit someone."

The woman sighed and looked at Aether with something akin to annoyance and pity. "Now's not a really good time kid," His stomach clenched, and he had to take a deep breath. "Everyone's outta order."

"What happened that's got everyone rushing around?" Paimon's shrill voice, tinged with anxiousness, rang in his ears.

The woman sighed again, and her frown got deeper. "A patient went missing last night. No signs of breaks ins, break outs, struggle... nothing but a note left behind." The woman shrugged. "The doctors are rushing throughout the hospital to check up on all the other patients and inquire about if they heard or saw anything last night."

"If- if I may ask... what patient went missing?" There was a hand squeezing Aether's throat. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. His mind was screaming at him. Something is wrong.

"Uhh... the patient in room 103. [Y/n], I believe their name is?" The woman shrugged once more, her voice riddled with annoyance, like a missing patient was simply an inconvenience.

Aether mind blanked. He didn't notice his breathing get so hysterical it made his head go fuzzy, he didn't notice his eyes tearing up. He could only focus on how that grip around his throat tightened exponentially once those words left the woman's mouth.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't breathe.

His gasping breaths were strangled as his throat bloated and constricted leaving little air to his brain. Every last thought was squeezed from his mind as tears dripped down his face. His voice croaked, unable to speak a single word as his mind fuzzed to the point he instinctively felt like he was going to pass out, like he was going to die.

He was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to die-

"I can't breathe!" He cried hysterically, hands reaching to grip his collar. "I can't breathe! I'm going to die! I'm going to die!"

Hands pushed on his shoulders, multiple sets. One familiar and warm and the other cold and tinged with the scent of cleaner. He was pushed to his knees, to sit on the cold floor of the hospital reception room as words tumbled from his mouth without his say, the tears staining the cloth parts of his armor.

He sat there for a while. He didn't know how much time had passed till he grew so exhausted he couldn't cry, so lightheaded he was leaning on something - someone - just to stay sitting upright. His throat slowly unclenched, his eyes drooping from weariness.

There were taps against the back of his hand, he realized. 1 2 3 4 pause, a drawn circle. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 pause, a circle. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 pause, circle. 1 2 3 4 -

He recognized it. A breathing exercise Ariel had taught him to try to help him manage the pain in his back on days that got worse but not bad enough to waste some of his medicine (they were for the really bad days only, can't have any more money gone because of-).

He followed the pattern once it circled back to four, inhaling, holding, and exhaling as Ariel's ghostly fingers tapped the rhythm to the back of his hand. His heart calmed, his eyes growing more aware of their surroundings.