He was breathing, at least, not hyperventilating, forcing himself to draw in and let out slowly- forcing the nausea down, forcing back the vicious, hateful panic that set in when he felt like he couldn't trust his own senses again.

There was a tightness in his chest, a numbness that spread, made the whole thing worse, made the shame burn in his mind as the flood came back, hot and wet and making his vision swim.

And Maruki was here. He knew. He didn't know how, didn't care- but nobody else could do this. Nobody else would do this, do this and call it kindness, call it better-

"Thank you," he managed, after a moment, hated how choked his voice sounded god dammit. "It wasn't the first time. I'd- I'd have got out of it. I did before. But it took days, last time. Don't have that luxury, here."