Lacking in sufficient volume as they are, his rapid breathing manages to still accumulate behind his face mask in sickening heat that feeds into it all. Clawing at the mask, he tears it away with one hand with a gasp exposing his sharp teeth in the shelter of the shed, and drops it to the floor as his hand stills against his head after. The relief is mild, and slips away in the collapsing thought.

Benjiro hears Sadie, and he sees her transition to join him on the floor. He feels her arm move around his back, and as the stroking begins, he vaguely recognizes the vast difference between the slow motion of her hand and his shallow breathing. The first commands pass unheeded, but repetition gives him a chance to work towards the new rhythm. Shutting his eyes and dropping his head fully forward, he curls smaller to brace against himself as he starts to work to slow his breathing. The pace starts to ease, but then-

How long until he never feels her touch again?

His breath hitches at the thought and several seconds pass with the air lodged between his mouth and lungs. He succumbs to a heavy coughing fit when his autonomic system kicks in and he bows from the waist, shrinking even further down under the weight of the terror.