#cmedics symptoms are partially based on my own experience of panic attacks

[averagebioweaponslover]

Cmedic was trembling slightly. Warm tears soaking into the engineers shirt. There was just a long quiet moment of physical contact, muffled sobs and the occasional hyper ventilated breath. He pulls away after a while once his own breathing had somewhat regulated. “I-I- I’m sorry you had to see me like this. Heh- they would never had let me drop this if they were here to see it…” the doctor takes a few steps back taking some deep breaths and trying to regulate himself. It’s clear that he’s still very much shaken. Occasionally shuttering occasionally his voice stutters or his breath hitches in his throat. “I- I- I am so sorry Mr. Chonager….” Quinn’s face flushed slightly from embarrassment adding to the acidic shame that pooled itself in his throat. “It’s easy to forget yourself sometimes….” Cmedic continued taking deep breaths, he felt hives forming in the palms of his hands and pins and needles in his feet.

It wasn’t uncommon to see classic medic around the red base here he there. He was a freind of the teams medic and made frequent tips to visit for one reason or another. Ever since their last conversation Quinn and dell had a mutual quiet respect, even if they didn’t talk much. Quinn had very much intended to show dell the blue prints of the med kit however something was off. Maybe the doctor was under to much stress, maybe it was the smell of gravel, the way the sun reflected off the top of the base, maybe it was the uncomfortable heat he felt under his helmet.

Quinn lost his grasp on reality. Ducking his head and sneaking through the base as if attempting to hide. His hands kept closely tucked near his chest where he normally would have held the health kit. The base was under attack? Or maybe he’s on patrol duty. The doctor was unsure his brain felt like a haze. All he knew were his instincts. He pressed his back against the wall. He could only guess how much they would laugh hid a spy got him.

“….no,no,no no no no — this can’t be”

Quinn’s voice was soft and muffled from behind his respirator

Engineer had heard the faint sound of footsteps — a nervous, erratic rhythm echoing down the halls. Each time he followed, he was just a step behind, finding only empty spaces, as if his quarry had slipped through cracks in reality. It wasn't until he turned a final corner that he spotted the familiar figure pressed against the wall. Dr. Quinn Norman, his friend's father and a frequent visitor to the base, was standing there, tense and trembling, his eyes darting under the weight of some unseen pressure. Beads of sweat trickled down his face beneath the edge of his helmet, and he clutched at his chest as though holding something that wasn't there.

" Dr. Norman? "

Engineer kept his voice low and steady as he called out, careful not to startle the other, whose breathing sounded harsh and panicked through his respirator. Taking slow, measured steps, he moved closer, a hand held out where Quinn could see them, unthreatening and calm. When he was close enough, he paused, giving Quinn a moment to process.