“Henrik, you’re safe. It’s just you and me. We’re not in any danger. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Jackie’s hands, palms out to placate, swam in Henrik’s vision and he cringed, jerking his head away as he gagged. When he gasped for breath, it triggered another, forcing him to cover his nose and mouth. “T-Think -- Den Geruch,” he choked out against the roiling nausea. “Neuen Kölner.” Last time he had been confronted with that smell, it had been laced with the stench of blood and rotting flesh, desperation, the only meal he was offered -- 

“Cologne?” This was what he got for trying something new; Anti poisoned everything he touched. Stifling a wince, Jackie recoiled at once, his speed a contrast to a gentle, consoling tone. “Alright. Henrik, I’ll be right back for you with some water, okay? Just need to get this stuff off first.”

It wouldn’t stop, it would never stop. He was in that dark room again, sobbing uncontrollably with no one to hear. There were hands on him, scratching, slicing, and all Henrik could do was swing wildly against his restraints for escape. 

“Henrik! Henrik, stop, it’s Marvin!” Marvin? Marvin? Friend, brother. Was he here to save him? No, it couldn’t be. Anti was trying to get his guard down!

“Please...it’s me. It’s Marvin.” His voice was strained. “I -- nngh, I’m with you in your lab, remember? You’re having a flashback but y-you’re not in danger anymore. You’re safe. It’s not your f-fault. Just...open your eyes.”

Biting back a broken whimper, hating himself for hoping, Henrik peeked up through burning tears. Light. Cabinets. Clipboards. Coat hooks. And Marvin, white in the face, slumped against the wall with Schneep’s no.11 scalpel at his feet and blood running down the length of his forearm.

Immediately after he got back, it probably sent him into panic attacks. Now that he’s been recovering for a while, he’ll still tense and do his best to ground himself, but it won’t have as much of an effect unless it keeps building louder and louder.

It’s happened before, though with a slightly different word.

1. The Valentine’s Day he spent in captivity

2) I don’t see anything wrong with it :)

Yeah, he’s gotten back to a lot of his job, but he’s holding off on surgeries.

Wet, uncooked red meat being sliced and prepared with a knife, red fluids oozing out onto the plate? Need I say more? ^^”

His triggers can be unpredictable, but there are some that don’t change: having his neck/back/wrists touched in certain places, red meat, hot wax, roses, static shocks, ice water, and of course certain awful phrases that Anti drilled into his head. 

Main Schneep tends to just repress the memories, stuffing them as far down as he can -- which makes it all the more traumatic when they’re brought up again. :/

Oh, Jackie, sweetheart...He’s going to grab Henrik in the tightest hug when he sees him, just to make sure he’s safe and whole. 

He was shaking uncontrollably, dizzy and cold and his lungs were being wrung out like wet towels. Between his sobs and his wheezing, he could barely speak coherently.

“Please -- Please, not again! I-I’m sorry, I’ll b-be good, I’m a good p-p-p -- hh -- ” His thin frame shook with choked coughs. He would be hyperventilating if his chest was more open but the pain was too great. He could already feel the phantom tightness around his mouth and cheekbones. Covering his face with tingling fingers, he simultaneously tried to shield and muffle himself. Silence, silence! Silence and he might not put it on!

“Splendor -- Henrik, it’s an oxygen mask!” Marvin protested, looking stricken. “You’re having an asthma attack; this is going to calm it down!” When he realized his patient wasn’t listening, he set it aside, grasping his shoulders and earning a shrill little cry that hurt his heart. “Henrik. Henrik, it’s Marvin. Look at me, listen and following my breathing.”

It took everything he had not to scream and flail and cry on the hospital floor. The first layer of his composure had cracked as soon as he was in the taxi; the driver was giving him worried looks the whole way home and he couldn’t answer when he asked if he was alright. All he could do was scrub at the tears escaping. Now that he had finally, finally managed to scramble out of the car, stumble up the walkway and close the front door behind him -- he broke. 

“Henrik? Henrik, what’s wrong?!” Jackie’s alarmed tone only made him shudder harder as he dropped to the floor, hyperventilating, lightheaded as he curled his knees up to make himself small. Jackie knelt beside him without a second thought. “What happened?! Can you speak to me? Can I touch you?”

He nodded a wobbly “yes” just to make the questions stop. As Jackie drew him close, he stuttered tremulously, his lungs burning. “Patient -- The psych ward -- P-Put his hands around my throat a-and I -- I couldn’t -- ” He stopped there. Judging by the way Jackie’s arms tightened around him, he knew.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Henrik. You’re here now, you’re home safe. It’s over.”

Yeah, Schneep is pretty much the only one Jack will talk to about what he went through in his dreams. He’s the only one who can truly understand.