Neon Lights

26

"Time's up," the man said, his voice deadly low. "You're useless to me if you're not going to speak."

With heart racing and panic now fully taking over him, Callisto let out a short whimper and blurted out, "You took the research notes! I don't know what the hell you're saying!"

There was a moment of silence before the man hissed, "Those weren't the research notes. If they were, why would I come here and see your pathetic self?"

"Then I don't know what to tell you! You took them from me. Those were the notes I had with me and I know they're the notes because I took them out of the lab when I wasn't supposed to."

Callisto didn't know if his words were getting through, but he hoped the desperation in his voice at least attested to the fact he wasn't lying. He hoped. For a few seconds, the silence in the air was suspenseful. Half of his brain was used to force air into and out of his lungs so he wouldn't faint from the quickly approaching hyperventilation.

Then, the grip on his neck loosened and he was turned around, eye to eye with the man looming over him. Immediately meeting his gaze, his entire body locked up on itself, the familiar paralysing feeling washed over him. The panic that had been slowly coming now surged through him like a tidal wave. He tried to move his limbs but nothing cooperated.

After a second, the feeling died away and Callisto turned to his side, hauling himself from under the man and scrambled backwards until his back his the other wall, furthest from the intruder. With wide eyes, he placed a hand against his chest and knees curled closer to his body, breathing harshly.

"You're not lying," the man said, still crouched one knee on the floor. The green eyes continued to track Callisto, making him feel like he was an ant about to be crushed by a big boot.

The words he wanted to say were hard to get out when his vision was blurring and he was almost gasping for air. A constricted pain echoed from his chest, making him whimper even more. The panic continued to surge through him without mercy. He closed his eyes shut, trying to compartmentalise the pain that he was going through.

What did his therapist teach him again?

He couldn't remember. Nothing popped into his head and the lack of clarity on how to make this stop made him breathe harsher.

Can't breathe, can't breathe, it hurt—

A warmth on his forehead, forcing his head to tip back and meet the green eyes had him forgetting how to breathe altogether. The pain echoed throughout his body and he was close to letting the darkness ebbing at the edge of his vision to consume him.

And then the man said, "Breathe."

For a while, he couldn't process the word. And then as if something snapped into him, he opened his mouth and took in a deep breath, startling a coughing fit as he tried to get as much air as he could into him. The muddiness in his mind ebbed away slowly as the warmth on his forehead, a hand from the other man, continued to ground him to reality.

It felt like ages before he could gather himself. His body was shaking by the end of it, the nausea coming forefront in his mind as he tried to resist himself from gagging. By the time he was able to settle himself, tears ran down his cheeks and he was pushing himself flat against the wall, feeling hot and sticky.

Callisto had a panic attack.

That much was clear.

And this man was still touching him. As if the person before him noticed his shift in thoughts, the warm touch was taken away. "You're a mess," said the person who triggered that messy response in Callisto.

"What," Callisto whispered, throat feeling sore. What exactly happened? Coming down from a panic attack wasn't the easiest thing for him to do.

"I helped you, so you can say your thanks now," the man said, rolling his green eyes. "What a useless waste of space. I'm not here to be your therapist. Can't believe I wasted my time coming here." He stood up then, shaking his head.

Callisto furrowed his eyebrows. "I—"

"If those research notes are not with you, then who the hell has them?" the man said, almost talking to himself as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"What research notes?" Callisto said, at last. "What happened and why—"

"Stop talking," the man said, prompting him to shut up. "Geez, what the hell. You're supposed to be Luna's brother but why are you so dim? I really thought..."

Her name.

Callisto's eyes widened at the mention of her name and he scrambled to sit up straighter. "Luna? You know Luna?"

Those neon green eyes immediately met his and there was a deadly silence in the air. After a few seconds, the man said, "If I didn't know her, why would I go through all this trouble in finding you and threatening you?"

And while the tone of his voice was akin to him speaking to a child, Callisto still took the words in and paused at them.

This man knew Luna.

Was that also why he was at her place the last time he saw him?