Book 2: Kaleidoscope

Chapter 3: Testing, testing

***Content Warning: Slight claustrophobia, mentions of being buried but it isn't what you think, it's very mild and meant not to be scary, but it is only briefly mentioned near the end (ish) of the chapter. Nonetheless, take care of yourself. Also, vague mentions of things related to PTSD and having to deal with it.***

I stand on the bridge with my arms wrapped around Pidge, holding her tightly as she sobs into my shirt. Her grip on my back is like claws digging into the skin but I couldn't care less as thoughts, mixtures of surprised, frustration, confusion, but most prominently righteous rage, race through my head.

She's having the dreams.

She's having those dreams.

This can't be right. There's got to be something else, it can't possibly be like my dreams... But based on how hard she's crying...

Oh God, what if they are?

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask her in a soft voice, barely audible over her rapid breaths. They're growing shorter, choppier, I can feel her chest heaving. Worried, I pull away a little bit and hold her shoulders. Tears are streaming down her face and she wipes her eyes with the long sleeve of her hoodie but her breathing doesn't subside, it escalates, getting more and more out of control.

"Pidge, look at me." I murmur in a soft, gentle voice, and when her hazel eyes meet mine, red rimmed and unhidden by her glasses now tucked in her hoodie pocket, I continue, "Breathe. Breathe with me."

She hiccups as I use a hand to demonstrate, taking a deep breath in and then letting it out slowly. She attempts to copy me but each breath is ragged, rasping and choppy, still out of control. Slowly I guide her backwards towards my chair at the back of the room, touching her shoulders to encourage her to sit. She complies quickly, still trying to return her breathing to normal but it keeps getting interrupted by hiccups and spontaneous sobs like crackles in an old mic.

"I need- hn- my inhaler." Pidge whispers, her voice is hoarse and shaky. My memory suddenly sparks to Olkarion, when Pidge mentioned her asthma being one of the reasons why she hates nature. At the time I said to myself, aw man how unfortunate and then forgot about it.

Fucking shit! I don't want to leave her alone, but I can't let her go without- Fuck, alright-

I open my mouth to speak when the door to the bridge in front of me suddenly opens. I look up and meet Keith's indigo gaze as he halts, peering at me with wide eyes. He's changed out of his flight suit and is wearing instead that goddamn jacket- he's analyzed the situation before him quickly and immediately takes a retreating step back. "Oh, I-"

I hold up my hand to him to indicate him to stay put. His mouth clamps shut and fortunately he stops moving to leave, so I shift to kneel in front of Pidge and looking at her with a serious, yet gentle gaze, "Where is it? Your inhaler?"

Pidge struggles, her breath comes in rugged, choppy gasps like an old car, the kind that still runs on gas, before she can sputter, "My... room. Backpack... hah... Center pock..." She's cut off by another wheezing breath broken with a sob.

I look up over the seat at Keith; as soon as our eyes meet his expression immediately morphs to determination, he nods in understanding as he turns on heel and sprints down the hall towards our rooms. I refocus my gaze back on Pidge and squeeze her hands in both of mine, internally letting out a breath of relief. Thank God he showed up when he did, how opportune. She takes shaky breaths, out of natural rhythm and shallow, far too shallow to be normal, and I try my best to keep her calm while we wait for Keith to come back with her inhaler. Hurry. "It'll be alright, Pidge. You're alright." I murmur, watching her with full attention and worry as she breathes and hiccups around a sob. Her eyelashes flutter as her head lolls forward a little, she hiccups around another sob and immediately I reach up and grab her shoulder to keep her steady. "Don't get light headed on me, now. Stay with me."