Tooru wasn't sure for how long he had slept – the concept of time gets fuzzy easily when you're sleeping in the middle of the day – but he woke up to odd noises like someone was gasping for breath. At first, he thought it was a part of his dream that escaped his memory as soon as he gained consciousness, and he just rolled over on the sofa and closed his eyes again.

The gasping continued, and this time it was definitely coming from the real world around him. Confused and disoriented he raised his head off the lumpy pillow and looked around the room. It sounded like it was coming from –

Oh, shit. The blanket twisted around Tooru's torso and feet and almost tripped him as he dashed to the bed where Hajime was sleeping.

The sight paralyzed him with fright at first. Hajime was on his back, just like Tooru had seen him before falling asleep, but his whole body was rigid. He was grasping the sheets so tight Tooru could see the taut muscles of his forearms, there was a wild look in his wide eyes as they stared at nothing, and he was sucking in air with such big gasps his whole chest was heaving like a fish on dry land.

Shit, shit, shit. Okay.

"Hajime, Hajime, calm down," Tooru said and sat on the edge of the bed. He tried his best to keep his voice steady and act like he knew what he was doing. Faking confidence always eventually got him there. "Hey, hey – shhh, it's okay, just calm down."

He might as well have told that to the wall, it would have helped the situation just as much. Calm down and think, he told himself instead. He grabbed Hajime's shoulders and gave him a little shake.

"Hajime, listen to me. Can you hear me?" No reaction. Tooru's fingers dug into the soft flesh of the shoulders. "Listen, you're having a panic attack. Whatever you're imagining, it's not real. You're okay. I'm right here, I'm gonna help you, so just..."

Sorry about this…

Nimbly Tooru climbed on top of Hajime and straddled his middle, careful to hold his weight off his stomach. Not giving himself a chance to hesitate he placed his hand over Hajime's gasping mouth and sealed it shut. He could feel the ridge of Hajime's front teeth pressing against the flat of his palm and the angry, warm puffs of air swirling against the side of his hand. All this seemed to finally reach Hajime through the panic haze. His eyes ceased to rapidly roll in their sockets and nailed to Tooru. In passing, Tooru noticed his eyes were so dark brown they were almost black.

"It's okay, you're okay. Just breathe through your nose."

Hajime's fingers clasped around Tooru's forearm and tugged it to try to free his mouth under Tooru's palm.

"I know, I'm sorry, but you gotta calm down. Just calm down."

Hajime's wide eyes narrowed into pleading slits and he tugged Tooru's forearm again, but Tooru held on. It told its own sad story how tightly the terror and panic had Hajime in their pinch because Tooru didn't doubt he could've pushed him off in a fair fight.

"You're okay, everything's fine," Tooru repeated over and over. It was more to calm his own racing heart than Hajime. With his free hand, he reached down to stroke Hajime's hair that oil and sweat had mushed into lumps.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay."

As Tooru kept stroking and babbling, the panic in Hajime's eyes slowly cleared and his breathing evened out. The puffs against Tooru's hand fell into a rhythm. The tension of his muscles eased, and he started to tremble under him. He gave Tooru's hand one last tug, and this time Tooru released his hold. Hajime wiped his mouth with shaking hands and closed his eyes.

"You okay?"

"Get off me," Hajime said with a hoarse voice.

"Oh, yeah, sure." Suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed Tooru dismounted Hajime and took his previous seat on the edge of the mattress. "How you feeling?"

"What are ya doing in my room?"

"You passed out at the bar, and I helped to carry you back to your bed. They wanted to call the cops, but I talked them out of it."

Hajime glanced at him like he didn't quite believe Tooru's story. "Thanks. I guess."

"You're welcome. Then I thought I'd clean up a bit."

Hajime's head shot up, and a nasty glare was thrown at Tooru. "You went through my stuff?"

"The air was so thick it was hard to breathe in here! I just got rid of the trash, that's all. Anyway, are you feeling better? You want some water?"

"I'm fine, you can leave now."

"Was that a panic attack? Do you have them a lot?"

"I said I'm fine. Thanks for everything." Hajime covered his eyes with his forearm as if to shut out the whole world. "Now stop bugging me and go back to wherever you came from."

Tooru stood up and walked over to the sink. "No can do. I promised Mattsun I'd help you sober up," he said over the running water as he soaked the kitchen towel.

Hajime was silent for a while before rising to the bait. "Mattsun was here? When?"

"Earlier in the morning. You were still out of it. We talked a little, and – "

"What did you talk about?" Hajime interrupted him and rose to lean back against his elbows.

Tooru wrung the towel and went back to the bed. "This and that. The baby, you." He reached to pat Hajime's sweaty throat and face with the cool towel, but Hajime pulled back and pushed Tooru's hand away.

"What did he say?"

"He was sorry he hadn't been visiting you as he promised." For a moment, Tooru hesitated whether or not he should tell Hajime about the baby. "It's just that they did some routine tests at the clinic, and it seems like there's something wrong with the baby. They think she might be born disabled."

The annoyance between Hajime's brows melted away to give room for worry. "Was he alright?"

"He looked tired but otherwise fine. It's gonna be a big change for the whole family, but – well, there's not much anyone can do about it."

"I should give him a call."

"How about we give them some room? I understand that you're worried, but – and I know this sounds blunt – but your situation seems to just add to his burden." Tooru braced for the angry blow, and Hajime's face darkened again.

"How about stay out of other people's business? This has nothing to do with you."

"Yeah, it does, he's my friend, too. And I promised to help him. He has enough on his plate right now to have time to deal with you, and deep down, you know I'm right."

Hajime's eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.

"Now, whether you like it or not, I'm gonna keep my promise and help you sober up. If you wanna be there for Mattsun, I suggest you get on with the program." Tooru knew guilt-tripping wasn't fair, but it seemed like fair hadn't really worked so far. "And we're gonna start by changing the sheets and getting you some dry clothes, you sweated buckets. Here, wipe yourself a little while I'll go to my room to get dry sheets and clothes. I assume it's been a while since you've done any laundry."

Before Hajime could argue Tooru was out the door and he was left in the bed holding a soaked kitchen towel. For a while, he was tempted to limp to the door and lock it, but he didn't trust his feet to carry him yet. Not that it would have mattered anyway, Tooru would have just gotten the clerk to open the door for him. Because apparently, they had all joined forces and ganged up against Hajime. Like he had ever asked for anyone's concern.

Mattsun flashed in Hajime's mind, and his defiant shoulders sunk. No matter how hard Hajime wanted to fight him, Tooru had been right. If he wanted Mattsun to rely on him, he needed to be reliable, and right now – well, for a while now – he had been anything but. Mattsun's life was about to change its course entirely, and Hajime wasn't going to let him face that alone even if it meant he had to put up with his nosy friend.

By the time Tooru got back Hajime had wiggled out of his wet clothes sticky with sweat and wiped himself with the cold towel. When the door opened, he hurriedly pulled the blanket to cover his nakedness and the leg.

"Oh." Tooru's steps halted and he quickly averted his eyes.

"You don't know how to knock?!"

"Sorry."

"It's still my room, you know."

"I said I'm sorry! Geez." He tossed the fresh t-shirt and a pair of boxers to him. "Here, I think these should fit." While Hajime changed Tooru turned around and listened to the bed creaking and rustling of clothes.

"Done."

Hajime had dragged himself to the dry side of the bed, and Tooru set to change the sheets. He tried not to pay attention to how good Hajime looked in his plain black shirt even in his disheveled state or that the blanket was still covering everything below his waist. He could make out the outlines of his foot and a half. The blanket fell unnaturally flat where there should have been the rest of his right leg.

"You wanna talk about the panic attack?"

Hajime scoffed. "I'm tired and hungover, so either get out or shut up." He flopped down and turned his back to Tooru. He was facing the mirror doors of the wardrobe, and Tooru caught his reflection looking at him. When their eyes met, Hajime quickly averted his gaze.

"If you need anything, let me know. I'm gonna go get rid of these," he said to the stubborn back, bundled the wet beddings under his arm and went to look for the laundry shaft.