Happy Monday, all. Alright, so this chapter takes us up to the point where Lauren's POV ended. Full disclosure, I've never had a panic attack myself, so I don't know how the accuracy of those are, but hey, I've also never dated a woman so I guess this whole story is gamble. Hope everyone is still enjoying - I also came in to my office today and threw out the whole ending so I'm writing it now and hopefully will be able to put it up without disruption since I have a few days before it'll be time for that. Okay, here we go, enjoy!

Today

Bo roughly pushed her mother ahead of her, propelling her forward. Distantly, she heard the bar door fall closed behind her. "I fucking told you not to come here," Bo spat out. "I told you –"

"I needed to see you, baby, I just needed…you stopped taking my calls, and I needed –"

"And you didn't take that as a fucking HINT?" Bo fired back. "I. Do not. Want you. Here." Bo felt herself shaking with adrenaline and rage. She felt hatred. She felt fear. She's too close to Lauren. She cannot be this close to Lauren.

"I told you not to come! Why won't you just leave me alone?!"

"He'll kill me, and you know it! I don't know why you want me to die but I'm fighting just to survive!"

Bo felt seething anger. "I almost think you believe that. Almost."

Bo's mother began to cry, and Bo flinched, hearing the familiar sound, hating how it instantly took her back to so many moments of her childhood. As the sobs rang out in the empty lot, Bo involuntarily thought of Valentina Davis, of the sounds of her screaming loudly, exclaiming what happened to my babies, what happened to my babies… A chill prickled along Bo's spine.

"Just some goddamn money, alright?" her mother choked out. "I just need a bump to –"

"No one is giving you money," the deep voice of Dyson boomed out from behind Bo and she startled like it was a gunshot. A ringing sounded in her ears, a dull sound that made everything feel distant and obscured. She felt her heartrate rapidly speed and sweat bead on her brow. Get her away from Lauren. GET HER AWAY.

"Dyson?" her mother said, her voice sounding vague and wistful, the tears halted immediately as her mother forgot to keep up the act. "Is that you?"

"Get the hell off my property," he answered, his voice straining with barely contained anger.

Dammit, why wasn't she leaving? Bo became aware that she felt as if she was floating. It was like she observing herself from a height, standing on a building and looking down. The world was…wrong. Different. She looked down at her hands and noted that they seemed at least two inches further away than they should be. She felt herself shivering even as the sweat continued. It was so hot, and she was freezing. She was burning on flames of ice. She cast her eyes around the mostly empty parking lot, her mind reeling, trying to grasp onto any piece of reality she could verify. This couldn't be real.

Logical impossibilities all around. Nothing about was right. What was the most logical solution, then? That it wasn't real. Alright, now she had a thesis, now there was a theory. Now she only had to confirm it, and everything would snap back to the way it should be, and she would wake up next to Lauren and Zeus would be snoring in the corner.

Could her mother be here? Yes. She knew Bo owned a bar, and knew, at least roughly, what town it would be in. A simple Google search could lead to it. Alright, verifiable, simple enough…that isn't it then. If this isn't real, that wasn't the unreal thing. That wasn't the trigger. Was she the right height? Was her face right? It seemed like her mother. The stale smell of menthol cigarettes made her eyes water, or was that sweat? God, she was freezing. Her hair was lanky, oily, but was it the right color? It was lighter than before, greyer…logical. Understandable. Not impossible. Not the right answer.

She cast her eyes around the lot. "How did you get here?" Bo murmured to herself. "That doesn't make sense. There is no bus stop here. You don't have money for an Uber. This isn't real; you aren't here." There it was…that had to be the reality, right? How could her mother have arrived here tonight? She couldn't have. This must be a dream then; this wasn't real. This was another nightmare, and soon she would wake up and go for a run. She would go through the neighborhood and not see her mother. This would end in a moment. She just needed to wake up.

"I stole his car," her mother said vaguely, waving her hand toward a beater that had been haphazardly pulled into a parking spot in the middle of the lot. "I just…I just need…"

Bo wasn't listening. Her eyes soaked in every detail of a car, a car she was certain she had never seen before tonight. Could she be dreaming it if she had never seen it before? It wasn't a special car, and it seemed solid enough… The state on the plates checked out. The condition was what she would have expected of her parents. But those are details you know, they are already in your mind. Those couldn't be trusted, then. Not all of her senses could be believed. If she tried touch the car would it slide away like water?She tapped her fingers together and the sensation registered on a delay like a television broadcast.

"This isn't real. You aren't here." Stay with the thesis. Stay on point. Her voice was alien even to herself, far away and faint. She wondered if she could scream, and didn't try for fear that only silence would echo back. If she tried to run would her legs break? If she took a breath would she smell the outdoors, or would she be rocketed back to some moment of her childhood? If she squeezed her eyes shut, would she be back in her mother's kitchen, with the full ashtray threatening to spill onto the table, the stove cold with disuse? "This isn't real. You aren't real. Nothing is real."

"Bo?" Kenzi's voice was quiet as she slowly moved towards Bo, but to Bo's haywire senses it was as loud as a jet engine. She startled with force and jumped, her heart beating hard enough that she wasn't sure if her shirt was moving with it. She felt sweat dripping down her back and shivered with a sudden blast of cold emitting from the depths of nowhere. Kenzi's voice. How old would Kenzi be? Was this child Kenzi, like the Ghost of Christmas Past? Her eyes snapped to find herand she saw Kenzi, adult Kenzi, raise her hands in mock defense, her face looking stricken and concerned. The look of fear on Kenzi's face did nothing to assuage her galloping heart, and her sweating intensified.

What was happening? Why was it so cold? Why were her palms sweating? She struggled in a shallow breath and felt terror sink through her as it didn't fill her lungs. Why couldn't see breathe? Why couldn't she breathe? WHY COULDN'T SHE BREATHE?!

"Lauren…" Kenzi said, still staring at Bo, her hands still raised, as she remained perfectly still.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Bo's mother interjected, advancing forward three steps and placing her hand on Bo's shoulder as she rounded to Bo's side.

At the touch, Bo felt the bile roil in her stomach. She felt her throat constrict and blackness tint the edge of her vision. Her legs were nothing now, but somehow they held and she desperately heard the word air, air, air echoing to no avail in her mind. She felt herself shrink and twist, desperate to not be touched by her mother, desperate to hang on to her theory that none of this was real.

"Not real not real not real not real…" she heard herself chant.

You're dying a voice in her head whispered. This is what it feels like at the end. You're going to die, right here in this parking lot. It's all over now. There's nothing left but this. You're dying now. You're dying. You're dying. Red and blue, red and blue, red and no more life for you…

Bo squeezed her eyes shut as the world tilted over, spinning like a toy in the hands of reckless child.

"Get your fucking hands off my wife," a voice said from somewhere far away, and suddenly her mother wasn't touching her anymore. Her hands, papery thin, fell away, insubstantial. Wake up or die, wake up or die, wake up or die.

Or was she still touching her? Bo suddenly realized she couldn't tell. She couldn't feel her own hands; how would she know if she could feel her mother's? Everything around her was vapor-like, spray paint on a breeze.

She wanted to claw at her throat for air, but she had no hands. She wanted to vomit, but she had no mouth. She wanted to run, but she had no legs.

"Bo, look at me," the voice said. The voice was angelic; it was a siren song. Bo wanted to comply, to sink into it, to be carried away by its melodic promises. It's a lie, it's not real, none of this is real, this is all a mirage. Bo did not comply. It isn't real, it isn't real, none of this is real, there is nothing real but air, air, air, that you cannot have, that you cannot take in…nothing is real, nothing was ever real, there is nothing left, there is no air to breathe and you will die in the vacuum of space because none of this was ever here, none of it was ever real, and you were dying the entire time. The need to breathe was too urgent. The terror sliced through her as the air didn't come, her breaths shallow and ineffectual. She needed this to be real, so she could draw air into her lungs. She needed this to be a dream, so she could wake herself up. She needed this to end, so the agony would stop.

"BO." Her eyes fired open to the voice and she saw Lauren staring at her, the only still point in a swirling vortex. The last thing she would see before she died. Lauren. Was Lauren real?

"I need to help my daughter!" her mother cried out. Bo felt her chest cave in as she involuntarily tried to make herself smaller. Her entire being tried to minimize, if she could just shrink down enough that no one could see her then she could make sense of this. Then she could breathe. Her mother came into her focus again, her hand reaching out across Bo's limited field of vision, her fingers like tentacles, wraithlike, approaching Lauren…

At the sight, Bo wrenched to the side, lurching away from her mother, and vomited on the ground, falling to her hands and knees after it. Not Lauren, not Lauren, don't touch Lauren… This thing, this cancer, was too close to her. If this…being…made contact with Lauren, she was certain she would die. Was Lauren even real? She didn't know, but she knew down to a cellular level that if this aberration touched Lauren, that would be the end of it all. She was shaking, almost crawling, desperate for distance between her and the demon wearing her mother's skin.

Lauren immediately slapped Bo's mother's hand away and dropped to the ground beside Bo. "Nate, Dyson, get her the fuck out of here, I swear to God," Lauren spat out, her hands already reaching out to steady Bo in any way that she could, trying to stop her, trying to anchor her in place.

The image of Lauren's hand connecting with her mother's froze in her mind like snapshot, and Bo stopped trying to breathe for a moment as she prepared for the world to end, as she waited for Lauren's fingers to turn necrotic and blow away like ash.

"I'm not leaving my daughter!"

Bo whimpered at the response as her heart pounded wildly within her, searching for an escape. Suddenly she was a child again. Suddenly she was trapped. No air came and she was a caged animal with no recourse or escape. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, begging the universe to just give her a sip of air, just a sip, just stop the pain for a moment…

Lauren took Bo's face in her hands. "Bo, I need you to open your eyes, okay? I need you to look at me." Her voice was gentle and even, soothing. Everything was wrong, everything was horrible, everything, everything, except for that voice. Siren or not, Bo needed to comply. There was no other option.

With great difficulty, Bo forced her eyes open. They landed on Lauren, backlit by the lights on the outside of the bar, making her hair shine like a halo around her. The colors were too bright, too vivid, too intense, and Bo felt herself shrinking back.

"Can't…I can't…air…" Bo gritted out, her head swimming, the dizziness nearly taking her over. She felt herself listing to the side, or maybe it was the ground tipping beneath her.

Lauren grabbed one of Bo's hands and placed it on her own chest, covering it, and then used her other hand to place on Bo's chest. "I need you to breathe. You can do it. Just do what I do. Okay? Breathe with me. You can do this. Just breathe with me." With that, Lauren took an exaggerated breath under Bo's hand.

Bo tried to mimic the action, her own breath rapid and shallow, but somehow enough air to buy Bo a few more precious seconds. Lauren felt so solid, so real, her chest expanding and contracting beneath Bo's frozen fingers. Nothing is real, but I want to die in this illusion.

"Good, good," Lauren encouraged. "Again, do it again."

They repeated the exercise.

Painfully, glacially slowly, Bo felt air slip back into her lungs. It cut a path forward, eviscerating the tissue of her throat as it edged its way down. Her lungs inflated and it was pure agony. It was pure bliss.

"Just let me take care of my daughter!" she heard her mother shout out. At the sound of her mother's voice, Bo felt the need to be sick again. A heave rose and she bent lower to the ground, her forehead nearly on the pavement.

Before she could make it to the ground, Lauren placed her hands under Bo's chin and held Bo's face in her hands. With gentle pressure she lifted Bo back up. "Bo, I need you to listen to me," she said, keeping her voice perfectly calm. "This is a panic attack. Okay? This is what a panic attack feels like. You're going to be okay. I just need you to do what I tell you. Can you do that?"

"My mother…"

"Your mother is leaving," Lauren said, shooting a meaningful look at someone behind them. "It's just us here. You're going to be fine. You're here with me. This is just a panic attack, and we're going to get through it. Do you understand?"

The world was off balance and everything was too bright and everything was far away. Nothing was okay. Nothing would be okay. Everything was –

"Bo, baby, come back to me," Lauren said, her voice urgent but gentle. "I need you to focus on my voice and do what I tell you to do."

"Are you real?" Bo croaked out, her last bit of air being used on the words.

Lauren rubbed a thumb across Bo's cheek. "I'm real. I'm here. And I'm going to help you. Okay?"

With Herculean strength, Bo nodded, feeling her stomach rock as if seasick when she did.

"I need you to look around, okay? I need you tell me where we are. I need you tell me five things you can see right now, okay?"

Bo forced her eyes open against the harsh glare of life. Tears swam in her vision, making the world blur. "I can…I can…the Dal. I can see the Dal."

Lauren nodded. "Good, that's great, Bo. What else can you see?"

"You," Bo said, her eyes dropping to the ground. She saw Lauren, the only thing she wished to be real. She felt her body violently shaking and dimly wondered if it was from cold, or if she was on fire. She felt goosebumps on her arms and felt water drip down her face, though if it was sweat or tears she couldn't say. "I…I see…dirt."

"You're doing a great job, Bo. Tell me what else. Two more things, okay?"

"Cars," Bo added. She struggled to suck in another breath, felt it cut its way to her lungs, slicing away tissue to make room for itself. She felt the lump back in throat and began to wonder if it was blood or vomit. "And…and…my legs." She was leaned over, seeing the dirt and acid bile smeared on her knees.

Lauren nodded. "Okay. Okay, that's really good, Bo. Now you're going to tell me four things you can feel, alright? Can you do that for me?"

Bo wanted to cry. The world was too much, and it was ending anyway. She wanted to collapse into this illusion of Lauren and die in its embrace. She fought through another breath, willing the mirage of Lauren to remain. "Your hands. And…the ground." She breathed again, and Lauren moved a hand up and down her arm, rubbing her slightly. "My…my sleeves. They moved." They moved. They moved. The mirage made them move.

Lauren nodded. "Okay. One more thing, baby."

A breeze came by, and Bo sucked it in, stars exploding behind her eyes. She steeled herself against the pain as it fought its way through her throat. "The wind," Bo said, after a beat of recovery from the agony.

"Great. Three things you can hear, alright?"

"JUST LET ME HELP MY GODDAMN DAUGHTER!"

Bo looked into Lauren's eyes, relieve to see that Lauren still existed, at least for another moment. "My mother."

A look of steel flashed in Lauren's gaze and she once again fixed her eyes on a point behind Bo. "Yes. I hear that, too."

There was a shuffling behind Bo, noise that was indistinct. "Crying…"

Lauren nodded. "Nate and Dyson are making your mother leave. She's leaving." Lauren lifted her gaze away from Bo again. "Do you understand?" she said, harshly. "She is leaving. For good." At the tone in Lauren's voice Bo felt herself flinch back.

"Anger," she whispered, and now there wasn't a question as to whether tears were slipping down her face. She saw them drop onto the ground, dissipate into the tar and chip. "I hear anger." She took another breath and with sagging relief felt it slip easier into her body.

She felt Lauren lean closer to her, repositioning her knees to make it easier for her to interact with Bo. When she spoke again, her tone was smooth again, calm, a balm on the horror of what was happening. "What are two things you can smell?" she gently asked.

"Cigarettes," Bo answered. She shuddered. Her mother's. Menthol. Her mother's yellowed nails came to her mind, the cracked skin of her fingers, the track marks on her arms. She squeezed her eyes shut and fought the image back, a dry heave working its way from her as she was trying to comply with Lauren's request. "And…wet dirt. Dew."

Lauren stroked a hand gently on Bo's cheek. "You're doing so well," she encouraged. Her voice was soft and loving, and Bo felt tears come faster as she desperately tried to hang on to the sound. She felt like a child, and the sensation sent a terror through her anew that she would awake in her mother's house. "Just tell me one last one, okay? Is there anything you can taste?"

Bo opened her eyes and found the world was ever so slightly less tilted. The colors were calmer now, more in line with reality. She eagerly took another breath and centered her gaze on Lauren, feeling relief flood her that Lauren was still there, that she could still feel Lauren's hands, that she appeared to, somehow, magically, be real. She sucked in another stuttering breath and then answered, "vomit."

Lauren nodded. Behind them, they could hear Dyson and Nate continuing to argue with Bo's mother. "She has warrants," Bo said, quietly. Her eyes falling shut again as she took another breath, feeling it come slightly easier. "Can you…please can you…I need to…inside. Tell Kenzi. Call the cops."

Lauren nodded, standing and wrapping her arm around Bo to help lift her, to take on her sagging weight to help her propel her legs forward. Stumbling, lurching, they made their way towards the door. As the approached Kenzi, Lauren extended a hand to her and whispered Bo's message.

"BO! I JUST NEED YOUR HELP! BO!"

An involuntary shake rocked Bo again, and she felt Lauren hold her tighter as Bo fought the vomit back, the tears still streaming down her face as she begged every god she could ever recall hearing about to make Lauren stay real as her mother faded away.

The door to the bar swung shut behind them, submerging them in merciful silence.

Once inside, Kenzi crossed to the bar to called the police while Lauren sat Bo in a booth. She slid in beside her, continuing to help her through the remnants of the panic attack.

After a few minutes, or maybe hours, or maybe days, had passed, the door to the bar opened and Lauren saw Officer White, the young officer who had apparently tried to hit on her at the hospital just about a week ago, stride in. He took a glance at Lauren and Bo and stopped. Bo had not registered his presence, her eyes closed as she continued to take in air, to calm her racing heart. White gave a small smile and short nod to Lauren, and when Lauren acknowledge it with a grateful look he walked out without a word. She silently wanted to thank him for not approaching Bo to make her face her colleagues like this, but for also making sure they knew her mother was off the premises.

The panic attack now abating, Bo took another breath, wondering how she had ever taken such an amazing ability for granted as she felt her lungs expand with air. Bo sagged back against the wall, her nerves still jumping. Beside her, Lauren traced patters on Bo's arms, the touch further grounding Bo in reality. "Hey, Lauren?" Bo said, shivering slightly as the sweat dried on her skin.

She heard the exhaustion in Lauren's voice. "Yeah?"

"I think I might be ready to talk about therapy now."

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