Mmm. [ Both of their eyes will need to readjust once Quentin turns the flashlight off, but Steve can certainly hear his wary grimace. It's always kind of touch or go to suggest this sort of thing to people from his time, but: ] I don't like that the bruise is still there, but I mean, how often do you have...panic attacks?
Panicwha--? ( Steve asks, articulate as ever, face scrunched up as his brain chugs somewhat over the meaning of simple words. panic attack i it takes longer than it should. his frustration is not immediate, but when it hits it is palpable. )
Panic attack. It wasn't — it was a robot attack, asshole. ( HE HAS BEEN VERY CLEAR ABOUT THIS HASN'T HE ??? this is not an PANIC attack, how can you panic about something that HAPPENED? )
Thanks, thanks for the clarification. Steve, I'm serious, what do you have, uh--
[ He takes a precautionary step back, both hands coming up for a second (easy, easy) before he counts off on his fingers: ] Agitation, obviously, since you're acting like a pill. Anxiety? Numb in the face, we know this. How's your chest feel? Is it tight?
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Panic attack. It wasn't — it was a robot attack, asshole. ( HE HAS BEEN VERY CLEAR ABOUT THIS HASN'T HE ??? this is not an PANIC attack, how can you panic about something that HAPPENED? )
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[ He takes a precautionary step back, both hands coming up for a second (easy, easy) before he counts off on his fingers: ] Agitation, obviously, since you're acting like a pill. Anxiety? Numb in the face, we know this. How's your chest feel? Is it tight?