Karl couldn't breathe.

His head was spinning, thoughts tangled in knots he couldn't undo. He pressed his palms against his temples, trying to ground himself, but it wasn't working.

The whispers were still there, indistinct and jumbled. Not out loud, not in the room, but in his mind. He couldn't shake them.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Not real. Not real.

But the moment his eyelids closed, the whispers got louder.

His breath hitched. His whole body felt wrong, too light and too heavy at the same time, like he was slipping between being here and being somewhere else.

He didn't realize he was shaking until Nick touched his arm.

Karl flinched.

Nick didn't move away.

Karl forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly. His vision blurred, then cleared, and then—

Nick.

Sitting right in front of him, watching him carefully. Knees nearly touching. Real.

Karl inhaled sharply, his chest too tight. "I—I can't—"

Nick grabbed his wrists. Firm. Grounding. "Karl."

Karl swallowed, pulse erratic. "I don't know what's real anymore."

Nick's grip tightened just slightly. "Me. I'm real."

Karl let out a shaky breath.

Nick nodded. "You're real. I'm real. That's all that matters right now. Okay?"

Karl's heart stuttered.

He was right.

Nothing else made sense. Nothing else felt solid.

But Nick did.

Nick was warm. Steady. Here.

Karl shifted closer, barely thinking about it. His legs brushed against Nick's, and Nick didn't move away.

The space between them was barely there.

Karl's breathing slowed, but the haze in his mind didn't clear. He could still feel the weight of everything pressing down on him, like the walls were getting smaller, like the world outside was turning into nothing but static.

He needed to hold onto something.

He needed to stay here.

His hands curled around the fabric of Nick's hoodie. "Don't—" He didn't know how to finish the sentence.

Nick's gaze flickered, just for a second, before settling back on him. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Karl barely registered moving.

One second, they were sitting apart.

The next, Karl was pressing himself against Nick's side, burying his face into Nick's shoulder, gripping his hoodie like a lifeline.

Nick exhaled, slow and careful.

Then Karl felt it.

Nick relaxing.

His arms hesitated, just for a second. But then he shifted, adjusting so Karl could lean in fully.

His arms came up. One around Karl's shoulders. The other curled around his waist, solid and real and safe.

Karl squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on this.

The warmth of Nick's body against his. The steady rhythm of his breathing. The weight of his arms.

Nick was real.

Nothing else mattered.

Karl could feel Nick's fingers pressing into his back, not tight, but firm enough that Karl knew—Nick needed this too.

Maybe just as much as he did.

Karl swallowed. "This is stupid."

Nick let out a breathy laugh, barely above a whisper. "Yeah."

Neither of them moved.

Karl shifted slightly, pressing his face further into the fabric of Nick's hoodie. Nick smelled like something familiar. Like worn cotton and faint cologne and something else Karl couldn't name.

It was grounding.

His fingers clenched around the material.

Nick rubbed slow circles into his back, absentminded, like it was second nature.

Karl exhaled, deep and shaky. "We're so screwed."

Nick hummed. "Yeah."

They didn't let go.