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A hand landed on his arm and he swung around, ready to fight for his life.
“Loki!”
They were calling for him.
“Ki-Ki, you’re safe. You’re safe!”
Tink?
“Isabelle, stay back!” a male voice barked.
Where was she? Where was his Tink?
A hand rested on his arm. He tensed, ready to strike.
“Tap!” Tink cried. “Two quick, one heavy and slow. Let me get close to him.”
“No, you stay where you are,” the man snapped.
Who was this fucker? Where did he get off talking to Loki’s girl like that?
A face flickered back and forth in front of him.
Remy. Enemy. Remy. Enemy.
What the fuck was real?
“Ki-Ki, you’re not there. Please.” The pain and fear in Isa’s voice helped him come back.
Another tap. Two quick, one heavier.
Fuck.
Flashback.
He dropped to his knees. Remy crouched next to him, a steadying hand on the back of his neck as he struggled to breathe.
Fuck. Was he going straight into a panic attack?
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
“Breathe, Loki,” Remy said in a firm voice. “You’re safe. You’re with us. You’re not there. Just breathe.”
“In, one two. Hold. Now out, one two.” Tink kneeled in front of him. Shit. She shouldn’t be kneeling on the hard ground. Especially in one of her favorite outfits.
That helped him more than anything else, weirdly enough.
“Sorry. Sorry,” he muttered.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Remy told him.
But what if he’d been here alone with Tink when this happened? Why had it happened, though?
Fuck, he hadn’t had a flashback in months, then two within a few days?
That just didn’t happen. Or it hadn’t in a long time.
Maybe it was all the changes.
