Raylan Givens did not recognize what a panic attack was, in his own form, but Roman was still exactly right, in fact. Raylan's blood was already up, pulse unnaturally fast amid all his singular focus on not letting his brain get out of control but he forced his breaths to be even and deep.
Deep breaths helped any rough situation.
The 'Whoa, Hey' makes Raylan jump a little, hands spreading to look up and over at Roman as he comes closer before close it all down again to the way he was before. In with the good air, out with the bad; like he had done all his life. The kneejerk reaction was one of shame - people weren't meant to see him like this. He was supposed to be strong. Unmoveable. Unrelenting.
Roman and his action plan was actually very helpful. Yes, good. Something to do. Something that wasn't dealing with this feeling and the 500 pound elephant that was sitting on his chest. He nods and then nods again, hands dropping as he nods a third time before his head leans back against the door, unable to even huff half a laugh at Roman's comment about snapping in two.
"He does weigh half a ton when he's unconscious," Raylan breathes out with yet another nod as he pushes himself and his lean frame to his feet. It would never NOT look odd, a man of his size but up he got anyway.
No, he could do this. One thing at a time. Flint needed to be put to bed and Roman was willing to help.
"You uh-" He scratches at his forehead with his thumb before gesturing at James. "Don't know that the chair will fit through the door but we can probably like, carry him that far and then.." And then haul James into bed by his shoulders and feet.
But after they got him in, Raylan wasn't quite sure what he was going to do. He had to talk to Roman about what happened. Had to summon up the stones and whiskey if they even dared trust that.
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Deep breaths helped any rough situation.
The 'Whoa, Hey' makes Raylan jump a little, hands spreading to look up and over at Roman as he comes closer before close it all down again to the way he was before. In with the good air, out with the bad; like he had done all his life. The kneejerk reaction was one of shame - people weren't meant to see him like this. He was supposed to be strong. Unmoveable. Unrelenting.
Roman and his action plan was actually very helpful. Yes, good. Something to do. Something that wasn't dealing with this feeling and the 500 pound elephant that was sitting on his chest. He nods and then nods again, hands dropping as he nods a third time before his head leans back against the door, unable to even huff half a laugh at Roman's comment about snapping in two.
"He does weigh half a ton when he's unconscious," Raylan breathes out with yet another nod as he pushes himself and his lean frame to his feet. It would never NOT look odd, a man of his size but up he got anyway.
No, he could do this. One thing at a time. Flint needed to be put to bed and Roman was willing to help.
"You uh-" He scratches at his forehead with his thumb before gesturing at James. "Don't know that the chair will fit through the door but we can probably like, carry him that far and then.." And then haul James into bed by his shoulders and feet.
But after they got him in, Raylan wasn't quite sure what he was going to do. He had to talk to Roman about what happened. Had to summon up the stones and whiskey if they even dared trust that.