3, bc I have terrible terrible plans
[ He's been here before. Some nights, ever since Nathan showed up in the dome, he can see the wet trickles of blood still clinging to his palms. It was years ago but he still remembers with absolute clarity, only partially aided by his eidetic memory. The emotional coding is stronger. Sensory memory clues. Olfactory. It doesn't take much to call it back up to the surface, barely anything since the teen dropped in with still-bandaged wrists.
And now they're here again, his hands clamped white-knuckled around Nathan's wrists, throat choked up with panic. ]
C'mon... stay with me. You've made it through before, you'll make it through again.