(2018-12-02) Just Breathe
Panic Attacks, Neurologists and chocolate.

It's warmer outside today, and some of the snow has even melted. After dealing with some mundane matters, Katherine decided to hide out for a bit, so she sits on the old backyard swing, chicken feed in her palm. She slowly scatters it on the ground, watching as the chickens move to snatch up each each bit of food, clucking quietly. There is a goat around here somewhere, probably playing with Charlotte further out in the yard.

Warren came through the house, drawing his way from the great room through to the kitchen, fully expecting to see Katherine there cooking her little heart out. So there was a touch of bewilderment when he found it empty, and had it not been for a quick glance out the kitchen window? He may have left altogether. But he sees her out there, upon the swing, and thus the backyard door is opened and out he steps. "Mornin', Kate. Sorry to intrude," he calls out to her, stepping out onto the porch. He carries with him a little rectangular box.

Kate looks up when Warren steps out into the back yard, smiling in his direction. "When would you ever been intruding?" She asks, still swinging slowly as she scatters feed from her hands. "If you're here for breakfast, or coffee, there is some on the warmer in there." She shrugs, glancing down at the ground. "I'm mostly empty now, so there is /plenty/ for you to eat." She lets the last of the feed drop from her palm before she looks up again. "What do you have there?"

"You do sorta look like you're enjoyin' your alone time," Warren says with a slow chuckle, coming down off the porch and into the backyard proper. "I'm not here for breakfast, but thank you as always. You said the other day you needed to talk to somebody," he rolls his shoulders back, "So if you still need somebody? Here I am. Would've been here the other day, but I've been workin' my ass off for the rodeo." He looks to the box when she brings it up, and laughs a little as he walks over to the swing to hand it to her. "Chocolates. From that flower shop near the cupcake store? I dunno, it hasn't seemed like you've been havin' the best time in life, and while I don't think chocolate fixes everything, it sure helps."

Kate shifts her eyes to the chickens before she glances up at Warren. "The chickens are enjoying it more. You didn't tell me they were so greedy." She laughs and nods, reaching out for the chocolates, still swinging slowly back and forth, her feet in contact with the ground. She opens up the box and sighs, aiming a look at Warren. "You're my new favorite person, Warren. I haven't had chocolates from that shop in…gosh, it's been ages. They make them home made, you know that? She even makes her own caramel." She plucks a chocolate from the box, bites into it, her eyes closing slowly. "Life is not too bad at the moment, Warren. Mostly." She finishes off that chocolate and squints down into the box. "This is going to be a test. Will these chocolates survive the day?"

"I dunno if they're greedy, but chickens aren't the brightest. They'll just keep eatin' if you keep feedin' 'em," Warren laughs as he looks down at the chickens pecking at the ground, shaking his head a touch with faint amusement. "Which is great if you're tryin' to plump 'em up for dinner. Less so if you're just tryin' to just make sure they get fed to keep on layin'," he remarks. There's a wide grin when she takes the box of chocolates, and he folds his arms over his chest. "New favorite person, eh? I guess I'll take that title. But I'm glad to hear life isn't so bad for you, Kate," he says that last part genuinely, chuckling as she talks about the chocolates. "Not everything needs to be a test. I say eat the whole box," he suggests helpfully. "Now what did you need to talk about, hm?"

"Oh, well I don't want to cook them yet, so I won't go crazy on the feed." Katherine takes another chocolate, taking a bite as she tilts her head to the other swing. "Why don't you sit down?" She offers, letting her toes push her back and forth slowly. "First of all, I wanted to thank you for the cupcakes the other night. To apologize for just..spilling all kinds of words out on you, and probably confusing you." She finishes the chocolate and then her shoulders hunch. "Do you believe that sometimes you do something for a good reason, and it turns out to be a bad thing?"

Warren glances over to the swing and tips his head in a slight nod, taking a step over and sinking onto the bench. "Ah, you don't owe me any apologies. Think nothin' of it," he says to her honestly, wrapping one hand around the rope as he tips his head to look over at her. "Sometimes you just need to let things go, yanno? I wasn't confused. To be honest, I didn't really put that much thought behind it. Aside from thinkin' that maybe you just needed somebody to talk to in the moment and I was there," he flashes her a faint grin, before he considers her question with a furrowing of his brow. It takes him a second, but he nods his head after a blip. "Yeah, sure. I mean, that's happened to me before. You go in with the best of intentions but it just doesn't go right."

Katherine rolls her eyes at Warren, sighing softly. "I wish I was wired like that, Warren. I can't think nothing of something, once it's out of the bag, it's out." She wrinkles her nose, frowning toward Warren for a moment before she nods, gazing down at the ground. "Well, what do you do when that happens? How do you walk it back?" She keeps her eyes to the ground and winces. "You really didn't put much thought into what I said? I've probably put too much into it." She kicks at the dirt, and then replaces the top on the chocolates, leaning and stretching over to set it against an old table set up near the coop."

"How do you walk it back?" That makes him blink a few times, and he looks over to her with a frown. "You don't walk stuff back, Kate. You can't ever go back," he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, kicking a foot into the ground to get the swing going at a gentle sway. "You just gotta move forward with it all. Like what you said the other day, yanno? You said what you did, but there's no sense in dwellin' on it. You start dwellin', and that's when your head goes all outta control, and you start thinkin' about what you could've done different or better to get the result you would've wanted," he shrugs as he looks aside to her, offering her a faint smile. "You can't walk stuff back. You just gotta keep movin' forward."

"…still my Pennsylvania service. It's spotty here. I'm moving to the backyard now, it's a little better…" Sarah's voice comes from around the house. She is not in view, as she seems to have stopped at the side. "Oh! That's way better. Okay—Heh, yeah. Colorado, right? What were you asking?" Sarah has been slowly emerging from the cocoon of her room. She's also cleaning herself up, notably /leaving the house/ yesterday to get her hair trimmed, straightened and styled. She's only left one other time to return the rental from her arrival and that was a week and a half ago and she didn't even change out of her pajamas.

"…No, I haven't found any doctor yet, much less a neurologist. Doctor Weeks said she'd refer me so I'm waiting on her." A pause and a sigh. "Oh, uh, better than when you saw me." She chuckles softly. "—Don't worry, okay? I get out of bed now and I finally saw a hairdresser so…"

"You can't ever fix something once it's broken? Someone out there came up with super glue, right?" Katherine watches Warren kick himself into motion, tilting her head to the side. "I said what I said because it's how I feel. There is more to it, but.." She looks frustrated, his words hitting right to the core, and her unable to answer without stuffing her foot in her mouth. "I guess that you're ri.." She trails off, her eyes moving to where Sarah's voice can be heard. Her eyes blink once, and then again at the mention of a neurologist, her swing going still. Then her phone silently buzzes, and she pulls it from her pocket to look at it, eyes narrowing.

"Nah, that's not what I said at all. You asked me if you could walk somethin' back, not if you could fix somethin' you broke," Warren shrugs his shoulders, about to say something else when she quiets. There's a bewildered sort of look as he glances over to her, and then slowly shifts his gaze to follow her own towards where he can hear Sarah talking on the phone. "One of your guests?" he asks curiously.

Katherine shakes her head mutely, her frown deep. "My sister." She says quietly to Warren, her swing still unmoving. Her phone buzzes again and she gives it a brief glance, her breathing hitching into a soft wheeze. She looks like she's struggling for a moment, her brows furrowing as she pulls the collar of her flannel away from her neck. Kate and Warren are seated on a swing set near the garage, the latter swinging slowly back and forth. Sarah? She's unseen at the side of the house, talking on the telephone.

"It's funny that you ask, if you asked me before I left, I'd say yes but…" Sarah continues chatting beside the house. "I feel better at home. Shut up! I know! But, it's nice, okay? It's home. I thought it'd feel empty but since it's a B&B now…" Sarah pauses and then scoffs. "I haven't told her yet, no. Lynn's pregnant, for fuck's sake. She's on local TV. She's running a business. She has a life. The best I can do is, like, keep my mouth shut until I can move out and get on my feet." Beat. "I mean, assuming I'm able…"

"Ah. Huh." Warren tips his head slightly to the side, but he's not exactly a noisy person, so he does his best to try not to listen in on the conversation that's happening on the other side of the house. Instead, he keeps on swinging, until Kate has her mini-panic attack right beside him and he puts a booted foot onto the dirt to drag him back. "Kate? Are you okay?"

Cup of coffee in one hand and phone in the other, Claire steps out the kitchen door; she's not on the phone, just thumb-swiping through pictures and huddling around her coffee. Sweater but no jacket means it's chilly out here, and she huddles close to her cup, only looking up and around at the sound of voices. Kate's? Sarah's? Warren's? Who knows. "Morning," she calls cheerily. While everyone else's world burns. "Brr!"

Warren might not be listening to Sarah, but Kate is, her eyes unfocused as the words drift around to where she's sitting. She hears Warren ask his question, and then Claire appears, but she's still unfocused, and it's clear that she's unable to catch her breath, the hand holding on to the swing rope is white knuckled. "I can't breathe." She manages to wheeze out, shaking her head back and forth.

Warren's attention briefly drifts away from Kate as the cheerful Claire comes out onto the porch, managing a polite smile for her despite the subtle surprise upon seeing her come out of the BnB. "Morning, Miss Reed. You a guest here?" he asks curiously, but that curiousity is derailed the second that Kate starts to not be able to breathe. He's out of the swing the next second. "Kate? Kate, you're gonna have to calm down," he glances back over his shoulder to Claire, the alarm evident - "Call 911," he says to Claire firmly, before he puts his hands on Kate's shoulders.

Claire's greeting made Sarah halt her conversation and apparently end it. All goes silent and one might think Sarah simply went back inside until she quickly reappears out the kitchen door. She looks nice with her straightened hair and made up face. She's bundled up in layers but even those look put together with some care. "Hey, I haven't seen the goat ye—why are we calling 911?" She says, looking at Warren. "Something wrong with Kate?"

Claire cranes her head to look up, up, up toward the top of the house, this awkward angle pulling her attention away from the drama unfolding on the swingsets. "Oh! Morning, Mister Starr. Yes, I stay waaaaay up there in the - call what?" Venturing a few steps away from the door, she takes stock of the not-visibly-injured trio of people, brows all knitted; a second or two later, she sees Katherine's obvious distress, and gasps. "Oh gosh, is she okay? What should I tell them?" While dialing. 9. 1. 1. Call. Phone to ear.

Kate gazes up at Warren when he puts his hands on her shoulders, looking dazed as she tries to breathe. She pulls away to bend at the waist, her head between her knees, not spotting Sarah as she steps out of the kitchen door. She's clammy, her face pale and shiny and she continues to wheeze. "It's cold." She whispers, hands clutching her upper arms as she hugs herself.

"I don't know, I'm not a doctor, I think she's havin' a heart attack?" There's a whole lot of confusion etching its way across Warren's face, and concern, but he's not throwing himself into alarm or panic. He's clear and concise, frowning down at Kate and her glassy eyes. "Tell them she can't breathe," he strips off his jacket as he gives those instructions to Claire, draping it over Kate's back and shoulders as she starts to bend towards her knees. "It's gonna be okay, Kate, we're gonna get the doctors," he says to her directly, before he throws a look over at Claire and Sarah, "I think we're gonna have to bring her inside," he says to the two of them, before he looks back to Kate. "Kate, I"m gonna pick you up and bring you inside, okay? And then the doctors are gonna come."

Sarah watches in stunned silence for a moment. Then, "She's having a panic attack. Don't call the ambulance!" She snaps at Claire. "D-Don't hang up. Just…tell them the truth. It's a panic attack and we have it under control." Now, to Warren. "Yes, inside. And lead her in some deep breathing." Sarah quickly moves aside. "Did she…could she hear me on the phone?"

"Yes, hello? Is this 911?" God, Claire. Of course it is. "I'm sorry, yes. I'm at the Stone Bed and Breakfast, and - yes, that's the address." Getting conflicting directions here, she looks dubiously between Warren and Sarah (and Kate) and tells her phone, "Uhm, I think we need an ambulance? Oh, because the Katherine Stone can't breathe. But wait! Maybe we don't need an ambulance?" If the dispatcher could jump through the phone and choke her out, that would so happen. "I think she's having a panic attack." She pulls the phone away from her face to tell everyone, "She says the paramedics are on the way." Then puts it back to listen to the 'don't hang up' instructions.

Katherine doesn't offer any kind of arguments, she's just trying to breathe, but when Warren says he's going to pick her up, her hand releases the rope holding the swing up. She sways and almost pitches forward, a tear squeezing out from below her eyelids. "I..heard.." She raises her face slightly, focusing on Sarah, her breathing harsh. "You..are going to /talk/.. to me." She looks like she wants to be firm, but she really just looks strained. Her eyes close again and she sways, letting out a strangled groan.

Warren gathers Katherine up out of the swing, but it's really just to walk her back to the house rather than carry her there. He keeps her steady at least, exchanging a glance with Claire there on the phone with 9-1-1 before he gets Kate into the house and onto the nearest sofa that he can find. "I don't know a damn thing about deep breathing, but it sounds like you might?" he says that to Sarah, looking at her expectantly.

"Oh, for fucks sake!" Sarah spits at no one in particular. All of these people are pissing her off in one way or other. "You! Just sit her down, get her to look at you and breath with her. In. Out. Not hard." That gets flung at Warren. Claire gets a more measured response. "That's fine. Thank you." She heads in behind Warren and Kate. "I just hope no one is having a real emergency right now." She mutters under her breath. "Kate? Kate, I'm going to talk to you but you have to calm down for us, alright?"

Claire looks appropriately wounded when Sarah starts in on them, a series of wide-eyed blinks before she starts chewing on the inside of her lip. "Uhm, okay," she tells the phone. "Yes, thank you. I'll wait for them." She hangs up, quickly dumps her unfinished coffee in the sink, and makes her way from the back door to the front door. There, she plants herself, peering out the window for the ambulance, only shooting rare glances back to the drama unfolding on the sofa.

Katherine grimaces when Sarah starts getting pissy at people, not helping the anxiety. Curled up on the sofa, she's starting to breathe easier, but still looks clammy and drawn. Her hands fist and release, nails digging into her palm. "Be..fucking..polite.." She manages to almost snarl at Sarah, glancing aside when the paramedics show up. They politely gestures for the three to back away to let them work, speaking quietly to Kate as they give her oxygen. She shakes her head as a response to the last question, but they don't seem to be taking no for an answer. The taller EMT, a red haired woman turns to address them. "We're going to take her in for them to have a look at her, just a precaution. If anyone is coming with..grab a coat."

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