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mold, metal, and panic attacks

Summary:

i noticed the basic soldats in heisenberg's factory have similar movement and attack patterns as the molded and uh. ethan doesn't mention re7 very much even though he literally deals with molded on the way to fighting miranda so. he's mentioning it in this fic baby!!!

Notes:

i listened to dante's inferno by whirlybird on repeat while writing this so. take that as you will

also i'm going off my own experience with panic attacks for ethan's panic attack so don't expect it to be perfectly unanimous with how you or others experience panic attacks. don't be mad if he "gets over it too fast" or it's "not realistic" because again i'm going off of my own experiences and everyone experiences these things differently

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Ethan thought fighting his way through Heisenberg’s factory wouldn’t be this hard. He hadn’t seen any mutants or monsters on the way to that main room where Heisenberg dropped him down, so he made the (fairly stupid) assumption that there wouldn’t be any monsters in general.

At least, none that were this strong. He’s sweating and panting near the core of the factory, running along and trying to just avoid the soldats that came at him seemingly around every corner.

(He’s trying not to think of how similar they were to something else he dealt with)

He checks the ammo count on his pistol. He only has 6 bullets left; shit. Only two on his shotgun and only one on his magnum. It might be enough ammo to take them out - he mentally curses the fact he didn’t have plus ammo, like in the Baker house.

He has to suck in a gasp and a shout as another soldat comes shambling towards him, his heart beating fast enough he swears it’ll give out any second now; overheat like a dying laptop.

Forcing his legs to move, he continues running along these winding catwalks that most likely weren’t OSHA compliant at all.

Funny, that’s what his brain focuses on. In the haze of panic running through this discount Magneto’s lair, with things (far too similar to molded too close) right on his heel, he focuses on the OSHA guidelines and how they’d apply to this catwalk.

It surely couldn’t be safe, right? Ethan was pretty sure these things were being held aloft at least 50 feet in the air with thin metal poles and pure spite. He sure didn’t feel safe running across these with at least three soldats chasing him at this point.

He makes the mistake of looking around his shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of another soldat joining the fray in shambling after him. He has to quickly duck down to avoid a lunging attack from one (too close to molded too close).

Getting up and continuing to run, Ethan’s breath begins to come out in wheezing pants. His chest seems to clench up- taking in a full gasp of air becomes a losing battle.

He turns a corner without thinking, stumbling and falling to his knees and attempting to crawl forward before realizing it was a dead end.

Clutching a supply box to help himself up into a standing position (how helpful of him to leave these down here too, he thinks bitterly), he turns to find at least four soldats advancing on him. His eyes widen in terror as he quickly turns and breaks the box with his knife to put at least another foot between him and these shambling metal corpses.

Now, rational Ethan would’ve probably had the much smarter idea to raise his hands in defense and skirt around them to keep running. But this wasn’t rational Ethan.

This Ethan could hardly take in a full breath. His heart was going a million miles an hour and it was making him lightheaded; his vision fuzzy. His head was starting to hurt and his legs could no longer support him, causing him to collapse and fall on his ass. This didn’t stop the soldats from approaching (why weren’t they stopping).

He gasps in a choked breath, raising his hands above his head in hopes to stop at least some of the horrible pain he’d end up feeling. His mouth was moving without his consent, forming words he’d never say otherwise. “Please! Please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please!”

(As if they could hear him, shambling corpses of mold metal slowly advancing, planning a slow end to him, going to decimate his corpse they weren’t going down he couldn’t get a headshot he needed a headshot he-)

Suddenly, a voice blared through the speakers, cutting through his begging (and crying? He was crying?).

“Oi, stop the attacking shit-for-brains! It’s no fun trying to kill him when he’s just being a baby about it!”

If that was supposed to comfort Ethan, it didn’t help. While the soldats did stop just before attacking him and presumably ending his life, it just made him shake and sob more, attempting to cover his face.

(The statement was too close to something someone else would say- he half expected to hear that in a more southern accent instead of the smooth voice that he knew Heisenberg had)

“Ethan, Ethan, Ethan. I really didn’t think you were going to be such a baby over this. Where’d your spine go, papa? What happened to the guy who tried to get me to drop him down that pit?” Heisenberg was taunting him. Ethan knows he is.

“Fuck off,” Ethan manages to rasp out, dragging his fingers through his hair and attempting to get his breathing back in order. “I can’t- I can’t do this anymore. Just let me get out of here. Let me go.” He isn’t sure how he managed to keep his voice so level, as raspy and shaky as it was. At least he wasn’t screaming.

“Unfortunately, letting you go isn’t an option. I thought you knew that by now? What, can you really not handle a couple soldats? They aren’t even my strongest soldiers! You have yet to get through Sturm!” Heisenberg says, voice dramatic as usual. Now it was just mocking. A sob tears through Ethan’s throat as he realizes that no, he didn’t actually kill Sturm. “What, are you- do you want me to mercy kill you or something?” Did he sound… awkward?

“I just want my daughter!” Ethan cries out, all the stress of these past few days (days? It’s been days?) seeming to just have built up and up like water pooling into an already overflowing dam. The dam must have broken however, because now it’s just spilling out of him and he can’t stop it.

Heisenberg was quiet, for once; no witty comeback, no claiming that he wanted Rose too (to use her as a weapon, his mind helpfully supplies). It was radio silence on his end.

There’s a pause, then; Ethan hears the elevator he came in open. His head immediately snaps up to attempt to look at it, but his vision is too blurry with tears to make out any solid figure. He could hear boots stomping against metal though, giving him a good idea of who it is. He bares his teeth in a feeble attempt at a snarl.

“Ethan, don’t give me that face!” Heisenberg says in an almost condescending tone. Ethan vaguely realizes that he’s stepping on different pieces of scrap metal to get to him faster, instead of just taking the catwalk. “Jesus, you really aren’t doing too hot, are you?”

“Fuck off,” Ethan grumbles, struggling to wipe the tears freely flowing from his eyes as he takes in a shuddering breath. He looks up with a slightly clearer vision to see Heisenberg crouching in front of him, looking at him with an expression of clear curiosity.

“How interesting…” Heisenberg mumbles, reaching out and wiping a tear rolling off Ethan’s cheek. “Do all humans do this? Is it some kind of fear driven response?”

“Shut up! I don’t want you fucking- examining me like I’m some kind of specimen!” Ethan snaps back, feeling his face heat up at the subtle contact. Heisenberg’s touch was surprisingly gentle- so much so that he had to resist leaning into it.

“Specimen? Oh no no Ethan, I only use cadavers for that! This is simple curiosity!” Heisenberg says, gesturing some. Ethan can see the soldats walking away out of the corner of his eye. “Well? Is it a fear driven response that the body has?”

Well. There was something in Ethan that was telling him to believe Heisenberg, to tell him what’s happening to him- but then he remembers this is the same person who dropped him down a pit because he wouldn’t let him use his daughter as a weapon. “Fuck off.”

“C’mon Ethan, don’t be like that!” Heisenberg chides, standing up straight and holding out a hand. “I’m giving you a second chance! I don’t usually do this for people!”

“A second chance? For what? To use my daughter as a fucking weapon?” Ethan snaps, shaking his head and attempting to lift himself up to standing. His knees felt weak, like if you shook jello in a bowl. Upon lifting himself up, he just falls right back down, another sob ripping out of his throat just because of how pathetic he felt.

“Look, I must’ve gone about that the wrong way-” Heisenberg grunted, deciding to just pull Ethan up like he weighed nothing. “-I don’t want to use your daughter! We both have the same goal here- and the kid? Well, she’s a baby! We’d still have to fight Mirander!”

Well, now Ethan was just lost. He could barely process what Heisenberg was saying- first he wanted to use Rose as a weapon against Miranda, and now he’s saying they don’t have to? “This is making no sense- what the fuck do you even mean?” He manages to slur out, leaning heavily against Heisenberg no matter how much he hated it. He just… couldn’t support his own body right now, that’s all.

“Hey hey, my explanation comes with a price! I want to figure out what’s going on with your body, papa! Always the interesting one aren’t you?” Heisenberg says. Ethan could just feel the grin in his voice even if he couldn’t clearly see it. “So, how about we strike a deal? You tell me what’s going on with you and I’ll tell you my plans to take down Miranda!”

Ethan sighs, weighing his options before finally closing his eyes and nodding. He was exhausted. “Sure. Alright. But we’re not using my daughter as a weapon in this plan.”

Again, Ethan could just feel the grin on Heisenberg’s face once he said that. He could also tell they were being led back to the cargo elevator. “Excellent! Now, tell me what’s going on with your body?”

“It’s called a panic attack- at least I think that’s what’s going on,” Ethan mumbles. He remembered his therapist telling him something like that.

“What’s a panic attack?” Heisenberg questions, sounding genuinely - and surprisingly - curious about what it was. It almost caught Ethan off guard- almost. If it did he would’ve lowered his defenses and that would’ve been bad.

“It’s like your body goes into overdrive because of something you experience or remember- well, it’s more like it shuts down.” Ethan tries his best to explain in his hazy state, although the ability to be able to rationally explain what was happening to him definitely helps in calming him down.

“Ah! So it’s like a bunny?” Heisenberg grins, although he elaborates when he’s met with a confused look by Ethan. “When cornered by prey their heart rate speeds up and causes them to die of fright!”

Ethan couldn’t help but snicker at how different that was to his situation. He shakes his head some at the statement. “... I guess it’s like that?” He wipes away the rest of his tears, deeming himself calm enough that more won’t spring up the second he wipes them away.

“Something about you laughing at that statement tells me otherwise,” Heisenberg said, narrowing his eyes and scrutinizing Ethan through his sunglasses. “But I suppose I can learn more about that later! C’mon, let’s get back up to my factory!” He announces, high in grandeur like everything else he does.

Ethan shakes his head some, unable to stop himself from chuckling a bit at it. He does separate himself from Heisenberg once he’s sure he can walk, although the loss of warmth suddenly made his side feel cold. Okay, so maybe he was a little touch starved. And Romania was cold. Those were the only reasons.

Definitely not because the fourth Lord actually ended up being much nicer than he thought at first.

(Much nicer than Mia, his brain helpfully supplies. He casts the thought away before he can start crying again.)

“Alright, but just know that if this plan of yours includes using Rose, I’m going to throw myself back down that hole.”