The click of a lighter pulled him back right before he went over that edge, and Neil took the cigarette Wymack offered him. He cradled it close and breathed in as deep as he could. It hurt to breathe but he did it anyway. Each successive breath pulled hard at his stitches and the bandages taped to his skin. He pressed his free hand to his coat, trying to feel the gauze through thick wool. He finally inhaled so deep he choked on it. He coughed so hard he thought he'd break something, but on the tail-end of his coughing he was laughing.

It sounded twisted and wrong in this suffocating space, but Neil couldn't stop. He bit his hand to muffle the sound, but it didn't help. Hysteria was one hard blink away from taking over.

"Neil," Wymack said. "I need you to talk to me."

"I think I pulled my stitches," Neil said. "I feel blood."

"Where?" Wymack asked.

"Everywhere?" Neil guessed, and tried undoing his coat buttons one-handed.

Wymack pushed Neil's hand out of the way. Neil let Wymack fight with the buttons and zipper, but it took both of them to get Neil's coat off. Neil caught the fingertip of one glove in his teeth and tugged, only to wince at the way his cheek twinged. Wymack noticed the expression and reached for Neil's face. Neil hadn't realized he had bandages on his face until Wymack pried gauze and tape off.

Wymack went so still Neil thought he'd turned to stone. "Neil, the fuck is on your face?"

Neil wrested his glove free and touched bare fingers to his skin. He didn't feel anything, so he caught at the sink and tried to get to his feet. Wymack let him try once on his own, then got up and hauled Neil upright. Neil wasn't ready to see his reflection again. He was less ready to see the "4" tattooed on his left cheekbone.

Wymack wasn't expecting his violent reaction. That was the only reason Neil succeeded in throwing him out of the bathroom. Neil dove past him and ran for the kitchen. By the time Wymack caught up with him he'd already pulled a knife from the wooden block on Wymack's counter. Wymack seized his wrist before Neil could take the knife to his own face. Neil fought like a caged beast, but Wymack slammed his hand down on the counter until Neil lost his grip. Neil scrambled for the knife, but Wymack dragged Neil to the floor with him. He got both arms around Neil and held on tight, and there was nothing Neil could do but exhaust himself trying to get free.

"Hey," Wymack said at his ear, sharp and insistent. "Hey. It's all right."