The desert at night was a whole other world compared to the forests of Washington. It was cold, that was the same, but it was dry. Dylan was behind the wheel, I was staring out onto the miles of flat sandy ground. It was just like old times. I mean, old times being just a week ago. It had been a few days since we reunited and the time in between had been mostly lazy days full of hot sun and driving for miles. I think it was getting to Dylan's head, because just yesterday he had been at the point where just about anything was funny. We drove past one speed limit sign and he cracked up like he was front row in a comedy club. It was both parts musing and terrifying watching the mighty fall.

"You sure you don't want me to take over?" I sighed, my breath leaving condensation on the glass.

"No... I'm going to pull over in a little bit... it'll be fine." He yawned. "Put on some heavy metal or something."

I messed with the radio until I eventually found something that was screamo enough for my tastes but tame enough for Dylan. It seemed to perk him up a bit.

"Man." He sighed. "You know I never used to listen to this type of music but I have to say it's growing on me."

I kicked my feet up on the dash. "It's a big wide world of screaming your lungs out and crying over bands that broke up long before you started listening to them my friend, proceed with caution."

He laughed. "Yeah, my mom was really into it but my stepdad absolutely despised it, so I never got that exposure."

"I was just a sad person with an internet connection." I admitted.

My smiled faltered though, I didn't know if this was a touchy subject or not. I mean the last time Dylan opened up to me he had been crying. I didn't want to ruin this after we were doing so well, so I let it be. Though he did look very uncomfortable when I glanced over. Heaven knows I worried about Dylan Clark.

"Yeah I think I'm just going to just pull over right here." Dylan yawned in emphasis.

He pulled the car over to the side, parked, and we started our nightly routine of pulling out all of the blankets and pillows. I mean at least I did. Almost as soon as we started, Dylan let out a long shaky sigh and backed away. I dropped the blanket I was holding and turned to see him rubbing the back on his neck and staring out into the darkness.

"You okay?" I took a few steps over to him.

He nodded. "Y-yeah. I think I just need to sit down."

He leaned against back the car and I threw out the last blanket. Then I hopped onto the lip of the trunk right next to him. Dylan's hands were shaking in his lap and he was taking really focused, deep breaths.

"You know you can keep your hands warmer by sticking them in the front pocket." I demonstrated, trying to let him open up to me in his own time.

He smiled shakily. "I uh, I'm sorry I'm just... I'm trying to quit and it's getting really bad."

I stared at him sympathetically. "Hey it'll be fine. You're so strong, you can do this."

He didn't turn away from gazing into the horizon, he didn't react at all when I said that. Dylan's eyes just seemed blank and empty. I reached forward and curlers my fingers into his palm, in attempt to stop the shaking. His hands were colder than mine. The snapped him out of it, he glanced over at me nervously, cheeks flushed.

"I'm here for you, dummy." The insult justified the affection in my head but somehow managed to come out even more endearing, but whatever.

Dylan opened his mouth, and looked like he couldn't even think of anything to say. "Th-thank you."

"No problem."

I was thinking a casual bro, here might be too much, so for just a few moments I didn't say anything. Did this count as making a move? I just considered this moral support. If it were me I'd want this, so technically I'm just putting myself in his shoes. Technically this is also what I'd want in a boyfriend too, but those were just details.

"Would you be okay if I talked about it a little?" Dylan asked.

"Sure."

"Okay. Let's close the door though because it really is cold out here." He offered, scooting back into the back of the car, his hand slipped out of mine slowly.

"I'm going to take off my binder then."

"Me too."

He started up again as we both faced opposite directions and changed clothes.

"I think I was probably ten when I started getting panic attacks. It was mostly caused by school and coming home from school to find a note on the fridge that said my parents were in the hospital and I could have whatever I wanted for dinner. It got worse when I moved. Then I found a discarded pack of cigarettes John left out one day and it went downhill from there but the panic attacks stopped and that's all I cared about." He admitted.

"Man," I sighed. "That's rough. Whenever I got them I just hid in a bathroom somewhere."

"You didn't get in trouble?" He asked, leaning back against his pillow.

"Oh, I got in trouble, eventually my mom just got too tired to deal with it." I sighed, laying down on the other side.

"Ah, yep." His voice cracked again.

I looked over at him and he was staring off into space again.

"Are you going to be able to fall asleep?" I asked.

He blinked rapidly. "I don't know. It usually doesn't happen at night."

Dylan's voice shook now, and my concern for him grew only stronger. "Tell me about what you're feeling."

"My chest feels constricted. I feel like I can't breathe and... I've got cramps."

"You mean like...?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Well just don't concentrate on that. Here look at me."

He shifted onto his side and hesitantly met my eyes. My heart was fluttering too, only because this was more in depth than Dylan had ever let himself sink too. I wonder if I really meant that much to him, to the point where he would open up in an instant now that he had me back. It was like gravity. I was a comet he was trying to pull me closer and I had almost slipped away.

"Clench up your fists and shoulders like this." I demonstrated. "Then count to ten and breath in, after that, relax all your muscles."

He followed along with me a few times which strategies into minutes. Until finally his hands stopped shaking.

"Where'd you learn that?" He asked.

"I made it up." I said sheepishly.

Dylan smiled. "That's great."

He closed his eyes and seemed to start to drift off. I stayed awake a little while longer. I could see his chest move up and down with every breath. I was suddenly very happy that he was alive. Not that there was any danger of him dying. Not that they're wasn't. Dylan was here with me and I was here with him. He wanted me around and I desperately wanted him. I love him. I loved him so much. I was imploding with forces of love that I didn't know could be contained within one human being, and I wanted him to feel it too.

I closed my eyes.