[Oh god. Blood everywhere, blood splattering back and did it hit him, stabbed straight like but worse, he remembers--]
[Okabe runs to the nearest trash can, vomits, and stares blankly at his hands. Anyone near might be able to notice he's hyperventilating; he's in another place, another time. Give him a moment to compose himself, but for now, PTSD is a fucking joy.]
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[Okabe runs to the nearest trash can, vomits, and stares blankly at his hands. Anyone near might be able to notice he's hyperventilating; he's in another place, another time. Give him a moment to compose himself, but for now, PTSD is a fucking joy.]