[Hank’s first thought is “no, you are not going to fucking ‘slow down my breathing with a goddamn count,’” but he doesn’t say it. Because he’s tired, and this is Connor.]

I’m listening, yeah. [A mumble.] Focusing, sure.

[And he tries the count thing, but it’s just pissing him off more, making his breaths heavier because he sucks at all this. After a while, he manages to calm himself enough to ask:]

Can you just... talk? About anything.