Which almost makes Klaus recoil in kind, but he holds firm instead, studying the boy with slowly widening eyes. Shit, he's going to have to talk himself (in such a bizarrely literal sense) down from a panic attack? Hooboy.

Klaus scowls hard – to steel himself is all – clutches his mirror-image close with one arm and uses the other to scooch him over so he can climb up onto the hospital bed beside him. Then he enfolds him completely, both arms squeezing. "I know it's hard, but try to slow down. Inhale as slow as you can through your nose, feel it deep in your belly then let it all out from your mouth. We'll count if we gotta." Slowly but surely, he's realizing that remembering how Diego would help calm him down is helpful in this situation.