**A Witcher's Breakdown**

Geralt's breathing seemed to come in short, ragged gasps as his body trembled with anxiety, his eyes wide with fear. Jaskier's voice was a gentle whisper in his ear, "It's okay, Geralt, we're in this together. We'll find a way, we always do." But Geralt's mind was a jumble of worst-case scenarios, his thoughts racing like a runaway horse. As Jaskier's words washed over him, Geralt's body began to shake, and his face contorted in a mixture of fear and despair. His breathing seemed to pick up speed, and he felt like he was drowning in his own panic. Tears began to roll down his face, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. Jaskier wrapped a comforting arm around Geralt's shoulders, holding him close as he would have a child. "Geralt, it's okay, really. We'll get through this. You're not alone." The bard's voice was a soothing balm, and Geralt felt his panic begin to ebb. Geralt's body began to shudder, and he let out a ragged sob. Jaskier held him firm, whispering soft words of encouragement into his ear. Geralt's face contorted in a mixture of fear and despair, and he felt like he was losing control. The room seemed to grow darker, and Geralt's panic reached a fever pitch. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling of impending doom that had been dogging him for weeks. But Jaskier's calm presence and gentle words slowly began to seep into his consciousness, calming the storm brewing inside. As Geralt's breathing slowed, and his body relaxed, Jaskier continued to whisper softly in his ear. "It's okay, Geralt. You're safe. I'm here." The Witcher's body convulsed with a great shuddering breath, and he let out a low, anguished cry. Jaskier held him close, a steady presence that seemed to anchor Geralt to reality. The Witcher's tears began to fall, hot and unchecked, as he felt the weight of his anxiety slowly begin to lift. Geralt's body went limp, and he felt like he was drowning in a sea of despair. But Jaskier's grip on him was like a lifeline, holding him afloat as he struggled to come up for air. The bard's words were a gentle hum in the background, a reassuring presence that slowly began to calm Geralt's racing thoughts. As the storm inside Geralt began to subside, his body began to relax, and his breathing slowed. Jaskier's grip on him remained firm, but gentle, as he guided Geralt to the bed. The Witcher collapsed onto the mattress, his body spent, his emotions raw. Jaskier covered Geralt with a warm blanket and sat beside him, stroking his hair until the Witcher's breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm. Geralt's eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a soft sigh, his body exhausted. The room was quiet, except for the crackling of the fire and Geralt's gentle snores. Jaskier sat beside him, watching over him like a guardian, a soft smile on his face. He gently stroked Geralt's hair, his eyes filled with concern and affection. As the night wore on, Geralt slept soundly, his body spent from the emotional turmoil. Jaskier sat beside him, a watchful presence, ready to offer comfort and support when his friend needed it most. The darkness outside seemed to recede, and the only sound was the soft crackling of the fire and Geralt's gentle breathing.