He flinches away from her when she reaches towards him, but he's also trying to sit up, letting out another panicked cry at how it feels just to support his own weight in his hand against the soft bedspread. Frank doesn't give up, working his way up inch by terrible inch until he can prop himself up against the pillows. It's better, but not by much, his clothes feeling like each thread is pinning him down sharply. Even blinking is a painful chore, but he's starting to learn to breathe again, to think things through more thoroughly.

"Just - sorry. Give me a sec."

Frank has to work through this on his own, hands on his thighs even though it hurts. It hurts either way so being comfortable might help him keep his head.

"Everything..." His eyes pop open, seeking out hers, wanting her to be close even though they can't touch. "It's like I'm being - stabbed by a thousand tiny knives. Every time I." Frank blows out a breath, lets the cool blue of Karen's eyes center him. Hearing her voice, he can do this. They can. He has to.

"Just. Talk to me? Please. Until it passes."