[It seems to be taking an incredible effort for Pratt to walk, having to stop and lean against Ben far more heavily in order to keep going. He collapses onto the edge of the planter gratefully, unsure if his legs are going to keep supporting him for much longer.

Not only is he mentally confused, but physically he's absolutely exhausted; stomach churning as if he hasn't eaten in a week, head throbbing like he's not slept. But he had done all those things. He'd eaten breakfast that morning and though his hand still hurt from the incident with Carlisle, he'd rebandaged it and fallen asleep pretty early the night before. But while he hasn't actually done anything to warrant how terribly he feels, his mind is making the sensations real.]

Like shit. I don't think I'll pass out again, I just need a bit to .. sit here.

[In silence. Away from the music. Reaching up he rubs his eye with his palm, taking some deep shuddering breaths and trying to get himself back together.]

Thanks for the assist. I don't want to... It's good I wasn't in there for too long. I'm not actually injured, I'll be okay after a bit. It's all.. mental. It's not real.

[Though he knows that's the point. It's not real - but his brain will make it real because that's what he's been conditioned to do.]