this is fine (o)

[Martenpaw]

This is fine. This is fine. This is totally fine. It was far from fine.

Sweat drenched his fiery pelt, chilling to the bone but simultaneously too hot to bear. Breaths came in shallow, irregular intervals. Martenpaw felt his chest constrict—too little air, too little space to breathe. He gasped. His claws flexed in and out of their sockets, digging momentarily into the moss and dirt before retracting. The apprentice's eyes were round with fright. He needed to get out, but he was too afraid to leave the comfort, the familiarity of where he was.

Stop, stop, stop. Calm down. This is nothing. It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. The words might as well have been ingrained permanently in his head, and Martenpaw would still fail to follow through. It was impossible. It was too dark, too claustrophobic, too much. His body convulsed with dry sobs. He just wanted it to stop.

[Frostpaw]

Frostpaw, returning from training, stepped into the Apprentices' Den and immediately knew that something was wrong. The den smelt strongly of sweat, of panic and fear. Glancing frantically around the place for the source of the scents, her gaze landed on another apprentice, lying a nest.
The apprentice was sobbing, and he looked to be shaking. Swishing her tail around in worry, Frostpaw approached the other cat cautiously. What's wrong with him? I don't think I've ever seen this happen to another cat, except in a nightmare. But he doesn't look like he is having nightmare? 
Though, the main issue that Frostpaw could see now that she was closer was not the sobbing or the sweating, but the fact that the other cat was barely taking shallow breaths. Won't he suffocate like that? Frostpaw was truly concerned now. What if he died?
Trying to keep herself calm, she murmured softly and comfortingly, "Are you alright?" Then, she mentally kicked herself for asking such a mouse brained question. Evidently he isn't! Deciding to take another tack, she spoke again, trying to address what she thought of as the main issue. "Come on, breathe slowly. You can do it. Watch me." Then, she tried to demonstrate deep breaths. Frostpaw felt an instinct to touch the other cat, tap him, but held back. It would do no good if she startled him. 

[Martenpaw]

Martenpaw was in total conflict with himself. His anxiety-ridden nature, responsible for triggering his very convenient panic attack, battled with the stubborn, disgusted thoughts in his mind. His heart screamed for safety, for the comfort of a friend - Lionfang - but his head admonished his weakness. Stop it! This is ridiculous! Why are you panicking over something that's not there? What are you even panicking over?! Shut up, shut up, stop! Nothing happened. His heart hammered relentlessly still, his ears rang as though thunder clapped directly in them, and his stomach churned with the strong urge to vomit. It took nearly all of his energy not to pass out (though Martenpaw wanted nothing more than to lose consciousness and forget) or spill his pathetic dinner on the floor of the den (which he didn't want to get yelled at for).

The ginger tabby uncurled from his fetal position, but he regretted it as soon as someone detected him. He started and shrank away from her presence, his shuddering intensifying. The last thing he wanted right now was social contact. You idiot! You need the help; stop being such a coward, his conscience barked aggressively somewhere in the chaos of his thoughts. He cringed. "I-I.. I'm fi-fine.. G-" he panted. It took great effort to even get the few syllables out.

[Frostpaw]

Frostpaw's eyes widened in panic as the other cat seemed to completely ignore her attempts to comfort him and instead panic more. Maybe he didn't like it when he was approached? Backing away slowly, she listened as he spoke, trying to decipher his words.
He's fine? She sighed deeply as she made out what the other cat was trying to say. Obviously not, if he can't even speak. Still though, she decided not to question it. If she did, it might get the other cat more agitated, and that would certainly be an issue. 
Trying as best she could to help, Frostpaw murmured again, "Do you need me to get anyone?" The moment she said that, she mentally kicked herself. He can't speak, how is he going to answer you? And with that, she quietly just told him to focus on his breathing. There wasn't much else she could do for him, after all. 

[Martenpaw]

Martenpaw hissed, but it was directed more at himself and his own pitiful situation than at the she-cat. If it were some other cat she had encountered having the same problem as Martenpaw, he figured they would have treated her with more gratitude than he was right now. He berated himself for that. She wasn't doing anything bad to him - StarClan's sake she was trying to help him - and the ginger tom could do nothing but act as cold as the weather outside and shrink away from her kindness. Some guy he was.

But oh, God he was starting to get lightheaded. Not enough oxygen was getting to his head. He needed to slow down, to recall how to breathe again. Spots danced in his vision. No, no, no, you are not going to pass out. You look dumb and weak enough as it is. Don't you dare, he growled silently. He shook violently again, tears pricking at the corners of his wide eyes. He heard the apprentice speak again, asking him something, but it was like he was hearing her from underwater. When he finally understood the words that came out of her mouth, his first thought was Lion. Pain pierced him, but he knew it wasn't from his attack. He frowned, clawing uselessly at the ground. "N-no.. nobody." He gazed at her with a terrified, pleading stare and turned away. God, I'm horrible but please, please don't leave me alone.