Erik can sense Artemy's struggle, can practically hear it in the pounding of his pulse and quickening of his breath. It isn't difficult to guess, in general, that he is reliving some horrible moment from the past. His eyes are focusses on something that isn't there, something terrible only he can see.

"Artemy," Erik hopes his voice can be a tether to bring him back to the present. "If you can hear me, squeeze my hand." Erik takes one of Artemy's big callused hands and wraps it around his own cold and slender fingers, encouraging him to hold tighter. "Feel me. Hear me. Focus your eyes on my face."