Ira holds up a hand, only one gloved finger extended, as he rubs his eyes with the other. Trying to focus on his breathing rather than the thoughts going through his head. Just enough to use his words. Just... give him a minute, Connie. He's trying to recenter himself.

"I know; you're trying to help," he says quietly, his raised hand lowering before he lightly - almost fearing he could break it if he grips it too hard - brushes his fingers against the cool surface of a pendant that hangs from his neck. In, out. In, and out.