Ranboo isn't giving any of the signals Dirk might have interpreted as resistance--they're not fighting, they're not rigid or tense, they're not trying to pull away. They aren't even screwing their eyes shut or saying no. None of which would have signalled a problem to Dirk in terms of his behaviour--to Dirk, those signs mean that Ranboo hasn't come around yet, not that he's doing something wrong. But none of those happen; instead, Ranboo just... weakens. Sags. Slumps down against the nasty bedding and breathes, wet and ragged and wheezing and empty.

Dirk lets go of them slowly. Very slowly. He's expecting another burst of life--or worse, a sudden swerve back into death. But neither one happens; they're just... catatonic. Broken, at least temporarily. He hasn't seen them this bad since--

Since ever, actually. He's never seen them this bad. He's never seen anyone this bad, except in... well, snuff videos.

Which makes him extremely nervous. He's hesitant to fully let go, he's hesitant to leave, he's hesitant to stay here doing nothing--

(Any parallels to his own dissociative fugue states are completely lost on him.)

"Okay. Okay, good. Good job." He says this like he's afraid Ranboo will explode, like a bomb. Not soothing, not warm, but tense and cautious in a breathless way.

"Breathe, now. Keep breathing. Okay? Can you handle that? Just keep breathing."