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Panic

Summary:

Natasha wakes up thinking it's a normal day, soon she realises its not. Steve is there to help her out.

Notes:

Hi, I'm Layla. I'm a 13 year old girl. I suffer from panic attacks and anxiety. A few weeks ago I decided to write out my experience and convert them into fanfics. Yesterday I had a really bad day so I turned it into a Natasha Romanov fanfic. This is the first one I'm uploading. I hope you enjoy :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Natasha

Natasha woke up the same way she always did at 5 AM. She got up, got dressed, ate her breakfast and got ready to go to the gym that was positioned in stark Tower. Even though her and Steve were the only ones to live there the other avengers floors had remained untouched since thanos had snapped half the universe away.

Natasha went into the cupboard where the boxing gloves were kept. She propped the door open with her foot, and felt her hands along the shelves, when she tripped over a broom that was also in the corner of the closet. The door slammed shut behind her.

"Shit" she muttered, she could almost hear Steve telling her "language"

She reached out for the door handle but it wouldn't open, she yanked at it again, maybe a little too hard because the door handle came off.

And that's when it began, at first she just felt her hands shaking, then before she knew it her whole body was shaking uncontrollably. She felt sick 'oh god, I'm dying,' she thought 'I'm going to pass out,' the entire room was spinning. A numb tingle spread throughout her body. Her eyes filled with tears. She was trapped and dying. 'She was black widow, and this was how she was going to go.' Her breathes were becoming short and ragged, before she knew it she was sure there was no air in the room.

Natasha fumbled around for the bucket and found it just in time to lean over into it and unload her breakfast. She desperately tried to get air into her lungs, but there wasn't any. She pulled her legs into her chest clinging to them. As she did so she could swear she felt the cornors of the room closing in and crushing her. The clothes she was wearing felt like they were choking her.

She could hear her heart beating like a drum ringing in her ears. And still there was no air. She needed air, everything was spinning, she felt like she was going to be sick, but she had nothing left to throw up. She continued to gasp, hyperventilating while simultaneously trying desperately to get some, just any, air into her lungs.

Steve

His alarm had gone of as usual at 6:30, Tony had been nice enough to set his alarm to play music from his time. He pulled on a sweater and some jeans and went to have some breakfast. He checked his emails, which for him still took him a while as he was still adjusting to all this strange technology.

He wondered around trying to find Natasha for a bit before assuming she was just sleeping in for once. As he pressed the elevator button for the gym floor he felt a knot in his stomach as he passed each of the avengers', who Thanos had snapped away, floors. He wandered in and saw Natasha's bottle of water along with her headphones and phone sitting on a bench.

Just then he heard a faint whimper.

"Nat"
"Natasha"
"Are you in here"

Just then he heard a muffled sob coming from the closet where the gloves were kept. He wandered over cautiously. He could hear it far more clearly now, she was sobbing and breathing far too heavily.

"Nat" he asked, his voice soft.

Natasha was vaguely aware of a knock on the door, but if felt like she was hearing and seeing everything from outside of her body.

She was in there, Steve knew that now. He tried to open the door, but nothing happened.

"okay nat, I'm going to pull the door off, it's not going to hurt you"

He reached around the edges of the door frame and yanked them off, light flooded into the once dark room and his eyes fell upon Natasha, curled up in a ball in the corner, it was so strange seeing the usually strong Black widow looking so broken.

"hey Nat" he said, cautiously approaching her, he reached out a hand and gently placed on her shoulder. She flinched away

"okay, okay, I won't touch you, but can you come outside of this room," her eyes stared straight through him, as if she were looking at a ghost. Her breathing was getting worse, she was practically choking as she desperately tried to get air in.

Suddenly her eyes locked with his as a moment of realisation dawned upon her.

"S-s-s-teve"

"yeah, it's me, Steve, are you OK?"

She tried to talk again but her voice seemed to disappear. All she could manage was a basic shake of her head.

"okay, would it be okay if I took you outside the closet"

She finally mustered up the energy to nod. Steve smiled and gently scooped her up and setting her down against the wall of the gym.

Everything was so bright, there still wasn't any air, then she heard Steve's voice, it was gently ringing through her mind.

Steve looked at Natasha before gently taking her hands,

"hey nat, I know it's hard to talk right now so can squeeze this hand (he squeezed his right hand) if the answer is yes and this one (he squeezed his left hand) if the answer is no." he felt a gentle squeeze of his right hand and felt a sigh of relief.

"has this happened before?" (no)

"okay, do you know what is happening right now?" (no)

"what your experiencing right now is a panic attack, it can't hurt you, I know it feels scary but it will pass. I don't know much about panic attacks but I have heard of 2 ways to help, one is to just wait it out and if will pass, the other is to focus on your breathing, would you like to try and focus on your breathing " (yes)

"try and follow my breathing pattern" *he proceeded to breathe slowly and clearly, trying desperately to get Natasha to copy him.

'Natasha come on, its just breathing, you've been breathing your whole life, you heard him, it's not going to hurt you, for God's sake Natasha there is air all around you, just breathe.' she thought.

She tried desperately to gulp air into her lungs but she felt like she no longer had control over what her lungs did. Eventually she stuttered out.

"not working. Can't. Breathe. Spinning. I. Feel. Sick. Make it stop"

"Nat I'm sorry but if this isn't working maybe we should just wait it out, can you do that" reluctantly Natasha squeezed his hand signalling she could wait it.

Steve leaned over and handed her a bottle of water. She hadn't realised how dry her mouth was until she swallowed a mouthful. Steve wrapped her in his arms and gently massaged her back, while rocking her slowly back and forth.

'Come on, you heard this will pass, but when? I think I'm going to be sick, but you've already been sick, how is he just breathing? Where is he getting air. You were trained to be better than this.' Her mind raced at 100mph as she tried to collect her thoughts.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. She closed her eyes and allowed Steve to gently rock her back and forward 'come on, breathe, there is air, please let this end. Please, please let this end. I feel like I'm going to throw up, this is so humiliating.' More time passed and suddenly she felt some air enter her lungs, she still felt awful but suddenly she felt hope. And slowly the other symptoms began to ease.

"you are doing so good Nat" Steve whispered.

Eventually once her breathing had returned to normal, she closed her eyes why was she so exhausted all she had done was sit there.

Almost as if reading her mind Steve muttered "it's OK if your tired, how about I take you back to your bed and you can rest for a while"

As stupid as it felt she agreed. Steve helped her to her feet and into her bed. He set some water by her beside table and just as he was about to leave he heard a mutter

"Stay." Steve turned around and sat on a armchair positioned opposite her bed. He didn't leave the room for the rest of the day. Occasionally she began to sob again, convinced she was weak. But he stayed with her the whole time.

The next day she got up, Steve was asleep in the same armchair. She knew she didn't want anyone to know what had happened, but she felt that she could trust Steve to not say anything. And he didn't.

Notes:

I'm also autistic, and that technique of squeezing hands to answer questions was one I learned and use when I go non verbal during meltdowns or panic attacks. I find it helps people who aren't non verbal as well. I hope you enjoyed :)