𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 [𝖙•𝖘] [𝖎𝖒 - 𝖊𝖓𝖌]

²². 𝑃𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑐

trigger warning: panic attack and mentions of scars. if you're sensible to these topics, please read with caution or skip the scene.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

THERE were many things that (Y/N) hated in her life, but in this exact point in her life, she hated nights the most. Just the thought of going to bed and closing her eyes just to see flashes of the battle and even memories from the crash was dreading to her. She wanted everything to be simple; to act naive as if nothing extraordinary happened in her life and she was just another regular human being in the world. But that was too much to ask, especially since she was already head deep into this life, and she couldn't turn her back on that.

(Y/N) stood in front of the mirror inside her own bathroom with a stoic face as she stared at her reflection. Her hair was damp and the minuscule droplets of water were still falling from her skin. She thought a shower would relax her mind and it would make it easier to help her sleep, but none of that happened.

She continually kept staring at herself in the mirror, her hands barely lifting one part of the towel still wrapped to her body to stare at the burn marks on her hip and the scars of several gashes in her collarbones. Everyone had their battle scars after that gruesome fight, but (Y/N) thought that her skin had gone through so much worse to receive that kind of damage.

(Y/N)'s fingertips carefully reached to her left collarbone and gently touched the scar, but this instantly drew a wince from her part. She blinked to try to regain her sudden dizziness, but her head started spinning in circles and now she couldn't pinpoint the sight of the mirror in front of her from all the spinning. Her skin felt boiling hot as a desert and all she could do was pant for breath and try to fan her face off.

That didn't seem to help at all. The dizziness increased, and (Y/N) knew she'd probably alert anyone else in the house from the noises she was making by trying to bring back all the air that had left her lungs, so she reached her shaky hand to turn on the sink and let the water running.

(Y/N) was prepared for situations like this  — she had guided Tony through it once — but all that knowledge flew out the window and her breath kept growing ragged. Her dizziness mixed some of her memories together and jammed them up into a short film, swirling everything together and none of it made sense for her. It felt as if she was back there in the light powered engine, her ears ringing with the blasts she had received that day and her eyelids shutting close just like they had done the moment the jet crashed into the trees and the rest was history.

By now, she had leaned back into the wall of the bathroom to stabilize her figure. (Y/N) had one hand glued to the wall and the other keeping the towel wrapped around her body, feeling the sweat gather in her skin along with her shaky chest trying to catch her breath.