The Anniversary of the Battle of New York had passed just a month ago. A year ago I'd woken up in hospital – I'd been in pain, I'd started having nightmares, I was scared, I was weak. I had my friends and I was well looked after, but it didn't make anything easier. I was convinced I was going to die – I was going to die in a blaze of glory, wounded and fighting on in the field as I always had imagined, but then I survived. I didn't know how to cope with that.

And I would tell anyone I was suffering, but slowly everyone found out.

Bruce Banner

Bruce discovered it first – he refused to leave me alone in the hospital and heard me waking up from my nightmares, later, after the panic attacks began, he was the first person I told.

I screamed as I sat up in bed. I couldn't breathe, my throat closed up. I sobbed; my heart racing in my chest as tears flooded down my face. My whole body trembled. I put my hands to my face, hiding my tears. I wept loudly in the quiet room.

I froze as I heard the door open.

"Amanda?" It was Bruce.

"Uhh, I… it's… um, just…" I couldn't get out a proper sentence, and I wouldn't able to get him to go away.

Bruce turned on the bedside light, "Amanda? Are you alright? What happened?"

I twisted away from him, "Nothing, I'm… it's nothing"

He sat carefully on my bed, "Amanda?" He put his hand on my shoulder, "Manda, you're shaking"

"It… it's nothing" I breathed harshly.

"Amanda… Amanda, look at me" I bit my lip and tried not to cry. Nightmares I'd gotten used to, but this was different. Slowly I twisted back round, bowing my head, avoiding Bruce seeing my face.

Bruce cupped my cheek, softly running his thumb across my cheekbone. My breathing hitched. He tilted my head back; gazing down at me he wiped the tears from my face, "What's wrong? You can tell me"

"It was-" my voice cracked, "it was just a stupid nightmare"

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No. No…"

"Does anyone else know about-"

"No! No, you can't tell anyone. They're going to let me out tomorrow, if they find out that-"

"It's okay, it's okay." Bruce rubbed my arm soothingly "I won't tell anyone..."

AVENGERS

I'd been out of hospital for a fortnight now. I was staying in one of the many S.H.I.E.L.D. owned flats in New York, not far from Stark Tower. I would have stayed there, but I quickly realised that if my nightmares continued I'd be back under supervision for the foreseeable future – if I could avoid that, I would.

I would have been completely fine on my own, but then the panic attacks started. I couldn't deal with that on my own, not again. I picked up my phone, dialled in the number, it rang, and rang, "Hello?"

"Hey Bruce"

"Hey, what's up? Are you okay?"

"Um, could you... could you come over, please?"

"Yeah, sure – is everything okay? Do you need me to bring anything?"

"No, but don't let Tony know- I mean, don't let him know that something's wrong."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure"

"Okay, I'm on my way – I'll be twenty minutes tops"

"Thank you"

"It's okay"

There was a knock on the door and I immediately let Bruce in. Quickly I shut the door. "Hey, are you okay?" He hugged me close. I shook my head, wrapping my arms around him. "Tell me what's wrong, Darling"

I smiled slightly at the nickname, leaning my head against his chest, "I'm having panic attacks again... I- I needed to tell someone"

"That's okay, I'm glad you told me." He rubbed my back gently, "How often are they happening?"

I swallowed, "Um, every other day."

"How many have you had?"

"Eleven in two weeks."

He took a deep breath, "Right, okay, okay. It's going to be okay"

Phil Coulson

Phil had always been like a father to me. Once we'd been reunited, he quickly realised that there was something wrong that I wasn't telling him about. I'd told him, I had to. He'd reassured me that I was going to be okay, that he'd be there for me from then on – and he was.

Tears streamed down my face, I could barely breath. My knees were pressed up against my chest. I was hyperventilating, making my chest ache. I screwed my eyes shut and a sob escaped my lips. I heard the door open; my head snapped round to see Phil standing in the doorway. I nodded for him to come in.

He shut the door and came to sit beside me. I uncurled myself and clung on to him. Phil hugged my carefully, letting me sob as I tried to breathe steadily again. Eventually the tears stopped, but my breathing was still harsh. "Shh," Phil soothed, "Shh, you're okay, you're alright"

I nodded, but it was hard to calm down. But Phil stayed there and waited for me. He always waited for me

Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers

Then Natasha and Steve found out. I was sure Nat already knew, she wasn't surprised when I had an attack. Steve was worried – he didn't know what had caused me to become so fragile, so weak, so scared. Tasha went into autopilot, following procedure – remove unnecessary stressors (people), give them space, let it happen. Steve wanted to comfort me, he wanted to hold me and make sure I was safe. They both tried their best to do what was best for me.

I ran, turned a corner, another, then another before half collapsing down to the floor, my back against the wall. I couldn't breath. I brought my knees to my chest and brought my forehead to my knees. My breathing was frantic now. My lungs hurt. Tears sprung from the corners of my eyes. I gripped my hair with both hands and let out a harsh sob.

Soon there were firm hands on my shoulders. I knew they were there but I couldn't move. I wished they'd just let me get on with this bloody thing. "Go away" I whined between breaths, "please, please… please…"

More people came around me. The hands on my shoulders were comforting but as people grouped round me I could feel claustrophobia rising inside me. There were too many. I felt crushed.

"What theHelldo you think you're doing?!" My chest hurt. The voice was Natasha; she was angry. I couldn't breath. "Get back!"

People moved away. The hands on my shoulders stayed. With one hand I let go of my hair and grasped onto the nearest hand, the warm comfort of that hand soothed me slightly, not enough to help but enough to give me hope.

"Steve," Tasha's voice was softer, "you need to give her space." So it was Steve's hands. It was him. "Steve," Tasha stressed again, "sheneedsspace."

He stayed for a moment longer before taking his hand off my shoulder, "Amanda?" Steve sat beside me, close enough for me to feel his presence, still holding my hand in his "Come on, you can do this"

I gulped but I couldn't breathe any slower.

"Amanda, I need you to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth – you can do it." Steve's voice was calm but he spoke with an authority I needed to sort myself out. It took me a while, but I began to do it; in, out, in, out; nose, mouth, nose, mouth. In, two, three, four; out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…

My eyes were still shut but I put my head back against the wall and let my legs slide out in front of me. Deep breaths – takedeepbreaths. Steve rubbed his thumb back and forth over the back of my hand; I focused on that feeling, I focused on that warmth, that comfort. I shuddered as I breathed in, gulped, then quickly sighed, again, and again, and again.

Tony Stark

I'd stayed a few days at the newly rechristened 'Avengers Tower' with Tony. He confronted me the first night, he recognised the signs. We sat down and talked about what it was like for both of us. We promised we'd be there for each other when we needed it.

"It's okay you know" Tony said out of the blue.

"What?"

"Panic attacks, it's okay"

I froze, hesitantly I asked, "How... how did you...?"

"We're on the same boat, Manda. Been there, done it... still do. Come have a seat"

We sat side by side, me with my legs curled up beneath me, "How are you coping?" I asked quietly.

"Honestly, I'm not. I'm just... getting out the way when it happens"

"Same"

He looked at me with complete understanding. "We're going to be okay, we are"

"Yeah, we are"

Tony wrapped an arm around my shoulder, rubbing my arm gently, "We'll pull through"

Clint Barton

Clint was upset when he found out, he was upset that I was hurting and he didn't know. We'd looked after each other since day one; we were the kids of the group. He had hugged me, apologised for not being there when I needed him – I'd told him it was okay, but he refused to listen, like always. There was lots of hugging and I may have got a little emotional.

"Hey Manda"

I smiled, "Hey Clint"

"Where have you been? Been missing you."

"Aww, ain't that sweet" I teased.

"Get your butt over here" he laughed. Grinning, I joined him at the table, leaning against the edge. I smiled, ruffling his hair. "How are you doing, Manda?"

"I'm good" I lied

His face fell slightly, then he frowned, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing"

"I know when you're lying, remember. What happened?" he stood up, standing close to me, protectively.

"Don't worry about it, I'm fine"

"Uh-hu? Last time you said that you hadn't slept properly in months and passed out the day after. Stop lying to me, babe" he put his hands on my shoulders.

"I..."

"Manda?"

"I'm having bad nightmares again... and I've started taking panic attacks again too"

"Oh... Oh Amanda" he hugged me tight, shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry. I should have been there, I should have known something was wrong"

"No, don't worry about it – I'm getting by"

"You shouldn't have to!" he said firmly, leaning back to look me in the eye, "It shouldn't just be getting by, you should have someone to help, you should be able to rely on someone to help you through it. Who else knows?"

"I've tried to keep it to myself – mostly just the team, really. I wasn't telling people but if they figured it out I wasn't going to lie"

His jaw clenched, then he hugged my tightly; one hand on the back of my neck, the other on the small of my back. "I swear, I'm going to be there, okay? Whenever you need me, whenever you need anything, just call me okay? I'm going to look after you, I promise, I am"

Thor Odinson

I don't think Thor completely understood, but he was supportive – he told me I was a brave warrior, that I had suffered but I would be helped through by my friends. He swore too that he would do everything in his power to protect me from anything that could make me have an attack – I told him that it wasn't possible, but he swore to try none the less.

"What does that mean? Does it hurt you?" Thor asked with concern.

"Well, yes in a way – but it only hurts on the inside. It makes me struggle to breathe, and cry a lot. But it's mostly emotions, and it hurts more emotionally than physically. There are certain things – called triggers – that could cause a panic attack, like a news report on the Battle would probably do it, but sometimes there is nothing to start one"

He nodded solemnly, "I think I understand. It must be a challenge to live with such a trial, but you are a brave warrior Amanda, and with your friends by your side you will recover from this suffering."

"Thank you, Thor"

"I will do my utmost to shield you from these 'triggers', Amanda."

"Thor, you can't really protect me from them"

"But I will try, my very hardest"

I smiled, humbled by a God swearing to look after me, "Thank you"