AN: Wow okay so I am in absolute love with Quicksilver aka Pietro Maximoff aka Aaron Taylor-Johnson and that is where this stemmed from. One look at that quick bastard and I knew I was done for. So here's this thing I wrote. This is just the first of what seems to be a long thing but hopefully I can stick this one out. I don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to writing long fics like this ugh.
Also, potential trigger I think? So here's a trigger warning just in case. The story immediately starts out with the OC having a panic attack and I know sometimes just talking about or reading certain things can trigger people, so a warning just in case.
Lavender paced the floor, wringing her hands as she tried to hold the sobs in. Tears were streaming down her face and she couldn't stop the anxious feeling from crawling through her chest. It was dark in the room, the only light being faint from under the door. She couldn't calm herself down and her breathing wasn't returning to normal.
She had been awake for a little over ten minutes and normally her panic attack would have subsided by now, but she seemed to be having trouble calming down. The pacing normally helped, but tonight it seemed to just be doing harm. The more she paced the smaller it seemed the room was becoming. She had to get out of there: she felt like she was suffocating.
Lavender threw the door open harder than she needed to, but she couldn't help it. She ran down the long hallway, aware that the others were sleeping. Normally she would go to Natasha if she was having a particularly bad episode, but Natasha was out. She was just going to have to deal with this one on her own.
The hallway seemed to be closing in on her as well and she quickened her pace, thumping down the steps and bursting through the back doors that lead to the training area outside of the base. She took in a deep gasping breathe as she sat on her haunches, clutching at her hair as she tried to steady herself.
Her mind was working a mile a second, streaming through thoughts she didn't want to think. Lavender couldn't suppress the images of the others coming back, bloody and bruised. She couldn't suppress the image of Tony laying on the ground, his reactor dim as he heart finally stopped. She couldn't suppress the thoughts of, "Death is always imminent."
She covered her eyes as the tears continued, trying to calm down.
"This is why they don't need you. You can't do anything right. You're so weak."
She cried out, wishing the thoughts would stop.
"You don't do anything but hold them back. They can't even go out without having to worry about you back here all by your lonesome, too weak to defend yourself. Pathetic."
"Stop!" she cried, pounding her fists to her temples, falling forward and barely catching herself.
Her breaths were coming out raggedly now and she was sure she would pass out at any second, face down in the dirt. She couldn't get her breathing to even out and her cries were becoming hysterical. She was right about herself. She was pathetic.
"Hey… hey!"
Lavender choked as someone kneeled down in front of her, putting their hands on her shoulders.
"Are you alright?" the accent was thick and she knew who it was, even though her tears obscured their face.
"P-P-" she hiccupped, running a gritty hand across her running nose.
Pietro Maximoff merely looked at her and she felt even stupider.
"You can't even hide your weaknesses from them. How long are you going to drag them down? Quit being so selfish!"
She sobbed, shoulders shaking as Pietro helped her to her feet, holding her close to him to steady her.
"Hey hey hey, it's okay. It's okay," he shushed her, leading her to the pavilion that the recruits were allowed to rest under.
She merely shook her head in response, failing to breathe through her nose and coughing. He set her down on a bench, kneeling in front of her to try and get a look at her lowered face.
Lavender wiped furiously at her face, grabbing fistfuls of her shirt to stop herself from shaking.
"Nightmare?" he asked, one hand placed soothingly on her knee and the other placed on the bench by her leg.
How could she explain to him the gut wrenching feeling she had? The emptiness she felt during the day? The hatred she felt at night? How did she explain a lifetime of self-loathing to a stranger in one sentence?
"Y-yeah," she sniffled, and she realized her heart rate was starting to slow. She could feel the warmth of their bodies mingling in the chill of the air and she realized it was probably around midnight, if the moon's position was anything to go off.
He merely nodded his head, rubbing her knee. She knew he was often plagued with nightmares, as she often heard the shouts and screams from the room he shared with his sister.
She wiped messily at her nose with the hem of her shirt and she brought her hands up to run through her hair, taking deep breaths. He was still staring concernedly at her and she wished her would look anywhere else than at her, at the mess that she was. At the failure that she was.
"Would you like a few more minutes out here to breathe and then head back to bed?" he asked her.
The thought of her room, of the dark cramped space that she occupied in this place that she shouldn't, made her feel sick to her stomach. She wouldn't be able to sleep in there and she knew it.
"Yeah, I do," Lavender attempted a small smile but it probably came out a grimace. Nothing she did ever turned out right.
He nodded his head at her and she sighed as she wrapped her arms around herself, leaning forward to place her elbows on her thighs. This causes him to remove his hand from her knee and though that subtracted warmth, she felt better that he was no longer touching her.
He didn't say anything to her as he let her breathe, but the silence was horrible. She may not have been panicking, but she was still thinking, which was worse. She almost wished he would say something to her, but she knew she wouldn't be able to say anything back. It was a lose-lose for her either way and really, that's all she deserved.
"Have you calmed down now?" he asked quietly and she realized he had stood up.
Her heart kick started at the thought of entering that dark room, but she stood and nodded towards him. He placed a hand on her upper back and led her back to the back door, even opening it for her. She folded in on herself more.
They walked quietly back to her room and the hallway seemed to stretch. Lavender just wanted him to go away, so he didn't have to deal with her anymore. She felt horrible that he was sacrificing sleep just to make sure he was okay. He shouldn't have to do that. Not for her. She wasn't worth it.
They walked by his room and she saw Wanda, his sister, standing in the doorway, looking worriedly at the both of them. She could see Pietro shake his head from the corner of her eye and she felt the tears spring to her eyes. She also noticed he intended on walking her all the way down to her room.
"Oh no, you don't have to walk me to my room," Lavender quickly told him, stopping in the middle of the hall.
Wanda took a step closer towards her in order to lean on the doorway and Pietro just shrugged.
"But I want to," he smiled at her and she averted her gaze, letting her hair cover her eyes slightly.
She shook her head at him, "I think I can find my way from here, you don't have to do anymore. But… thank you. I mean, for staying with me."
His smile widened and she could see Wanda smiling softly as well, "It's okay."
She quickly turned on her heel and trotted back to her room, slipping in and shutting the door. The dark engulfed her, but she was quick to turn on her bed side lamp. She sighed as she sat heavily on the edge of her bed, running a hand through her hair. Her nose was still stuffy and her chest was achy, but she didn't feel as bad as she had.
She scooted back on the bed in order to pull her knees up to her chest. She leaned her head against her knees and sighed again.
It looked like it was going to be another long night.
