I sit on the couch on my and Bruce's floor of Stark Tower. Tony and Pepper are gone, so we are the only ones here. I am huddled up in my blanket. Damn Tony for putting us so high. There's a storm going on outside as well, so that has me nervous. Bruce isn't even out of the shower yet. So, to sum it up, I am just a little ball of anxiety covered in a blanket by myself. Lightning strikes outside, and it makes me jump. I turn the news on the television. I jump out from under the blanket when I hear something about tornadoes in our area. I don't like them. I don't like them at all. I can't stand them. They scare the hell out of me. My breathing starts to get shallow as I pace the room. My hands start fidgeting. I hear someone walking but I just assume it's me. I'm the only one in the room, after all. A loud clap of thunder sounds, and I jump so badly that I get off of the ground. I scream because my feet can't find the floor, and fall. I hear someone run over to me, but I just get up, and start pacing and fidgeting again. "Honey, are you okay?" I hear Bruce ask me. I can't do anything except pace. He tries to catch my arm, but he can't. "Baby?" He asks. I finally decide to go over and look out the window. Bad decision. I look down. God we're so high. It's so cloudy outside. Raining so hard. Lightning. Thundering. I've got to get out of here. "I've got to get out of here. Bruce, get me out of here. Get me out of here!" I yell at him. "Diana," he starts. "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" I scream. Tears start streaming down my face. My hands are shaking violently at this point. Bruce takes my hands in his own, and sits me down on the couch. "Diana, you need to calm down," he says. "No, I need to get out of here. Get me out of here!" I yell. He sits down behind me on the couch. Just when I move to get up, he seizes me again. He holds my arms down from behind, and crosses his ankles in front of mine so I can't move my legs. "Breath," he whispers in my ear. "Will you at least tell me why you're sitting here having an anxiety attack?" He asks. I've calmed down a little, so he moves one arm and places his hand on my back. "We're up really high and it's storming," I say. "Heights during storms or heights and storms?" He asks, his lips right behind my ear. He starts drawing little circles on the small of my back, soothing me. "Heights and storms," I say. Lightning strikes again, and I jump inches off of my seat. "It's okay. Everything's alright," he says. He finally lets my legs go, sliding down until we are both lying down on the couch. Another clap of thunder hits, and I flinch. I look out the window. God, we're still so high up. I start breathing a little shallow again, and Bruce pulls me back. He slips his arm over me. "Don't do that to yourself, Diana. Here, let's talk. Why heights?" I raise an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?" I ask. "Why are you scared?" I sigh. "I don't know. I mean, it's always been this way. I just can't stand being up high," I say, snuggling into his arms. "And storms?" He asks. He takes my arm, slides it out from under the cover, and starts tracing gentle patterns on it. "Same. I've always been scared of them. Nobody ever really pays any mind to it. They don't really care. That is until my eyes glaze over and I go so insane that somebody has to-" A stroke of lightning cuts me off. I tense my arm, and it starts to tremble. It doesn't stop. Bruce trails his fingers down my arm, and spreads my fingers out. He intertwines mine with his own. "That somebody has to what?" He asks. "Sedate me," I reply. I start taking deep breaths to calm myself. "That's it. You're doing great. Now just keep talking to me, and we're going to go to the bedroom, okay?" He starts to get up. "Okay," I say, getting up with him. "No, stay down there for a second. I want to make sure there's nothing-" It was too late. I had already gotten up. A loud clap of thunder sounds, and my eyes get wide. I scramble to get back up on the couch. I look out the window, wide-eyed and thoroughly frightened. My breathing starts to get shallow again. "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. You're fine. Diana, are you hearing me?" He asks. He grasps my shoulders. I nod slowly. "That's good. We're going to go to the bedroom now, okay?" He says. "Can you stand up for me?" He asks. I try to move or say something, but it's not working. I just can't. "It's okay," he says. Bruce turns me around, away from the window, running his hands up and down my arms. "Breath. Just take some deep breaths for me," he says soothingly. My hands start fidgeting again, but my breathing slows. Carefully, I make my way to the bedroom, Bruce behind me every step of the way.
We get there, and he sits me down on the bed, closing the door behind us. Lightning strikes again, and I flinch violently. I feel him sit down beside me. "Are you still hearing me? Diana?" Tears start pooling in my eyes, but I nod. "Can you do some of those deep breaths for me again?" He asks. I can, and I do. "That's it. Keep doing it," Bruce says. He puts me on his lap, and he starts rubbing my shoulders and back. "Talk to me some more," he implores. "About what?" I say around a laugh stifled by loose tears. I wipe my eyes, and he puts me down. "Anything. Let's start with why you're crying," he says, beginning to put on his pajamas. I get up, and start putting on mine too. "I don't know. Just scared. Storm's pretty bad," I say. My voice is strained, but understandable. I lay down in the bed, and turn off the light. He lays down behind me in a spoon position. Another clap of thunder makes me flinch. "Breath," he reminds me in a whisper. His arms come around me. "Keep talking. It'll make it better. Here, have you ever gone into that panic mode before?" He asks. "Panic mode? As in, a panic attack?" I question back. "Yes," he answers. "Yeah, only twice, though." He starts stroking my hair. "Can you tell me about it?" He asks. He always wants to know the damnedest things about me. "The first time, I was little. I think around nine or ten. I had to go have blood work done. They tried to draw my blood, and I lied and said I had to go to the bathroom. I locked myself in. I finally let them do it, but it took them forever to get me out of there and my mother restraining me. She held me down like you did in there, except it wasn't nearly as effective," I say. He kisses my neck. "What about the second time?" He asks. "The second time was when my eyes glazed over and they sedated me. I was over at my cousin's house for New Year's, and it started storming. I freaked out, and he held me down while his wife put the needle in. I was out before he let go of me. God, I was scared to death," I say. "What's going through your head when that happens?" He asks. "Everything is blank. You don't know anything except the fear that constantly goes through your head. The only thought you have is, 'I'm going to die'," I tell him. "Honey, feel that," he says. He pokes my stomach, and it's hard as a rock. "Your body is still on the defensive, even laying here with me. It's still tensed," he says. "I might be able to do something about that," he adds. He turns me over, and presses his lips to mine. He starts caressing my stomach, and I feel the muscles unclench. He pulls away. "Better?" He asks. "Much," I reply, turning back over. He slides his hands underneath my top, and starts massaging my stomach, relaxing everything from there. He stops, and slips his arms back around my waist.