Hey guys! Just wanted to share my story, since you've been very generous in sharing yours with me- I could've been Amy.
At age 5, I started having severe panic attacks. It got to the point where I would be removed from the classroom, sobbing, and placed in the principals office to calm myself down. The principal insisted my father either heavily medicate me or home school me.
My father knew there had to be something about school causing my anxiety, since I was much less anxious at home. He told the principal to piss off and hired a lawyer to fight them off while he got me the help I needed- my anxiety at school was triggered by eye problems that made keeping up in class difficult.
MY Dad is my hero- without him, I wouldn't be where I am today. If I had to keep living so afraid every day, afraid to leave the house, dreading school, shaking uncontrollably- I probably would've tried to kill myself. It was only my young age and my instinctive desire to survive that kept me from killing myself. It was really rough time, but we worked through it- I still deal with anxiety, though not NEARLY as severe, and I'm currently taking all AP classes in high school and working on finishing up the prerequisites in order to enroll in nursing school.
Mental illness often carries a stigma, and many people are ignorant about it or just plain afraid to speak about in in public. It's a taboo that'd done far more harm than good- ignorance is the number one thing stopping people from getting treatment. People who don't know there sick won't go to the doctor. Sop remember- if your feelings start to interfere with your daily activities, or you're just struggling in general, it's okay to get help.
Things WILL get better as long as you put effort into seeking treatment, because as cliche as it sounds, feelings are like clouds- they pass over.
My Dad taught me anxiety and mental illness is an obstacle, not an excuse- and that mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. It's okay not to be alright, guys. It's okay to be afraid, to be upset- but, when you can't function, or when you just feel unhappy, it's time to seek help. I just wanted you all to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always here. So, yeah- my Dad's my hero, mental illness shouldn't be something to be ashamed of. Anyways, enjoy! Stay wild! :)
ALSO FEATURING LOKI! PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK ON HOW MY CHARACTERIZATION OF HIM IS! ;)
Steve was huddled in the waiting room, crying. The staff tried not to stare, to give the man privacy- Nick himself was finding it hard not to stare. One little girl had inadvertently compromised the world's mightiest heroes.
They took shifts with her- Natasha spent her hour braiding the girl's chestnut locks with shaky hands, blinking rapidly to keep her eyes dry, murmuring soothing words in her mother tongue.
Thor spent his time in the room running his knuckles over her cheek affectionately, face alternating between grief and rage at whatever had made her feel so lost.
Steve spent his time staring at her, eyes frantic to take in every detail- the unbreakable man had been reduced to tears more than once, knowing she probably wouldn't be here the next morning, and he alternated between holding her hand and kissing her forehead, whispering in her ear that he loved her and that everything would be alright….
Bruce threw himself into the medical side of the work- he was constantly monitoring charts, mouth set in a firm line, teeth grit as he scribbled aggressively on her file, checking vitals and monitors- every now and again he'd get a haunted look on his face, normally followed by an incredible sense of familiarities- he'd tried to kill himself before- then nausea, disgust- how had he not seen the signs sooner? Before he'd dash out of the room before he cried or hulked out, and continue working feverishly on keeping her alive.
Clint had run out of tears, and he just sat, hands steepled, elbows resting on his knees, lips pressed to his fingers as though praying, blood-shot eyes anxiously taking in every detail, as though to try and take in every single moment they had before she was gone.
Tony didn't move. He kept silent vigil at her bedside for hours on end, holding her hand, alternating between praying, begging for her life, and cussing out a god as cruel as to make her do this…. He held her hand and stared into space, dully dreading the moment when the monitors would confirm his worst fears.
Steve was with him, most of the time, and though they shared no words, they drew strength from each other- Steve would go and get coffee for the billionaire, who hadn't moved in six hours, and they'd simply sit in the room that was absolutely silent save for the steady beeping of monitors and the little girl who'd won their hearts hanging in limbo on the bed.
Steve punched the wall at one point, fist going right on through, this rare display of anger alarming the staff and prompting another call to Nick Fury, but Steve sat back down like nothing had happened besides Tony, continuing his vigil.
Nick ultimately ordered them to simply up security, since honestly, he couldn't blame Steve.
Had the staff stayed a moment later, they'd have seen the tears pooling at the corners of the soldiers eyes, the way he looked at her dully, realizing all too late what a quote he'd heard during his teen years meant You never know what you have until it's gone.
She'd been expecting to simply fade out, to just cease existing. So the first thing she felt when she realized she was alive was pain- screaming, gnawing pain. She'd wanted it to be OVER, but she was still here….
She couldn't even cry out, then, as white flashed before her eyes and pain rolled over her in waves she'd never thought possible. It felt like she'd been thrown into a cement mixer and dragged across a coral reef….
A soft green light resuscitated her, bringing her back to herself, and the pain slowly ebbed away. For a moment she just sat, staring at the back of her own eyelids- flesh colored, illuminated by the sunlight, and grass- how the hell was she laying on grass?
She opened her eyes, confused and disoriented, to find a man staring down at her, with concern etched into blue-green eyes. He gave her a small smile as he saw she was coming to, but said nothing- he must've known she wouldn't be able to process anything had he spoken anyways.
As things stopped blurring and she blinked sluggishly, he came into focus- he had long black hair, defined cheekbones, and a lithe body dressed in a green t-shirt and black dress pants.
"I was beginning to fear you were lost." was all he said, voice coming out in a regal way that was somehow familiar, but she couldn't place it.
All she could do was moan for a moment, before slowly sitting up- her whole body ached, honestly, but she had to ask- "Am I dead?"
"Close, my dear- you've sat on death's doorstep more times than any child should. Unfortunately, you won't be dying today."
She groaned, laying back. Tears sprang to her eyes, then, and suddenly she was crying, whole frail body shaking with sobs….
The man pulled her into his arms, brushing her hair from her face. She instinctively buried her face in his chest and simply cried, and he didn't say a word, simply rubbing her back and letting her.
"Fuck…." she choked out thickly. "I can't even off myself right…."
"You would've succeeded had I not intervened." the man said drily, no humor in his voice. "I don't like it when my efforts are wasted."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she sniffed, not meeting his eyes. She was still shaking.
"You were missing for three days, captured by forces of nefarious intent. You damned them all, as well as yourself, and tried to kill yourself, to spare yourself the pain of starvation…. I intervened."
She held still- a slight whine escaped her throat as the memories came flooding back, playing before her eyes like a movie- All the unexplained fragments of nightmares came together like one hellish movie- gunshots, frantic cries of damned men, broken glass, the smallpox, the way her chest burned as she downed a bottle of peroxide… the man.
The way the doors parted before his outstretched hand in an a flash of green- the way that, even as she laid there, too weak to move as her insides destroyed themselves, he strode over pointedly, his gaze softening slightly as he picked her up, his voice speaking smoothly in a tongue she didn't know before all the pain, all the fear- was gone….
She'd hung on for three days. The doctors had only given her hours to live when they first came in, and even the nurses were whispering about it in the hallways.
Fury couldn't help but be glad- she was strong, maybe she'd make it.
He was getting periodic updates about his team- Tony had yet to leave the hospital or change his clothes. Steve brought him meals which he barely touched- he hadn't slept, hadn't really done anything but hold her hand and look at her.
Bruce came in quietly, like he'd done for the past two mornings, gently peeling the bandages off her wounded upper arms and studying the cuts carefully.
He nodded to Tony, who was staring at him anxiously. "No infections. She's doing fine."
Tony nodded quietly, watching wordlessly as Bruce put antiseptic on the wounds and wrapping them again.
"Any fever?"
Tony shook his head, eyes never leaving his daughter.
"She's hanging in there, Tony. She's strong." but even Bruce found it hard to believe when he looked down and saw how small the kid really was.
"You remember me?"
She nodded, simply closing her eyes and burying her face in his chest yet again, making a pained whimpering sound… the memories hurt, and she started to shake more violently.
"You're safe, child- I didn't let them hurt you anymore. I'd hoped my intervention wouldn't be needed again, but clearly, my idiot of a brother is incapable of caring for you successfully…."
Her shoulders had begun shaking with quiet sobs, and the man looked down at her and frowned, brushing away the tears. As soon as his hand made contact with her skin, the fear dulled to an unpleasant throb, much more manageable….
She looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. He smiled triumphantly. "I'd hoped those memories could remain locked away for you- but clearly, you need to know the full story."
She looked up at him, baffled. "Why did you save me?"
His expression darkened. "Because you are worth it, my dear- I don't need any other reason."
"But you have to have one. You saved me once before- why help me a second time?"
He blinked, before he sighed. "You, my dear, caught my attention. We run in some of the same circles, you see- and fate was very unkind to you. So I intervened- I've always had a penchant for trying to save the damned."
"You shouldn't have wasted your time with me…."
Her head was jerked up then, as he cupped her chin in his hand forcefully, making her meet his eyes.
"Do not ever say such things." he hissed vehemently. "Fate is a cruel bastard, and you deserved none of what you were dealt. Nor did you deserve the consequences, the nightmares, the pain…. You are so young. I will not let fate ruin you, too."
She found that slowly, her sadness ebbed away as she looked up at him, and she was growing curious. Her eyes widened when she noticed the green light flowing in tendrils around her, and she clung to the man all the tighter, frightened.
"What are you doing to me?" she asked, slightly alarmed as she eyed the light warily.
"Trying to fix you. I saved you the first time- stopped the chemicals from destroying you. I can do the same with the mind- restrict it, keep it from destroying you. Stop the pain. Would you like that?"
She nodded hesitantly, reaching out to try and touch the green light with her hand, curious- it slipped through her fingers like air.
The man laughed slightly at the surprise on her face. "Magic- ways so ancient, even the wisest men cannot explain it."
She nodded- slowly, things were brightening around her- as though the world had been dim at first, and now she was seeing everything in color. She rested her head on the man's shoulder, simply feeling the pain melt off her like snow in the sunlight….
"You will still be breakable after this- however, you'll have overcome the traumas that led to our meeting." he said calmly.
She nodded, pulling back and looking him in the eyes. "No more nightmares?"
"None, I promise you. Unless fate tries to expose you to some new trauma, one I haven't already healed…."
"I don't think it can throw anything else at me." she said, laughing dryly, and the man simply gave her an amused smile as the green light continued to flow around her. Suddenly her chin was quivering….
"Tony will be so angry with me…." she said, voice barely above a whisper.
"No. He'll be glad you've lived. You should be dead right now- your living will be one of the greatest gifts he can receive."
She chewed his perspective over- maybe he was right. Slowly, all the screaming in her head dulled to a dull throbbing, which faded into exhaustion as, unhindered, her mind realized just how exhausted she really was.
She sagged limply against the stranger- she had no idea who he was, but she trusted him with her life- he'd saved her before, and some instinct told her he'd help her again.
"Humorous how much mental pain can affect the body, yes?"
She nodded, agreeing with the statement as her eyelids grew heavy. For a long time they sat in silence, and she just enjoyed the feeling of being held, the smell of the man- he smelled like leather and something else she couldn't identify.
"It will be difficult, adjusting. I'm afraid it's time to part ways, my dear. When you wake up, your father will be the one to hold you- not me."
She nodded drowsily. "Thank you- for everything." she whispered hoarsely. She looked up at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly again- she didn't want him to go, didn't want to leave the sense of safety he provided.
"Will I ever see you again?" she asked, eyes anxious.
He smiled. "I am with you always, my darling." he brushed the hair out of her face, long fingers weaving through her hair delicately, soothing her off towards sleep.
She nodded sleepily, accepting the news, and pressed her face into his shoulder until she fell into sleep.
The next thing she was aware of, she was choking on a breathing tube.
Tony hadn't left the hospital in three days. He was unshaven, peach fuzz had developed into full on five-o-clock shadow, and his eyes had a dead look to them, a man devoid of any hope.
She hadn't moved- his eyes ghosted up and down her forearms for what felt like the thousandth time, seeing bandages but knowing every mark, every wound beneath… he'd memorized them all.
His eyes lingered on the bandages- evidence of his failure as a parent. He stared at them, unseeing, retreated deeply within himself for a moment….
When he looked up she was meeting his eyes, blinking sluggishly.
Tony gaped, wondering it was real for a moment, before he'd lunged forward and was hugging her, folding her into his arms like she was made of glass and he was afraid she'd shatter any moment.
She blinked blearily for a moment, surprised to feel him shaking, and she turned her head to see tears streaming down his face….
Steve strode into the room, a tray of food in hand, intent on making Tony eat something…. the tray clattered to the floor, and Steve stared for a moment before charging into the hallway.
"Bruce! BRUCE!" tears were streaming down his face, he pulled out his phone with shaking hands, struggling to dial Clint, Natasha and Thor, who were sleeping at the tower after keeping Tony company during the night.
Bruce shoved past him, running into the room, and Steve just slid down the wall, looking up. She was still alive. With that realization in mind, he pulled himself to his feet and staggered into the room.
Bruce stared at her vitals, gently leaning forward and pulling the tube from her throat. He was gentle, but it still hurt slightly, and she coughed hoarsely, feeling the relief of breathing on her own.
"T-tony?" she rasped, voice sounding like a rusty gate from disuse.
"I'm here. I'm right here…." he choked out finally, before he'd pulled her into his arms again.
She simply laid in his arms, eyes fluttering closed for a moment, feeling the heartbeat in his chest and knowing her was safe. She she came back to reality, she realized exactly how shitty she was feeling- her whole body ached, her throat was sore, and her eyelids were heavy, as well as the pounding in her head.
Her eyes lazily landed on Tony, though, on the emotion- the way it felt to be held.
"I missed you, Dad." she whispered hoarsely, before giving into the exhaustion and sagging against him, her battered body leaning against him as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Had she been able to stay awake a little longer, she'd have seen the tears running down her father's face.
She'd have to thank the green guy for saving her. That was the only thought she had as she drifted off, and the placid realization that she'd never even asked the stranger's name.
MAILBAG
SpeechlessMind, Chapter 35
Fuck! Wait I can swear right?! Well that word doesn't even begin to express the way I feel about this chapter! Everything was just hitting the fan, all hell just broke loose and ate up Amy and spitted her back out for all her family to bloody hurt to read, and the vivid imagery you perfectly convey across was descriptive and enhanced the emotional pain and stress everyone was just experiencing.
I would like to thank you for opening my eyes to see issue of self harm in a graphic and darker kind of way, it really enlightened me about the reality and really understand the possible amount of self burden/pain one who is going through it must be suffering. The severe temptation to end everything in just one go is what moved me through this, the rush of emotion was just the catalyse and really brought everything, in the end to a standstill.
So very intense. All the dark, sense of insecurity and death is really giving these past chapters an sharper , please, please I hope Amy does get through this! It bloody hurts!
Thanks again!
Feel free to swear- my vocabulary is 50% expletives, lol.
On a more serious note, though- I'm glad I helped you understand a bit more as to WHY people self-harm. It's not a phase, and it's NOT for attention. If someone si taking a blade to their skin, they're trying to self-medicate and cope with deeper issues, and need to be seen by a mental health professional asap, so they can live life without having to bleed out all the bad feelings. 1 in 6 teens self-harm, guys- you never know what wounds are beneath someone's clothes. Self-harm isn't something to be ashamed of- it is, however, an unhealthy coping method, and you should see a therapist immediately so your can FEEL better, and not need to cut to be okay.
*Blushes* I'm really glad you like my writing. I love how technical you get- like an english teacher, but in a cool, not-boring kinda way.
For me, what really sealed the chapter was the emotion. Amy just wanted to feel safe- the only place she feels she can safely cope with her panic attacks is at Avengers Tower. When they want to take her to the hospital or to a residential treatment facility, she realizes her already barely-manageable life is about to get a hell of a lot harder. So she does the only thing she can- she tries to off herself- not because she wants to die, but because she doesn't want to feel the pain of her entire life, her surroundings, going to shit. Suicide is her escape route- she doesn't want to be alive for the mental anguish being sent away will put her through. Yeah, it got really freaking intense at some points- I'm really glad you enjoyed it, and your take on the chapter was amazing!
Althea 13, Chapter 35
Would it be to much to ask if next chapter we got a tony pov from fury phone call then seeing steve crying on the hospital floor and pushing past bruce to see her? Idk why but I feel like that should be in the story, to show tony more. And damn, everything seemed alright like 2 hrs before
Sorry this chapter wasn't exactly as you described, but it's how I feel it'd play out. And we do get more Tony- Tony never gives up on her, stays beside her the whole time, we see his emotions, he blames himself in early chapters, but here, it's all drown out by his overwhelming fear of losing her. He can't think of anything else accept keeping her alive- he wants a second chance to fix what he's done, and most of all, he doesn't want to lose her, because she doesn't deserve any of this.
As for things going to shit in two hours- it happens fast. Amy's suffering from severe panic attacks and self-medicating with self-harm. Within a period of two hours, Natasha finds out about her self-harming and wants to admit her to the hospital. We see when Amy panics at the press conference that she doesn't do well outside of Avenger's Tower, and so she runs to escape back to her safe zone- the tower.
And once she gets there and sees the pamphlets on Tony's desk about being sent away, she realizes it was all for nothing, and that her life, her surroundings- the only thing keeping her sane- is going away, her faith in Tony is completely shattered, because he promised to never leave her, and she's going to have a hell of a time dealing with everything without her familiar surroundings and self-harm in treatment. She attempts suicide in an attempt to escape the anguish of leaving home. She's reached her breaking point- she feels she won't be able to endure any more emotional pain, so she attempts to end her life instead. Hope that helps put it into perspective here- she's like a caged animal, she sees no other way out. Death, to her, seems to be the only thing that can save her.
Thanks for reading! ;)
Amis55, Chapter 35
Stayed up till 5 AM reading this... Not a good idea when I work today lol.
Really? I didn't think it was that riveting. I mean, I thought the first few chapters are kinda spotty and unrealistic, but I'm glad you disagree! That's one of the highest complements you can pay so as an author *blushes, fidgets happily* so thanks! Glad you're enjoying it, and I hope you have a good day at work! :)
Please Review, guys. Even just an opinion or pointing out an error makes it better! :)