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ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴅɪɴɴᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜰᴜɴ

***

You'd said hello to everyone politely, and sat down at the table.

You really didn't feel like eating but you forced yourself. After all you felt rude to decline - Wanda had cooked this especially.

You tried like your life depended on it not to make eye contact with Steve, though he was right in your eye line.

Bruce and Tony were talking about more science stuff but you didn't speak their language and you zoned out quickly. It was only when you heard your name that you snapped out of your daze

"Yeah?" you asked, sounding tired

"I said are you feeling better now?" It was Tony. You caught Steve looking at you from the corner of your eye but kept your gaze firm on your dads face, perhaps firmer that you should have as Tony shifted back in his seat, darting his eyes down, clearly uncomfortable.

"Yeah I'm fine, just um- girl stuff, you don't want details" Someone choked on their drink. You forced away your smile and turned to look at the rest of the team. Bruce was coughing.

"What Bruce? Something go down the wrong way?" You saw Nat smile at you, Wanda too.

"I .. no , um ..... yeah I mean I-" Bruce stammered. Everyone was watching you, some shyly from the top of their dinner plates. He started to blush.
Bruce banner.
The Incredible Hulk.
He was utterly terrified of you and you loved it.

"Well I'll admit I didn't take you for having a weak stomach, being the big green guy and all." You smiled with a hint of sarcasm.

A long silence.

A very long silence.

Nat and Wanda were still smiling, so was Thor. Where Thor came from women's bodies worked different. Telling him with Nat so he could sympathise with Jane had been hilarious. He kept pointing to the things me and Nat had lay out and asking questions like 'what of these cotton sausages?'

Bucky was smiling too, you knew he could handle it. You also knew that Bruce could control his transformation most of the time but to be honest you weren't fully sold on the idea of him changing into a huge green guy here at dinner. So with a very heavy heart,
you left it alone.

"Okayyyyyy.....if we are done here..." Tony started and cleared his throat. You let out a soft low chuckle, these boys around you were warriors, they had seen bloodshed, seen death. They had killed people. You often found yourself smiling at the idea that they couldn't stomach the idea of the "natural inner workings" of a woman, Tony called it.

Babies.

You caught someone still smiling at you across the table - Bucky. You looked at him and returned it, genuinely.

****

When all of you were finished with your dinner, you headed to the living room and sat down in your favourite armchair in the corner by the piano.

Everyone was having their own conversations.

Loki and Thor were engaged in an argument once again.

Tony, Nat, Bruce and Clint were standing in a group over the pool table.

Wanda was with vision.
Bucky with Steve.
Everyone had their crowd.

You felt out of place.

Not forgotten about, no, they would always include you when you wanted them too: you just felt wrong. Like you didn't belong here, like you were just Tony's daughter. Not an avenger, not actually a part of them.

You sank back farther in your chair, it was nearly midnight, you weren't tired, you were unsettled. More than awake if anything. You were most worried about Steve walking over to you and starting a conversation, so worried that you bid goodnight to your dad and headed hurriedly to your room.

             ****

You paced up and down. You felt energetic, riled up.

Your heart started to pound in your chest quicker and heavier and quicker and heavier with every second. After a while your hands started to shake gently, and breathing became difficult.
You were having a panic attack.
You had them enough to know the signs.

So how could you stop it?

You stopped walking and stood on the spot, concentrating on your breathing - In... and out.... in .... and out..... You didn't know how to cope with these, the doctor had given you a diagnosis, yes, and the therapist had given you techniques like to count things in the room, but none of them worked and you hadn't told her.

So you usually just waited them out. You went down to sit on the edge of your bed, cross legged, hands on your knees, rocking back and forth slowly. You felt trapped in your head, you felt scared. And alone.

Having struggle controlling your breathing, you started to cry until your eyes were sore and your cheeks were stained. You sometimes wish you had someone to help you through these, but nobody had ever seen one and would probably not know how to help you.
You knew it was selfish but the last thing you wanted was someone sitting next to you, silent, unsure of what to do.

You did know that Bucky had them, you'd seen him on the roof one night sitting against the wall, his knees hugged into his chest breathing hard. You wanted to go over to him and to help him, but you were too scared. You had good intentions but you couldn't shake the feeling that nobody wanted you to help.

You earned yourself 3 cuts that night, for being such an unreliable friend. For not helping when you could've. But you were glued to the spot, and your thoughts persuaded you to leave him alone.

You had calmed down, your breathing was steady but you were still crying quietly. You managed to get some control of yourself and pull yourself to the bathroom.

                                       ****

You stared in the mirror for a long time, at your messy hair, your tear stained cheeks. At the mess that with every day passing you recognised less and less. Pale, tired, no purpose behind your eyes.

You let out a strangled sob and gripped the edges of the sink.

You pulled back the cabinet doors next to your mirror and slid open the draw concealed in the back. You slid out your knife. No one knew you had this, if they did they wouldn't care. Most of you kept multiple weapons in your room, you had to be prepared for any time of the day or night.

You placed it in the sink with shaky hands and eyed it.

It took every ounce of will you had in your body not to grab that knife.

You stared at it for a long time before leaving it there and charging back into your bedroom, slamming the door to the bathroom on the way there. And grabbing your head in your hands, pulling at your hair.

You felt pressure building up in your head, and your vision started to go blurry. You grabbed harder and harder-

a soft knock at the door.

You quickly straightened up your ponytail and wiped your cheeks. You took a deep breath, plastered on a smile and opened the door.