Agent XX

Part Five

**SMUTTY** (Also knife kink disclosure)

Tonya's POV:

My eyes blinked open to the blinding lights of a foreign room. I scanned my surroundings, an empty med room where I was hooked up to all sorts of contraptions and machines. Bruce entered the room as I rotated my head to break the stiffness in my neck, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth was as I opened it to speak to him.

"Good morning, Tonya." He moved about the room, checking my vitals and the other machines I wasn't familiar with. He sat a glass of water down on the table next to me before walking across the room to some computers. I gulped down the glass of cold water, my throat was still dry but I could probably talk now.

"What happened?" My voice was frail as Bruce scooted over on his little stool.

"I was hoping you would be able to answer that one," he gave me a sympathetic smile, "Do you remember anything about what happened?"

"It's all a bit fuzzy, I had just come back inside from wherever Bucky had taken me. Umm. I went back to my room and suddenly I couldn't breathe." The panic that I had felt then began to creep back in.

"It's okay, I think I can guess from there." Bruce started typing something on a little wristband before turning back to me. "I think you had an anxiety attack."

"Why would I be anxious?" I scoffed, there was no way that I had a panic attack.

"It's actually pretty common for people with PTSD, I'm just not quite sure what triggered it." PTSD? Isn't that only for like, war vets?

"Where's Bucky?" I didn't even realize I was asking the question before it slipped out of my mouth. Bruce only glanced at me before telling FRIDAY to send in Steve and Nat. He gave me a soft smile before slipping out of the room, letting me know he'd be back to check in on me.

"Hey kid, how you feeling?" Steve's familiar voice greeted me as he walked towards the bed, standing at the end as Nat followed close behind him and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Can't say that I'm at my best but I feel pretty normal," I gave them a sad attempt at a hopeful smile, "How long was I out?"

"A couple days." Nat answered hesitantly as she nodded slightly.

"You hyperventilated and almost died, so that's pretty expected. We actually thought you would be out longer." Steve chuckled, trying to lighten the mood of that very serious statement.

"Where's Bucky?" Why the fuck did I care so much? Nat and Steve exchanged a worried look before turning back to me.

"He left after- the incident. We haven't seen him since." Steve looked solemn as he answered my question, clearly he felt as if Bucky's disappearance was his fault in some way. I nodded, biting my lip slightly. Nat and Steve tried to make normal conversation, telling me of all the funny moments that happened while I was under, but my mind couldn't wander away from why Bucky left. It was all my fault.

It had been a week since I woke up, I was finally cleared to go back to training. Not that anyone wanted to train with me after what happened last time, leaving me alone in the large space. The panic attacks continued, the methods Tony and Bruce had taught me only partially worked, I felt as if I had a buildup of tension inside of me, just waiting for it to bubble over and explode. My mind rushed with possibilities of where Bucky could have gone and why as I pummeled into the punching bag, knocking it off its hook with my final blow. I hung another bag as I restarted the cycle. I couldn't think of any scenario where Bucky returns to the compound, he ran away. For good. I needed to get over it already. It was his decision to leave.