Unexpected

Tears in the Stairwell

I flew down the stairs, whipping around the turns at every floor so fast that I had to cling to the railings to keep myself from charging straight into the walls. Even so, it wasn't fast enough. I had to get away from him. Farther and farther way! I couldn't see my feet anymore or the stairs, instead that fateful night in the fridge replayed as I remembered the hungry cruelty in Ed's eyes as he attacked, his hands groping my body mercilessly, his words that had dripped with threats like poison. In my blind dash I miss-stepped, missing who knows how many stairs in my clumsy, hasty sprint for escape.

Pain like fire rocketed up from my ankle and I tumbled forward down the flight of stairs, landing in a heap of limbs at the bottom. Tears had already clouded my vision, now they redoubled from the pain as I whimpered, pushing myself up to lean against the rails. I pulled my legs up to my chest, holding myself, trying to reassure my myself that the hands that I felt weren't really there. My breath was ragged, my heart racing as fast as I had been going, and sweat, cold and clammy, seemed to coat my body.

What was wrong with me? Had I just suffered a panic attack? A legitimate panic attack? Why? I thought I had buried and gotten over all of this long ago! I hated Ed, truly I did for what he had done to me, what he had tried to do, but after his mind had been stolen by Loki's scepter I had thought I'd made my peace. Did it really only take seeing that monster of a man again to send me into an insane-asylum-level panic?

I had squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to block out the sights that my mind kept replaying, but it hadn't helped. Instead I focused my gaze on my feet through my knees. My feet were real. They were a part of the present. They were bare. Why were they bare? I'd been wearing shoes hadn't I? Flats... they must have flung off my feet in my mad dash.

I couldn't stop shaking. I could still feel his touch on my body. It made me feel dirty, grimy, clammy, like I needed a shower. Too bad. If I tried to stand up I feared I would keel over. What kind of S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was I huddled here in the stairwell, barefoot, shaking, and sobbing harsh, cracked breaths as I tried to pull myself together?

"Penny?"

I cringed at the voice. Even though it was whispered, in the vaulting stairwell it seemed far too loud and echoy. I knew who the voice belonged to. It was masculine, but it wasn't... wasn't Ed. I felt another tear slip down my cheek, but I hurriedly tried to wipe it away along with my other tears. Steve couldn't see me crying like this. It was too late already, I knew, but still.

"Penny." Steve crouched down into a squat, giving me some distance and dropping his height, probably trying to not seem intimidating at all.

I let out another slow, shaky breath before I looked up to meet his eyes. They were soft and oh so blue. I knew these eyes so well. I'd seen them cry and laugh, glint with humor and cockiness, and stare around in confusion. They were good eyes, soothing eyes, the eyes of my friend. They weren't Ed's eyes. My lower lip quivered again and I dropped my face back to my knees. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey," he cooed like I was a small child, "Don't apologize." He gave me a second to regain my breath, "Penny, what happened?"

"It was him."

"Who?"

"Remember... do you remember when we had that talk about New York? You told me about what the Avengers were doing during that time and I told you about my captivity?"

"Yes..." His voice was tentative, not sure where I was going with this.

"Remember when I told you that... that I was... almost..." why couldn't I say it? It was just a word. A word I've said before in reference to what had happened to me. I'd told him before. Was it just because I could feel his harsh grip on my arms that I couldn't squeeze out the word? "raped?" My voice was so small! Had Steve even been able to hear?