Duyên || Clint Barton

033 || breaking point

•••

My sobbing didn't let up as I drove away, desperate to just get home to Nat and hide under the covers away from everything that was suddenly reminding me of them.
Pulling up at the compound, I didn't bother parking the car properly as I stumbled inside, heaving breaths alerting Steve of my presence.
"Grace are you okay?" He asked, jumping up from the sofa and rushing over to me just as my legs gave out from underneath me.
"I thought I could do it" I wept, clutching onto his arms, "I couldn't - I couldn't"
As the panic fully consumed me, I distantly heard Steve shouting for Nat as he pushed my hair out of my face.

Slender arms wrapped around my torso, lifting me off of the floor and moving me to the bedroom as I cried. Before I knew it I was hyperventilating, my hand flying up to the faint scar left on my neck as my eyes widened.
"She's having a panic attack" Steve pointed out, "Buc- Bucky had them a lot at the beginning"
"What do I do? I don't know what to do"
"With Bucky I had to give him space, but Sam said everyone was different - Wait - Grace is it okay for us to touch you?"
I nodded disjointedly, my hands gripping onto Nat's blindly as I tried with great effort to regain control of my breathing.
"I've never seen her this bad" Nat murmured, rubbing soothing patterns on to the back of my hands whilst Steve slowly rubbed up and down my arms, trying to do anything to ground me.

When I eventually calmed down, I looked up at the two, realising they were both crying too.
"'M sorry" I said, speech slurred slightly, "didn't mean to"
"It's not your fault" Nat whispered tearfully, drawing me into a hug, placing my head on her chest as she stroked my hair softly, "you did a good thing for them, okay? You did good"
Steve got up to leave but I grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit next to us, and he eventually joined the hug, slotting himself behind Nat. We stayed like that until the sun came up, whispering words of reassurance every time the room got too quiet.

•••

No one spoke of it that morning, after my fifth time apologising they'd banned the conversation entirely. Instead I settled for making them a tower of pancakes each, needing something to keep my mind from wandering.
I knew I'd have to message Tony at some point, but the simple idea of that at the moment was enough to send my mind reeling back to pure panic.
"What's the plan today?" Nat asked softly, "anything in particular?"
"I had an idea, but I don't know if you'll like it"
The redhead frowned slightly, but followed me anyway, the two of us arriving back at the gym.
"Why would this upset me?"
"Ballet"
"Grace - no"
"Hear me out. We do it together and we do it for fun. We don't have to be good, we're just two people dancing"
"We don't have the shoes"
I produced two pairs of shoes, one beginners pair and one pointé pair, from one of the lockers in the corner of the room.
"How long have you been planning this?"
"Long enough"
She gave me a hard stare, before sighing and gesturing for me to pass over the shoes.
With a little happy squeal, I passed them over to her, watching with awe as she put them on with practiced agility.
"FRIDAY play my ballet playlist"
Modern piano started to play softly through the speakers as I clumsily put on my shoes, Nat snorting when I almost tripped over my own foot.
"This isn't like any ballet music I've danced to"
Nat's voice was hardened, refusing to show me the anxiety that welled within her at the mere thought of dancing ballet again.
"That's the point" I shrugged, copying her warm up exercises, "this isn't about routines. This is about us doing ballet - well, you doing ballet and me looking like a dying elephant"
That broke through her quickly built walls, a small burst of laughter escaping her.
"I'm sure you're not that bad"

Long story short, I was. In fact, Natasha spent most of the time just watching me try to copy her moves and laughing when I failed. I would've gotten pissed off had she not realised that she was dancing, freely and whilst laughing, and just like that her passion was her own again.
"I give up" I groaned, calf muscles groaning in pain, "can I just sit and watch you?"
"But - I don't have a routine to this song"
"That doesn't matter, do improv"
"You don't improv ballet"
"Oh yeah? Who said that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow challengingly.
Nat tutted, pointing her finger at me accusingly.
"I see what you're doing"
"That's the point. You helped me, I help you. This all one big fuck you to the red room. You're taking back the beauty of ballet for yourself, so I'll ask again who said it?"
"Madam B"
"So what do we say to that rule?"
Nat's lips split open into a grin, straightening her posture as she prepared herself to dance.
"Fuck that"