You were 24 hours away from leaving for a quick intel gathering mission to D.C., but as Steve and Clint prepared to go, it was all you could do to keep your mind focused on the task at hand; breathing. There was an ache in the pit of your stomach, your hands trembling ever so slightly. It was so slight that maybe the others wouldn't notice, but to you it felt like they could shake the world. Sitting in your room, you at least felt secure in your solitude.

What if I screw this up like I did last week?

What if Steve thinks I'm an idiot?

What if I'm just not good enough to be an Avenger anymore?

Someone could get hurt because of me.

Your own inner turmoil was eating away at you. The ruminations over unlikely scenarios only fed into the self-doubt and anxiety about things that weren't even within your control. It was too close to deployment for you to use your medications, since they made you groggy and definitely unsafe to wield any sort of weapon.

I'm gonna lose it, I can feel it. They're all going to see this. What am I gonna do?

Okay, (Y/N), we need to calm down. Just breathe...in...out.

Ok, maybe I can do this. In...out...

~~~

Barely just one week prior, you were on a search and rescue op with the Captain, working undercover to infiltrate a HYDRA science lab. As you entered the lab and spoke with 'fellow scientists' in your false persona, your anxiety began to rise within you. The fear of being caught was overbearing, and it nearly cost you the mission when you were frozen with fear during the extraction. Steve knew full well about your struggle with anxiety but refused to treat you with kid gloves. He trained you to be a fighter almost as good as Natasha, and your wit easily matched Tony's. You should exude confidence, but your brain had its own agenda.

"(Y/N), I understand that this is difficult, but you need to find a way to get this under control. I can't lead a mission and have to worry about this, and to worry about you." Steve was sitting next to you as the jet carried you both home. Regretfully, he shook his head at his own words. "Wow, that sounded harsh. I didn't mean for it to."

"I know."

"I do worry about you, (Y/N). Have you tried talking to Tony? He might have some insight?"

You scoffed at this, "yeah, we've talked. He has his own methods that might not work so well for me."

Steve was confused now, looking at you curiously with an eyebrow raised. "His own methods?"

Leaning back against your seat, you let out a small laugh. "Yeah, he creates murderbots, remember?"

He gave a quick tap to your knee and stood, looking down at you with a smirk. "Point taken."

~~~

As you clasped the final buckles of your safety harness closed, the clicking of the metal was so loud in your head that it was near maddening. The only thing louder was the sound of your own racing heartbeat.

Not now, please...

This is simple, come on. Just drop in, get the files, and get out.

But what if there's someone down there? What if I get caught? Steve will never let me go on a mission again.

"(Y/L/N), are you in position?"

Taking a deep breath to calm your voice, you whispered into the communicator on your wrist, "Yes, Captain, I'm here." Another deep breath. "Drop in 30 seconds."

"Ok, Barton and I have the perimeter guarded. Let's make this quick."

Just jump.

Jump.

Oh my god, (Y/N), jump.

If you don't jump you're off the team for sure.

Don't let Steve down again.

Jump.

Your harness pulled tighter as you rappelled down the side of the building, searching for the window that led to the mainframe computer. Once it was in sight you pulled your equipment from your belt, ready to remove the glass and make your entrance. You were quite the master intruder.

Once in, it was all very quick. The data retrieval itself was easy. It was getting back out that concerned you. You had estimated that once you began to pull the data from their systems, you had 5 minutes before they would come for you. On any other day, on any other mission, that wouldn't even enter your mind as a problem; but today, your brain had other ideas.

You'll never make it out that fast. It was a mistake for Cap to choose you for this.

Did you get the right information?

You had better start climbing.

I can't feel my hands.

Breathe. Slower.

You began your ascent back to the roof of the building, your hands growing more tremulous and sweaty as you climbed higher. Your breathing was labored and tightness filled your chest.

You're gonna fall off the damn building.

Did you hear something?

A sense of impending doom and fear washed over you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you attempted to force it from your mind, trying to rationalize it away. In reality you were doing well and had just made it to the top with ease. In your mind, however, you had barely made it and your anxiety was at its peak.

"S-S-Steve, are you there?"

The continued rapid breathing began to make you feel faint. Your uniform was soaked in sweat, and your heartbeat was so fast and so strong that you swear you could see your chest moving violently with each beat. Laying your body down on the cold surface of the roof helped a little, but from there you quickly realized that you were going to move no further.

This is it. I screwed this up.

Again.

I can't move.

This is it.

The door to the roof slammed open, Steve charging thru with his shield in front of him. His eyes frantically searched the roof surface, and when he finally found you he ran to your side.

"Grab on to me! I've got you!" The sounds from the jet above you were drowning out his voice, though he had you secure in his arms before the words were fully spoken. Clint lowered the jet as close to the roof as possible, allowing Steve to make the jump for the both of you.

~~~

"Hey, (Y/N), how are you feeling?" As you sat alone at the rear of the quinjet, you were trying desperately to stay in the moment. He held out his hand, offering you a glass of water. Opening his other hand, he encouraged you to take the small pill from within it. You picked it up, skeptical.

"What's this?"

He sat on the floor next to you, resting his head back against the wall. "It's for my anxiety. I got 'em from the doc in the infirmary. I know you didn't bring yours." Your head snapped up, shocked, as he began. "I haven't really told anyone about this, but I had a really difficult time adjusting after I was pulled from that ice. I was thrown into a world that I didn't know anymore. I began having nightmares about the war, and Buck...and..." His voice trailed off for a moment, then he straightened his spine and continued. "I would go for days without sleeping. I was really scared that I would lead the team into danger and someone would get hurt because of me. That I would lose another friend because of a choice that I had made. Those thoughts wouldn't go away."

You lowered your head and closed your eyes. "That's how I feel all of the time, that I'm going to let the team down, or someone will pay for my mistakes." With a deep breath, you looked up at him with weary eyes. "I'm just so tired of it, you know? I can't have you saving me every time I go out there."

"If that's what I have to do, then that's what I'll do. I'm not going to kick you off the team, (Y/N)." He put his hand over yours. "We'll work on this together, okay? I think maybe we can help each other." Rolling your hand over, he exposed the small pill still within it.

"Let's start now."