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What if they're coming to kill me?

What if they kill all my friends and I'm the only one alive?

What if my powers go crazy and I kill the people I love?

What if I'm the bad guy and Lucy's the good one?

What if I killed a lot of people and I can't remember it?

What if something really bad is about to happen and there's something I should do to prevent it?

Hazel's whole body was shaking tirelessly as she squeezed her hands against her ears, her eyes shut while she moved back and forth on the bed.

She could barely hear the sound of the pouring rain outside, or the sound of her friends chatting trivially in the living room. The only thing she could hear were the catastrophic thoughts that were making her cheeks burn and her hands sweat. She wasn't rationally realizing she was having a panic attack, but the feeling was that of the coma she had been in for quite a long time. It was the feeling of being alive, of being surrounded by people, but not being able to reach them with her conscience. As if she wasn't strong enough, her own thoughts were preventing her from getting the help she needed, and she was drowning in sorrow as the thoughts became scarier and scarier.

It wasn't until the door opened and the person standing in front of it got almost blown away by her powers that she realized what was going on. Hazel carefully opened her eyes, her body still shaking as she raised her head enough to see Steve on the ground, his hands behind him as a support as he observed the mess that the room had become. The wardrobe had fallen, all her clothes scattered around the room as the glass desk standing next to him had been completely broken, shards laying dangerously on the ground. The lamp had exploded, Bruce's books had been ripped open and all her trivial belongings had been pushed away from their position. Small flames of green power were still silently burning around the room, but they slowly faded as Hazel concentrated enough on them.

"Oh my god," she whispered, terrified, as Steve carefully stood up and walked around the shards of glass to reach the bed where Hazel was sitting.

"What did I do?" she whined, looking around herself with wide eyes. She couldn't believe that her power had been so destructive, and that she hadn't even realized it until she was almost on the verge of hurting someone.

The realization made her move her head towards Steve, who didn't seem hurt in the slightest.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I'm sorry, really," she stuttered, moving her shaky hands towards him. He did the same and in no time she was embraced by his arms, tightly wrapped around her.

This whole time Steve's hugs had been a reassurance from the dangers of the world. She would always feel safe and sound, but it wasn't the same, where the victim was the same person as the threat. Steve could protect her from anything, but not from herself. And, worst of all, he couldn't protect himself from her.

Steve was out of breath, as if he had made a long run to reach her, and he looked as terrified as Hazel was, but his expression softened when he looked down at her. He wasn't scared of her, he couldn't have been in any circumstance, but he feared what her thoughts could lead her to. He knew she was strong and independent, it was one of the things he had loved the most about her, but he knew that her past haunted her, and the only worst thing than a depressing past is it turning into something even worst.

"It's ok, Haz, it's ok. But you need to let it out. Don't pretend this isn't affecting you severely, because it is and we all noticed it. Just let it all out, I'll be here every step of the way," he mumbled, trying to squeeze her tightly in an attempt to take all her pain away.

Life | Steve Rogers.Read this story for FREE!