Peter Parker Imagines Book

Coalescence

46. "I'm dying inside."

Missrivermalfoy, you wanted heartbreaking, and I...got carried away. Took 6k to even get to the prompt type of carried away. Enjoy!

Warning(s): semi-graphic descriptions of violence and gore.
Post-Endgame (also post-TFATWS but really only in reference)

"Morning Y/L/N. You're up late." Bucky's voice was distant as it filtered through your ears. "Hey, are you okay?"

Your feet stopped cold in their very slow moving tracks as you entered the kitchen, looking up with tired eyes to see Bucky and Sam as they sat at the island counter eating breakfast. A third plate was set up for you, glass already full with what had to be room temperature juice at this point. Maybe slightly chilled, but that would be pushing it. You really had woken up later than usual - almost by two whole hours.

"What d'you think?" You asked sluggishly, your voice hoarse and cracking from the pain it caused to speak with a raw throat. You owed that and your burning eyes to the trip to the bathroom you had just made to empty the already empty contents of your stomach.

"Not gonna lie man," Sam shook his head, taking a bite of his pancakes before stating the obvious, pointing at you with the prongs of his fork. "You look like shit."

You could only manage a small chuckle of agreement as you sunk into the barstool next to Bucky. You knew what you looked like. You felt the exact same.

Glancing at the plate of food in front of you, you inhaled sharply as the smell filled your senses. Immediately, everything inside you repulsed, wanting nothing more than to chuck the plate across the room - even if that meant you would be picking up the shattered glass, sticky syrup, and crushed blueberries afterward.

Nostrils flaring, you slid your head into your hands and squeezed your eyes shut and you tried to focus on anything but yourself. The light was bright and harsh, although it was just the natural light filtered through the kitchen curtain. A headache made it seem like your brain throbbed inside your skull. Your gut yearned for something to eat, but you knew you wouldn't be able to keep down the food in front of you, no matter how much you wanted to eat it. Bucky's apartment was small enough - you didn't want to take the chance you would vomit on the couch.

"Not feeling pancakes today?" A hand reached over and pulled your plate across the counter away from you. Looking up, you saw that Sam was now standing in front of you situated on the other side, already in the process of putting your untouched food away. It wouldn't surprise you if he or Bucky had caught how repulsed and conflicted you must have looked about eating. "I was gonna make a big sloppy mess with what Buck said he had in stock, but the fridge was cleaned outta all the meats I was gonna put in before we even got back."

You did your best to answer, not knowing exactly what came out of your mouth as a reply. Some form of combination word and grunt. The ransacking had been your fault. A three in the morning feast with horrible consequences. They had wanted to go outside, but you refused. You fought to feed yourself another way.

The lunchmeat had gone first; ham and roast beef. It hadn't even felt like you ate anything although it had been thirty slices in total. Then went the eggs. Desperate and not in complete control, the shells left small cuts in your hands as they were breaking them at a careless speed. But that still wasn't enough. Still not what you were looking for. The only thing left was the ground beef in the freezer.