Stucky's daughter

81

My voice faltered, guilt creeping in, "No..."

Bucky's voice held a mixture of concern and sternness, "Okay..."

My attempt to retreat upstairs was thwarted, the weight of their worry evident.

~2-3pm~

Peter's arrival brought a momentary distraction, his voice a friendly presence, "Hi, how are you feeling?"

My response held a hint of optimism, "Good..."

Curiosity got the better of Peter, his voice inquisitive, "What did Liz mean by 'you know what we were talking about yesterday'?"

Caught in a web of uncertainty, I stumbled over my words, "I-uhm, I-I don't know..."

Ned, however, was eager to share the truth, his voice slightly rushed, "But I y/n was lying! She hadn't eaten—"

My voice cut through, a mix of frustration and vulnerability, "Alright, stop!"

Emotions surged within me, and tears threatened to spill as I averted my gaze.

Y/n's voice held a blend of resignation and regret, "Dad..."

Steve's voice, a mix of disappointment and concern, prompted further explanation, "Really? You're lying to us? We're the bad guys because we're trying to help you?"

Caught between a confession and a plea for understanding, my voice wavered, "No... Dad, I'm really sorry, I, uhm... I..."

Bucky's voice, unyielding yet tinged with compassion, cut in, "You'll never see Liz again, and you'll be homeschooled."

My plea grew desperate, my voice tinged with desperation, "No, no, no, Dad, please!"

Bucky's resolve remained unwavering, his voice a shield against my pleas, "We can't trust you."

I acknowledged their stance, my voice a mix of acceptance and sorrow, "I know... I'm sorry, but—"

Steve's voice held firm, a final declaration, "No! No 'buts'! Just why can't you accept yourself? You're too thin! You must eat! Everyone can see your ribs through your body! You're just perfect, okay?"

My voice, heavy with frustration and sadness, countered, "No! And I want to change, not you! It's my body! My life! Please!"

Bucky's voice, unmoving, asserted, "You will eat."

My voice trembled with a sense of vulnerability, "Dad, please stop..."

Tony's voice carried an air of authority, "Y/n, you will eat."

My plea for leniency persisted, my voice a mix of frustration and anguish, "I hate you, Ned! I hate you!"

Peter, defending his friend, spoke up, his voice resolute, "Hey! Stop, he's my best friend!"

My voice, charged with anger and hurt, erupted, "You killed my best friend, you jerk!"

Pepper intervened, her voice a call for order, "Stop, all of you! Why don't we have a family meeting? We can talk in peace."

Though met with resistance, the notion of a family meeting prevailed, and we all gathered to discuss the situation.

Bucky's voice, a blend of patience and concern, began the dialogue, "Y/n, why are you doing this?"

Vulnerability seeped into my voice, the weight of my struggles evident, "What?"

Bucky's voice probed gently, seeking understanding, "Why don't you eat? Why do you... cut yourself?"

My admission was a whisper of pain and isolation, "Because I feel fat, and because I feel alone..."

Steve's voice, a mixture of reassurance and sorrow, sought to penetrate the darkness, Steve's voice, filled with conviction, countered, "But you aren't!"