Of Love and Mischief (MCUxReader)

Thirty Seven

Two weeks. It had been two weeks jam packed with your friends spending every waking minute with you. They made sure you ate at least three times a day, and stayed plenty busy so that you didn't have time to stress about anything.

They thought it was working.

~That's because they're all weak idiots.~

No. It's because you'd gotten pretty good at hiding your inner turmoil.

~You shouldn't have to hide. Hydra wanted you just the way you are.~

Hydra wanted to use you.

~No. They wanted you to meet your full potential. Which you cannot do here.~

You rolled your eyes at your inner voice. The ongoing comments were your normal now, and sometimes they -you?- had a point.

Suppressing your powers and emotions drained you. The nightmares hadn't stopped even though you'd tried everything Bruce came up with. Eventually you just told him his most recent concoction was working. In reality you were dumping the nightly dosage down the drain, then laying on your bed to spend a few hours in Demon's realm each night.

Wherever he'd gone, he wasn't coming back.

Like any other guy, he got what he wanted and bailed.

~Apparently your cunt wasn't sweet enough to stick around for.~

Vulgar much?

~Sorry. Besides, you're a good lay. His loss.~

Yeah. His loss.

So why were you still coming here every night? Well, it was the only place where you could go to release your pent up powers without worry of getting caught or hurting someone. It was also a way to avoid the nightmares.

Unfortunately, your nightly sleep avoidance routine of pouring endless iridescent blue shadows into the lake left you drained and tired.

Cue the unhealthy addiction to RedBull.

Since they'd been your favorite before, nobody batted an eyelash at the constant can in your hand. Once, Bruce had commented on how unhealthy they were and that you should cut back. You brushed him off, saying that you only had one a day, you just sipped at it because you liked the way it tastes, made you feel happy, and the carbonation helped ease your stomach after meals. The only lie there being that you only had one a day. It was more like one six pack a day.

You were good at not eating too. Taking small bites, cutting food up, pushing it around on your plate, you kept up with the conversation at the table as a distraction from your plate. What few bites you did manage to get down always sat like a rock in your gut until you found an appropriate time to excuse yourself from the group to evac your stomach.

Aparentally, the six plus RedBulls you had a day were enough to keep your body going. Probably due to whatever serum Hydra had injected you with that increased your body's healing properties.

Either way, thanks to that and your nightly power dumps, Bruce was ready to do an evaluation on if you were well enough to start training.

In reality you were way worse off than you had been the first time you'd asked to be cleared.

Today was a bad day.

You'd accidentally fallen asleep last night resulting in a night terror of epic proportions. Seems your dreams were angry at being pushed aside and had upped the ante. You'd woken up when you'd accidentally ran straight into your bedroom wall, sleep walking... running? You curled up right there on the floor trying to calm yourself until the sun rose through your window wall.