Peter approached me with concern in his eyes. "Come on, tell me what's wrong. What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.
I stared out of the window, my gaze fixed on nothing in particular, and replied in a soft voice, "Nothing."
Disappointed, Peter left, and as dinner was being prepared, I could hear everyone calling my name, their voices echoing through the house. But I ignored them, my heart heavy with a burden I couldn't bring myself to share.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching the stairs, and a desperate idea sparked in my mind. I quickly pretended to be asleep, hoping to avoid any further questions or concerns. The door creaked open, and in walked Steve, Bucky, Thor, and Tony.
They shook me gently, trying to rouse me from my slumber. But I remained still, pretending to be lost in dreams. Thor, sensing my act, scooped me up effortlessly and carried me downstairs, his strong arms cradling me like a fragile bird.
I continued my pretense, keeping my eyes shut tightly as Wanda noticed my deception. She mischievously decided to tickle me, hoping to coax me out of my facade. I reluctantly opened my eyes, and she relented, realizing that my pain ran deeper than a mere game.
I sat up, my hands nervously toying with strands of my hair. Sensing my unease, Bucky reached out and gently took hold of my hair, deftly braiding it with tender care. Anxious, I bit the inside of my mouth, feeling the sharp pain as my teeth pierced the delicate flesh. A metallic taste filled my mouth as a trickle of blood ran down my cheeks and onto my tongue.
Determined to maintain a façade of normalcy, I mustered the strength to stand up. But before I could make a move, Thor gently guided me to a chair at the table, concern etched across his face. I looked away, attempting to steady my breathing and act as though everything was fine, as if the weight on my soul was but a fleeting shadow.
Steve spoke up, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and worry. "Alright, you won't eat? Must we feed you like a little kid?"
I met his gaze briefly and shook my head, silently refusing their attempts to care for me. Their collective eyes remained fixed on me, waiting for a sign of surrender. But I couldn't bring myself to eat, to partake in the simple act of sustenance.
I mustered the courage to rise from my seat, only to have Clint grab hold of me, firmly anchoring me in place. In an unexpected turn, Bucky claimed my chair, and I reluctantly found myself seated on his lap. I struggled against his grip, yearning to break free, but he held me tight, his intentions veiled in a desire to nurture me. Despite my resistance, he attempted to feed me, but I stubbornly refused to open my mouth.
With a mix of desperation and determination, Bucky covered my nose, forcing me to gasp for air, and in that vulnerable moment, he slipped the food into my mouth. My tear-filled eyes reflected my torment as I fought against his grasp. Finally, I managed to escape his hold, and in a state of distress, I fled upstairs, seeking solace within the confines of the bathroom.
Behind the locked door, I swiftly cleaned up the mess I had made, the traces of my anguish hidden from prying eyes. I hesitantly opened the door when someone knocked, revealing Clint standing before me. I tugged at his grip, attempting to break free, but he lifted me effortlessly and led me downstairs.
As I resisted, striking out at him, Bucky eventually guided me to a chair, his grip unwavering. In a whisper, Morgan approached me, her innocent eyes filled with concern. "Come on, we'll eat together. It's really good," she urged, oblivious to the pain etched on my face.
With tear-streaked cheeks, I gazed at her and whispered, "I know, but I'm not hungry, sweetie."
She regarded me with a mix of confusion and worry, her innocence unable to comprehend the depths of my struggle. Tony chimed in, his frustration evident in his voice. "If you won't eat, we will feed you!"
With a heavy heart, I declared, "No one can force me to eat," but my words fell on deaf ears. Bucky locked his gaze with mine, assuming his position once more and slowly, painfully, began to feed me. I fought against his efforts, desperately trying to resist, but Steve and Clint held me firmly, refusing to release me from their grasp.
After they managed to feed me, I weakly struck Bucky, the blow lacking the strength and conviction I had intended. Tears streamed down my face as I recoiled from my own actions, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions swirling within me. My strength wavered, and I crumpled to the floor, succumbing to the weight of my pain as I retched and vomited.
Tony rushed to my side, scooping me up in his arms, and carried me to the bathroom. Meanwhile, the others diligently set about cleaning up the aftermath. As I recovered, I remained seated by the toilet, feeling lost and broken. Steve approached, gently cradling my face, and with a tender touch, he wiped away a single tear that cascaded down my cheek.
A mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability enveloped me, leaving me feeling utterly powerless. Steve lifted me into his arms, carrying me to my room. Bruce appeared, concerned, and took my temperature, finding no immediate cause for concern. Perched on the edge of consciousness, I drifted into a fitful sleep.
The morning arrived, and I prepared to face another day. But before I could leave for school, Bruce approached, his worry evident as he took my temperature once more. Finding it within normal range, I reluctantly proceeded to school, the weight of the previous night's events clinging to me like an invisible shroud.
The day began uneventfully, until math class, when a small folded note landed on my desk. Intrigued, I opened it, only to be met with words that pierced my soul: "OMG Y/N, she's so ugly, fat, and annoying. Can't even look at the board with a body as repulsive as hers!"
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I hastily left the classroom. The principal was summoned, and the concerned teacher hurriedly explained the situation. "She ran away. I don't know why. Please call her parents and inform them that she received a poor mark in mathematics," the teacher pleaded, her voice filled with urgency.
With a mix of trepidation and fear, I glanced at my parents, their eyes filled with worry and confusion. Moments later, Bucky seized my arm, his grip tight and unyielding, pulling me away from the torment of the school. Still, I kept my gaze glued to the ground, my heart heavy with a pain I could not easily express.
As he fastened my seatbelt, tears streaming down my face, Bucky drove me back to the sanctuary of the compound. My arm was taken, and I was led inside, my body dragged with a numb resignation. Morgan noticed my arrival, rushing to embrace me in a
tight hug, but Tony gently pulled her away, his expression stern as he directed me to sit down.
I complied silently, my eyes downcast, feeling the weight of their concern pressing upon me. And yet, I remained stubbornly silent, unable to find the words to convey the depths of my pain. The room grew heavy with an oppressive silence, anticipation hanging in the air.
Bucky, unable to bear the silence any longer, approached me, his eyes searching for answers. His strong arms enveloped me in a hug, but my body stiffened, the wounds within me still too raw to accept his comfort. I squirmed, desperate to break free from his grasp, but his hold remained unyielding, determined to offer solace in a world that seemed devoid of it.
As the minutes passed, exhaustion consumed me, draining what little energy I had left. I slumped to the floor, defeated, my spirit crushed beneath the weight of my anguish. Steve, unable to bear witness to my pain any longer, knelt down beside me, his voice filled with both frustration and genuine care.
"What happened?" he implored, his voice cracking with emotion. "And don't tell me it's because of dance class." His eyes searched mine, pleading for honesty, for a glimpse into the turmoil that held me captive.
Sobs wracked my body as I continued to seek refuge in Bucky's embrace, my words caught in a tangled web of fear and shame. My attempts to speak were stifled by the overwhelming torrent of emotions that threatened to consume me.
Steve, his own heart heavy with worry, retreated downstairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room. After what felt like an eternity, he returned, this time accompanied by Bucky. They entered the room, their eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination.
My body remained curled up on the bed, my spirit drained, but as Bucky approached, his arms outstretched in a gesture of comfort, I flinched instinctively, my scars still too fresh to bear further touch. I stumbled backward, retreating from the vulnerability that lay before me.
The room grew still, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Bucky and Steve exchanged glances, silently communicating their shared concern. Together, they resolved to help me find my voice, to mend the broken pieces of my shattered soul.
In a final act of defiance against the pain that plagued me, I forced myself to stand, tears streaming down my face. With trembling hands, I brushed away the remnants of mascara that stained my cheeks, revealing the truth beneath the carefully applied mask. Bruises adorned my body, stark reminders of the battles I fought in silence.
I sobbed, the weight of my pain too overwhelming to bear. In a moment of desperation, I ran upstairs, seeking refuge within the sanctuary of my own solitude. The room swallowed me whole as I collapsed onto the floor, my body wracked with convulsions of anguish.
Steve followed, his footsteps echoing in the hallway, a silent promise of unwavering support. He found me crumpled on the floor, broken and defeated. As he reached out to embrace me, I recoiled, my wounds too fresh, my trust too fragile.
He retreated downstairs, his heart heavy with the ache of my suffering. But he returned, determination etched across his face, accompanied by Bucky. They entered the room, their eyes filled with empathy, their hearts longing to heal the wounds they could not see.
Bucky's arms enveloped me once again, his touch gentle yet firm, refusing to let me slip away. I struggled against his grasp, my body a battleground of conflicting emotions. But he held me, offering a steadying presence in a world that had become a swirling vortex of pain.
Steve, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and tenderness, implored me once more, "What happened?" The air grew heavy with anticipation, the room teetering on the precipice of my revelation.
Through broken sobs, I mustered the strength to speak, to share the torment that had consumed me. The words spilled forth, a torrent of anguish and vulnerability, as I recounted the horrors endured in silence.
They listened, their eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination, vowing to be my pillars of strength. In their embrace, I found solace, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that had shrouded me.
And as I drifted into an uneasy slumber, their presence remained, a beacon of light in a world that had seemed so relentlessly dark.