Liz's voice carried an air of practicality, a hint of urgency, "Alright... so, uhm, you can throw up by yourself, right? So do it, and in the meantime, I will go downstairs and bring us something to drink!"
Y/n's response held a mixture of uncertainty and resignation, "Uhm, okay..."
Fear gnawed at me, the realization that my secret was on the brink of being uncovered. The consequences of my actions loomed large, and I dreaded the thought of my dads finding out.
Liz's voice pushed forward, brisk and slightly impatient, "Okay, c'mon, go!"
I followed her instructions, feeling a sense of unease as I started throwing up. Five minutes later, Liz returned, her voice reappearing with a sense of practicality, "Alright! Good... uhm, now you will do some sport!"
Hours of intense training left me drained, my body aching and my mind exhausted.
Liz's voice held a weary gentleness, a sign of understanding, "Well, you look tired, so... let's go to bed."
My voice, heavy with fatigue, responded softly, "Night."
Liz echoed the sentiment, her tone conveying a weary but caring farewell, "Night."
~morning~
My dads woke us up, and the drive to school carried a subdued atmosphere, the weight of the previous day's events still palpable.
~p.e~
The physical education class was a grueling challenge, made even more daunting by the fatigue from the previous day.
A hurtful remark from a classmate stung, the teacher's tone urging me to push forward despite my limitations, "Y/n! C'mon, faster!"
Y/n's voice quivered, a mix of exhaustion and humiliation, "I-im so sorry, I-I can't..."
Gasping for air, my strength gave out, and I collapsed to my knees.
Peter's voice was a soothing presence, filled with concern and urgency, "Omg! Y/n! Hey, hey, hey, look at me! C'mon, look at me! Y/n, shhh, I will call your dads! Listen, your dads will be here in a minute, okay?"
His words were a lifeline, providing comfort as I clung to his presence.
Liz's voice interjected, a mix of encouragement and determination, "Y/n, c'mon, stand up! Think about what we were talking about yesterday!"
Summoning whatever strength remained, I forced myself to stand and resume running. But moments later, dizziness overwhelmed me, and I felt myself swaying.
Liz's voice pushed with insistence, "Y/n, c'mon!"
Peter's voice rose in defense, his tone protective, "Leave her alone! Y/n, come lay down, shhh—hey, your dads are here! Mr. Barnes! Here!"
My dads arrived, their voices a blend of worry and urgency. Steve's arms wrapped around me, his soothing presence bringing a sense of comfort.
Steve's voice, gentle yet firm, reassured me as he placed a breathing aid in my hand, "Everything will be okay... shhh, shhhh, shhhhh!"
Bucky's voice held a sense of resolve, "Alright, let's go home."
~at home~
I walked into the compound, my steps unsteady but my breathing returning to normal.
Clint's voice carried genuine concern, "Hey, are you okay?"
Sam's voice was filled with empathy, "Yeah, we heard what happened..."
My response was an attempt at normalcy, a mask to hide the turmoil within, "Yeah."
Steve's voice carried a tinge of suspicion, "Y/n, do you know how that could happen?"
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!"
My voice held a mix of uncertainty and self-doubt, "I don't know..."
Peter's voice, attempting to lighten the mood, brought a touch of humor, "Okay, put your hands up if you think that Y/n is fat!"
No one raised their hands, but a heavy sigh escaped me, my frustration evident.
Ned's voice, carrying a sense of remorse, offered an apology, "I'm really sorry... that I said the truth..."
Bruce's voice held a compassionate tone, "It's okay... we should thank you. Y/n must eat, and if she keeps lying to us, it could have serious consequences."
My voice, tinged with both skepticism and sadness, interjected, "I don't think you're bad people... but sometimes, you're just so—"
My phone's buzzing cut me off, and I saw that Liz was calling me.
Sam's voice, playful and teasing, chimed in, "Liziieeee?"
My voice clarified with a hint of exasperation, "That means Liz, dumbass!"
Steve's voice took on a fatherly reprimand, "Hey! Watch your mouth!"
My apologetic response was tinged with urgency, "Sorry... but I must go..."
Bucky's voice, protective and curious, inquired, "Where?"
My voice carried a mix of frustration and desperation, "Liz..."
Clint's voice held a tone of skepticism, "Of course not!"
My voice echoed the disbelief, "Omg... Why?"
Thor's voice explained with a touch of understanding, "Because of what we were talking about?"
Bucky's resolution was swift, his tone firm yet caring, "You will sleep in our room again!"
My voice protested, a hint of injustice in her tone, "No! That's unfair!"
Loki's voice, intrigued, sought clarification, "What is unfair?"
My response held a hint of sarcasm, my eyes rolling before I ran up to my room.
Bucky's voice held a note of frustration, "Open the door now!"
My voice, a retort laced with defiance, reminded him to mind his language, "Watch your mouth!"
A realization dawned on me, my own words echoing back, and I sought refuge under the bed.
Bucky's determination was evident, his threat serious, "Okay, I'm gonna kick the door in!"
With a resounding thud, the door swung open, and Bucky's voice softened as he addressed me, "Alright, doll, please come out..."
He lay down, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of concern and regret.
Bucky's voice held an apologetic tone, "Dolly, we are really sorry..."
My voice, subdued but forgiving, acknowledged, "Yeah..."
Bucky's plea was gentle, a request for understanding, "C'mon, please come out..."
My response held a note of reluctance, "Maybe later..."
Bucky's voice held a hint of patience, an invitation to open up, "Y/n..."
We shared a prolonged moment of silence, the weight of our emotions hanging in the air.
My voice finally broke the silence, her agreement tinged with resignation, "Okay..."
As I emerged from my hiding place, Bucky's arms enveloped me in a comforting embrace.
My voice, muffled against his chest, carried a mix of vulnerability and acceptance, "I don't want to go downstairs again..."
Bucky's voice, soothing and protective, offered a solution, "We can stay in our room..."
I nodded, and together, we walked towards their room, seeking the solace of familiar surroundings.
Bucky's voice, practical yet caring, suggested, "Dolly, please change your outfit. It's full of dust."
Following his advice, I changed into his shirt and shorts, finding a sense of comfort in his clothes.
Bucky's voice, laced with understanding, posed a question, "You'll never stop, right?"
Steve's voice, slightly puzzled, sought clarification, "Who? What?"
My voice held a quiet admission, a moment of vulnerability shared, "Nothing, Dad..."
With a sense of longing, I leaped into Bucky's arms, seeking refuge and warmth in his embrace.
And as the weight of the day finally took its toll, we drifted into sleep, the presence of family providing a sense of security and peace in the midst of turmoil.
__________________________
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