part two to 'you don't mean that'
warnings: talks of eating disorders and purging, self harm
-
WANDA's POV
Weeks go by of Y/N not saying a word to me. She doesn't even look in my direction anymore when we cross paths.
She's mostly in her bedroom these days, so that hasn't changed. But Steve, Clint, and Natasha have also become a part of her support system. Clint and Nat found out on their own, and Y/N just accepted their help.
I have to admit that I'm missing that darling girl so much. I feel as though I've completely failed her these past few weeks.
The worst part of all of this is that I don't have a clue what's going on in her head. I don't know if she's being safe or if she's planning anything dangerous, and Nat told me she isn't really opening up to any of them.
I need to know she's okay.
So, I've decided today is the day. I'm going to walk into her room whether she likes it or not and demand she talk to me.
Except, now that I'm standing at her bedroom door, I've become hesitant.
Come on, Wanda. You can do this.
Taking a deep breath, I grab onto the door handle and push the door open with force.
You know when you care about someone so much and so deeply, that the moment you find out something terrible is happening to them, your heart feels like it's stopped entirely?
Well that's how I feel right now.
Perhaps I was expecting her to be laying on her bed, watching something on her iPad or maybe just asleep. That's what I would like her to be doing, anyway. But instead, she's sat on her bed, in her underwear and bra, carving away at her left thigh.
That's not even the most upsetting thing. I can also see how thin she's gotten. That's not the body of someone who's been tube fed for two weeks. That's the body of someone who's been removing their tube after each feed and purging.
"Y/N..." I merely whisper. She isn't even shocked, she doesn't care. She just slowly turns her head to look at me sadly.
Oh how dark her eyes have gotten. They're painful to look into.
Figuring that now isn't the time to talk, I silently walk over to her bed and take the blade she's using out of her hand. She lets it go easily, I don't think she wants to be doing this despite how much she thinks she needs to.
I quickly go into her bathroom and flush it down the toilet without another glance. I just want it gone.
But unexpectedly, when I come out of the bathroom, I see another one in her hand and watch as she starts digging into her skin again.
"My god, Y/N. How many of these do you have?" I ask rhetorically, taking this other one away from her too and doing the same as I did the previous time.
Thankfully, she doesn't seem to have any others.
"That was mine," she says calmly. Too calm.
"You shouldn't even be in possession of these things, kid. Where did you even- you know what, doesn't matter. Are you okay?"
She goes quiet again. Oh yeah, I'm just about her least favorite person on the planet right now.
"Fine. Don't talk," I huff frustratedly and walk straight back into the bathroom to grab a towel before bringing it out with me and placing it against her thigh. She winces at the pressure I'm applying, but lets me keep it there nonetheless.
The longer we stay in silence, the more tension is created.
I don't think I reacted very well. Clearly I'm not in the most chipper mood, either. But I know that me getting upset isn't going to help Y/N.
My poor girl is holding back tears right now, not to mention the way her breathing is picking up by the minute.
"Hey," I start softly, being the kindest I can, "You're okay, pretty girl. If you need to fall apart, I will hold a safe space for you to do so."
She stutters over her own words for a little while, probably feeling overwhelmed with the sudden influx of reassurance. I imagine she's been craving some kind of motherly comfort for a while. Nat's been with her, but Y/N views her more as an aunt.
"I'm here, Y/N. I'm really here. You can cry or talk, but let's try and keep that panic to a minimum, okay?" I say and watch as her bottom lip starts to tremble.
I lift the towel off her thigh ever so slightly to get a closer look at the cuts, and they've stopped bleeding for the most part so I take that as my cue to leave the towel resting on her leg so I can get into position to hold my girl.
How it should be, I'm sat behind her and against the wall that her bed is pressed up against and she's leaning back onto me. I can tell she feels better with my arms wrapped around her front and her head leaning against my chest.
It still doesn't stop her from absolutely sobbing her heart out, though.
The thing with Y/N, is that sometimes she cries so hard and works herself up so much that she makes herself sick, and that's not even intentional.
Like now for instance, she's coming up for a panic attack and I know I need to calm her down.
I have absolutely no problem with her crying, she can get all the snot and tears on me all she likes, but I won't let her fall so far that her health - mental or physical - gets put in danger.
"Shhh, I'm here, try to relax, sweets. I've got you," I try my best to comfort, she then turns around so that she's sideways in between my legs and has her ear pressed against my chest. I end up taking my top off so the skin-to-skin will help her.
"I didn't mean it when I told you I hate you, I promise, Wands," she starts blabbering, "I didn't mean it, I love you so much."
"Shhh, I know. I know you didn't mean it, baby. I love you," I say back and hold her even tighter in my arms. She's still breathing heavily and it makes me want to cry, too. But instead, I stick to kissing her head or cheek every now and then, as well as rocking us side to side slowly.
I'm glad that this panic attack doesn't seem to be lasting as long, and wears off within ten minutes or so. We've dealt with worse.
"There we go. You're alright, you're completely safe," I coo, she lets out a deep exhale before staring right ahead of her, completely void of emotion. She's probably just trying to process. "I'm gonna clean your thigh up, okay, sweetheart?"
She nods and eases off my lap slightly so that I can stand up and walk into the bathroom for the third time this morning.
-
After having patched up the teen, I suggested we have a cuddle for a little while before talking.
So here we are, in her bed again but this time laying down side by side, my arms wrapped around her as her head is resting in the crook of my neck.
I love our close moments like this. People forget that intimacy isn't only for couples, and it isn't always sex.
Our intimacy is cuddles and whatnot, our relationship as mother and daughter needs intimacy. We need closeness. It's how we keep our bond and connection strong.
But now that it's been an hour, we do need to have a discussion.
"Babylove," I speak gently, "Honey, it's time to talk."
"No, mama," she mumbles, my heart skips a beat. She's obviously too tired to realize what she just said. Surely she didn't mean that... right? "Is it okay to call you that?" she asks me sweetly. How could I say no to my precious girl?
"Of course it is, Y/N/N. Call me anything you want, I'm here to be your protector, friend, comfort. Whatever you need. And, my love, I know you haven't been keeping your food down. But that's okay, because I'm with you now and I'm gonna work this out for you. All I need is a little cooperation on your part. Do you think you can do that for me?"
Feeling her nod against me, I let out a breath of relief as I bring her as close as possible to me.
She'll be okay, as long as she has me. And she always will.
-
i liked doing this one💛