Chapter 20
Someone gently shakes my shoulder and I burrow further into what should be my pillow but is too firm. I sit up quickly, confused as Hell, and result in falling off of whatever I was laying on. "Oww..." I groan and don't even bother opening my eyes, not feeling my glasses on my face. "Somebody want to remind me why everything hurts?"
"Because you got your ass handed to you," Clint says simply and I nod a bit. "And you just fell off of Pietro and the couch with a scrawny, bony body."
"Ah... I see... Thank you... I'm just gonna... Stay here for a bit... Cuz oww..."
"Did you break a rib?"
"No...?"
"OK. Cuz you don't seem to understand how scrawny you are currently. You are skin and bones and we can see your ribs and any other bone through your skin."
"Y'know... I'd look to see if you were exaggerating... But... I can't see shit cuz I have no clue where my glasses are right now..."
"I have them," Pietro says and I put my hand straight into the air. He chuckles before pressing my glasses into my hand and I slip them on, looking at my arm since my hoodie sleeve had slipped down it.
"Oh. Yeah. Fun. Now I get to try to gain weight again. Yay," I cheer sarcastically and drop my arm across my head.
"Lucky for you, I'm here to help. You need to eat," Stephen says simply and I look at him.
"Wow. I love your bed... Couchside manner."
"Hilarious. You still need to eat." I sit up slowly and still manage to get light-headed.
"Son of a bitch, dude... I hate this fucking body and I feel like I threw myself in front of an oncoming train..." Steve sets a plate in front of me and I look at it. "I don't eat mushrooms."
"Tough. Eat," Steve says simply and I look at him.
"Do you want me to throw up?"
"What?"
"Mushrooms make me hurl."
"You ate them all the time." I roll my eyes slightly and eat all but the mushrooms.
"Eat the mushrooms."
"Not happening." I finish everything else and put the fork down, leaning back against the couch.
"Eat. The. Mushrooms," Steve grits out and I stare at him head-on.
"Not. Gonna. Happen."
"Eat them or... No going on missions for a week."
"You're going to ground me?"
"Yes."
"Fine." I maintain eye contact with him and put a single mushroom in my mouth, chewing once before I spit it out, barely managing to keep from throwing up.
"You're being dramatic. Eat the fucking mushrooms."
"Just in case she is not," Pietro says as he grabs me and zooms to the bathroom with me. I barely make it over the toilet before I hurl into it and he holds my hair back. "She was not being dramatic," He calls and I empty my stomach into the bowl while he rubs my back. "Water?"
"Yeah..." He hands me a glass of water and I swish some around my mouth before spitting it into the toilet, flushing it down. "Ugh... That has always taken a lot out of me... But it's worse now..."
"Would you like me to carry you?"
"Please..." He scoops me into his arms and I lean into his chest, feeling drained again. "No more mushrooms?"
"No more mushrooms," He assures me at the same time as Stephen and I close my eyes, resting my head on his shoulder. "We're trying to get you to gain weight by feeding you. This is a dangerous weight for you."
"It's hard for me to gain weight... The ADHD messes with my metabolism and makes it go fucking psycho... Ugh... I'm tired again..."
"You just woke up," Steve says and I glare at him.
"I am so sorry that I got tired from having to empty all of my stomach contents in a porcelain bowl because you couldn't fucking listen about mushrooms making me throw up and thought I was being dramatic. So, so, sorry." Pietro sits with me in his lap and holds me close to him, running his thumb along my arm gently. I rest my head against his shoulder again and close my eyes.
"Rest for a little while, Rebel." He runs his fingers through my hair and gently pulls through the knots. I hum softly and relax in his arms, dozing but still staying mostly awake.
"I'll make her another one of her meals and take out the mushrooms," Bucky says and Pietro chuckles softly.
I nuzzle a little closer after about half an hour and Pietro continues to run his fingers through my hair. "You need to brush your hair more often, darling."
"I need a brush to brush my hair period. I wasn't planning to let it grow this much," I murmur and he nods a bit.
"Then I suppose we'll just need to get a brush for you."
"What's this 'we' business about?"
"You can't get rid of me that easily," He says simply with a chuckle and I hum softly in thought.
"Mmm... Guess not... Not that I'm trying to..."
"Do you two have to this nauseatingly adorable?" Tony asks and I look at him.
"We're on my floor of the Compound. You can just leave."
"We want to make sure you're OK because... Ouch."
"Gee, thanks. Appreciate it. I'll be fine."
"You've never been switched before, have you?"
"No... Fucking hurt like Hell..."
"Yeah. You can thank the idiots on the team for that. They helped me get real good at it," Bucky says with a smirk evident in his voice and I nod a bit.
"Not even surprised about that statement."
"Yeah." He puts a plate on the coffee table and Pietro grabs it so I can eat in his lap.
"I can sit on the floor to eat."
"I'm aware." I stare at him and he smiles. "Enjoy your breakfast."
"You're weird."
"No. I simply show my affection around others. Like you seem to be getting used to doing. Eat, please." I don't respond, not sure how to, and eat because it's good. And if his affection means I can still cuddle while I eat? Well... I guess I can get used to it... Especially since he keeps combing his fingers through my hair and didn't seem to want anything else from me other than to just spend time with me. Like Jay and Loki... And I fit into his arms so well that it would be a crime to not stay in them as his girl.
Shut the fuck up, I can tell you're laughing at me. Leave me be. Jackoff.
I finish eating and could vibe with the meals because they're delicious and I love them already. "Someone teach me how to cook. I want to know how to cook more than tacos and pancakes and holiday dinners."
"What do you make for the holiday dinners?"
"Annoying shit. I hate making that food. I want to make different food for holidays that I like. Like what we did for Keiko's birthday."
"Why?" Pietro asks gently and I try to think of the words to describe why I hate making it.
"Our grandparents always had the entire family over and the house was always full of people that hated me. They'd either lock me in a room or I'd get forced to help make the food. And when I make the food now it's like I'm back in that kitchen. With someone looking over my shoulder as they wait for me to fuck it up so they can break shit on me or bend fucking metal spoons to make me what they want me to be and it fucking sucks. Because I know, logically, they're dead or they think I'm dead so they can't hurt me like that anymore but... It's still there and won't go away."
"Probably a good thing I didn't get the spoon for you sassing me then, huh?" Bucky asks, trying to make light of it, and I laugh shortly.
"Yeah. Good thing you didn't. They had an entire fucking drawer of spoons that were wooden, plastic, metal, and any other shit they could find. If they got drunk or pissed enough, which was easy enough around me, they'd fucking break the damned things with how much and how hard they hit me. Fucking sucked ass."
"I bet."
"Do you have any scars from those beatings?" Stephen asks and I shake my head after a moment.
"No. The worst that happened was I'd have bruises and welts and shit. I think they might've broken my arm one time... But I don't know. All of my memories from there have been wonky since I got my life source."
"It probably caused you to repress them. I can understand why from what you've told us."
"Yeah. Now if only it could repress the memories from me under the Kree. That'd be great. Cuz then I'd be able to fucking sleep for a solid eight fucking hours."
"You seemed to sleep just fine when someone was next to you," Peter points out and I open my mouth to argue before closing it, thinking. "Why is that?"
"They didn't trust me around others so I got a private cell. That and I was the most prized possession of the Leaders and his kids. Seven years is a long time to go without any friendly interaction. Private cell meant being the only one there and only having people come in to be fed, taken to a fight, brought back after a fight, fixed up, and beaten. It was great," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm, and Pietro rubs the base of my skull gently.
"Sounds like it," He murmurs and I feel kinda bad.
"Sorry. You were with the Skrull longer."
"Yes, I was... However, I was not a prized possession of anyone important. I was hardly a prized possession. I was kept with the others so I managed to keep myself sane that way. Do not downplay your trauma just because it was for a lesser amount of time than someone else's. Trauma is trauma and it is awful." He keeps rubbing the base of my skull as he gently presses my head to his neck and I let him, closing my eyes. "Do you understand?"
"Yeah..."
"Good." He presses his lips to my head gently and I sigh softly, relaxing more. And that's how we spend the day.