Bellyache--Steve Rogers x Y/N

Chapter 1 - bellyache

Your converse heels clicked on the marble floor of the Avengers compound, as you rushed to the bathroom.

The blood on your hands and the images of people screaming echoed in your head, almost making you faint.

You burst into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door, and hurled into the bathroom toilet.

"Let it out," You thought. "Let it out, you feel better after."

"Y/n?"

You screamed, whipping your head around, vomit on your cheek.

"Jesus Christ, Tony!" You yelled. You flushed the toilet, and went to the sink. You splashed your face with water, rubbing the blood off your hands, than turned to look at him.

He was leaning against the doorframe, crossed-arms, and concern in his eyes.

"You okay, kid?" He asked. "You raced out of the Quinjet as soon as you got home."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," You said. "Food poisoning."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Food poisoning?" He said. "After every mission, you just, disappear." He snapped his fingers.

"Tony, I'm fine," You said. "Seriously. I'm fine!"

You put on a fake smile, and he slowly shifted out of the doorframe.

"Well, I'll tell Natasha to bring you food--"

"No!" You said. "No, I'll go down and get it, in a bit."

"Y/n," He said. "We know what you're doing. And I think we need to talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about," You snapped. You walked out of the bathroom, and to your room.

You opened the door, shutting it behind you. You sunk down to the ground, and you closed your eyes, sighing a shaky breath. After a few minutes, you got up, and threw off your suit.

You pulled on a blue skater sweater, that was way to oversized now, and white, light leggings. You pulled off your converse heels and switched them with regular converse.

You laced them up all the way, than braided your hair. You put on some hoop earrings, than stood in front of your body mirror.

The hoodie was too oversized, the leggings rested on the top of your foot and dragged down to your heel.

The hoodie went past your hands, and dripped down on your shoulder.

You touched your cheekbones with the slightest touch of your fingertips, sighing another shaky breath.

You turned to the door, and hesitated, before opening it.

The halls were empty, with small mumbling coming from the Science Bros Lab.

You quietly walked past, stopping when you heard, "eating disorder."

"We need to help her," The voice of Tony said.

"What can we do, Tony?" The voice of Bruce Banner said. "She's been like this for weeks. I don't think we can do anything."

"She needs help," Tony said. "But we can't give her to an Eating Disorder camp."

"Are we sure it's an eating disorder?" Bruce said. "She doesn't disappear after meals. She disappears after missions. I think that's what's wrong."

"And it's not Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome," Tony said.

"Than let's get her therapy," Bruce suggested. "I think that's all we can do for now."

"But she'll need someone she can trust on the team, Bruce," Tony said. "Not some stranger."