Tenth Doctor Imagines and oneshots

Y/n is triggered (Pt 2) (TW)

I thought sleeping would make this all go away. But I already knew it wasn't going to happen. No matter how much I tossed and turned in my bed, my mind would not rest.
All I could feel was my stomach, all I could think was of how much I consumed, how long it will take me to burn off, the amount of exercise I will have to force myself to go through.

I couldn't eat breakfast tomorrow, just a salad for dinner. But I knew on some level I couldn't skip breakfast, I didn't want to go back down the hole that took me so long to crawl out of.

The more I tried to plan out how I was going to burn off calories, the quicker my heart pounded with rage, and the wetter my eyes became.
The stress was growing as I kicked around my bedsheets, irritated that I couldn't end this feeling, these thoughts.

I couldn't take this anymore.
I sat up in bed, only to cover my face with my hands as I silently screamed in anger at myself, digging my nails into my forehead while I was at it.
I sat there for a while, occasionally moving from digging into my forehead to pulling my hair.

I wanted to stop thinking, so bad. I wanted to sleep, I wanted to shut down and drift off.

The bed dipped next to me and I was met with a warm embrace from my right side.
I was too caught up to realise that he had knocked the door before entering, he usually always knocks.

"Now, what's happened here, y/n? Hm?" The Doctor asked softly, his one arm rubbing my furthest arm, and his second gently holding my other's forearm, his thumb rubbing side to side.

I was too embarrassed to say. Not only was I overwhelming myself with my thoughts of calories, but I also thought that if I did tell him, I'd upset him. I appreciated the meal earlier, and I'd hate myself more than I already did if I made him think this was his fault, or that I was ungrateful.

I couldn't speak anyway, my mouth was dry and all I was capable of at this moment was drawing in quick breaths before attempting to keep my cries silent.

Noticing the little marks on my forehead, the doctor's warm hands removed mine away from my face.

"Look, you're hurting yourself." His voice remained soft, carefully trying to approach the situation.

I turned my face away from his, desperate to not make a sound, but feeling so seen, I couldn't keep going. I just broke down.

"Shh, it's okay, I'm here."

We sat there for a while, the only light sourcing from the lampshade that the Doctor switched on that sat on the bedside table. Eventually, my breathing relaxed and my eyes grew tired. The Doctor's warm hand clutched mine which was quite comforting. As he noticed the calmness, he tried to approach the situation again.

"Do you want to talk about it? Was it a bad dream? Was it something I said? Was I bothering you earlier?"

I shook my head. Now that I've calmed a little, I wanted to talk to him about it, but I couldn't admit to it.

"Do you want to talk about it? We don't have to if you don't want to."

"I do but," I mumble. "I don't want say."

"I won't judge, y/n, you know that, right? Whatever it is you can tell me. I promise."

I shrug whilst looking down at the bedsheets.

"It's sort of something to do with earlier."

"In the restaurant?"

I nod.

"What? Did anyone say anything to you? Do something to you? Did you feel uncomfortable there? Tell me, please."

His voice sounded desperate, his hand squeezing mine with every guess.

"Well," I began, letting go of his hand to fiddle with my nails whilst trying to form together a sentence without pathetically crying again.

"It was in the restaurant. It wasn't your fault, but it has something to do with what you said."

The room fell quiet, and I could sense his gaze on the side of my face as I refused to look up.
After a short while, the silence broke.

"A million calories?"

Hearing it back made me feel pathetic. I knew he was exaggerating the number, I hope anyway, but the thought made me spiral, and he probably wasn't too far off anyway; they were big giants.

His fingers gently took hold of my chin, turning me to face him, however I did not meet his gaze regardless of where by face was pointing.

"I'm really sorry. I should have been more considerate, in fact I should have never even brought it up."

"It's not your fault" I shrug. "Regardless of what you said, my own thoughts would have gotten there eventually."

"Please know it wasn't my intention to hurt you, or trigger you by any means."

"It's not your fault I said." I turned my head back to face my fidgety hands that fell in my lap, my wording growing more firm.
"It's just something I've always dealt with, saying things like that are something I don't like to hear."

I noticed the Doctor had shuffled slightly to look at me better, since I kept turning away from him. He stayed quiet, and I felt calm enough to vent a little more.

"I've been to therapy." I start with a shrug. "A few years back, it helped a lot. I've improved since when it first began, but certain things make me uncomfortable. You know, like what you said earlier. I appreciate the meal, I really do. I like going out to try meals with you. I trust your input, but," I stop for a moment clear my throat to keep going, the Doctor listening to my every word.

"I mean don't think it's your fault, it's not just you, it's everyone just in general. It's stupidly a challenge to try new foods, but I do it, because I know it's stupid."

"It's not stupid."

I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head at his quick response. I beg to differ to his statement, I felt stupid for saying it and it sounds stupid coming out of my mouth.

"It's not stupid, no, it's perfectly understandable." He continued.

I just shrug, brushing it off.

"Well then, doing something that's a personal challenge on top of hearing someone talk about the calories doesn't go well."

I gave the doctor a glance to find he was still focused on me. He shuffled back, to the other side of the bed and motioned with his hand to sit next to him. He then guided my head to rest between his chest and the pillow, covering the both of us with the bedsheets.

"Listen, it was insensitive of me to say. I thought I was being funny, having a laugh and a joke, but in reality I was putting someone I care about in danger of their own mind. I do not want to do that again."

I listened to him continue on through the night, telling me reassuring things, but I started to relax, really relax. My mind came to a stop, and I couldn't help but fall asleep to the sound of his voice.