Michael Clifford sickfics

Too Thin

Another doctor fic.
+TRIGGER WARNING! SELF HARM AND EATING DISORDER!!!!+
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Michael
Why am I so gross? Why do I have to have a fat gut? Why do I have to be so fucking ugly? I stood in front of the full length mirror in my room, in nothing but boxers and I wanted to cry at my reflection. I had a disgusting belly, my thighs were thick, my hips were wide, acne covered my face, I am just so ugly and fat. I put on black skinnies and a tan sweater, they felt so baggy but I don't understand how they could be. I went into the bathroom and went into the cabinet, pulling out a small box. I opened it and saw all the blades I've collected in the past year, I sat against the bathtub and turned my arm over, rolling up my sleeves and revealing dozens of scars that lined my arm. Deep ones. Shallow ones. Raised ones. Red ones. Old ones. New ones. Fading ones. "Let's make some more." I mumbled and slid the cold metal blade across my arm, watching the crimson liquid bubble up from the cut. I did this 19 more times, resulting in 10 cuts on each arm. "Mikey, you okay?" I heard Calum ask and I froze, "Uh, yeah. I'll be out in a second." I rushed out and wrapped bandages around my forearms, I found it made the bleeding stop faster and it hides the cuts easier. I stepped out of the bathroom and the smell of breakfast hit me, it smelled so good and I was gonna eat it, but it's not gonna stay down. I sat at the table with Luke and Ashton around me, I fake smiled at them and Calum put a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. I ate them rather quickly and as soon as I finished,  I got up and went to the bathroom. I locked the door and grabbed my toothbrush, leaning over the toilet and sticking the end into my throat, making me gag hard but nothing came up. I tried again and vomit barreled up my throat, spilling out of my mouth and into the ceramic basin. I puked up my breakfast and sat against the wall, I felt so fat and gross when I ate, even if it was as small as a cracker, I felt fat. I flushed the toilet and washed my face and hands before going to the living room, putting earbuds in my ears and blasting Green Day.

Calum
"Have you noticed anything strange about Michael?" Luke asked,  glancing into the living room where Michael sat on the love seat. "What do you mean?" Ashton asked, "I mean...he always wears long sleeves, all his clothes are baggy and he looks way too skinny." Luke frowned and I glanced at Michael. He did look really skinny, his shirt did cave in at his stomach, I could see his collar bones jutting out, and I could kinda see his ribs through his shirt. "I've never seen him like this." I frowned, "We should take him to the clinic, this can't be healthy and we need to figure out what the hell is happening." Luke sighed. "Should we talk to him or let him tell us? What do we do?" I asked,  "Maybe we should wait a little, see how he is later on." Ashton sighed and we all nodded.

Michael
I sat on the bathroom floor, 10 deep cuts on each arm and blood covered my arms. I took out the first aid kit and cleaned the blood off, wrapping bandages on them again and rolling my black sweater sleeves down. I stood up and realized my hands were shaking, I walked out of the bathroom and walked downstairs. I saw my brothers in the kitchen and I felt all the color drain from my face, "Michael, are you okay?" Luke asked in worry. "Yeah, I just feel a little-" I began but was cut off by everything going black and falling back onto the floor.

Luke
"Michael, are you okay?" I asked as I noticed him go whiter than a sheet, he swayed a little on his feet. "Yeah, I just feel a little-" He began but fell to the floor, I got up quickly and picked up his limp body, he was out cold. Calum and Ashton both got up and we rushed to the car, Ashton drove and I sat in the back with my leaning against me. When we got to the office, Michael was still out cold and was laying on the chair/bed thing, all of us standing in the room. I rolled up his sleeves and saw red stained bandages, "Oh please no...." I whispered and Calum and Ashton walked over to Michael and me. I slowly unwrapped the white bandages and held back tears, 10 deep and still bleeding cuts were on each of Michael's forearms as well as dozens of other scars. Ashton and I started stitching up his wounds before wrapping them in clean bandages, Michael started to stir awake and his eyes fluttered open. He quickly sat up and noticed his sleeves were up, "Michael, why?" I asked and he just broke down sobbing. "I-I-I'm so s-sorry." He sobbed and we all wrapped our arms around him, "It's okay, you're okay." I cooed and wiped tears from his cheeks. His hard sobs turned into hiccups and sniffles,  "Michael, we need you to take off your shirt." Calum stated and Michael's eyes widened, rapidly shaking his head. "C'mon Mikey please." He asked and began taking Michael's shirt off, Michael jumped off the chair and ran to the other side of the fairly large room. "NO!" He shouted and Calum and I walked over to him, picking him up by his underarms. "PUT ME DOWN!" He screamed and kicked his legs around, trying to get out of out grip. "Mikey, we have to see what has been done to your body." I cooed and he rapidly shook his head again, "No!No!No!No!" He shouted. "Michael Gordon Clifford! If you don't take off you top then we will!" Ashton snapped and Michael calmed down, staring at him with watery sad eyes, "Guys, please no." He sniffled. "Mikey, it has to be done." Ashton cooed and Michael sniffled, "O-o-okay." He hiccupped and we let go of his arms. He slowly pulled his arms from under the sleeves and slowly pulled the shirt off, revealing something I never wanted to see ever. His ribs were prominent, his tummy caved in, and his collar bones were jutting out. "I'm fat aren't I?" He sniffled and everyone's eyes widened,  "Michael, you're every bone you have is sticking out!" Ashton bellowed in shock and Michael sobbed harder, putting his sweater back on. "B-bulimia." He sobbed, "I have bulimia." He sobbed hard into his hands and we all embraced his fragile body in a gentle hug. I picked him up by his underarms and placed him on the exam bed, "Help me." He sobbed and I rubbed his scared forearm. "We will, we're gonna make you better." I smiled and kissed his cheek, running my hands through his blonde hair.

It took a year, but Michael finally got better. He hasn't cut in a year, he doesn't purge anymore, and he gained enough weight to have a healthy look, now he has a pudgy belly and little love handles, it makes all of us so happy that he is better.