natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡

trigger warning: discussions of depression, mental health issues, eating habits
a/n: you're not doing well and natasha worries. this is a heavier topic, but i tried to make it as fluffy/sweet as possible

What started out as you taking more naps and staying in your room for longer periods of time has turned into the entire team not seeing you for days.

You could feel another depressive episode coming, you really could. The inexplicable sadness, the fatigue, the feeling that you lack the energy to do basically anything — all of these signs have become far too familiar to you. Knowing that you can't do anything about it is the worst, probably. And, to be honest, you really don't feel like trying anymore.

So you try to stay away from the others for as much as possible. You get up in the middle of the night, when everyone's asleep, and do the things you have to do; grab a few bottles of water, maybe eat a tiny bit — not much, as you basically have no appetite anymore —, et cetera. During the day you stay in bed, staring at the wall and just...existing, at this point.

It's safe to say that the others worry, but nobody worries as much as your girlfriend does.

Natasha has experienced one of your depressive episodes before, almost two years ago. Back then you were just friends, colleagues, nothing more. She wasn't involved in your life that much back then, but she still tried to help as much as she could.

This time, she's doing the exact same.

At first, she wants to give you some space. See if you can maybe get out of this episode quicker than last time. But when almost four days go by without her seeing you at all, she starts to worry more and more.

"Y/N?", she says, gently knocking on your door, her ear close to the wood. "Can I come in?"

You lift your head off the pillow for a second. "Nat?", you say.

Natasha, hearing how weak and tired your voice is, instantly gets scared. "It's me, love."

"Okay." You close your eyes as she opens the door and steps into your room. The curtains are closed, the floor is messy, and she immediately regrets not checking on you sooner.

Natasha crouches down next to you, carefully placing one hand on your cheek. You open your eyes, looking at her. "How are you?", she asks softly. "I haven't seen you in days."

"I'm okay."

"Don't lie, Y/N."

"I'm not."

"You are. I can tell."

You shut your eyes again. "Leave me alone."

"I'm not leaving", she informs you and sits down on your bed. The redhead picks up your lion plushie and holds it in her lap for a few seconds, straightening its messy fur. Then she puts it on your stomach, gently tapping it against you a few times. She brings it up to your face, brushing its soft nose against yours.

The smile on your face may be tiny, but it means the world to Natasha.

"When was the last time you ate?", she then wants to know, making you hide your face with a pillow. Your girlfriend peels it away. "Y/N."

"Yesterday", you finally mumble. "I'm not hungry."

"I know, baby." Natasha understands that you probably don't have the biggest appetite right now. "You still need to eat", she says quietly. There's not a hint of reproach in her voice — she's genuinely just concerned about you. As much as that should mean to you...it doesn't. Her words reach your ears, but not your brain. You turn away, refusing to face the situation. "It's rude to not look at someone when they're talking."