A/N: Woohoo! We are over 50K words! This officially means we are the 10th story under the "self-harm" tag for Avengers stories, which is kinda cool. I know a lot of people who read these types of stories as recovering/struggling self-harmers who find an outlet in reading about their favorite characters having the same struggles and how they deal with them, so I'm happy to be one of the longer pics for this kind of outlet. As always, take care of yourself if you are struggling and my DMs are always open.
After this incident, Natasha doesn't cut for three days out of pure guilt at how much it hurt Clint to see her hurting herself. He didn't exactly avoid her, which she was thankful for, but he was shorter than usual and did not make any further advances toward their romantic relationship.
"It's weigh day," Bruce says when he sees her at the breakfast table. "We need to remove the NG tube and weigh you before breakfast to see if you have made any progress. Have you used the restroom this morning?"
"Yes," she replies, blushing slightly. He looks to Clint to confirm, who simply nods his head in response.
"Do you want to know? It can be triggering to individuals with eating disorders to see the weight that they have gained."
"I do not have an eating disorder, Bruce," she insisted. "I want to know. I want to weigh 105 pounds so I can be on the team. That's how much I weighed when I was here."
"Nat…" Clint sighs.
"Our goal is for you to-" Clint cuts off Bruce.
"105 is a good goal, for now, right doc?" Bruce nods firmly, meeting his eye.
"How much should I have gained?"
"Taking into account your increased metabolism and the hour workouts, combined with the calorie intake and calories form the tube, you should have gained at least 8 pounds in the last month."
"Great," she rolls her eyes lightly as she steps on the scale. "So only… three freaking months until I can be on the team."
"Two, it's been about a month already, so if you have met the target, it's only two more months."
"That's not the only thing before you can be on the team, Natasha," Steve adds, striding into the room and still drying his hair with a towel.
"What?" She exclaims angrily.
"You need to have your cuts checked more frequently, your foot was infected a few days ago."
"But I'm taking the antibiotic!"
"This is not a negotiation," he says.
"Natasha, please step on the scale." He presses a few buttons and the numbers climb, blink a few times, and then the machine beeps on a final number. 91.7 pounds.
"Do you see that, Clint?" The smile on her face is so wide that it's hard to be upset with her. "More than what I'm supposed to gain! I'm getting back to where I'm supposed to be."
"If only you felt that way about your cuts," he says quietly and her face immediately falls. Steve follows her out of the room to where she has run to Steve's room.
"That was uncalled for," Bruce chastises him. "I need to look over your burns."
"They're healed," he says, walking away quickly and descending the stairs to the training room.
"I guess we're making breakfast alone," Bruce says to Tony. "So, pancakes?"
In Steve's room, Natasha is sobbing, knees hugged to her chest, and slightly rocking. She's been in this position before, but Steve now notices how much less pronounced her bones look and how she looks slightly less like a shell of a person than she had the last time she was in his room.
"Why…" she says between cries. "W-why is it never good enough?"
"Oh, Nat," he pulls her into his lap and squeezes tightly. "It's more than enough, you are doing amazing. He will see that, he's just upset about the other day."
"I did-didn't want to do that," she cries. "Y-you made me. I co-could have fixed it."
"No, Nat. What you do does not fix the problem, it prolongs it until the next time and makes things worse."
"But it makes me stop thinking about it."
"That's because it's a bad habit and you can't think about anything else until you do it, then it removes the fact that all you're thinking about is hurting yourself. It doesn't do you any good and it's hurting Clint."
"I want to now, do I have to talk to all of you or can I just talk to you?"
"You don't need to do this, Nat."
"I do, Steve. I hurt him so much. I am a bad person, I need to punish myself for it."
"You are not a bad person because you hurt his feelings, Nat. That happens sometimes when you care about people."
"What do you do about it? You don't hurt yourself, so what do you do instead?"
"Talk it out with that person, write down my feelings, or just cry it out with someone I trust. You can ask Pepper and Sam, sometimes I just go to cry to them."
"Can I stay here for a little while?"
"We can stay here for a few more minutes, but you need breakfast. I think Bruce is talking about not putting the NG tube back in since you are doing so well, so you're going to have to eat three good meals and a few snacks."
"N-no," she stammered, crying harder with her head on his lap. "I can-can't do that. I'm not ready, I don't deserve it. I need the tube. Please, Steve, I don't want to be off the team longer and I can't do it without the tube yet."
"How about this," he starts, stroking her hair and mimicking a good breathing pattern for her to emulate. "If you agree to eat three meals and snacks once you reach 105, you can use the tube to help you get there. But you have to let us check your cuts every day, okay?"
"Okay…" she agrees hesitantly, beginning to calm down. "I don't… Can Bruce do it? I don't want Clint there."
"I'll talk to him, okay?" She nods in response. "Can we go back down? I think I smell pancakes."
"I guess," she says, sniffing loudly and wiping the tears from her eyes.
"Ready for breakfast?" Tony asks and she nods, eyes red and cheeks raw from rubbing them away. Steve pulls Bruce away for a few minutes and they return, Bruce giving her a small sad smile.
"Do you want blueberry, chocolate chip, or with peanut butter on top?"
"Um," she considers her options. "Chocolate chips and peanut butter on top? That would help me gain weight, right?"
"Yes ma'am," Bruce replies happily.
"Order up!" Tony begins flipping pancakes in front of her and she smiles softly at his shenanigans.
"We can put it back in after breakfast and I'll check your cuts then," Bruce whispers in her ear as she watches Tony's show in front of her. Clint doesn't emerge for breakfast or the re-insertion of her tube, and stays on the range shooting his feelings until well after lunch.