The ghosts we hide (Winter Soldier x OC)

Thirty four

No one says a word for a few moments, a long silence capturing the room.

I count my constrained breaths:

One.

Two.

Three.

"Well, That was..."

I'm up before Clint can finish the sentence.

I pull my palm from in between Bucky's, steeling myself against the sudden feeling of loneliness at his lack of touch. I keep my eyes low, avoiding his. A shard of guilt stabs my heart as I turn and walk quickly for the door, having noticed the blood on his real hand from where my claws broke his skin.

"Nyx, we..." Steve's voice sounds, concern evident in his tone.

"I just need some air." I cut him off, ignoring the numerous eyes on my back. I grip the handle of the door without looking round and pull it, feeling only slightly better once the room is closed securely behind me.

Pausing, I squeeze my eyes tightly closed as a million emotions battle for dominance. I take a few deep breaths, face tilted to the ceiling.

And suddenly, a very familiar feeling grips the back of my throat.

I rush down the corridor, barrelling into my room as the sudden urge to vomit takes hold. Flinging open the bathroom door, I barely make it to the toilet in time. I retch violently and repeatedly, stinging tears falling down my cheeks as my soggy cornflakes make a reappearance.

My stomach continues to convulse even after there is nothing left to come up. I struggle to breathe in between gags, the retched tase of bile burning on my tongue.

Once I'm sure I'm finished, I collapse back against the wall, coughing up the lingering gunge clinging to my throat. Sobs rack my trembling body, making it even harder to get a decent supply of oxygen.

For a while, the world blurs from existence. A deep void of numbness opens in my heart, making a stark difference to the overcrowded frenzy of emotions from earlier.

I'm not sure which is worse.

Eventually, my breathing steadies, leaving me staring up at the ceiling as that horrible barrage of thoughts starts to return. My body longs for both the oblivion of unconsciousness and the peace of movement, wedging itself between indecision as it struggles to work out which it wants more.

As tired as my brain and body are, a stifling fear stirs in the back of my mind at what horrors might be waiting for me the moment I close my eyes. As it's proven time and again, even my deepest, darkest memories aren't off limits.

So instead, I settle for exercise .

*****

The hallways are deserted as I walk them.

I could still hear voices coming from the meeting room when I finally left my room, everyone presumably discussing the new information.

It's a relief to not have to talk to anyone. I don't want to have to deal with the pity or the questions or anything that will cause my already overcrowded mind to breed more thoughts. I just want to run and forget everything for a while.