Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
A puff of air.
More beeping.
The murmurings of sound were constant, but soothing in a way it shouldn't have been. He knew these noises but he couldn't place them.
It didn't matter. This place was pleasantly warm and as he shifted, he could feel the rough texture of clothes against his skin.
'Odd…,' he thought, swallowing against the dryness in his throat. His hand twitched in an attempt to explore his surroundings as consciousness slowly returned to him. But something was missing. There was no pain and without it he couldn't anchor himself. He felt floaty, an unmoored ship drifting listlessly.
His nose twitched at the sudden scent of rich, burnt sugar and smoke that rode the next wave of oxygen into his lungs. His olfactory senses latched to the scent like a lifeline.
Beside him the beeping quickened, turning erratic.
"Ka-Kacchan?"
The name left his mouth before he could think better of it. He knew that smell. His entire life had revolved around that scent. But it couldn't be real. This was a dream. That was the only logical explanation. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes.
The name had been little more than a hoarse whisper, but whoever was around heard him.
Something clattered to the floor followed immediately by quick, heavy footsteps coming at him. Every instinct told him to run, to get away, but all his body would do was brace for impact. He whimpered, preparing for a strike.
It didn't come.
"Deku…"
Izuku winced, eyes fluttering open to escape the memories that flooded his mind at the sound of Kacchan's voice. It was enough to leave him shaking. "No…," he whimpered, refusing to look at the figure beside him. "Please, I-" he began, then his eyes registered his surroundings. It was too bright, making him squint. This wasn't his prison. This was a hospital room. They'd threatened him with the league's doctor before. The things they'd promised to do set alarm bells ringing inside his skull.
In an instant he was moving, adrenaline pushing his body past his limit. Frantically Izuku threw the blanket off himself, ignoring the figure's angry protests, to stare at the hospital gown, the IV, the odd color of the fluids being filtered into his body.
Panic stole the breath from his lungs. The beeping was going wild. Then his fingers were tearing at the IV, trying to remove it from the back of his hand. The figure tried to stop him and Izuku had to admit TogaKacchan was being very convincing but he wouldn't fall for it. Not this time.
Strong arms pinned his hands to his sides. "OI! Oi! Deku look at me! Damnit! Its-"
"-NO! Don't tuh-touch me!" Izuku shrieked. The machines were wailing now, the flashing lights flickering in the corner of his vision.
"Deku! Oof! Fuck-,"TogaKacchan cursed as Izuku's flailing legs caught her side. "Dek- Izuku! Stop! You're safe!"
"NO! Nonono… You're lying!" Izuku was panting and gasping around his words. "'m not falling for it again T-Toga!"
TogaKacchan's grip faltered for a moment, just long enough for Izuku to rip free and scramble over the railing of the hospital bed. His tumble to the floor finally ripped the IV free of his skin but he took several other wires and monitors with him. Izuku dragged himself toward the wall as quickly as he could, but his legs wouldn't listen to him.
TogaKacchan was pale, staring at him with wide, crimson eyes. "I'm not- Izuku I'm not Toga…I'm Katsuki."
"LIAR!" Izuku screamed, pressing himself into the wall, fingers clawing into his hair. Blood ran down his arm, flowing freely from the place the IV had been. "Kacchan's dead," he sobbed.
TogaKacchan balked at Izuku's words, as if the very idea was beyond comprehension. Then she was moving toward him again, rounding the hospital bed, hand outstretched to grab him, but the look on her face didn't fit. It looked legitimately hurt, confused, and maybe a little concerned.
Izuku whined, tears slipping from his eyes as Toga took his face into her hands.
"Please…," he begged no louder than a whisper. He could taste his tears on his lips as she watched him through Kacchan's eyes. "I- I can be good. I promise. Just please…Don't do this."
"Izu-" Toga began but was cut off by the door flying open sending Izuku recoiling again and in mere seconds hands were on him, swarming him like vultures. Their voices, he couldn't hear what they were saying, the roar in his ears was too loud. He couldn't see their faces. He couldn't breathe! And he screamed.
"Out!" A voice cut through the din of chaos like a knife and everyone froze.
"Eraser, we need-"
"I said out. Now."
As one, the figures in the room left, grumbling about the audacity of some heroes and tests that needed to be run.
"You too," Aizawa drawled, annoyed.
To Izuku's surprise Toga listened and with a small 'tch' she left.
For a long minute everything, save the machines, was quiet. Nothing moved. Izuku could barely breathe. Aizawa was here? It didn't make any sense and his brain was too foggy to be of any use to him.
"Problem Child, I'm going to come sit beside you, is that ok?"
Izuku hesitated, not looking away from the shoe-scuffed linoleum floor.
"You can say no. I'll stay over here if that's what you want."
He blinked, confused. He could say no? After another moment he nodded and finally met the hero's eyes.
"If it's too much, let me know," Aizawa said as he crossed the room, footsteps almost silent against the floor. With a small huff, the man lowered himself to the floor beside Izuku, crossing his legs in front of him.
Aizawa's breathing was audible and Izuku found himself following the man's rhythm on instinct. As the adrenaline left his system, exhaustion was quick to take its place. His eye's begged to close and his entire body began to ache, bone deep. It made him nauseous.
"Sensei…" Izuku asked tenuously, working his hair between his clumsy fingers.
"Yes Midoriya?"
"I'm scared."
There was a barely-there pause as Aizawa considered him. "I know," he said simply. "And that's ok."
The hero spoke slowly. There was something in his voice that robbed the tension from Izuku's shoulders. "You're safe now. You're in the hospital until you recover enough to be transferred to the UA infirmary." After each statement he'd give Izuku time to process his words.
A broken sob tore from Izuku's thoat. "But- but Kacchan?" Terror surrounded the name as if it had thorns. He clutched at the front of his hospital gown desperately, like a talisman capable of warding off evil spirits.
"Safe. Both of you are safe." The sob grew louder, the intensity of his crying making him dizzy. "You both have a rotation of heroes standing guard outside your rooms at all times. The media has not been made aware of your rescue and the staff have been sworn to silence. You can rest now, Midoriya."
Izuku's body moved on its own, curling into Aizawa's side, seeking the warmth and safety he hoped he'd find there. Aizawa's touch was feather light and hesitant, but the awkward hero returned the embrace instantly, his voice working to soothe the boy to sleep and soon enough, Midoriya went limp against him.
Shouta could feel the dampness of his student's tears on his shirt as he moved around him, pulling him expertly into his arms as he stood. He could feel Midoriya's bones jutting out at awkward angles against him. He was a skeleton, so much so that it hurt to look at him. Wires hung from his body. His cannula dangled from one ear, hissing uselessly into the air. "What am I going to do with you?" Shouta sighed and lowered the boy onto the hospital bed like he was made of glass.
Gently Shouta replaced the cannula, looping it over Midoriya's other ear.
Tiny tapping came from the other side of the door but Shouta didn't look away from the child in front of him. He knew Bakugou wouldn't let anyone in that shouldn't be.
When the door opened, Shouta sighed, expecting one of Midoriya's doctors to be checking on him. Shouta would take immense joy from punching each of them squarely in the face.
"How's our little Listener?" Hizashi spoke softly, though his voice still carried louder than Shouta liked. He didn't have the energy to mention it. The man's presence relaxed him but brought him dangerously close to an edge he wasn't ready to cross.
"He's alive Hizashi…" Shouta whispered, almost disbelieving. He could feel Mic behind him, hesitant for a moment before leaning forward to wrap his arms around Shouta's shoulders.
Hizashi planted a kiss on the top of his head and hummed softly. "You knew he would be."
"I hoped but… have you seen his file?" He took an unsteady breath. His partner hugged him tighter. "What they did to him. What they found inside him… And that's just what we can prove, Zashi."
"Sho, he's alive and he's here. Let that be enough. Just for this moment."
Shouta was shaking, face twisting as if in pain. "It's wrong… To a child? I don't un-"
"-We're not meant to understand this, Sho." Hizashi spoke softly. "Look at him," He directed.
Shouta did, his gaze dancing the lines of Midoriya's face, staring past the cigarette burns and sallow cheeks to the freckles, the smile lines. The man's expression crumpled further. He turned into Hizashi's shoulder before the tears could fall. If ever he wanted to kill someone, it was now. That realization didn't make him feel any better.
"He's home Shouta. He's home and he's in there, fighting a war no child should have to." Hizashi carded his fingers through Shouta's hair then turned the man around to face him. "Get this all out now, because when he wakes up, he'll need your strength to keep his head above water."
Hizashi glanced at the heart monitor, checking Izuku's vitals, then reached forward, settling Shouta's hand lightly on Izuku's. The boy didn't flinch.
They sat in silence for a long while, listening and watching him breathe.
Hizashi sat on the edge of Izuku's bed, worrying the corner of his blanket, rubbing the rough stitching through his fingers. "Reminds you of Oboro…doesn't it."
Shouta's breath caught. He couldn't speak, the words stuck somewhere behind a lump in his throat that wouldn't budge.
A few more minutes passed, then Aizawa cleared his throat and stood quietly. "Stay with him, will you? I need a walk."
"I'll let you know when he wakes up."
Aizawa nodded and pressed the call button behind Midoriya's bed, letting them know they were cleared to enter and assist him. He then left the room and found Bakugou sitting in a chair beside the door, leg bobbing and head in his hands. He looked anxious.
"He was scared of me," he growled, knowing Aizawa would hear him and shook his head.
"Walk with me. We both need some air."
"Like hell I'm le-"
"-I wasn't asking, Bakugou," Aizawa arched an eyebrow at the angry teen. "Come on."
Aizawa led the way down several flights of stairs, trying to give his mind time to wind down, Bakugou was just as quiet, fists dug deep into his pockets. On the bottom floor they stopped at the overpriced coffee shop. Aizawa shoved lavender tea at Bakugou then left for the courtyard.
The air was cool, like a soothing balm against his skin, but Bukugou's shoulders hunched in an effort to keep his core warm. "Bakugou, breathe." Aizawa said. The blond was trying to make himself sweat, his quirk on a hairpin trigger. "We are at a hospital with four heroes on the premises. Mic is with Midoriya."
Bakugou remained stubbornly quiet, the tension seeming to spread.
"You're going to have to give your statement soon," Aizawa prompted, hoping to get a response, and to his surprise, he did.
"Don't have one."
"What do you mean?"
Bakugou grimaced, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket, switched it on, then handed it to Aizawa.
Aizawa looked at it, then Bakugou, confused.
"The date," Bakugou grunted, gesturing to the lockscreen.
"What about it, problem child."
"Three weeks have passed since I left to save him."
"And?"
"I don't remember any of it. One minute I was fighting Handy's crew, they got me down but everything passed that?" Bakugou paused, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Nothing, its all fucking gone."
"Language," Aizawa chastised but moved on quickly. "What's the next thing you remember?"
"Was in a dark room. Smelled like shit. I still had my gear. There was yelling, I guess? I panicked. Blew out a wall. Then Deku. He was right beside me trying to get up. I saw him when I got there and…he was bad but not that bad." The blond winced at the memory, sniffed, then continued. "I couldn't think, so I just grabbed him and took off."
Bakugou scuffed a shoe on the path, kicking a pebble into the grass. Aizawa sighed, brain churning through the new information. Guilt ate at him. He hadn't made time to connect with Bakugou before now. The focal point of their return was getting Midoriya stable. But here they were, two days later and this was their first real conversation, Bakugou having passed out upon arrival. The moment he woke up and his doctors cleared him, he'd assumed one of the hospital patrols.
"Sensei, beyond a few scrapes and bruises I came back fucking fine. And yet they did that to Deku? There is no fucking way they wouldn't do the same to me. So why…" He looks at his arms as if hoping the damage would appear, or to find the memories written somewhere on his skin.
Aizawa felt a prickle of warning, but swallowed it down. Real crisis was painted across Bakugou's face.
"He was afraid of me…" his voice cracked. "What if I helped th-"
"-Bakugou. You are not a villain. You didn't do this to Midoriya. That I can promise you. As for your memories? Your condition? I'll look into it. Perhaps there's a quirk at play, but for right now, I need you to focus on being there for Midoriya."
Bakugou nodded, though hesitantly.
"Let's see if we can get the kid some food, come on."
They walked in companionable silence then Bakugou stopped him. "Hey Teach," he paused, seeming to struggle with words. "Don't leave me alone with him."
"Bakug-"
"Please. Fuck! Just- I- until we know what's going on. I don't want to hurt-"
"You won't. But okay."
The rest of the day went as well as it could have. Deku slept like the dead even before the doctors knocked him out to install a feeding tube and repair the stitches he'd torn open earlier. Katsuki spent part of the day following Aizawa on patrol and then rested in Deku's hospital room on an ugly little couch under the window.
He sat there, watching Deku's chest rise and fall, listening to the beeping, and searching the inside of his brain for his missing memories. But there really was nothing to find. Every mark on his body was one he expected to find. Nothing out of place like he'd simply been asleep for three fucking weeks.
Katsuki let his head fall back on the back of the couch and counted the tiles of the ceiling in an effort to keep the nagging feeling in his chest at bay. He'd already read the pamphlets in the door, the magazines on the waiting room table, yet he still couldn't escape the realization that Deku was terrified of him.
"I'm not a villain…" Katsuki breathed, chanting Aizawa's assurance to himself like a montra until his eyelids began to sag. "I'm not a villain…"
"I'm not a villain."
Just as a sense of comfort finally began settling over him, and the sounds of Deku's heart monitor melted into a calming lull, a sharp pain jabbed at him along his spine. He jerked with a growl, but the pain swiftly faded away, and the weight of his eyelids pulled him towards slumber once more.
He shifted in the cushions, then jumped as he felt the pain again. He turned on his side, sloppily running his hand along the couch to feel for the object. Nothing. "Piece of shit couch," he muttered. He gave it one last pat, making certain nothing was then, then ignored it with a growl.
Aizawa's words danced in his mind. "I'm not a villain," he echoed out loud. The edges of his consciousness began to drift away, and he burrowed into the comfort of the couch.
Then the comfort was gone. Cold metal. The clanking of chains. He thrashed, desperate to escape the chill of the table, then he crashed to the floor with a groan. He blinked bleary at the floor tile, and traced it with a finger. He felt a lingering sense of panic, but he had already forgotten what he had been afraid of.
Frustrated, he jumped onto the couch again, and pressed his face against the cushions, determined for some peace. He glared at Deku, shot up full of sleeping meds, and flipped him off, envious of his restful slumber.
He took a deep breath, and his muscles began to relax. He shifted, pressing his back against the back of the couch, and laid there. For a moment, he was completely calm.
It didn't last for long, however. His wrist began to itch. Lazily he scratched it.
And scratched it.
He scratched it raw. He whimpered, and twisted his wrist away from his nails, but it took labor, as they were weighed down. Cold metal. He felt his brow furrow, and he moaned out, but it didn't matter. He couldn't shake off the shackles.
He was trapped.
He latched onto the sounds of the monitors, desperate to use them as an anchor to the real world. But something was wrong. His heart was screaming. It was screaming. But his heart monitor… It was calm. Indifferent. It was as if it didn't care about Katsuki's terror. As if it couldn't deign the effort to keep up with his thundering heart, which seemed to leave a bruise on his chest. He could feel something changing. A presence was building. A void with abysmal depth settled in his core.
He felt helpless.
"I'm not a villain!"
The hairs on the nape of his neck stood erect, alarm bells rang in his head. He needed to flee. He needed to escape. But he was frozen. His body was chained. Cold metal. The couch.
The couch.
He wanted the couch, desperately.
But it was gone.
He was falling. Into darkness. Into helplessness. He was falling, and he couldn't escape it.
No!
He jolted, desperate to wake himself up, but it was too late. He was sinking, and the sounds of chains, the echoes of malicious laughter, the murmur of inky blackness. It swallowed the hospital room whole.
And in its place:
Pain.