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He’s lying on the beach, the wet sand scratches against his legs. The tide crashes against the rocks nearby, showering him with water. The water laps at his feet, washing away the sand. He turns slightly, his head flush against the sand, the beach spans the whole length of his vision. Nothing there but soft hills of sand and crashing waves. It’s all-encompassing, like a blanket of peace.
And he lies there, soaking up the warmth. It's a new kind of bliss he’s never experienced. He must savor it before the blanket is ripped from under him.
It's calming and it fills his chest with warmth, but something nags at his mind. How did he get to the beach? Is it his beach? Does he care?
Something squawks above him, a bright white bird flies through the air and lands on the rocks beside him. It nestles itself away from the crashing waves. The bird stares at him and croons. It will assimilate into the background, something he can ignore.
It croons again, only louder this time. He turns to stare it down, but another one joins the first on the rock. It too croons at him, its indignant squawks much louder than the first. The two birds squawk at each. If he listens closely he can almost understand them, but the sand in his ears muddles the meaning.
⸚ẅäḳë ḧïṁ?
Nø nøŧ ɏɇŧ- łɇŧ ħɨm słɇ-
The crooning grows louder with each new bird. Squawking and crooning fill the air. The noise becomes impossible to ignore, the blanket of peace disturbed.
He looks at them and scowls, the feathery white creature only cocks its head in amusement.
Sand shifts beneath him, pulling at the sides. The crashing of waves picked up, and the water lapping at his feet encompassed his legs. A weighted sensation pools on his chest, more muffled garble sound above him. Something pulls at his back and drags him deeper into the sand.
Ḋöṅ'ẗ⸚
Thick wet sand stretched out across him as he sank deep into the earth. Its heavy body crushing his chest, and the tiny grains fill his lungs- choking him. The Earth around him trembles and sways, all the while it smothers him.
If he wanted he could push his way out, or blast the sand away, but he doesn’t. He lets it take him deep into the Earth. Water soaks into the sand atop him, dripping onto his face.
He keeps sinking, the earth gives way beneath him. It’s almost nice. Becoming one with the ground, he can’t hear the birds anymore, but the waves still crash above him.
Only- only something not quite right. They’re almost like static, or stuck on rewind.
The Earth around him gives way and he’s free-falling now. A group of birds gazes down at him through the hole in the earth. They smirk down at him and croon loudly as he falls.
And he falls and falls until he’s slammed down upright. Something cold grasps at his wrists. A chill runs down his spine as the dizziness falls away.
Water trickles down from up above and hits his cheek. The room no longer smells like salt and the bliss has melted away. Instead, the air is stiff and the heavy stench of blood and alcohol makes him gag. His chest feels tight and more water slowly falls down on him. Each drop filling him with dread.
Little pinpricks attack his eyes, he almost wants to cry. The room is so stiff and heavy, he can't breathe. It's nothing like the warmth of the earth, he doesn’t want to stay here. He wants to fight.
He flings his body around trying to escape, but a waistband of metal shrinks against his stomach. With each movement, the metal squeezes harder, until his body feels like it’ll pop at any moment. More water falls down his face, it's salty on his tongue.
He never stills against the restraints. Not even when they squeeze him so hard his vision blurs with black spots. Not when the man in the corner walks closer.
Oh.
A hand caresses his face, gently brushing at his lips. More water drips from above, and the hand brushes it away. He opens his mouth to speak, but only garbled ichor falls from him. Green ooze fills his lungs and mixes with the sand. He coughs and hacks, but it glues his mouth shut, smothering him.
The chains against his waist tighten as he thrusts around, crushing him as the ichor chokes and drowns him. His vision blurs and blackens, faint squawking lulls him into darkness.
He wakes with a startle, nearly falling off whatever it is he’s slept on. On instinct, he lets a rough explosion loose. Not enough to seriously hurt anyone, or explode the blanket.
It takes him a minute to settle himself. The choking has subsided, but it left his mouth dry like sand.
A dream? Fuck. Where am I?
Someone’s talking, but his ears are ringing- muffling any sound.
“-alm down man.”
“-alright?”
“-kugou?”
His head’s spinning but the feeling of dread is gone. He looks around the room in a daze, the heavy stench of blood is gone. The man- he’s gone too, but the water still falls down his face.
Slowly he comes too and finds that he’s on the couch, which means he’s in the common room. And the people around him are-
“Fuck!” He flings himself up from his spot on the couch and scrabbles away. He throws another explosion, but it's more light than anything.
“Woah Blasty, it's okay! You’re fine!” Mina startles up from her chair, her hands out in front of her placatingly.
“It was a dream man!” Kaminari jumps back and nearly falls into Sero.
“Bakugou- just um- just take a deep breath. You’re fine. It was a nightmare, nothing more.” Kirishima tries to edge closer but stops midway.
Shit.
Fuck.
“H-how long was I out?” He hated the way his voice trembled. Kaminari and Mina locked eyes before turning back to him.
“About an hour or so.” It was Sero who spoke up, he walked towards the couch and picked up the discarded blanket.
“We were studying together, but you just kinda- kinda drifted off.” Mina smiled faintly. “We didn’t wanna wake you.”
“Tch” Bakugou ran a hand across his face. It was damp from where the water had hit him.
Water?
He gently touched his face, his cheeks were damp. Oh. He’d been crying hadn’t he.
Fuck.
The hell is wrong with me. I’m Bakugou fucking Katsuki, I don’t cry at stupid fucking nightmares.
Bakugou hastily wiped at his eyes, but they had already seen him.
“Hey man, it's- it's okay to cry. I know I would after a nightmare.” Kirishima paused before stepping closer and gently taking Bakugou’s hand. “It doesn't make you any less manly.” He smiled brightly at him, it was almost sweet.
“F-fuck off.” He tried to pry away but the others had already gathered around him, pulling him into a light hug.
“Do you guys wanna watch a movie?”
“Yeah, yeah that sounds good. Bakubro is that alright?”
“You’re not gonna leave me alone are you?” His shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh. He supposed he wouldn't mind too much if they stayed. It was, it was kinda nice.
“Nope!” He faintly smiled at the exaggerated ‘pop.’
“Fine, but if any of you speak of this I’ll ring your heads, understood?” A chorus of light-hearted agreements resounded around him. He sat down and let the relief wash over him, it was peaceful- like crashing waves from the tide. He decided that maybe having friends wasn't so bad after all.