Work Text:
When Izuku wakes up it is dark and a small blanket is thrown over him. His feet feel cold as they peek out from the fabric, he pulls into himself to make more space for his feet as he draws them in. He stares at the wall in front of him in a numb frustration, all his thoughts are scattered, and he can't just stick with one like usual.
His mind feels empty and hollow, and letting his mind skip over everything, and forget the real picture makes him feel some sort of safety.
Safety that seems to go farther than just under the covers, and Izuku finds it easy to draw lines with his fingers over the popcorn wall. Outlining the bumps and ridges in each corner, draw stars and figure eights were empty space used to be. Time passes he doesn’t know how much or how little but time still passes as the clock slowly ticks by. His room gets bright and at one point he stops tracing shapes into the wall and turns to meet a window.
Behind the glass he is met with red bricks and cobwebs that stick in the corner of windows and door frames. It’s nothing much but it’s something, so he stared out the window listing names of objects that he sees, it’s like his own little game of ‘I spy’ he thinks, but in reality it’s just another thing to keep the bad thoughts away. And just like drawing shapes into the wall, he does the game effortlessly, and no unwanted thoughts creep through as his list of objects grows.
The sickening feeling doesn’t go away, and after a while his eyes start to burn underneath the weight of sleepless hours. And it only takes a few minutes before his vision goes hazy and his mind is filled with thousands of unwanted thoughts and billions of memories that he would rather forget. And things only go downhill as memory reappears, making itself known as it shapes itself into a dream.
A dream can be described as images one sees in their sleep or something one desires. In this case it’s both, because he desires death and the memory hangs his way out of life on a golden platter.
And Izuku wants it so much he thinks he might be obsessed as he watches his life’s worst, yet best memory play out in front of him.
The memory unrolls itself out like film and the next thing he knows it’s playing and there is nothing he can do to stop it.
……….
"Oh Midoryia, didn't you want to go to UA, too!" Said his teacher from the front of the room. Izuku let his head fall on his desk as the class rang out in laughter, tears pricked in his eyes.
His eyes burned as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, his head felt heavy as he shuffled to get his stuff in his bag, but then there was a loud popping sound closing him in.
The kids all sneered at him as they passed his desk, he curled into him, trying and failing to make himself invisible
Rough hands grabbed at his notebook, Izuku tense up as the figure twirled the book around in their fingers. Venom filled word hit him like a brick, but his eyes were on the notebook that was flying out the window. Laughs echoed through his thoughts as his body froze up.
“If you really want a quirk so bad, there is perhaps another way. How about you pray for a quirk in your next life and take a swan dive off the roof." The group laughed as they exited the classroom.
The tears that were pooling in his eyes were now falling down, colliding with the floor. His vision flash red as he stumbled to the floor, uneven breath barely escaping his throat.
The memory fills him up with hope that there’s a way out, he feels so happy about the concept of killing himself it makes him feel sick.
After the group of kids leaves Izuku finds that he doesn’t have the energy to go searching for his notebook. He could find it tomorrow, he told himself, even though he knew he never would.
Izuku’s feet burn as they hit the ground, his thoughts are messy and he’s barely paying attention to the floor under him, but a loud bang changes that. He turns his face only to be met with green sludge.
The slime figure stands tall over him and he cowards as the figure steps closer. This shouldn’t be how it ends, he had a plan, Izuku could picture the note he was going to lay on his bed, he feels so numb it’s almost like he’s already dead. His limbs go weak as the sludge swarms around him, Izuku doesn’t try to fight for breath or yell for help, he just lets the overwhelming darkness take him. He hears voices, they surround him, but Izuku is in too much pain to actually understand the words being sprouted out at him.
Izuku can’t breathe, sludge pushes against the back of his throat, slimy vile chokes him as he struggles to breathe. Heat pools in his chest as he continues to latch onto air, it burns as he bangs and scratches at juniper green slim. A sickening feeling over takes him as his vision fades in and out, black and purple spots dance all around him but it ends with a blinding flash of white, and then everything goes dark.
Something stings in the back of his mind, and Izuku can feel the pain growing underneath his skin. It’s like an itch, he just wants to scratch and tear at it until it bleeds but sticks to the skin like a dead fly to the ground. He hears a noise, yelling is all he guesses, yet he has no guess on his location because his eyes won’t seem to open.
Smoke somehow finds its way to his nostrils, just as flames find its way to his skin, Izuku tries to move away but a sudden blast hits him and the next thing he knows, he is back on the ground. Arms wrapped around his tiny body as someone lifts him up, he squirms at the unwanted touch, his mind flashes back to the slime forced through his throat. He cries and thrashes as another person begins to grab at him, he screams as someone pushes their hand over his mouth.
Izuku thinks he’s going to suffocate as another hand pens him down, he thrash and pulls away from the touch, and when he finally gets his eye open he screams as he sees two pale pairs of hands come towards him.
Wet tears are dripping down his cheeks as push his arms over his head, he is going to die. The villain is here and he is going to kill him, Izuku doesn’t want to die like this he thinks. He shuts his eyes tight and when an unexpected hand lands on his back Izuku screams like a bird that has just been ripped of its wings, he is drowning under the contact, noises and voices ring throughout his brain but he can think. He only feels the numbness in his bones and the horrifying dread that rushes through his veins.
Hot blood is rising to his head as Izuku curls into his knees. Death seems to cling to his throat as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying and failing to push all his feelings away, because anything would be better than this. And when something warm is laid over his shoulders he can only shutter as soft fabric wraps around his thin body.
Izuku’s face is damp from tears and his hair is wet from slime. The voices around him are softer than before but all the words jumble in his head when Izuku focuses on them. When he’s finally calmed down, he finds that he feels dead and numb on the inside, and his skin is littered with scrapes and burns that distract him and Izuku finds himself letting all the voices fall away as he lets his exhaustion overtake him.
……….
And when Izuku woke up his eyesight was blurry and his ears were ringing. The gory images slowly disappeared as he awoke from the horrid memory. Izuku shuffled around in the bed, trying to get up. His feet twisted up in the comforter and when he tried to sit up he slid off the bed and toppled to the floor.
Soft blankets now everywhere and him now successfully on the hard wooden floor with a burn in his side. Izuku tossed his head back and let his hair fall off his face as he breathed out an irrigated sigh.
The images were worse then the last, because this time it's not like normal. Normally, it's just his anxiety telling him that if anyone finds out he was quirkless, they'll abandon him. But right now he feels like jumping and leaving the world behind. These types of nightmares aren’t as rare, but even so he still thinks about standing near the ledge of his balcony, and then... Splat.
There is crimson blood everywhere...
He doesn't think he has the stomach to fall back asleep, Waves of nausea washes over him, a sour vile of vomit creeps up his throat but izuku swallows it down along with the giddiness that bubbles in his throat.
It was like a wild fire was set off in his brain as he let himself crumble into the blankets.Tears trickled down his face as the recurring feeling of uneasiness settled in inconsistent breath. He could feel a panic attack coming on as he teared at his eyes. Izuku began to hyperventilate, his templates throbbed, he could not do this again.
He just couldn't.
Izuku shuffled around for his phone quickly as the hazy panic swept over him. His fingers crash and claw at the blankets as he searches for the cool metal. After what seemed like minutes his arm hit something hard, he frantically dug through the blanket to reach the device.
Once he found the phone he fumbled in his pass code and clicked on the call button. The device ringed in his hand and Izuku nervously waited for a voice to answer on the other side of the line, barely holding back a panic attack.
When a voice finally came through Izuku was already having trouble breathing and officially dissociated, but he knew that the other person on the line knew what to do.
So when the world around him was fading into the darkness. Images and memories of blood flashed through his mind like a rocket, they faded away just as fast as they had come but the dust left behind scared forever in the back of his mind. His own screams echoing through like there's a dome over his head, repeating itself almost like a chant. Izuku knew that he would have to wait a long for Kaminari to be here.
Hot tears flow down Izuku’s face, as he curls up and lets the familiar void wrap around him. He can't do this again. And so instead of facing the truth of it all, he just blocks his ears and cries silently into the air. His mind felt groggy as memories blurred in bunches of red and gray. Tears pooled in his dull eyes as he drowned in his own pain, and then he started scratching blood rising up and falling down his wrist. Izuku screams but no noise comes out, short breaths for air barely make it past his lips as he struggles to swallow back a painful gulp of vomit.
He can end this he thinks, laughter bubbles up and out of his throat and quick gasps.
And so he untangles himself from the mess of blankets and hits the hardwood floor. He laughs as his nails dig deeper into his skin. Red overtakes the pale flash and the pain feels so overwhelmed it drowns out the numb emotions in the back of his brain. Izuku feels high as he bangs his head into the floor, he can imagine himself floating away and it makes him feel overjoyed.
And then all at once it ends and it feels like he just crash landed into the ocean, only to hear that the rocket didn’t fly and he wasn’t going to make it to the moon. Izuku thinks he’s going to vomit as the horror rushes over him, because he just heard a click.
Fuck.
Because Kaminari shouldn’t even be here yet, his house is a whole half hour away.
The next thing he knew his arm was being pulled apart and restrained by a man with long black hair. Izuku hiccups and chokes on a sob as a rough hand grabs onto his wrist, examining the damage he had done to himself.
Izuku could hear the man gasp as he saw the pink scars that engulfed his arms. Izuku shuddered and turned away from the aggressive man with slight guilt. He felt like a burden as the man pulled him into embrace, warm arms cradled his body and a hand brushed back his hair, wiping the leftover tears that streamed down his face.
He sat there for what seemed like hours, his body ached under the force and he felt numb as the warmth of the man’s arms slowly fell back to his sides, but his two hands didn’t leave Izuku’s wrists.
“Izuku, do want to talk about…” The familiar, gruff voice paused as he eyed his wrist. And that’s when Izuku let out a gasp of air, because he knew that voice. That voice belonged to one of his neighbors, the one Izuku strictly remembered was wearing cat pajamas when he last saw him.
But Izuku is not one to judge, after all the day after he met Kaminari he was wearing similar ones too. And Kaminari just so happens to be the only friend he’s ever kept this long.
Aizawa’s voice broke through his rambling thoughts. “You know what, let's get those wounds cleaned up. We’ll talk after.” His voice made Izuku gulp nervously, but Aizawa’s tone left no room to argue so Izuku just let the man wipe the blood off his scrawny arms, hoping that this man wasn’t as smart as Izuku thought him to be.
Unfortunately, Izuku’s original thoughts on the older man were not wrong.