Work Text:
It was a call Izuku had received many times.
“Katsuki's in the hospital.”
The second part, only a handful of times.
“It's bad.”
He didn't remember how he got there. It didn't matter. He could've cut off fifteen people and run thirty red lights and it still wouldn't have mattered. The only reason he didn't use his suit was that he was already driving home from work.
Katsuki had been patrolling with Shouto, Kirishima, and Uraraka today. The four of them were working on a large drug bust for the past month, and Izuku assumed that it would be another routine stake out. At least, that's what Ochako had told him. He didn't talk to Katsuki as much anymore; it wasn't that they never talked. They patrolled together, went to the same outings with their shared friends, and sometimes Katsuki even guest lectured at U.A. for his students. But instead of two stars burning in sync, these days Katsuki and Izuku more so just… existed in one another's orbit.
He wished it didn't bother him as much as it did.
Kirishima had told Izuku to get to Katsuki's hospital room as soon as possible, so he bypassed the nurse's desk with a curt flash of his hero license and all but ran down the cold, impersonal hallway. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Ugh. He hated hospitals, and he hated being alone in hospitals. When he reached the correct room, he grabbed the doorframe and peered in. Ah, there was another thing he hated: the sight of Katsuki in a hospital bed.
Something was really wrong, however. Shouto, Ochako, and Kirishima were all squeezed into the room alongside a serious looking doctor and an unidentified woman. The air was thick with expectation, as if Izuku was the understudy in a play and had just arrived to rescue the show.
“How is he?” he asked nervously, stepping inside and clicking the door shut softly behind him.
There were no obvious injuries to Katsuki other than a pretty nasty cut above his eyebrow. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully. It was uncanny to see his face without any sort of scowl creasing his skin.
“Is it his heart? What's wrong?!”
The doctor cleared his throat, and had the situation been any different Izuku would've been embarrassed. Right now, he had no patience for the egos commonly found in the world of medicine.
“Hero Deku. Allow me to get you up to speed. During today's mission, Dynamight was incapacitated by a villain with an incredibly powerful mental quirk. The quirk, Mindscape Maze, causes the victim to experience their worst nightmares and hides them within. We've dealt with victims before, and sometimes they do wake up on their own after an extended period of time. However… sometimes they don't. And with Dynamight's heart being compromised already, it is dangerous for him to exist in this dreamscape with his heartbeat constantly fluctuating. Unless we put him in a medically induced coma, there's nothing we can do for him long term to guarantee his heart won't suddenly give out from the prolonged exposure to extreme stress.”
Izuku scanned the faces of his friends, pale and sickly, which indicated that they'd heard this speech already.
“So what do we do?!”
“This is Chiyo.”
He gestured to the woman sitting in a chair near Katsuki's bed. She was small, with glossy, ebony hair and pupils that engulfed most of her eyes, reminding him of black holes from deep space. Her skin had the oddest sheen to it, like if the light hit her just right you would suddenly be able to see right through it.
“Chiyo's quirk can link the dreams of multiple people together by attaching them to a ‘host' dream. She has used it once before to save a little boy from a similar situation by sending his mother and brother into his dream to pull him out.”
“Then send me in.”
“We'll be sending all of you in, with permission. For this particular quirk, it is incredibly dangerous to go in alone. There's a real possibility that you could get lost in Dynamight's maze as well. Our hope is that with four of you, you'll be able to keep one another grounded to reality.”
Izuku glanced frantically at Ochako, who nodded in quiet reassurance.
“The most crucial detail, and I cannot stress this enough, is this: you can not wake Dynamight up by shocking him back to reality. Don't try to remind him of current events. Do not ask him what he remembers. Do not ask him his birthday. He is totally immersed in another reality, one that is designed to agitate him. If you try to force him out of the dreamscape, it could cause serious medical complications, potentially fatal. You must take great care to gently make Dynamight aware that A: he is in a dream, and B: he needs to follow you out of it. Does everyone understand?”
“Can– can we have a minute?” Kirishima asked. The doctor nodded, leaving the room and taking Chiyo with him. Izuku ran both hands into his hair and tugged, just to feel a twinge of pain and remind himself he was alive.
“Why— How long has he been like this?” Izuku said.
“Three hours. We were waiting for you,” Shouto replied. If the hero's demeanor was normally a little flat, now he was downright stoic.
“Why did you wait for me?!”
“Bro… c'mon,” Kirshima mumbled.
Ochako sighed, crossing her arms. She tried to keep her tone gentle, but Izuku could hear the subtle irritation bleeding through.
“He's closest to you, Deku-kun. If anybody knows how to navigate his mind, it's you.”
“Kiri is his best friend…” Izuku shot back weakly. He knew what she'd said was true, and deep down he was proud of the fact he had access to a part of Katsuki's life nobody else did.
“Are we doing this?” Shouto demanded.
“Obviously!” Ochako replied. “Deku, are you in?”
“It's going to be intense in there,” Kirishima added. “Could be war memories… could be anything.”
Izuku blinked in total shock.
“Of course I'm going! I would never leave one of you like this, especially not–”
His three friends gave him a look.
“Just get the doctor back in here. We've wasted enough time already,” he finished with a huff, unsure why his face suddenly felt hot when there were more pressing things to worry about. His eyes drifted over to Katsuki, who was still asleep, but now he noticed a slight furrow in between his eyebrows.
“We need to hurry. He's getting worse.”
The four of them were sitting in chairs surrounding Katsuki's hospital bed, IVs hooked to their arms ready to sedate them. Chiyo was on standby, waiting for the command to link their dreams together. The doctor, Dr. Ikeda, glanced at his newest paperwork which contained the most current assessment of Katsuki's vitals. He'd also brought in Detective Tsukauchi for more information about the villain's quirk, which only served to make Izuku's anxiety skyrocket. The detective’s face seemed especially grim as he read his report.
“We have no idea which nightmare you'll be dropped into. This quirk doesn't necessarily put the ‘scariest’ dream in the middle of the maze. For example, if one nightmare involved the repeated death of a loved one, eventually Bakugou would figure out it wasn't real. We suspect the dream he is stuck in will be very convincing. It will be subtle, easy for him to get lost in. It is definitely still a nightmare, but it's a realistic nightmare, not one where your fingers turn into snakes or your head is cut off. Does that make sense?”
“So we'll need to move through the dreams with the most shock value to find the one he's actually hidden in?” Kirishima asked.
“Precisely. They might be especially disturbing or traumatic, but do not stop. Bakugou's consciousness will not be there; it will only be his projection in that current dream. The middle of the maze should be something that Bakugou would actually believe might happen to him. He's trapped there because he can't tell it isn't real.”
“How will we know which one is the real Kacchan?”
“When you speak to him, he should respond. If he doesn't, it's not actually him,” Tsukauchi continued.
“And like I said,” Dr. Ikeda broke in, “wake him up gently. Does everyone understand?”
The four pro heroes nodded solemnly. Izuku was reminded of the morning before the final battle of the war. The same chill of dread coursed through the room and clung to his bones like frost.
“Are all parties ready and consenting?”
More nods.
“Okay. Then we will put you all to sleep, and Chiyo will connect you to Dynamight's dreamscape.”
Izuku let his eyes flutter closed, trying to pretend he was falling asleep naturally.
“As soon as you are inside, make contact with one another,” Dr. Ikeda ordered, but now his voice sounded like he was speeding away from them, the last traces being carried over a vast canyon. Izuku's muscles relaxed involuntarily, and then, darkness.
When he came to, Izuku was surprised to find himself in a sunny field. There were trees blowing in the light wind, the smell of fresh grass, the sound of droning cicadas, and some colorful flowers here and there.
Hardly nightmare material.
He sat up and looked to his left. Ochako was seated beside him, and when he glanced to the right he saw Kirishima and Shouto.
“Everyone okay?” Ochako asked. She plucked up a blade of grass, clearly startled when it actually worked. Kirishima gave a thumbs up with typical enthusiasm.
“Yeah! I'm chilling! You guys?”
“I'm okay!” Izuku replied, getting to his feet.
Shouto nodded, his eyes wandering around the field. “Fine.”
“Any idea what memory or dream this is, Midoriya?” Kirishima said.
“Not really, but it does feel… vaguely familiar.”
He let his eyes sweep the field again, and towards the edge he saw a forest.
“I think we should head there.”
Once they'd reached the forest, Izuku knew exactly which memory this was. He was confused what about it exactly would warrant a nightmare, however.
“Follow me,” he called, stepping over some weeds and logs. The summer day was growing hot now, but the breeze provided a bit of relief. It somehow smelled the same as he remembered it. After less than a minute of walking, they began to hear voices. Children's voices. The group came to a ledge overlooking a small river which had seemed impossibly large at the time.
And there, crossing over on a precariously perched log, were Katsuki, Izuku, and two of Katsuki's friends. At five.
“So cuuuteee!” Ochako gushed, careful to keep her voice quiet. “This seems like a peaceful nightmare.”
“Maybe not,” Shouto replied. His tone was wary, and Izuku suspected he knew why. The hero most likely wasn't a stranger to nightmares involving his childhood.
“Forward march and here we go! Members of the agency Bakugou~!”
Izuku's heart clenched at the sound of baby Katsuki's voice, so young and carefree.
No sooner had the boy turned his head back, his smile a mile wide, when his foot slipped and he tumbled into the river below. It wasn't an incredibly far fall, but it was scary to a few kindergarteners.
“Kacchan!”
He cringed at the sound of his own voice, high and shrill and whiny. A tiny dot of green scampered down with surprising speed, sliding down the bank and into the river in a flash.
“Are you hurt? Can you stand?”
“I'm fine! I don't need your help, stupid Deku!”
Little Katsuki swatted little Izuku's hand away, and then things got strange. The air turned cold, the scene froze, and the sky darkened.
In a distinct departure from the actual event, Izuku began to cry. And not just little kid tears. A guttural sob ripped through him, and suddenly there was blood on his face that had seemingly materialized out of thin air.
“Why Kacchan? Why do you hate me?! Why couldn't you be nice to me?!”
Little Katsuki had morphed into Katsuki in high school, his height and build probably placing him somewhere during their first year.
“I– I don't hate you! I've never— I didn't—”
“YOU HATE ME! YOU HATE ME! YOU WANT ME DEAD!” the other boy wailed, the sound growing louder and louder until it was almost unbearable.
“What do we do?!” Ochako yelled, her hands over her ears. Izuku glanced around wildly, and just a few yards away he saw a strange looking tree which seemed to house a door in its trunk.
“There!”
They ran to the tree, which did indeed have a door carved into the wood. Without thinking, Shouto yanked the door wide open and they all darted inside, Izuku's own voice following them like a ghost’s lament into the darkness.
It was quiet. Everyone took a moment to catch their breath, the noises echoing around in the dark.
“So we've just gotta get through those, huh? Easy right?” Kirishima joked, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Yeah. Yeah… we don't need to watch, I think. I think we just need to find the door which leads to the next dream,” Ochako replied.
Shouto sighed and shook his head.
“Let's keep moving. Bakugou is probably really scared.”
Izuku knew that if Katsuki had been there to hear that comment, he would've had Shouto's head on a platter. But in the moment, the sentiment was so sweet it almost made him tear up.
“Right.”
This one Izuku could recognize by the smell alone. Summer camp.
He really, really didn't want to relive Katsuki slipping through his fingers again.
“Let's get out of here as fast as we can,” Izuku whispered, blue flames climbing into the sky in the distance. Unfortunately, that didn't work. In some sick twist, the door was always located at the center of the nightmare, usually where Katsuki was. So Izuku watched helplessly again as Mr. Compress grabbed Katsuki's neck and yanked him through the portal, but this time everything was worse. More blood, more danger. Katsuki wheezed like he couldn't breathe, and the sound was so awful Izuku nearly went insane.
His teenage self ran to rescue Katsuki, his raw screams echoing into the night when he came up empty.
Izuku clutched his head and staggered, the present and past blurring together until one couldn't be distinguished from the other. Why was he so affected by Katsuki's nightmares? Had Katsuki been dealing with these for years? Why hadn't he told anyone?
Why hadn't he told Izuku?
“Midoriya! Look at me. It's not real!”
His eyes snapped up to meet blue and brown staring back. Shouto had a hand on each of his shoulders and was shaking him lightly. Behind him, Ochako and Kirishima peered down with worry.
“R–right, sorry. It's just… hard to relive it again,” Izuku gasped, his hand trembling as he clutched his shirt. Somehow, he was sweating in the dream.
“I know, Deku. But you're not alone. We're gonna get through this!” Ochako said in an attempt to be optimistic. Izuku wished she sounded more convinced of herself. There was a subtle, dangerous hint of doubt surrounding them, pressing in on every side.
And they were only two dreams in.
Every door brought a new horror, and each one felt like a horrific intrusion on Katsuki's privacy.
The next entrance led them back to a rooftop which was all too familiar, and Izuku desperately searched for an exit while doggedly ignoring the scene playing out behind him. His friends gasped in terror alongside a middle school Katsuki, and Izuku was through the door before he heard the thud.
He didn't look back until everyone was through, and this time it was Uraraka who needed consoling. Tears were streaming down her face, and she leaned against Kirishima for support as she reoriented herself. Izuku closed his eyes and breathed slowly through his nose, his eyes hot with unshed tears. He didn't know Katsuki still thought about middle school, much less that it haunted him in his dreams.
He didn't know Katsuki still worried about his careless words, about the idea of a dejected Izuku jumping to his death.
Shouto stepped in as leader, forging farther ahead into the maze as the other members of the group clung to their sanity.
“Deku-kun—” Uraraka began, voice wobbly.
“Don't,” Izuku spat harshly. He flinched at his own tone and reigned his emotions back in. “Sorry, just… I don't want to talk about it.”
“Of course, man,” Kirishima replied.
Calling this quirk a maze was probably being too kind; this quirk crafted a madhouse. Door after door, they continued their journey, one of them occasionally calling out to a Katsuki who didn't, couldn’t, answer.
Katsuki had nightmares about being impaled, about his fear of failure, about ending All Might, about thunderstorms, about drowning, about freezing to death, about his parents dying, his classmates dying, Izuku dying (there were a disturbing amount of those). Finally, this string of dreams culminated with his death in the Coffin in the Sky, and Izuku really thought they might find him there. But when they called out to him, Katsuki just laid motionless, dead.
It took everything in Izuku not to vomit.
After this dream, however, the themes of his nightmares went in a distinctly different direction. The group stepped out of the driving rain of the previous dream into the warm, cozy air of a restaurant. Izuku almost did a double take.
This was where they had their class reunion last year.
Kirishima sucked in a breath, as if he recognized something inflammatory in the picturesque scene of their class laughing, talking, and drinking together.
“What is it?” Shouto asked. At least he and Ochako were just as lost as Izuku.
“N–nothing!” he stammered, waving a hand placatingly.
“Kirishima. Will Kacchan be here?” Izuku asked, deathly serious. The red head gulped and glanced away.
“Kirishima. Will he be here?”
“I don't know, man! This was a rough night for him, alright?”
“Why?” Shouto questioned. It was uncanny seeing him standing just feet away from himself eating with chopsticks.
“Isn't this when you didn't join his agency?” Ochako continued, angling herself towards Izuku in an almost accusing manner. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, like she knew something he didn't or was waiting for some sort of epiphany.
“I didn't— it wasn't like that! How is this nightmare-worthy?” Izuku protested, a strange flush rising to his face.
“Let's find out,” Shouto replied with a shrug, following Class 1A out onto the street as they responded to the emergency call. Sure enough, time skipped, and then Izuku and Katsuki were alone on the sidewalk surrounded by bustling strangers and golden streetlights. As in almost all of these nightmares, Dream Izuku started saying things that, in reality, Izuku never said.
“I'm sorry, Kacchan, but it's over. Why would I want to be in your agency? The person who bullied me? The person who tried to ruin my life? It's insulting!”
“I did not say that!” Izuku cried indignantly. Katsuki didn't seem to hear him, his face ghostly white.
“Not the real one,” Kirishima sighed in disappointment.
Dream Izuku laughed with cruelty, a hand coming up to cover his mouth.
“Did you— did you honestly think I'd pick you over Uraraka? Don't be ridiculous, Kacchan.”
Katsuki was staring at his feet, trembling. Izuku had never wanted to punch himself in the face as badly as this exact moment.
“Go home, Katsuki. I don't want to see you anymore.”
“Izuku, please–”
“No. We're done. You're not special, Katsuki. I don't know why you ever thought you were.”
And then Dream Izuku left, walking away flippantly like he hadn't just delivered the cruelest words in the world.
Izuku cursed under his breath and stalked away in rage, doing his best to locate the exit. The anger in his chest was somehow completely familiar and totally foreign.
“Hey, bro, it's okay. That wasn't you,” Kirishima said in an attempt to soothe him.
“But he thinks I'm like that, Kirishima! What the hell?! Why would Kacchan, why would he—”
A small sob escaped his lips, and suddenly his vision blurred. He felt two arms wrapped around him and belatedly realized it was Ochako.
“It's the quirk. It's the quirk, Deku. It makes everything worse.”
“How do you know that?!”
She pulled him into a hug, and he let his weight slump against her.
“Why do they all involve me? Why do they all center around me hurting him?”
“I don't know. Maybe that's what he's most afraid of,” she murmured helplessly.
“But does it feel real to him?! He actually thinks that— that I—”
“No, man! He doesn't think that! I promise. It's the damn quirk amping everything up,” Kirishima assured.
Shouto nodded and said, “He trusts you more than anyone.”
Izuku drew in a shaky breath and gently removed himself from Ochako's arms.
“Thanks, everyone. I'm glad I don't have to do this alone.”
“But did anyone notice that this dream was longer and not so dramatic? I think we're close,” Shouto continued. “This dream was realistic enough to even confuse us.”
Ochako hummed in thought, her head tilted ever so slightly like it always was when she was mulling something over.
“He's right. This one doesn't feel like a stereotypical nightmare until the end. It'd take much longer to figure out something was amiss here.”
“Then let's find the next door,” Kirishima finished, a bit of determination coming back into his eyes. Izuku attempted a smile and followed them numbly through a door into a bar, deliberately focusing on anything but Katsuki, who had an arm over his face as he cried quietly.
When they entered the dream, Izuku could tell something was different.
A warm, spicy smell wafted in from a nearby kitchen. The four of them were standing in an expensive looking living room, but it didn't feel austere. It felt cozy and lived in. Toys were scattered here and there, and for a moment, Izuku wondered if they'd accidentally been transported into the dreams of someone else entirely.
“What is this?” Ochako asked, her question aimed at Izuku like he would know. “Is it his childhood home?”
“No, it isn't,” Izuku replied, skimming his hand along the unfamiliar wallpaper. These things definitely didn't belong to Mitsuki and Masaru, not even in the past. The four heroes stood awkwardly; this was the first time Katsuki hadn't been visible within the first thirty seconds of the dream. Finally, the sound of giggles and little feet could be faintly heard, and in another instant, two tiny children burst into the room.
Izuku had assumed it would be him and Katsuki, but no.
These two kids had fluffy brown hair and bright, emerald eyes. The little boy's face was dotted with freckles, while the young girl seemed to have pads on her fingertips. Izuku hadn't the faintest idea who they were or why they were important to Katsuki.
“The Edgeshot toy is mine!”
“No, Mama got it for me for my birthday!”
“UNCLE KACCHAN!!”
Izuku covered his ears from the sheer noise. Was the nightmare just children who were especially loud?!
But then Katsuki came out of the kitchen, an apron tied around his waist.
“Oi, are you two fighting again?”
“Nooooo!”
“I'm right! She's wrong!”
“You brats can share!”
Beside him, Ochako snickered. Shouto seemed amused, too. Only Kirishima looked mildly perturbed. They all watched on as Katsuki settled the kids, served them dinner, and then played with them. He picked them up so they could pretend to fly and ruffled their heads and pinched their cheeks when they got too rowdy. It was unlike anything Izuku had ever seen from Katsuki, kind and warm and sweet in a way uniquely his own.
“How… how is this a nightmare?” Izuku asked, mostly to himself.
Then, both kids fell asleep on the couch, one nestled on either side of Katsuki, and Izuku started to understand a little. In a rare moment of affection, the blond hero carded his fingers through brunette hair which didn't match his at all. When he smiled, it was tinged with something bittersweet, like the children's very presence was both the bane of his existence and his reason to wake up in the morning.
“You two are somethin’ else,” Katsuki sighed. “Wish I didn't have to send ya home.”
“They aren't his kids?” Shouto asked aloud.
“Duh! They called him ‘Uncle Kacchan!’” Ochako shot back. Suddenly, Katsuki's head snapped up as if he heard something. After a few tense moments where nobody moved, he relaxed again. Ochako made a waving gesture with her hand and ushered them all into an adjacent room.
“I think he can hear us,” she hissed, keeping her voice low.
“But obviously he can't see us, because we were standing there the entire time,” Kirishima replied. “So, does that make him the real one?”
Izuku's analytic mind went to work, whirring through dozens of possibilities.
“Maybe this is why Dr. Ikeda warned us to wake him gently. The quirk makes him truly unaware he's trapped in his own mind, to the point it's filtered us out.”
Then there was the sound of a door opening, and all four of them scrambled to peek around the wall of the hallway into the living room.
“Hi, Kacchan,” a familiar voice greeted, and Izuku was once again met with a dream version of himself entering the apartment quietly. He was dressed like he'd had a long day teaching at U.A., and Ochako followed close behind in her hero suit. Katsuki stood carefully and walked over, face nonchalant like it hadn't been brimming with emotion less than a minute ago.
“Hey, Nerd. Pink Cheeks. They're asleep.”
“Oh, thank you, Bakugou. One dinner without them felt like a vacation,” Dream Ochako replied with a relieved smile. Izuku noted that she had her arm looped through Dream Izuku's.
“I've always said you were great with kids,” Dream Izuku continued, ducking his head a bit. The three of them chatted for a minute, and during that time a few things became abundantly clear.
(Dream) Izuku and Ochako were wearing wedding rings.
It seemed that Katsuki lived alone.
The kids belonged to them, not to him.
“Bakugou looks… heartbroken,” Shouto observed as the kids woke up and prepared to leave. They groaned and dragged their feet and begged to stay at Uncle Kacchan's for five more minutes, but eventually it came time to say goodbye. Each kid gave him a hug, and Dream Izuku did, too. The latter lasted a breath too long, as if it physically pained Katsuki to let go. Then the happy family was out the door, and all the pleasant noise filling the space went with them.
That left Katsuki alone. Izuku wondered if the dream (nightmare?) might restart, but it didn't. Instead, the man leaned against his doorframe, head pressed onto the wood, and muttered “dammit” beneath his breath.
Izuku stood for a moment, unsure of what he'd just witnessed, when Ochako all but dragged him back into their makeshift hideout.
“You knew about this, didn't you?” she whispered with venom., turning on Kirishima now. He looked absolutely distraught and hung his head low.
“I didn't know it was like this.”
“Like what?”
“This bad, Ochako! He doesn't talk about it much!”
Shouto's expression was drawn in open concern, a rare sight for his usually neutral face.
“This must be the dream he's trapped in. We're at the center of the maze. It feels so real to him he can't get out.”
Ochako looked back at him as if to say duh, while Izuku stood still as a statue, blinking in shock.
“I thought… he didn’t want to be around me.”
“What?!” Ochako and Kirishima said in perfect unison.
“I– I mean, most of his dreams were about me hurting him!”
“No, most of his dreams were about you rejecting him. There's a difference,” Ochako replied, a hand on her hip. “And the rest were about you dying or being injured in some way. Ninety percent of the dreams we've seen here are about you, Deku.”
“But… but I don't understand,” Izuku whispered. “His worst fear is…?”
“His worst fear is not being able to be with or without you,” Kirishima said soberly. “I think I heard him mumbling about it once when he was high on painkillers.”
Ochako rolled her eyes as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.
“He's stuck here because he can't picture a future with you, but he also doesn't know how to exist in one you're not in. So this is… his nightmare. That he'll just exist on the outskirts of your life, unable to leave. It's pretty terrifying, actually.”
Shouto's stricken expression made Izuku genuinely wonder if he was going to cry. “That's awful,” was all he said, his eyes almost vacant as they housed a far-away look in them.
“He has to know that that isn't true, though!”
“Does he?” all three of them shot back. Izuku felt like a soldier surrounded in enemy territory.
“If he really thought this wasn't possible, the quirk wouldn't be able to hold him,” Kirishima continued gently.
“You should've told him that, Deku,” Ochako said, sounding almost… bitter. Their brief relationship hadn't worked out for reasons on both ends, but Ochako had always insisted Izuku's mind was somewhere else. It seemed like she knew exactly where it was and was waiting for him to draw the same conclusion.
The last thing he expected in this scenario was his friends all looking so… disappointed in him.
“I— Kacchan and I are complicated–”
“You don't have to be!” Ochako shot back angrily. “If you two would just talk with one another, we wouldn't even be in this mess! If you give a single shit about him, Deku, then you'll go out there and talk with him. Do you care about him or not?!”
“He can't read your mind, Midoriya, and obviously he harbors a ton of guilt,” Kirishima said. “That day, at the class reunion? He broke down, man. I pieced together what I could, but…”
The final one to break the dam was, surprisingly, Shouto.
“Haven't you two been in love since high school?” he asked genuinely, his voice small like a child who had just discovered true love wasn't real.
“I don't– I didn't think it was possible. I never knew it was like this!”
Izuku covered his face with his hands in a poor attempt to hide.
“Izuku, what is your worst fear?” Ochako asked softly.
The answer came unbidden, clear as day despite the hurricane raging in his brain.
“Losing Kacchan.”
“Then go out there and get him out of this. Because if you don't, we're going to lose him. We don't know how long until he moves onto another dream that's even harder to wake up from.”
They were right. Izuku knew they were right, but he'd never allowed himself to sit with and process these feelings before, not really. Yes, he'd loved Katsuki since high school, and probably even before then. But everything with them was a constant game of push and pull and give and take. Even if he'd been brave enough to approach whatever delicate bridge their friendship had been built on, he never would've dared to cross it for fear of burning it to the ground.
But now it seemed the bridge had been lit, and if Izuku didn't take a leap of faith and join Katsuki on the other side, the whole thing would collapse and leave an uncrossable chasm between them.
“Okay, you're right. I'll do my best.”
Izuku crept out of the room slowly, unsure of how aware Katsuki might be of his presence. He found him in the kitchen doing dishes with silent determination, a slight frown etched onto his face.
“Kacchan?”
Nothing.
“Kacchan?” Izuku asked again, a bit louder this time. He thought he saw Katsuki's head lift a little. Izuku approached him with caution in hopes not to startle him, just like Dr. Ikeda had instructed.
“Kacchan.”
He touched Katsuki's shoulder, and the hero spun around, eyes wild with surprise and fear.
“The hell? Izuku? I thought you were with Ochako and the brats.”
“Oh, um… I forgot something. Sorry. Doing dishes?”
“Obviously.”
Izuku smiled kindly. For the moment, he chose to play along.
“Sorry they left such a mess for you.”
“ ‘S nothing,” Katsuki replied, but he looked away. Izuku had discovered over the years that this small cue meant he was lying.
“It's not nothing, Kacchan. Thanks for taking care of them. Thanks for taking care of me.”
Now Katsuki blinked, confused. Ah. Izuku wasn't complying with the rules of the nightmare, then.
“Y–yeah.”
“Do you… do you ever wonder if things were different?” Izuku asked tentatively.
“Whatddya mean?”
“Like… if… I don't know. Maybe we'd talked about things sooner.”
“I ain't following, Nerd,” he huffed, but his cheeks had taken on the faintest tint of blush.
“I guess I just wish I'd told you how important you are to me, Kacchan. That you're special. That you're special to me.”
Katsuki nearly dropped the plate he was holding.
“Where is this coming from? You just show up and start spilling your guts? How many drinks did you have?”
Izuku laughed.
“Probably too many. But seriously, Kacchan. I don't want you to ever doubt that. Please, just… Just know that I care, okay?”
“Don't say it like that!” he snapped, a bit of his composure finally cracking. “We both know you don't care— not like I do!”
“I do.”
“You don't! It's not the same, and you know it!”
“Kacchan. Is this really how you imagine your future?”
“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean… this. Me married to Ochako. Kids you love that aren't yours to keep.”
Suddenly, Katsuki's face grew dark.
“You're not Izuku.”
“I am, Kacchan. It's everything else that's wrong.”
“No, you're not. Izuku wouldn't say this shit! He's not sick like me!”
Izuku reached out, but Katsuki backed away violently, snarling like a cornered animal, so he let his hands fall uselessly by his sides.
“What does that mean, Kacchan?”
“You know what it means! You know! You have always known and I'm tired of you pretending you don't!”
“You're not sick, Kacchan.”
His ruby eyes flashed with a myriad of emotions, like his world was crumbling down. Izuku hadn't seen him like that since their first year at U.A.
“Go home to your wife, Izuku.”
He tried to keep the pity off his face, knowing that Katsuki would sense it like blood in the water, but he couldn't help it.
“Kacchan. I don't have a wife.”
“Do not play f****** games with me!”
“Kacchan.”
“You have a wife you love and kids you adore and you don't even need me! I don't know why I'm still here, Izuku! Why do I stay?! If I could just figure out how to quit you! Why do you keep me around?! Why do you touch my arm when I've had a long day and look at me with that look and use that stupid nickname?! It's torture! WHY CAN'T I STOP LOVING YOU?! This is like… it's like I am living my worst nightmare and you get a kick out of watching!”
Izuku's body moved on its own. He stepped forward in one swift motion and pulled Katsuki into a hug, clinging to him like it was the last time they'd ever see each other. If he didn't play his cards right, it could be.
“That's because you are, Katsuki. You are living your worst nightmare right this very second. But I'm not going to just watch. I'd never use you like this, okay? You have to believe that. Please, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I even let you think something like this might be possible. I love you, Kacchan. Please, come back to me.”
“I'm… you… what?” he stammered, voice breaking.
“It's not real. I promise it's not real. Trust me, okay? I can't lose you again.”
He tugged Katsuki closer still, afraid that if he let go his friend might go up in smoke before his very eyes.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I love you and I'm so sorry.”
He sniffed, trying and failing to contain his tears. Finally, he felt Katsuki hug him back.
“If… If this isn't real, then what is this?”
“A quirk. An awful, awful quirk. Please just follow me out, Kacchan. I can't… I'll stay here forever if I have to. I'll stay with you through your worst nightmare, because I'm not leaving without you.”
“What do I need to do?” Katsuki whispered. Izuku could feel him shaking again.
“Just follow me. Don't let go of my hand.”
He pulled away now to look Izuku in the eyes.
“I really hope you don't leave again, Izuku. I've watched you leave so many times,” he murmured sadly, a hand coming up to just barely skim the side of Izuku's cheek to check if he was real.
Izuku felt his heart crack like a physical sensation.
“I won't. I will not let go of your hand, Kacchan.”
When they reunited with their friends, Katsuki seemed genuinely surprised when each of them hugged him. Distantly, Izuku wondered how many times he'd had to watch them die in his nightmares. And so began the long, treacherous journey through the maze of Katsuki's most terrible dreams. Their friends supported them the entire trip, and no matter what they saw, Izuku didn't let go of Katsuki's hand. Not when they passed through blood-stained battlefields, or freezing water, or total darkness, or school rooftops, not even when they passed over that same log above the fateful river.
This time, Izuku made sure Katsuki didn't fall.
Izuku woke with a start, disoriented and dizzy as his eyes readjusted to the fluorescent lights of the hospital room. He was dimly aware of his peers stirring, but all of his attention zeroed in on one person. Nurses and doctors were crowded around him, taking vitals and doing their best to get Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight stable. But when their eyes met for a split second over a nurse's shoulder, Izuku didn't see a pro hero. He didn't even see Katsuki Bakugou, the man who'd been his best friend for years.
He saw Kacchan. His Kacchan.
Izuku went to lurch out of his chair, but a nurse frantically stopped him since the IV was still in his arm.
“Kacchan!”
“He's fine,” Dr. Ikeda said swiftly, but his tone had an undercurrent of relief.
“Really?” Kirishima asked. “That's great!”
The moment Dr. Ikeda figured out the pro heroes were getting rowdy, he kicked them out. Izuku wasn't allowed back into the room until a few hours later, during which he paced relentlessly. Finally, finally, they were allowed to see Katsuki, who was sitting up in bed, the only noticeable difference being a few stitches above his eyebrow.
Izuku nearly broke down on the spot.
“Hah, you losers were worried about me.”
“Kacchan!”
“Baku bro!”
“Bakugou-kun!”
“Hi, Bakugou.”
Izuku waited patiently while everyone visited, foot tapping, but he could tell that Katsuki was getting stressed the longer they stayed by the slight uptick on his heart monitor. Eventually, Ochako seemed to get the hint and suggested getting food to bring back. Kirishima and Shouto readily agreed (“Can we get soba?”), and then the two of them were alone.
The room grew quiet with the weight of things unsaid pressing in heavily.
“I'm really glad you're awake, Kacchan,” Izuku said softly, taking a seat just beside his bed. Without really thinking, he took Katsuki's left hand in his and began rubbing his thumb in a gentle circle, craving the physical contact while fueled by a desire to move. Once he dared to lift his eyes to meet his friend's, Izuku found them carefully neutral.
“Me too.”
“Kacchan, I…”
Images designed by Katsuki's fears flashed behind his eyes. He couldn't imagine how exposed Katsuki must feel right now, all of his scars laid open and raw. He swallowed, and the sound felt obnoxiously loud in the hush.
“I'm sorry.”
It was the best he could come up with.
“For?”
“For all of it, Kacchan. I shouldn't have… If I had just been less of a coward, you wouldn't have gotten stuck. Why… That future shouldn't even be a possibility. It shouldn't— You really think I'd just string you along like that?”
He was crying now. Of course.
Katsuki sighed, and then Izuku felt even more horrible, because if anyone needed comforting at the moment it was the victim, not Izuku.
“Quirk came up with the shittiest scenario possible, okay?”
“But you had to believe it to get stuck there, Kacchan. I don't want your worst nightmare to be me emotionally torturing you! And it's my fault for letting you believe that could even happen because I've been terrible at communicating which probably made you feel like I was pulling away but I wasn't I was just too scared to mess up our friendship because I can't lose you again and—”
“Izuku.”
He looked up through a film of tears, breathing hard from too many words, but they just kept coming, pouring forth with no restraint now that Izuku's heart had been cracked open to bleed out all his love.
“Kacchan, I would go to the ends of the earth to find you. I don't want you on the edges of my life. I don't want to be with anyone else, and I don't want you to keep blaming yourself for our past, and I don't want you to fall in love with kids that aren't yours to keep!”
His words sounded much more intense in the open than they had in his head. His face flushed at the admission, and it grew even worse when he could see that Katsuki was blushing, too.
“Guess you saw that, huh?” he whispered quietly, using his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “It's pathetic.”
“It's not. It's not! And I don't want to be the reason you're suffering!”
At this, Katsuki smiled ruefully. He leaned his head back against the uncomfortable hospital cushion and fixed his eyes on the ceiling.
“You've always been my weak spot, ‘Zuku.”
Izuku sniffed harshly, trying to keep his tears at bay.
“What does that mean?”
“C'mon,” he continued, making a vague gesture above his head. “Didn't ya notice a common theme throughout my nightmares?”
“Yes, but I just thought… Since when, Kacchan?”
“Since always. Since we were four and you stood up to me on the playground even though you didn't have any reason to. Everything about me has changed over the years, except for you. I already said it, Izuku. I don't know how to quit you.”
When his gaze fell back to Izuku, it was stubbornly helpless, like a great predator caught in a hunter's trap.
“I don't think I ever could.”
Izuku felt his world breaking apart as if it were a tangible thing.
“Kac— Kacchan, I meant what I said earlier. I do love you. I don't know why I haven't said it before. I should've. I should have, okay? I don't want to be the cause of your nightmares. I want to be the person you call when you wake up terrified. I want to—”
He paused, breathing hard.
“I want to be the person you wake up next to after a nightmare.”
Izuku's ears were burning, and somehow despite the very nature of this conversation he was worried Katsuki might find him weird. He closed his hands into fists and stared down at his kneecaps.
“Don't quit me, Kacchan,” he whispered, the plea wobbling on his lips. He only risked looking up because he heard a sniffle. Katsuki was crying, the tears pooling in fat droplets by his eyes before they fell like stars.
“I– Izuku.”
He rushed to comfort him, hands hovering in a frantically hesitant way as he tried to decide on a course of action. He settled for a simple hug just like the one they'd shared in the dream, one hand coming up to lovingly card through blond hair in the same manner he'd seen Katsuki use on the imaginary children. Perhaps that seemingly unimportant action revealed how desperate the other man was for gentle touch. Katsuki sighed and slumped against him, further cementing this sad theory.
“Love you,” he breathed out. He seemed exhausted, keeping his eyes closed.
“I love you too, Kacchan.”
“Don’ want this to be a dream. I'm scared to go to sleep.”
Izuku's already shattered heart might as well have been thrown mercilessly into a paper shredder of guilt.
“Shh, don't be. I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise.”
He carefully released Katsuki and leaned him back against the pillow again. Wide, trusting ruby eyes followed his every move, and in that moment Izuku had the world-stopping realization that for all Katsuki knew, he was once again putting his life in Izuku's hands.
“I promise, Kacchan. I will be right here by your bed when you wake up. Unless I am dead, I'll be here.”
He reached out tentatively to fold Katsuki's left palm between his own. It was warm and soft against the rough callouses Izuku had built up from years of fighting and writing utensils. Absent-mindedly, he wondered what it might look like with a wedding band on Katsuki's ring finger.
“Will you wake me up if I'm having another nightmare?”
“Always.”