Chapter 1 – a little wrecked
Life isn't pretty, we all get a little wrecked sometimes
If God's listening, people think you're out of your mind
Even if you believe it
Through all the hard times, I'm on your side
The Veronicas - On Your Side
Katsuki's first reaction is an angry one. He's not very good at dealing with emotions, and anger is the one thing that he can easily express. So when Deku of all people offers him a hand, instinct is to slap it away.
Why the fuck would he need ANY kind of help, especially from someone as useless as Deku? It's insulting, and Katsuki is not the type of person to let shit like that slide.
"I'm not weak!" he wants to shout.
"Don't look down on me!" he wants to scream.
But he doesn't.
Instead, he stares at the hand extended to him, lets his eyes drift upwards to Deku's face.
For the first time in his short life, something cuts through that blinding haze of anger. Katsuki looks at Deku, really looks at him, and the concern that consumes his body is alien to him.
Because although Katsuki is the one that fell, Deku is the one that's bleeding. Katsuki's gaze is locked down on the red blood trickling out of Deku's nose, takes in the suddenly grey, pasty starkness of his face, notices the way he seems to sway where he stands, his eyes suddenly not really focusing on Katsuki anymore.
"Deku?" he whispers, his brows furrowed in confusion.
Deku blinks sluggishly, and then his eyes promptly roll to the back of his head. He's like a puppet whose strings just got cut; he drops, splashing Katsuki in the face, and he doesn't get back up.
There's a moment of stunned silence where Katsuki just sort of stares at Deku's body, barely registering the green-haired boy lying face down in the water, small bubbles rising to the surface. But then he's jumping to his feet, his heart pounding in his throat.
Katsuki is stronger than Deku, but it's still a challenge to heave him upwards, to put him on his back. Deku's clothes are soaking wet, adding just a bit of weight to him, but Katsuki has adrenaline and fear on his side. He ignores the other boys jeering from they stood on the log bridge. They think Deku fainted like a sissy girl, but they didn't see the blood, didn't really see how Deku actually looked.
Sick.
Katsuki runs as fast as his legs can carry him. He breathes in harsh pants, and his lungs and legs burn fiercely. But Deku is as limp as a rag doll on his back, only held on by Katsuki's stubborn grip. He's dead weight, and Katsuki has never been so scared in his life.
"Deku," he growls angrily, because being angry is easier than being scared, "wake up! Just wake the fuck up!"
Deku doesn't answer, doesn't even move. Fuck, what if he's actually dead?
Katsuki weaves between trees, nearly stumbles and loses his grip on Deku, but rights himself and he keeps running. He needs to find help, needs to find an adult, a hero, someone!
Bile, thick and cloying, rolls in his stomach, and then he's overcome by the overwhelming nausea that trails up to his mouth, makes him want to bend over and hurl chunks. His eyes burn, and he savagely bites his lip when he feels that tell-tale pinprick of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
He wants to be a hero, but he's no good. He can't even help Deku right now. He has no idea how to even begin; his friend (and is Deku his friend? He isn't sure anymore, and that surprisingly aches in a way he never thought it would) is hurt, there's something so very wrong with him, and he can't fix it.
How the fuck is he supposed to be a hero if he can't even save Deku?
It takes entirely too long for him to end up on the street. He looks around wildly, nearly collapses in relief when he sees a costumed hero just up ahead.
"HELP!" he screams as loud as he can.
It stops nearly everyone on the sidewalk for a moment, but the adults soon after swarm him and Deku. He wants to rage at them because the hero suddenly can't get to him and Deku, and he wants to cry which always makes him even angrier.
The hero eventually makes his way to Katsuki, pushing and shoving well-meaning idiot adults, and Katsuki couldn't be happier. The hero starts asking questions, but for some reason, Katsuki can't hear him.
In fact, the only thing Katsuki can hear is his own heartbeat, loud, pounding lub-dub in his ears.. He blinks confusedly as the world blurs around him. It looks like the hero is talking to him in slow motion, and his head pounds horribly.
And then there's black creeping around the corners of his eyes, and his knees, weak and shaky, just sort of give out.
He's vaguely aware of hands grabbing him, but then everything goes dark.
*
Katsuki wakes up confused. He's still groggy and disoriented; his head hurts and his mouth feels dry and parched.
"Katsuki!"
He turns his head slowly, confused, and focuses on his mother's face. "Hag?" he rasps. "Why are you in my room?"
His mother doesn't correct his language, doesn't smack him over the head and tell him to be respectful instead of a rude little shit. Instead, she's staring at him, her mouth pressed in a thin line, her brows furrowed, and her eyes full of something he doesn't really see often - worry. Why would she be worried about him?
She grabs his hand gently, and that almost startles Katsuki even more. His mother has never been the soft or gentle type. He takes after her in almost every way - both loud, brash, unable to contain what they think even if it means potentially getting in trouble, and, most importantly, they get angry so easily. So her entire demeanor, the way she's staring at him and holding his hand as if he's fragile, it's worrying.
"You were very brave," she says softly, quietly, "and your father and I are so proud of you."
Katsuki blinks, slowly, and then he sees his father sitting silently in a chair just next to his mother. Which is just weird as hell because he doesn't have any chairs in his room, and why would they drag some in just to talk to him?
And then he looks around, notices his surroundings, and comes to the stark realization that…he's not in his room.
No, this room is white with little cartoon characters on the walls and ceilings, and Katsuki would rather die than have to stare at this shit every time he wakes up. Then he sees curtains drawn around the bed, the rails pulled up on the sides.
He's in a hospital.
Katsuki's eyes widen and he sits straight up, and clutches his head when the world spins. "Deku!" he gasps, and he tries to scoot out of the hospital bed. His parents block him, though, with his mother grasping his shoulder and his father grabbing his thigh. "There was - let go! There's something wrong with Deku!"
"We know," his father says, his voice calm and smooth like always. His father is definitely the cool head in the family, always unflappable and adaptable. "It's okay, Katsuki."
"It's not okay," Katsuki says loudly, not quite screaming but no doubt heading in that direction. "He was bleeding! I saw blood coming out and we were in that stupid park and there was nobody around and—"
His mother envelopes him in a tight hug. Katsuki pants harshly, and his eyes burn, and he can't breathe. His mom is murmuring something, but he can't hear, his heart is beating too loud and there's a weird buzzing in his head.
"—eathe in and out, Katsuki," his mother is saying. "Just keep breathing, in and out, slowly."
For once he doesn't argue with his mother, just listens to what she's saying and let's her calm voice wash over him. It's hard, so fucking hard, to slow down his breathing when it's already mission im-fucking-possible to breathe enough air in the first place, but he finds himself subconsciously mimicking her own steady breathing, and soon enough he starts to feel better.
"You were very brave," his father repeats, and Katsuki looks over at him. His father reaches out and brushes away a tear, and that's funny because Katsuki doesn't even remember starting to cry. "It must have been scary to see Izuku like that, and I know you didn't know what to do, but you brought him to an adult, a hero, and in doing so, you've helped him."
"Like a hero," his mother agrees.
Katsuki shakes his head angrily. "'m not a hero," he says hoarsely. His breath hitches in his throat, and his vision gets blurry again. He tries to blink away the tears, but they soon fall, and then it's like he can't stop. "I couldn't do anything," he admits shamefully. "I couldn't fix Deku…"
His mother rubs soothing circles on his back, and he fists her shirt tightly in his hands and buries his face in the crook of her neck. His body shakes with the force of his sobs.
"Oh, honey," his mother sighs thickly, like she's holding back tears of her own. "You did everything you could have, and it was enough. I promise you, it was enough."
Katsuki wants to rage at her, because how could that have been enough? He didn't even really do anything! He didn't beat up any villains, didn't save Deku from a burning building. And his quirk? His flashy quirk that he had always taken as a sign that he was going to be the greatest hero ever - it was fucking useless.
He was fucking useless.
Because explosions didn't help him carry Deku. Explosions didn't help him move faster. Explosions didn't stop whatever is wrong with Deku.
What kind of hero can't even use his quirk to save someone?
His parents utter more assurances, over and over as if that will help him believe them, as if by saying the words out loud he will come to some sort of epiphany that his actions had somehow saved Deku.
He doesn't believe them, but they keep trying anyway, and Katsuki falls asleep, utterly exhausted and drained, safely cocooned in his mother's arms and under the comforting weight of his father's hand in his hair.
*
Katsuki sees Deku, briefly, before his parents take him out of the hospital. Apparently his fall had given him a concussion, whatever that meant, but the doctors said he was good to go home. He won't leave without seeing Deku, though, and thankfully his parents don't fight him on it this time. They usher him into the room Deku's in, and Auntie Inko is already there, her hands twisting worriedly in her lap, sitting vigil by Deku's bed.
Deku is still pale, but he's washed of all blood, and he looks small against the white sheets.
When Auntie Inko sees him, she pulls him into a hug, and warbles out a, "Thank you," in the midst of her cries.
Katsuki wants to push her off, because he did nothing worthy of gratitude, but he doesn't. He actually likes Auntie Inko, even though she's as big a cry baby as Deku is. She always makes sure they have enough cookies to eat, and whenever he's slept over (and, huh, now that he thinks about it, that hasn't happened in a long time) she has a special bottle of super spicy hot sauce just for him. She's not overbearing like his own mother, but that doesn't make her any less of one.
"Auntie," he says softly, awkwardly pats her on the back, "Deku is…he's stronger than he looks."
It's a concession he never thought he'd make, mostly because whenever he looks at Deku, he doesn't see strength. He sees a crybaby quirkless loser, someone totally useless. But Deku's smart, almost as smart as he is, and maybe that's its own kind of strength? Katsuki is certain that if the roles had been reversed, Deku would have known what to do.
The thought both angers and shames him.
"You're a good boy, Katsuki," Auntie Inko says, her lip trembling and tears streaming down her face, but she's smiling softly at him like he's done something incredible, and in that moment he thinks that maybe Auntie Inko is stronger than she looks, too. "And you're going to make a great hero one day."
It's a fight not to cringe, but he manages it. He doesn't want to hurt Auntie's feelings; she's more delicate than his parents, and he just knows that she'll look at him the way Deku does whenever he meanly teases Deku, like a kicked puppy that doesn't know what it's done wrong but all too willing to make sure it doesn't happen again.
Katsuki smiles shakily at her, but deep down, he feels so unworthy of the praise being heaped upon him that he feels sick. He doesn't deserve Auntie Inko's smiles — not when he's made Deku shed tears just to make the other boys laugh.
"Let's go home, Katsuki," his father says, putting a hand on Katsuki's shoulder and guiding him to the door.
"Call us as soon as you have news," his mother tells Auntie, and she smiles gratefully at them.
When they go home, Katsuki goes to his room without another word. His father makes an aborted move to grab him, but ultimately does nothing as Katsuki calmly walks up the stairs. He closes his door quietly, ignores the buzz of his parents talking that he can barely make out.
He stares in the mirror for a long time, just takes in his reflection and contemplates. He needs to get stronger. If something like this happens again, he can't afford to be so weak. He got lucky this time — he accepts this, even though it's a very bitter pill to swallow. Katsuki's gaze inevitably trails to the All Might poster pinned to his wall.
He admires All Might; he loves watching the hero fight, wants to be as undefeatable as he is. All Might always seems to know what to do regardless of the situation. And, more importantly, he's never needed help from anyone.
Katsuki ponders this; then he goes down the hall to his father's study, and turns on the computer. He's supposed to ask permission to use it, but Katsuki doesn't want to go downstairs, and he definitely doesn't want to talk to his parents again. They'll just praise him some more, and just thinking about it makes his skin crawl.
But Katsuki is four and a half, and he's seen his father do it enough times to know how to get to YouTube. He knows the video he wants to watch; it takes him a few tries to spell it, because spelling is something he hasn't mastered quite yet, but he finds it.
All Might's debut.
It's Deku's favorite video; Katsuki knows because the dork would always play it when he came over. Katsuki hasn't seen it since the last time he slept over Deku's house, since before he got his quirk, and as the video plays he's overwhelmed with bittersweet nostalgia.
"Fear not, citizens. Hope has arrived!" All Might cries, beaming as he carries what looks to be a million people. "Because I am here!"
Stop. Rewind. Play.
Stop. Rewind. Play.
Stop. Rewind. Play.
Katsuki watches it over and over until it's dark outside and his tummy grumbles. He watches it, and for the first time, it looks different to him. He still admires All Might's strength, still looks at the hero and sees someone who sends all villains running with their tails between their legs. But now, he also sees the fearless smile on his face, and it's like something clicks. He finally understands what Deku's always talked about.
"Katsuki?"
He turns, and it's his mother in the doorway. She looks at him with that same worry, and he feels something in his gut twist.
"Mom," he says softly, and she startles because he hasn't called her that in months, "that's the kind of hero I want to be." He points at the screen, at All Might as he carries helpless civilians to safety. Not just a hero that beats up the bad guys, but also the hero that protects the weak.
His mother stares at him, her eyes searching his face as if she's seeing him for the first time. She smiles at him. "You will be," she assures him. She runs her fingers through his hair, so alike her own, and he lets her. Then she clears her throat, says playfully, "But all heroes need to eat their vegetables. Dinner's ready, punk."
He follows her to the dining room, and if she has any concerns when he holds her hand the entire way, she doesn't voice them.
*
Auntie Inko practically collapses into his mother's arms as soon as she opens the door, sobbing and clutching at her shoulders. It startles Katsuki, and he's not entirely sure why. He's seen her cry plenty of times — she seems to have a never-ending amount of tears that she passed on to Deku — but this time seems different. It's only been days since the last time Auntie's come over. The doctors at the hospital have been doing test after test on Deku, trying to figure out what's wrong with him. Auntie is still wearing the same clothes, and they're stained and even ripped in places. Her normally neat hair is tangled and matted, and her eyes are red and swollen.
"Inko? What's wrong?" his mother demands.
Auntie Inko wails, and the sound makes the fine hairs on Katsuki's arms stand on end. "Cancer," she cries harshly, her green eyes clouded in anguish. "They said it's cancer!"
His father quickly ushers him to his room, but not before he sees his mother collapse. She apologizes to Inko over and over, holds her tight and rocks her gently.
It's the first time he sees his mother cry like that.
