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There are a lot of things Izuku has come to dislike about hospitals, but nights have to be the absolute worst.
Hospital nights are quiet, eerily so. He can hear the soft buzz of machinery and his own beating heart, somehow still pumping strongly in his chest, but the corridors beyond his door are dark and empty--silent.
Dorm life has made him accustomed to constant noise, to the soft murmurs of classmates in their rooms, and the padding of footsteps in the hall while he’s trying to fall asleep. Even when he still lived with his mom, he would hear her humming softly in the kitchen as she cleaned, or the gentle hum of the late night talk show she sometimes watched.
His hospital room is isolated, far away from the prying public eye, and it is the complete lack of life that quickens his pulse.
He forces himself to breathe deeply--long, slow breaths as his eyes trace the outline of the moon that hangs brilliantly outside his window. The curtains are parted enough he can make out the surrounding stars, and he begins counting them.
If he focuses hard enough he can almost hear cicadas chirping, cars honking in the distance, life that exists outside of this plain, white room.
He hopes his mom is actually sleeping. She’s been here constantly since he was admitted, and this is the first night he’s successfully convinced her to go home. He loves his mom so much, is so grateful for her, but the sight of her reddened eyes and tear stained cheeks had become too much for him to handle.
She would hug him and cry and plead and beg for him to be careful, please, I can’t do this anymore--
The guilt is eating him alive.
It’s his own fault he’s in the hospital, he knows that. All that training had been for nothing in the face of power far greater than anything one single 16 year old should have to face.
Except--
Except it hadn’t been a single 16 year old. He hadn’t been alone, he just…
He just--
His breathing is erratic and there’s nothing, no comfort, the stars can bring him now. There’s only one thing that can bring him peace of mind and he’s--
The tile is cold against his bare feet. He barely feels the sting of his IV ripping and the stabbing pain in his arms before he’s forcing himself to stand, his legs wobbling as he cuts through the darkness of his room.
His mind burns with a singular thought so hot it scorches and sears his lungs until he’s spitting fire and ash in harsh gasps.
It hurts.
He hurts.
(he’s hurt)
Everything hurts, now.
The darkness of the hall looms before him, oppressive and dangerous in it’s stillness. For a second he’s back there, except there’s no warmth beside him now, above him, supporting him--he’s alone.
God, he’s so alone.
His body shudders with each ragged breath he drags in, but he’s stubborn and determined and there’s somewhere he needs to be.
There are no nurses in the hall, no doctors or other patients, and for a moment he wonders if he’s dreaming, if any of this is even real. He remembers the vividness of the dreams (nightmares) he had before fully waking up, the way he was so sure he had failed everyone.
The first time he blearily opened his eyes and saw his mom hovering over him he didn’t say a word. He felt...detached, untethered, like he was floating away from everything and everyone he had ever loved and sworn to protect.
She had started crying, and the nurse had come in, and then a doctor was talking, but he wasn’t there, his mind was--
Then it was quiet, and his mom still hovered, and finally, finally, he opened his mouth and--
“Kacchan?”
The door is nondescript, nothing to indicate the importance of the being it houses, and he flushes with anger. It’s bitter on his tongue, burns down his throat, squeezes his lungs as his heart beats, beats, beats--there is nothing useless behind this door.
He takes a breath, and then another, hand outstretched for the handle, and then he stops. He feels heavy, like his feet are rooted to the floor and a vise squeezing his throat.
He can’t move. There’s a voice screaming in his head and something warm splashing his face as darkness gathers in the corners of his vision but he can’t--
He’s going to fall, but he can’t move, he’s right there, he’s going to fall, but he can’t move why can’t he move he’s going to fall--
“Deku.”
He chokes on a gasp, breath wet and harsh and punching out of him in painful jabs that bring him to his knees.
It hurts, it hurts so much, everything hurts.
“Breathe, Deku, you need to fucking breathe.”
Warmth envelops his hands, a gentle pressure that soothes the aching in his soul.
“Kacchan,” he sobs, and the dam is breaking, finally, finally, “Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Ka--”
The hands leave him, and for a moment he’s alone again, lost and scared and staring down something far beyond his capabilities.
“For fuck’s sake.”
There’s a muffled curse and the shifting of fabric, and then the warmth is sliding against his cheeks, his head tilting up, cradled in the palms of the strongest person he has ever known.
“Izuku. Breathe.”
He breathes.
He breathes.
He breathes.
“Kacchan.”
The hands grip his cheeks firmer, and he finally blinks open his eyes, unsure of when they closed in the first place, and he’s here.
“The hell am I gonna do with you, Deku?” Katsuki whispers, and it’s all Izuku can do but stare and stare and stare into red eyes he has known his entire life.
“You--” he pauses when another tear spills over, heart tripping over itself when a thumb gently swipes it away. “You asshole!”
That...is definitely not what he meant to say, and if Katsuki’s face is anything to go by, not what he expected, either.
“Excuse me?” Katsuki frowns, but the hands don’t leave his face, so Izuku continues.
“You! You could have died!” He cries, face scrunching with a new wave of tears. “You almost did die, you dumb, stupid, jerk!”
“You better be fucking with me right now, because I swear to--”
“What were you even thinking?” He interrupts, leaning forward so suddenly Katsuki drops his hands with a curse that makes Izuku pause.
He realizes Katsuki’s torso is bare at the same time Katsuki seems to remember, scowling as his shoulders hunch. He immediately winces at the movement, and Izuku feels like he's falling into an abyss again.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Happens,” Katsuki says plainly. His arms are trembling when he uses them to leverage himself up, pausing on his knees as he hisses a harsh breath that has Izuku’s own speeding back up.
“Let me--” Izuku scrambles up, ignoring the twinges in his arms as he reaches for Katsuki.
“Fuck off,” Katsuki grunts, still unmoving. Izuku stands still, watching helplessly as Katsuki’s body tenses with every movement, as he bites down harder on every noise that half-spills from his lips.
“Please,” Izuku whispers. Katsuki ignores him, and with a final curse he’s standing, as strong and tall as ever.
“And fuck your arms up even more? Do you ever fucking think, dumbass?” He scowls, but the effect is ruined by the sweat on his brow and clear exhaustion smeared under his eyes.
He moves past Izuku, not quite stumbling but not steady, either, and carefully lowers himself to his bed.
Izuku stares at the spot he had been seconds ago, mind filling with static. There had been more bandage on him than skin, two very distinct splotches of red beginning to form when he had moved.
He’s starting to feel untethered again, floating away into something hot, dangerous, he’s falling--
“Goddammit...Deku!”
The voice tears through Izuku, startling him back into reality. He spins around, desperately seeking red eyes.
Katsuki is watching him with an unfamiliar expression on his face, something in his eyes that Izuku can’t name.
“I can’t--” Katsuki stops, frowns, extends an arm. “Come here.”
Izuku silently steps forward, shuffling until his knees bump Katsuki’s. He’s not used to staring down at him, and he finds he doesn’t like it.
“Sit,” Katsuki demands, so he sits.
Their shoulders brush, and Izuku can feel the fine tremors that run through him.
“I should get a nurse--”
“Shut up,” Katsuki says, and he sounds so tired Izuku’s mouth snaps shut. “Arms?”
“Bad.”
Katsuki nods, like he knew all along. Which... he probably did, he had a front row seat for the entire fight, watched as Izuku failed to subdue Shigaraki time and time again, as he got increasingly more broken with every punch.
“Stop, whatever you’re thinking, just fucking stop.”
Izuku turns his head, openly stares at the boy beside him--Katsuki stares right back. Their noses brush, and Katsuki’s sigh is warm against his face.
“Shoulder?” It’s Izuku’s turn to ask. “Stomach?”
“Could be worse.”
“Almost was a lot worse,” Izuku mumbles. Katsuki’s eyes narrow, and Izuku is fascinated by the way they reflect in the moonlight, different hues of red all combining into one fiery color.
“Well it fucking wasn’t,” Katsuki says off-handly, and something switches in Izuku.
“I’m really mad at you.”
“Me?” Katsuki sneers, leaning back. “You’re fucking mad at me?”
“I’m--yes,” Izuku nods, something hot prickling under his skin. “What you did--”
“Fuck you. I’m so fucking pissed at you I--” Katsuki breaks off. “What kind of half-baked bullshit plan was that?”
The reassurance he needed originally from Katsuki’s presence has completely melted into a simmering rage, one that burns so brightly it surprises him.
“I had to try and stop him, I had to do something!”
“Because only you could do it, right? Only the chosen one could win that fight.”
“What? No! I-I just, that’s what One for All is for, taking down All for One!”
“Not by yourself it isn’t!” Katsuki’s breath is ragged. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt! You’re talking about my plan being bad like casually throwing yourself in front of spikes was any better?” Izuku pants. “What the hell did you hope to accomplish by that? What were you thinking?”
The room is still, their harsh breaths fill the air, outside the moon shines brightly. Izuku picks at the edge of a bandage on his wrist, feels the strap of his sling dig into his shoulder. The whir of machinery buzzes quietly in the background.
“The fuck did you even come here for if you’re so mad?” Katsuki finally asks, his voice just a wisp in the air, hanging heavy between them.
Izuku’s head snaps up, and god Katsuki looks so unbelievably tired. He looks small and tired and just as lost as Izuku.
They’re only 16…
The anger melts, is replaced with something raw and painful.
He came here because--
Because--
Katsuki was falling, he was falling and Izuku couldn’t do anything but watch, couldn’t see anything but the way All for One’s tendrils had pierced straight through his body, the blood that had spewed from his wounds, his mouth, the way his eyes had gone so terrifyingly blank.
His body wouldn’t move and it was like the training camp all over again, except there would be no All Might this time, there was no rescue, there was just him and his power that he hadn’t mastered, and Katsuki had pushed him out of the way.
He had saved him.
And Izuku could only watch as he plummeted to the ground.
“I--” he’s so exhausted, the heaviness is starting to weigh him down again, embers burning through his lungs. “I needed--”
The bed shifts, and Izuku can feel the desperation in his eyes spill over, track rivulets down his face, when they lock with Katsuki’s. The other boy sighs, the same exhaustion reflected in his own gaze.
“I needed--”
A warm hand settles in Izuku’s hair, and he’s being pulled forward, down, so his head is tucked under Katsuki’s chin.
“Yeah,” Katsuki’s voice rumbles under his cheek. “I know.”
Izuku can feel the rapid beat of Katsuki’s pulse, the way his own breathing stutters quietly in his chest, and Izuku thinks...maybe he does know.
The sobs that wreck Izuku’s body are harsh and painful, and he wants to be embarrassed he’s breaking like this in front of Katsuki, but somehow, somewhere during their long history, they have become the only ones allowed to see each other like this.
He feels his hair grow damp, the silent gasps that come from above, and quietly, carefully, he wraps his bandaged arm around Katsuki’s waist.
Katsuki is alive.
He’s alive.
They’re both alive.
Somehow, miraculously, everyone is alive.
“I’m so glad,” he sighs through the tears. “You’re here.”
He feels the breath catch in Katsuki’s chest, and then a wet face is being shoved into his hair.
“I didn’t--” Katsuki’s voice is rough. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Izuku forces himself to sit up, just enough so he can see Katsuki’s face. He expects him to turn away, hide the evidence of his tears--he doesn’t.
“My body just moved,” Katsuki continues steadily, eyes focused solely on Izuku. “I didn’t think about it at all.”
“Kacchan, that’s…”
“You said that once, didn’t you?” Katsuki asks quietly. “Back then, where everything started.”
“The sludge villain,” Izuku nods. “I saw you and...and then I was just running, no plan, just this all consuming need to help you.”
“Yeah...yeah,” Katsuki sighs, and then his head drops to Izuku’s shoulder. “You’re such a reckless piece of shit,” his voice breaks. “Always have been.”
Izuku doesn’t say anything, tilts his head to rest against Katsuki’s.
“I was--” Katsuki takes a deep, wavering breath. “You really fucking scared me. You’ve always--”
Something clenches in his chest, painful and constricting, it snakes around his lungs and up his throat.
He had never thought...
It’s a sobering realization. One that puts their entire relationship into a new perspective for him.
Izuku knows the relationship he and Katsuki have now is vastly different from the one they started the year with. He knows Katsuki was once his best friend, and then he wasn’t, and now they are something...
But maybe, all along, Katsuki had been just as scared and confused as Izuku.
Stop trying to win this on your own.
“I’m sorry,” Izuku presses into Katsuki’s hair. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know why...I just...”
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, finds Katsuki’s hand and loosely intertwines his aching fingers with his.
“Aizawa, and Gran Torino, and everyone All for One has ever hurt...I was so angry. I couldn’t--I couldn’t stop. I had to beat him, I had to win, no one else was allowed to get hurt. I have the power to stop him, and if I had to bend and break to do it then I was willing to pay that price.”
“You know who you fucking sound like, right?” Katsuki grunts.
“You,” Izuku nods. “Win to save.”
“And save to fucking win,” Katsuki adds, “which you apparently forgot.”
“Yeah, guess I did.”
Katsuki doesn’t say anything for a moment, but the silence between them is comfortable. He’s a warm weight against Izuku’s side, and it lights something soft and precious in his chest.
“S’gonna sound ironic, coming from me,” Katsuki finally says, “but you’re not alone in this.”
“I’m starting to get that,” Izuku grins, squeezing Katsuki’s hand a little tighter. “I’m sorry for scaring you, but I was terrified, too. If I made a mistake then it was over for everyone. Hell, you still had to...god, Kacchan when you appeared next me--” Izuku breaks off, throat tight and constricting.
Katsuki shifts, let’s his head fall further so his face is pressed against Izuku’s throat.
“I’ve never been that scared in my entire life,” Izuku chokes. “More than the training camp, more than Kamino, seeing you like that...you, who is the strongest person I have ever known, I couldn’t even--and then he had the audacity to...to insult you, like that wasn’t the most important thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“It wasn’t,” Katsuki frowns.
“What do you mean it wasn’t?” Izuku furrows his brows.
“It...anyone would have done the same. Besides, I’d say All Might giving you One for All was pretty fucking important,” he argues.
“All Might didn’t save me.”
“Didn’t he though?” Katsuki asks, sitting up. “Didn’t he give you the chance to chase after your dream?”
“Sure, he gave me the chance to be a hero, but,” Izuku pauses, studies Katsuki for a second, “my life would have still continued on, even if he hadn’t.”
“You would have been miserable.”
“I would have moved on,” Izuku argues, leaning forward to catch Katsuki’s warmth again.
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “You would have become a shitty police officer, or something, but you would have kept your dumb notebooks, kept up with the fucking analyses, and wished you were one of them.”
“You think that?”
“And I would have continued feeding my ego, and pushing you down, and this, what’s happening right now,” Katsuku gestures roughly between them, “this would have never been fucking possible.”
“What are you trying to say, Kacchan?” Izuku finally asks. “What are you really trying to do here?”
Katsuki’s face twists, scrunches up as he looks away, as his breathing picks up.
“I’m saying you’ve always been a self-sacrificing piece of shit and I,” Katsuki grunts, hands clenched into fists. “It fucking pissed me off then, and it pisses me off now, but--”
His voice is wrecked, like burning coals one strike from igniting. “But maybe you wouldn’t have thought you had to go it alone if I hadn’t--fuck!”
Izuku startles when Katsuki surges off the bed with a curse, legs barely holding out as he slowly paces the room.
“You're hurt, Kacchan, please sit down,” Izuku says, watching the bandages on the other boy’s chest carefully.
“Why is this so goddamn difficult,” Katsuki hisses, but he stops moving and focuses his piercing eyes on Izuku. “I’m--”
“I know,” Izuku says gently. “You don’t have to say it, Kacchan, I know.”
“I do need to say it.”
Izuku tilts his head and waits, but Katsuki doesn’t continue, his jaw clenching tightly.
“Kacchan, it’s okay.”
“It’s not, fuck. You goddamn shitty nerd. It’s not okay,” Katsuki spits, eyes wild and bright. “I thought you were going to fucking die without ever having had the chance to fucking--”
“I forgave you a long time ago, Kacchan,” Izuku interrupts. “I don’t need you to apologize.”
“Yeah, well, you’re fucking dumb,” Katsuki growls, and Izuku huffs a small laugh. Katsuki’s glare softens some when he glances at Izuku.
“I’m serious,” Izuku smiles. “I don’t need an apology to know you’re sorry. I’m not actually stupid, I do recognize what you’ve been doing these past few months.”
“No, you’re not stupid,” Katsuki relents. “You might not need one, but you deserve one.”
“Maybe, but you also deserve to forgive yourself,” Izuku counters, and suddenly the distance between them is too much again. He reaches a shaking arm out, and Katsuki is suddenly there, arms bracketing Izuku’s body, face pressed into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
It’s soft, almost too quiet to catch, but Izuku feels the words pressed into his skin, the catch in his voice, the trembling of his body.
“I know,” Izuku whispers, buries his hand in Katsuki’s hair. “I forgive you.”
There’s another catch in Katsuki’s breath, a sharp, hitching gasp that spills over and out and it’s like the wall between them is finally crumbling down.
“Izuku.”
“Kacchan.”
~
He’s not sure how long they stay like that, holding onto one another, trembling with all the tears and feelings they had never said before, but eventually Katsuki pulls back and Izuku lets him go.
Their gazes meet, quietly studying each other with fresh eyes, no more secrets buried under years of anger and pain.
Once more, Izuku finds warmth on his cheeks, finds his head cradled in the hands of the strongest person he knows.
Izuku waits, watches Katsuki watch him.
“I--” Katsui pauses, shakes his head with a small grin. “I think you should get that nurse, now.”
“What?” The spell is broken and Izuku’s eyes widen in panic, standing quickly to fret and worry and guide Katsuki back onto the bed.
Katsuki smiles and it’s soft and sweet and does something fierce to Izuku’s heart.
“Calm down, Deku, fuck,” he gasps, from amusement or pain Izuku isn’t quite sure. “I just need new meds,” he looks down at himself, “and probably new bandages.”
“Oh god, you’ve been bleeding this entire time, haven’t you? Oh my god, this is my fault, when did you even wake up? Are you in pain? I never even asked, did I?”
“Deku,” Katsuki grasps his wrist, stops him from spiraling into a deeper panic. “I’m fine. Besides,” he grins, lightly tugging so Izuku’s knuckles brush his cheek, “you’re the one that’s gonna get reamed for being out of bed.”
“Fuck.”
Katsuki’s laugh is bright, and Izuku decides it’s his new favorite sound.
~
Hospital mornings are loud, the stillness of the night suddenly bursting into flurries of activity and voices and so much poking and prodding.
After he’s been thoroughly chewed out by his mom and doctor for having left his bed last night, not to mention tearing his IV out (something Katsuki can never find out about), his mom leaves to get breakfast, and he’s left alone to his thoughts and the brilliant glare of the sun.
Tomorrow he can start to have visitors, and he’s excited to see Todoroki. He’s been with Endeavour most of this week, but he poked his head in once, briefly, and the relief in his heterochromatic eyes made Izuku’s own well with tears.
He saved him in ways Izuku isn’t sure how to explain, just yet. He had reached out when Izuku couldn’t, and he’ll forever be grateful for that.
Maybe after Todoroki, Uraraka and Iida will visit. He doesn’t know much about what happened during their fight, but he knows it left a mark on all his friends.
There’s a slight breeze from his open window, and he watches as birds flutter across the sky, as the clouds shape and reform, as life continues to carry on like normal around him.
The doctor had to up his medication dosage after last night left his arms throbbing and painful, so he’s feeling rather sleepy.
For once, it’s not weighed down by the heaviness of the unknown, he feels peaceful and content, and he easily let’s his eyes slide shut.
When he blinks them open again, the room is dark, and there’s a warm pressure on his hand, hair tickling his nose from the face tucked under his chin.
“Hey, nerd.”
“Kacchan,” he smiles, smooshes his face into Katsuki’s hair.
They still have a lot they need to discuss, over a decade of miscommunication they need to explore, but there’s a steady thrumming of happiness building in Izuku’s heart, something light and innocent he has never felt before.
There are a lot of things Izuku has come to dislike about hospitals, but perhaps nights aren’t the worst, after all.