Whipped Cream {Sequel to Marshmallow}

Chapter Ten

This wasn't supposed to happen - it wasn't supposed to be like this.

It was just supposed to be a rescue programme; a training simulation. 

Izuku wasn't supposed to be stood, unable to move past the fear crippling his body, as the monster smashed his Unkie's face against the ground again, and again, and again.

Again.

Again.

Red flooded his vision - red coaxing his Unkie's face - red splattering on the cracked ground - red smearing across the monsters fingers. Red, thick, blood. 

The command rung in his head, twisted and snarling against the buzzing in his ear drums. It carved into his brain, making his throat burn and stomach churn to the point he was sure he had himself turned into a knotted piece pf rob.

"Kill Eraserhead."

Red.

This red is different though, and as his eyes meet it his mind is snapped back to reality.

There's fingers pressed on the outside of his face, pressured enough to bruise, and a hand obstructing most his view - all except the red of Shouta's eyes as he desperately keeps his eyes open despite the crushing of his features against the cement.

His pain to save Izuku.

"Izuku!"

Gasping, he suddenly felt the adrenaline pushing through his system. The shout, full of agony and desperation, shook Izuku to his core. He gripped the wrist, wrenching the hand from his face and barely meeting the eyes of the frustrated Villain, clenching his teeth as he released his grip, dodging another hand coming his way.

"You filthy Hero! Stay still and let me kill you!"

Izuku skidded to the ground, the Villain throwing his body towards him, and grabbed a hand full of dust, throwing it into the Villains face as he ran towards the monster killing his Unkie. His mind was blank and over active, none of his thoughts helping him. 

He knew he had to save the Hero.

"Izuku! Run!" Choosing to ignore his Unkie, he used the monsters free arm - the other one bashing his Unkie's face into the ground - to leap up, wrapping his arms around it's neck and hanging off it's back. He pushed to stabilise himself, proud he'd distracted it for a moment, and wrapped his legs around the neck instead, sitting on it's higher back.

The thing looked to have no real weakness besides their eyes and open brains. He drew his arm up, fingers cutting on the edge of the sharp stone he'd collected at the beginning of the lesson because he thought it looked cool, and slammed it down. 

Repeatedly.

He screamed as blood coaxed onto his face, matting his hair and staining his suit. 

The monster didn't even seem fazed. 

He reached around messily, jamming into it's eyes. At least that got a reaction. It screamed, bursting his ear drums, and bucking him off.

He landed on the ground heavily, wrist snapping and stone discarded, breathe knocking out of him. His ears burned, blood oozing from them and making everything fuzzy. He cried out as he tried to push up, a foot pressing onto his chest. His eyes met the red of the Villains.

Red.

He was forced away by a blast of wind, a blur of blonde and muscle as the monster was knocked off Shouta. 

All Might vs the Monster.

That was non of his concern as he crawled to his Unkie, his non-broken hand grasping Shouta's as a childish voice cut through his mind.

All Might is here; we'll be okay.

__________

'Come on Jelly Bean, you need to get checked out too.'

Izuku barely shook his head, body numb as he tried to focus on his Uncle's signing. His eyes trailed back up to where Shouta was - hidden in a ambulance. He took a step towards it, only to gave Hizashi gently hold his shoulders, forcing his attention back to him.

'It's okay, he'll be okay. You need to to get checked out too. This way.'

 Izuku trusted his Uncle, and took a step, only to stop as his eyes widened. His Unkie was going to be okay - his mind was too numb to believe anything else - but he wasn't the only one here. He didn't recognise his own voice as it broke, muffled to his own ears.

"Wh-What about Hit-Hitoshi and Kisan! Ka-Kacchan! I need to- I need to pro-protect them-" He was cut off by a soft hand cupping his face, nothing like the cold one that had clutched it previously, and soft eyes forcing his attention. He was able to read the lips belonging to his kind Uncle, the words making his shoulders slump in relief.

Everyone is okay.

He fell into the blonde chest, the pain edging into an ache from nothingness, tears soaking his eyes. He was so tired.

His body was lifted as he became more delirious, unable to make out shapes and colours - all except one. Yellow, he kept a hold of the yellow.  

Yellow wasn't red,