Timefuckery

Chapter 13

I am so sorry it took this long for this sad excuse of a chapter to come out. I haven't fallen out of the fandom or anything. This summer I should have more chapters coming, but I am giving zero promises. I'm going to sign up for a job over the summer before my senior year next year.

Overall, my mental health has been hanging on a very thin wire lately, and I impulsively bought animals and planted plants to try and force myself to get my shit together. My point is: I will try to get updates out, but absolutely zero promises. 

I despise this chapter with every fibre of my being, but I'm just throwing it out here so I can start working on the good stuff. Read more on how the story will go and why I've been gone at the end.

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"Come on, you can do this, just hang on a little longer."

"Tell the others I never hated them, please."

"Medic! Please, please, we need a medic!"

"Always been a crybaby, huh, Deku?"

"Kacchan, come on, stay with me."

"We were the best hero duo, Deku. Just like we said."

"Don't say things like that! You're going to live."

"Tell mom that I love her, that she's not a hag."

"Please! We need a medic!"

"Tell the others I loved them too."

"Please!"

"Come on, Deku, don't be a crybaby."

"..."

"Do that weird looking smile you always do."

"I...okay..."

"There you go."

"...say hi to Aizawa sensei for me, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Izu. Goodbye."

"...goodbye, Kat."

"..."

Izuku shot up from bed, his overactive tear ducts forming fat globs of salty liquid already. Shuddering and sobbing, he looked at his palms, which collected the tears.

His breaths came out sharp and quick, mixed with incoherent babbling- when had he started trying to speak? Izuku wrapped his arms around himself in a sad mimicry of an embrace. At that particular moment, all he could feel was the sting of betrayal, the numbing feeling of grief, and the horrible sensation of drowning guilt.

Sniffling pathetically, he suppressed his sobs. He could feel the lingering warmth from the blood still on his hands. He could still feel the way his hands slid off of one another as he tried to bring life back into the eyes of his best friend. How Izuku, wracked with grief, screamed and screamed until his throat went raw.

How his brother in everything but blood never got to see Izuku become the top hero of Japan, how the sun was shining during his funeral, mocking him, his death, his suffering-

Izuku shook his head, throwing off the covers and stumbling to the bathroom of his apartment, splashing his face with freezing water to shock him back to reality. He did so several times until the scarlet stains disappeared from the corner of his vision.

Shuddering, Izuku shut the water off, watching the clear liquid drip from his messy hair into the white basin. He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white, to get his hands to stop shaking.

In moments like these, he felt helpless. He felt scared. He felt like every inch of the child he should be. And the thought of that terrified him right down to his core.