To Stand by Your Side (DekuBaku)

Chapter 36: To Stand by Your Side

Love you too, Kacchan. Love you too.

Hushed, barely even a whisper. Izuku couldn't manage anything stronger, though—not after hours of fending off the brutal assault on his psyche, not after so much time spent holding back tears and trying to channel his fear into strength.

I love you, he heard again through the phone, hardly conscious. I love you, I love you, I love you.

I love you too, Izuku repeated, matching Katsuki word for word. Love you too, love you too, love you too.

Not for the first time that night, the sheets felt scratchier than usual. Or was it the pants? Kirishima had let him borrow a pair of sweats while they ran his own through the wash, and while Izuku was grateful for every semblance of help they'd offered him—food, shelter, clothing—it was as if he was living in some tilted, slightly-distorted world. Focusing on Katsuki's sleep-induced mumbling was easier, but with it getting quieter by the second, Izuku knew he'd need a new distraction soon.

By this time tomorrow, I'll be done with the media.

He kicked the sheets back, favoring the chill of his friend's AC over sweating out under the mound of blankets they'd given him.

By this time tomorrow, I won't have to hide again.

He scratched at his legs again—for some reason, his scars kept tingling every time he started thinking about the interview.

By this time tomorrow, I hope they'll lay off of Kacchan for good.

Izuku pulled a pillow to his chest as he listened to Katsuki drift off to sleep; it was a poor substitute for his actual boyfriend, but if he closed his eyes, it was easier to pretend the thing in his arms wasn't actually a barely-used pillow, and that he wasn't just laying on a spare air mattress in his friend's living room. He told them he would've been fine with the couch, but they'd been insistent upon trying to do everything they could to make him comfortable. At least in this house, Izuku didn't feel like he had every pair of eyes watching his every move. Falling asleep in his own room had proven to be difficult over the past week, and just knowing that he was with trusted people helped to fuel his comfort level slightly more.

Even so, the silence was still deafening.

Maybe I should grab some water... yeah, that'd probably be a good call.

He muted himself on the call before standing up, not wanting to wake Katsuki in case he accidentally tripped and fell face-first in his friends' kitchen on the way to the sink. He kept the earbuds in, though—right now, that stupid, silly phone call was the only tie they could cling to, the only reminder that neither of them were alone.

Where are they, where are they...

Ghastly phone-flashlight white dripped from wooden cabinets and glistened off the tile floor as he stumbled into the kitchen, trying his best to remember where his friends had stashed the cups without waking them up. But god, he was exhausted—if Izuku had a say in it, he'd pass out for a week straight right then and there. For as much as his limbs ached with each and every step, his mind wouldn't shut off; numbing adrenaline coursed through his veins, and the idea of actual sleep was hardly more than a pipe dream.

Trembling hands wrapped around one of the cabinet handles and pulled it open; they'd turn up eventually if he checked each one, after all. Open, close, open, close. He struck out on the first few, but as Izuku stuck his hand out to the second cabinet from the end, he smacked something else—something hard, cold, and clattering to the floor with a loud crash as he jumped back and screamed.