just a normal patrol

Chapter 23

A/N thanks for all the reads, votes, or comments. Also, pray for me in science. They sat me next to my very transphobic bully.
🙏😭🙏

-Izukus POV-
I sit up. I look at the clock. It's midnight. I can't go to bed, my mind won't let me. I sit up and grab some clean clothes. I turn on the shower and let the water wash away the hands. I scrub my body raw, trying to free myself of his marks. Hand prints lie on my hips, painful to the touch. Forced hickeys placed on my back and shoulders. Tears and blood mix with the water, creating a salty array of liquids on the shower floor. I get out quickly and grab a pencil sharpener, everything is too much, I'll just cut a little bit. Nothing major. I smash it against the counter, breaking it into pieces. The clatter of plastic hitting the floor echoes a perfect melody, silencing his words.

I hop back into the shower. The water running down my back. I go for my thighs first, his hands and hickeys decorate them. I cry as I recall the way I wanted to shake off his touch so desperately. What did I do to deserve this?

Finger prints dug into my wrists. I quickly drag the blade along them. I turn off the water and step out. I grab a towel and dry myself off. The white turning red. I toss on some boxers and my final clean pair of pants. I put on a short sleeved shirt. I carry the hoodie with me to my bed. I sit down and start up with the blade again.

The blood washed away his marks, making new stains on my skin. My stains, not his. Everything felt like I was in control. Until black dots start to cloud my vision. I make one weak line on my arm before dropping the blade. Fuck, I need help. Tears rush down as the lump in my throat grows. It's one o'clock. I walk downstairs, gripping the railing for dear life. One hand on the railing, the other holding a first aid kit. The hoodie sitting on my bed still. I walk down. A small puddle of blood follows me. I see that they're still up.

"Guys? Sorry to bother-" I'm cut off by them rushing up to me. They grab the first aid kit and sit me down.

"Kid, what did you do? Do you see your arms right now?" Aizawa asks. Shame follows the puddles. They pry open the kit. They start wrapping up my arms.

"I'm sorry.." They stare at me like a deer in headlights.

"What? You're telling me you need to be sorry because you didn't let yourself bleed out and instead did the right thing of coming down here and asking for help? Wow, you should be very, very sorry Izuku. No! You don't need to be sorry. We should've kept an eye on you." Aizawa half-jokes. I chuckle from his sarcasm.

"I promise I didn't mean to go this far. I just wanted my skin to feel like mine again." I practically see something inside them either snap or disintegrate.

"Do not give him that power. You hear me? You are yours, not his. None of you is owned. Not even your memories. Those are yours, you are your own fucking ecosystem. The marks on you, the memories, none of you is owned. It never will be." Mic rambles. Aizawa finishes my arms. I smile. My smile falls off my face as tears crash down. I launch forward and hug them, looking for any sense of comfort. They quickly hug back. They cry with me. I pass out on them.

I wake up the next morning. They still hold me even if they're asleep. It's comforting to know someone cares about you that much. I freeze as Mic's hand accidentally slips to my waist. My breathing stops. I try and move but I just get pulled back. I get myself out, managing to not wake anyone up. My breathing returns. My thoughts are altered and paused however when I get a notification. I open my phone and sit on the floor in front of them.

'Hey! You didn't seem to be doing well yesterday. I hope you feel better! Also, the hag says hi. Good morning btw, nerd.' I read. I silently giggle to myself.