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When Deku landed on that battlefield, he had hope, so much hope. But it was dashed away as he spotted him.
He was so still. Too still. He was never that still. His movements loud even when minuscule.
Snap.
Deku doesn’t know what did it. What snapped inside him. His heart? He presses a fist tightly to his chest. He feels hot and cold all over; can’t feel his body. Floating. Like he’s drifting in the ocean, body rocked back and forth by the waves. Being taken out to sea - powerless against its current. Nothing tying him to land anymore.
Something yellow catches his eye. A card? An All Might card. Blood covers part of a corner.
Screams burst from deep within. The ocean quickly turning into a hurricane. He doesn’t stop it. Doesn’t want it to stop.
Turning to ShigAFO, he knows what he has to do. He opens his mouth, “ALL FOR ONE… is Shigaraki… still there…?”
The vestiges are surrounding him. But all he wants is to lay down next to Kacchan. He has to see him.
Just one last time.
Please just one more time.
Please.
He doesn’t know if he’s pleading with himself, Kacchan, or death. Doesn’t know if anyone can hear his pleas. He stumbles, bloody and broken and dirty to his partner, his best friend, the love of his life.
Just one more glance.
Let him see him.
He trips a few feet away and goes down hard.
People are scrambling around him. Can hear his name being called but he doesn’t listen. He needs Kacchan. Kacchan will make it better. He has to tell him… has to tell him they won. He can feel the vestiges urging him forward as he crawls the rest of the way; the last bits of green lightning pushing him on. He wonders for half a second how much his body moving was himself or the vestiges.
Bet then, oh but then he sees Kacchan. His beautiful face. Marred by blood. And eyes that don’t acknowledge. One hand slips on the blood as Deku pushes himself up over his partner. The other comes to rest on his unmarred cheek.
Deku thinks Kacchan could almost be laying in bed with him, just waking up as the sun shines brightly through their dorm windows. He knows they’re not. But he wishes a little that all this was a dream. That they’d wake up as they’ve done, wrapped tight in one another’s embrace. Warm and satisfied and content. Kacchan would run fingers through his curls at the base of his neck and count as many freckles he could reach with his lips. And Izuku would giggle and respond with Kacchans ministrations by kissing every inch of his face and squeezing his body as tight as he could so they could be as close as possible forever.
Like he could stitch himself to Kacchan.
That sounded like a good idea.
Deku leaned down and kissed his lover on blood stained lips and whispered, “We won Kacchan, we did it.” Strength left Izuku quickly, the last of his lightning sputtered out; he proceeded to curl up in the space between Kacchan’s body and uninjured arm. Head laid upon his love’s shoulder, above the gruesome injury. This is where he wanted to be. Always.
“I love you, Kacchan.” Deku whispered one last time before allowing his eyes to close. He could finally sleep with Kacchan by his side.
The sun blinded Izuku when he opened his eyes. What- where was-
“Zuku! Come on, slowpoke!” A voice called out. One he’d know anywhere.
A forest rose up around him. He was in the forest with Kacchan? That’s right! They loved playing heroes in the forest. Were they playing heroes?
“Coming Kacchan!” He called out and rushed to chase after his already departed friend. His smaller feet carried him as fast as he could.
“Come on! Are you slower now or somethin’?” Kacchan called back from his position a few feet ahead. Izuku let out a whine and tried to push his legs faster.
“I’m not!”
“Are too!”
“Are not!”
“Are too, dumb Deku!”
“Kacchan, don’t be mean!”
“You’re mine, so I can be mean to you all I want to!”
“No you can’t!” Izuku protested. But he couldn’t help the bright, wide smile that overwhelmed his face at hearing Kacchan call him ‘his’.
“Keep up, Deku! I’m gonna cross the creek way faster than you and you better watch me.”
When would Kacchan learn he couldn’t take his eyes off him. He’d always watch Kacchan.
Sudden fear sliced through Deku as he watched the older blonde place a muddy shoe on the log, “Wait! Don't-”
“Nope, get faster!” Kacchan called back and Izuku watched with growing worry as Kacchan stepped completely onto the log, one foot in front of the other, though much slower than when he was running through the forest.
“But Kacchan,”
“Eyes on me, Deku.” He glanced over his shoulder, bright ruby red boring into Izuku’s soft green. Which made it easy to watch as shock flashed over the blonde’s features. His foot slipped and he fell down - down down down - into the creek below with a sharp cry.
“Kacchan!” Deku rushed forward, easing down the embankment as best he could. Red shoes muddy. His heart beat fast and mind anxious. Water splashed around him, covered his shoes and lower legs. Kacchan was sitting up, thankfully, face pinched in pain, but disappeared an instant later with an annoyed frown.
Izuku instantly reached out a hand, “Are you okay? You didn’t hit your head right? That looked like it hurt.”
He felt like he knew how this was supposed to go. That Kacchan would brush him off, would get mad at him. Turn him away.
“Yeah nerd,” a much larger hand reached back. Izuku followed that hand up a well muscled arm to see an older and even more gorgeous Kacchan standing there. Hand now gripped tight to Deku’s larger scarred hand. “I’m okay. Thanks.”
“That’s good. You need to be more careful, Kacchan.” Deku smiled brightly as he pulled the other boy up to his feet, hands staying together. Fingers shifting to slot together more comfortably.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Kacchan’s mouth pulled up at the corner.
Deku rolled his eyes and reached with his non occupied hand to cup Kacchan’s cheek, “What am I gonna do with you?”
Kacchan’s smirk stretched into a full smile, a little crazy at the edges, “I can think of a few things.”
“Kacchan !” Deku gasped, scandalized.
The blonde chuckled, then leaned in for a kiss. Deku stopped thinking about anything after that. With Kacchan all he needed was him. And he'd succumb everytime.
Aizawa knew he should be helping. Knew he should be part of the pros that would be coming in to help get the League and Shigaraki in cuffs and taken away to the proper facilities. He needed to do that. But he can’t. He can’t.
The battlefield had gone quiet as fast as it had erupted. But this was worse. So much worse. It was suffocating. Barely anyone moved. And Aizawa couldn’t keep his eyes from his problem children. He’d watched as Bakugou was defeated - unable to look away. He watched Midoriya defeat Shigaraki. Watched as he stumbled injured and hurting toward the body of his best friend. Green lightning still surrounding him. People had been shouting orders and had tried to get Deku to stop. To stay away from the scene. Away from his partner.
But he hadn't listened. Like he didn’t hear a word. Eyes only on the boy on the ground.
Aizawa could only watch as his first problem child leaned over his second problem child, kissed him, whispered something and laid down in his arms. Green lightning going still and quiet.
And Aizawa knew. He knew. Tears fell from his eyes; not from quirk overuse. Jeanist, who had been stationed by Bakugo’s head, reached forward and placed two fingers against Midoriya’s pulse point.
A hush fell over the battlefield.
Jeanist lifted his head, eyes staring at everything and nothing, and shook his head.
He knew.
The quiet was stifling.
Aizawa felt a foot move without acknowledgement. Then the other.
Those are his kids. Those are his kids! He had to get to his kids!
He’s the only one moving now. The only one making a sound. He doesn’t care about the others. Aizawa knows he should. He should he should he should.
He doesn’t.
The only sound is the pounding of his feet as he cuts across to his kids. His problem children . He lands next to Best Jeanist. Body jerking in pain from the way his knees hit the ground. He reached out with a shaking hand - who cared about hurt knees when his kids could (are) be…
Both hands find pulse points. He looks over them and thinks they could be sleeping with the way they lay together. Despite red eyes looking up at nothing. He knows.
He knows.
He waits. He needs this. He wants… he can’t find anything.
He pulls his hand back slowly. Shaking.
“I’m sorry, Eraser.” Jeanist whispers, hand resting on his upper back; trying to comfort.
Aizawa bursts into tears. They were going to be the best of them all.
He supposes they already were.