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“A goddamn candy factory? Really?”
Katsuki stares up at the unassuming building, standing between Deku and Mindfuck while their sidekicks form a perimeter around the building. He’s decidedly unimpressed. Villains are getting fucking lame these days.
Shinso shrugs. “Guess this guy has a sweet tooth.”
The three of them have been tracking a relatively unknown villain for the last couple of days. He hasn’t done anything truly dramatic yet, but he’s been implicated in a series of robberies and managed to put a few people in the hospital in the process. They don’t know his name, and they aren’t sure about his quirk, but the police managed to track him to this candy factory when all the workers were unceremoniously kicked out.
Maybe it’s a bit much to have three top heroes for this, but Katsuki hasn’t been on too many missions with Deku lately. He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to spend more time with his boyfriend and get his blood pumping in the process.
Sure, they see each other at home, but Katsuki’s been working more late shifts lately helping Shitty Hair and Raccoon Eyes with a case. He hasn’t seen the nerd much, and he’s secretly a sappy dork, even though he never wants to admit it to anyone but Deku. Sue him.
As if on cue, Deku steps forward, jerking his head towards the building in front of them. “C’mon. We can probably wrap this up quick.” His eyes turn mischievous as they settle on Katsuki. “Maybe we can get an early night tonight, Kacchan. We can finish that horror movie we were watching the other night!”
Katsuki blushes. Deku’s even more of a sap than he is. “You just want an excuse to get me in bed,” he says, smirking to distract from the way his stomach flutters. It makes Deku laugh– a tension-breaker before a good fight.
“You’re a jerk. But I love you,” Izuku says, still smiling as he takes a step forward towards the factory.
“You two are adorable,” Shinso deadpans. “But can we get on with this? Some of us have places to be.”
Katsuki laughs. He’s missed Mindfuck and his sass. The two of them have become pretty good friends over the years; he enjoys Shinso’s snarky sense of humor and he respects his ability to kick ass. But that doesn’t stop him from smirking again, grabbing Deku’s hand and pulling him in for a quick kiss, partly because he wants to and partly to see Mindfuck roll his eyes. “For luck,” Katsuki says, as Deku blushes bright red.
Shinso doesn’t disappoint, rolling his eyes just like Katsuki knew he would. “I take it back. You two are disgusting and I never want to see either of you again.”
Katsuki claps him on the back. “C’mon. Let’s go kick some ass.”
He’s still bone-tired from the late-night patrols he’s been doing, but he’s been itching for a good fight for a while. Things have been too quiet lately, and he feels the sparks crackle in his palms as the three of them rush inside.
They’re immediately swamped by a few henchmen, which Katsuki didn’t even know this guy had. Maybe he’s a bigger player than they thought he was. Shinso stays back to handle them on his own, yelling that Katsuki and Deku should go on ahead. Deku grins at him as Katsuki runs ahead, his eyes sparkling the way they always do when they’re heading into a fight together. Katsuki really loves that sparkle.
“Welcome to the party, heroes!”
The villain is standing on a gangway above the factory floor. He’s wearing a dorky black trench coat the way movie bad guys often do, and Katsuki fights the urge to laugh when he sees it. The machines all look inoperable, like they’ve been recently shut down. There are a lot of them though… conveyer belts and mixers and a giant vat of something sweet that makes Katsuki’s nose wrinkle. Fucker has a flair for the dramatic, then. Neither one of them wastes any time, sharing a single glance and wordlessly communicating the game plan. Katsuki loves that too– the way he and Deku can wordlessly understand each other with nothing more than a few glances and knowing looks. It always makes Katsuki feel warm, to have a partner that knows him so completely.
Deku floats himself upwards, and Katsuki propels himself to the platform with his explosions. They both land simultaneously in front of this asshole, staring him down with matching glares. “The fuck are you doing here, idiot? Stand down and come quietly,” Katsuki says.
Deku simply powers up One For All, watching and waiting for this guy to make a move. It’s a strategy they’ve used in the past; Katsuki baits the idiot villain, and then Deku moves into striking distance before they even have time to blink.
But this guy doesn’t seem fazed, and his smile gets even wider as he gestures for the two of them to come closer. Katsuki shares a look with Deku, before the two of them shrug, charging forward. If this villain isn’t in the mood to come quietly, maybe an explosion to the face will set him right.
Then Katsuki blinks, as he sees something whiz past Deku’s head. He doesn’t know what it is, but Deku dodges it expertly, before aiming a well-placed kick to the man’s solar plexus that the villain dodges with ease. Katsuki pops off an explosion to the man’s right, to keep him from running away like a coward, but he simply feints, running across the gangway and avoiding Deku’s next punch.
Seems like this guy’s had some training, Katsuki muses. There are very few organized crime rings, since the demise of the League, but individual players with some high-level training aren’t unheard of. It makes this op just that much more fun. He can feel his blood pumping already, and he grins widely.
“That all you got, extra? Come fight me!” Katsuki taunts, as Deku launches a couple Air Force blasts intending to draw the villain closer to his explosions. It works as intended, and the villain changes direction, his coat whipping around himself as he does. Katsuki can’t help but laugh as he imagines the guy tripping over his own damn outfit.
He plants himself in the villain’s path, his palm held out as he prepares to launch an explosion at him. The man doesn’t seem bothered by Katsuki’s feral smile and raised gauntlets, and he just keeps running towards him with a blank look on his face. It’s a little unsettling. Is he insane? What the hell is this guy doing?
Katsuki shrugs. If this guy has a death wish, it’s not his problem. It makes their jobs that much easier. His brow furrows, the sweat gathering in his palm and heating up as the man runs across the gangway. But just before he fires, the villain slides right under his outstretched palm in a move that he would have seen coming a mile away if he hadn’t been running mostly on adrenaline for the past few days. And then…
Katsuki doesn’t know how it happens. One minute he’s standing in front of the scumbag villain, feral smirk on his face and explosions sparking in his palms. The next he feels an impossibly strong fist collide with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying backwards and over the edge of the high platform. It all happens so fast that he doesn’t even have time to react. The lack of sleep must be catching up with him, because instead of propelling himself into the air like he normally would, today he just keeps falling, struggling to catch his breath in midair before plunging into the large vat of what he now sees is molasses below.
Everything is dark. The vat is not that deep, and Katsuki manages to clamp his mouth and eyes shut before he accidentally swallows some of the stuff or it gets in his eyes. But he claws and twists, trying to move his body and get the fuck out of this sticky mess even as the heavy gauntlets on his wrists make it difficult. The thick liquid coats every inch of him, making it impossible to move and get his head above the surface, but he’s making some progress at getting himself out. And then…
And then he’s suddenly somewhere else, his limbs locking up and his mind racing as memories from a different time make it impossible to move. Memories of an entirely different day, a day when he was fifteen years old and his whole body was trapped in sludge as he struggled desperately to get free.
Perfect. I like a skin suit with some fire.
Fuck, not again. He’s trapped there again. He's back with that maniac, feeling those tendrils of sludge wrap around his legs, his hands, his throat. He hasn’t thought about this in years; he’s been going to therapy and working on his anger and doing everything he’s supposed to do so that these episodes don’t fucking happen anymore, but somehow he’s still being dragged back into those dark memories anyway. He can’t move, can’t scream, can’t breathe. The factory, the villain, the fight… It’s all fading quickly into the background as the memories take over. He can’t remember where he is or what he’s doing and he needs to get the fuck out before I fucking die here—
He doesn’t notice the tank exploding, and he doesn’t register that he’s the one who exploded it. He can’t see the shards of metal and smell the hot molasses around him. He can’t see who’s standing in this room, or anything around them. He doesn’t realize his hands are moving until he feels them clawing at his throat and chest, trying to get this fucking sludge off of him as he struggles to breathe. The stuff is everywhere, coating his limbs and his face and his hair. It feels like dying, like he’s trapped back in the sludge villain’s body with no possible escape. He can’t even open his eyes because of the sludge’s thickness; he’s just standing here waiting for it to suffocate him as the villain tries to shove the sticky goo down his throat. He wipes at his eyes, but he doesn’t dare open them, suddenly terrified of what he’ll see.
He doesn’t know what his body or his voice is doing; he’s trapped inside his own mind, struggling against the torrent of thoughts assaulting his brain. He isn’t even sure if he’s talking out loud, if the sludge is blocking his mouth or not, because he can open his mouth but he can’t seem to get enough air. Let me go, he thinks weakly. Let me go—Please, I’ll do anything, just let me go. I don’t wanna die like this, I don’t wanna die… Twenty-year old Katsuki yells at him to stop being so dramatic, but fifteen-year old Katsuki can’t hear him over the ringing in his ears.
And then he remembers a pair of green eyes and a bright smile. Deku. He doesn’t know if he says it inside his head or out loud but he wants Deku. Deku will help. Deku is safe—Deku means safety and home and comfort and he always has. Deku loves him. Deku always helps him through these flashbacks and kisses him and says he’s proud of him… Deku won’t let him suffocate like this. Deku, please, get it off me, get it off me—
The factory, the villain, the fight—all of it is impossibly far away. He’s going to drown here under an ocean of sludge, and there’s nothing he can fucking do about it.
Izuku watches Kaccchan take that hit and fall from the railing, his gut tightening the way it always does when Kacchan is in danger. But he knows it’s only a matter of time before Dynamight is back in the fight, yelling at this guy for thinking he can get the drop on them like some kind of amateur. They’ve both faced their fair share of danger over the years, and Izuku’s gotten better at not worrying too much during the heat of battle. By now he’s an expert at pushing his feelings down until they’re back at their apartment and he can kiss Kacchan as much as he wants.
So Izuku doesn’t flinch, just charges forward until he’s facing the unknown villain with a hard glare on his face. The man is smiling, grinning like a child in a… well, candy factory, but Izuku doesn’t have time to dwell on it as he dodges a powerful right hook without a moment to spare. Must be some sort of strength and speed type quirk. Basic power enhancer. He takes it in stride, dodging to the left before letting out three quick blasts with Air Force in rapid succession.
It knocks the villain backwards, and now that Izuku has a moment to breathe, he finds himself wondering where Kacchan is. He usually doesn’t waste a moment during a fight, never down for long and always coming back with a feral grin and a snarky one-liner about how no one can beat him. Izuku turns his head, looking for that familiar flash of orange and black. Where—
“Deku!”
Izuku freezes, his head whipping towards the source of the sound faster than he thought possible. He’s never heard that kind of agony in Kacchan’s voice before– not even when he was impaled in two different places. Izuku can see him sitting on the floor, but even from here he can tell that something’s wrong. Kacchan isn’t moving, just sitting there screaming like something’s hurting him badly.
Izuku’s suddenly furious, turning back to the villain and letting out a loud, angry scream as Blackwhip bursts from his hands. The tendrils wrap around the man, tossing him through the hole in the wall left by one of Kacchan’s explosions, and he watches with satisfaction as the villain careens into the opposite wall. When Izuku sees the large canisters of candy fall from the shelves, burying him completely for the moment, he sprints towards Kacchan and lets out a choked up noise when he takes in the sight before him.
Kacchan is sitting on the floor, his whole body covered in… Is that molasses? Izuku glances towards the remains of the tank that Kacchan fell into before. He’s not screaming anymore, instead he’s letting out low wheezing noises, like he’s trying to breathe—Why can’t he breathe?
“Deku,” Kacchan wheezes. It comes out much smaller this time, like Kacchan’s getting desperate or just can’t get air into his lungs, and it tears Izuku to shreds.
“Kacchan?”
Kacchan lets out a low whine. “ Deku, he—Villain—Sludge—Get him off me, please—”
Izuku gasps. He’s covered in—Sludge villain. Oh crap.
No, no, no, no. Not now. Midoriya nearly starts crying right there, because he can’t help Kacchan the way he wants to with this villain still here. But he can’t break now– not when Kacchan needs him to be strong. He just has to stabilize, do damage control until he can stop this guy and give Kacchan his full attention. If he can stop Kacchan from spiraling completely... “Kacchan, can you hear me? Can you focus on my voice?”
Kacchan’s hands are clawing at his arms, his chest, his throat, like he’s trying to pull the sludge villain off of his body the way he did when they were fifteen. But he turns his head towards where Izuku is, even though his eyes stay shut. “Deku. He’s all over me, he—Can’t breathe .”
“Kacchan,” Izuku says, through tears. He hates it when Kacchan is like this, hates seeing the man he loves, the person who means more to him than anyone else in the world, fighting a battle inside his head that Izuku has almost no power to help him with. The villain fades into the back of his mind, and all of his attention focuses on Kacchan’s trembling body. All Izuku can do in moments like this is just be there, and he always wishes he could do more. Seeing Kacchan like this always makes Izuku feel like he’s the one in pain; it tears him apart like someone is carving him up with a knife. “I’m here, Kacchan. You’re not there—you’re not. You’re right here next to me. You can breathe baby, just take deep breaths for me.”
He glances around quickly, and by some miracle he finds a rag tossed somewhere on the floor a short distance away. He grabs it with Blackwhip in a hurry, trying to clear some of the sticky substance away from Kacchan’s mouth and eyes. The sound protection in his ears probably means that they’re mostly alright, but he cleans them anyway. He’s only managed to make a little progress when he hears Kacchan wheezing again. But his face and eyes are mostly clear— at least enough that it won’t obstruct his airway or vision. “Kacchan, please, please, you have to breathe. You can do it.”
“I—” Kacchan manages to take one shaky breath, and Izuku nearly weeps at the sight. He can hear crashes coming from the next room, like the villain’s getting up again. “He got me again—Too weak—”
Izuku presses his forehead against Kacchan’s sticky one, trying to project comfort directly from his brain into Kacchan’s. He knows what he has to do, but he hates that he has to do it. “You’re not weak, Kacchan. You’re strong, you’re so strong, baby. You’re going to be okay, I promise, but you need to be strong for a little longer, okay?”
“Deku no—Don’t leave me with him –”
Izuku lets out a strangled sob, feeling like he’s being torn in half. “Kacchan... Your eyes are clean, so is your mouth and nose. Can you open your eyes for me? You can, I know you can.”
For a moment Izuku thinks he won’t do it, but after an agonizing few minutes he sees those beautiful red eyes that he loves so much. They’re wide and unfocused, telling Izuku that Kacchan’s mind is still somewhere far away. “That’s it, Kacchan, just look at me. Look at me and listen to my voice. Just take one deep breath for me, love. You can do it.”
After another agonizing moment, he sees Kacchan’s chest rise and fall in a slightly slower rhythm, and he lets out a shaky laugh. “That’s it, Kacchan, just like that. You’re the best. I need you to keep doing that, okay? I’m not leaving, I promise. He’s not going to hurt you, but I need you to stay here just for three minutes and then I swear I will get you out—”
“Deku no—”
“Three minutes, Kacchan. There are other villains around—You’re so strong, the strongest. Just stay here and take deep breaths just like that for three minutes and I’ll be right back. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but we can’t let the sludge villain and his partner hurt anyone else. We need to stop them, remember?” Izuku tries to play into whatever Kacchan’s seeing inside his head in the hope that it’ll help get through to him. Hopefully it’ll at least stop him from spiraling too badly until he can put this villain away. It hurts like hell to do this, to leave Kacchan like this, but if he doesn’t then things might get so much worse than they already are.
Kacchan still looks panicked, but Izuku reaches forward to squeeze his hand, even though it’s sticky and covered in molasses. For a moment Kacchan is silent, just staring at him with those faraway eyes. But then… “Three minutes,” he says, in a tiny whisper. “Promise.”
Izuku nearly weeps with relief. Fuck, he’s strong, Kacchan is so fucking strong. He’s so proud of him. “Three minutes, Kacchan, I swear. You can even count the seconds, if you need to.”
Izuku sees Kacchan swallow as he takes another shaky breath. His arms are still clawing violently at his body, but his breathing is a tiny bit slower now, and he’s not in danger of hyperventilating. It’ll have to do, because Izuku can see the villain re-entering the room again out of the corner of his eye. “Three minutes, Kacchan. You’re so unbelievably strong, love. You can do this. Just keep breathing slowly. I love you, I love you so much. I promise, you’re going to be okay. You trust me, right?”
Kacchan gives him a tiny nod, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists. Izuku smiles at him, trying to stop the tears and hoping, praying that he’s stable enough to see it. “Okay. Okay Kacchan, just trust me. You know I’ve got your back, just like you’ve got mine. I’ll be back in three minutes.”
He waits for Kacchan’s tiny nod before turning away, somehow managing to do it even though it feels like someone is putting his body through a meat grinder.
Izuku turns back around, towards where this villain and his high-pitched grating laugh is watching them from across the warehouse floor. And as he does, it’s like a switch is suddenly flipped inside his head, and all of that panic and protective instinct and drive to help Kacchan shifts over into sheer righteous fury. How dare he. How dare he hurt Kacchan like this, striking right at the heart of him in a way that makes Izuku want to destroy an entire city block.
The villain is oblivious to the way his emotions are swirling, the way his eyes are glaring daggers at him and his hands clench tightly into fists. He’s just laughing, watching Kacchan on the floor in agony and acting like it’s the funniest joke in the world. Kacchan’s pain is supposed to be private; it’s not supposed to be put on display for the scum of the earth to witness and poke fun at. It’s only supposed to be visible to those he chooses to show it to, not to some asshole villain who pulled a dirty trick. It feels like some sacred line has been crossed as Izuku stares at the man across the room.
“And here I thought Dynamight was supposed to be strong,” he sneers. “What a disappointment. The number 15 hero, and he barely put up a fight. He’s just sitting there sniveling like a little baby.”
Izuku actually growls at the man, baring his teeth in a move so similar to Kacchan that under different circumstances the other would actually laugh at him. He has no idea if Kacchan heard that, but the thought of what he would say if he had spurs Izuku to move, activating One For All and sprinting towards the villain as the man readies himself for a fight. He has no right. No fucking right. Kacchan is anything but a baby—Doesn’t this asshole know how strong you have to be to go through what he has and still be one of the top heroes in the country?
No, he wouldn’t, would he, Izuku muses as he rushes the man. He has no idea how much raw strength and power runs through every cell in Kacchan’s body.
Izuku’s movements are much faster now, spurred on by anger and adrenaline and a desire to get back to Kacchan and snap him out of the hell he’s trapped in. The thought of this guy taking pleasure in Kacchan’s pain—both of their pain, really, because Izuku always hurts when Kacchan does—makes Izuku’s vision tunnel dangerously. His sole focus is on bringing this man down.
And maybe, in his anger, he moves faster, hits harder than he normally would. He’s usually so careful about moderating his output and limiting the damage he does, but this time, when his leg slams into the man’s chest he hears the crack of bones breaking. Izuku barely even registers that he’s moving, but he’s throwing punch after punch and barely even stopping to breathe. He aims a well-placed right cross at the man’s head, just barely managing to reduce One For All so that he doesn’t clear his head clean off his body.
It’s over in a heartbeat, in a moment that lasts an eternity. Not many people can stand up to a pissed-off Deku, and this guy did not do a good job of even trying. Izuku only lets his quirk fade when he’s standing over the man’s unconscious body, taking in the bruises and broken bone or two. Maybe he went a bit overboard, but the man’s snide voice is still reverberating in Izuku’s head, and his brow furrows again. Maybe he’ll find the energy to feel guilty about it, when he gets Kacchan somewhere safe.
Speaking of… Izuku glances around the room, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees Shinso and the sidekicks entering the factory. They can take care of this while he sees to Kacchan. Wait. Kacchan. Shit—They can’t see him when he’s like this. He’ll be so ashamed of himself.
Izuku sprints towards them with the aid of One for All. “Midoriya!” Shinso calls. “Got inside as quick as we could. What’s the situation?”
“Villain is down,” Izuku says, gesturing towards where the man is lying unconscious. But then he reaches for Shinso’s shoulders. “Kacchan is down too. He’s fine– he doesn’t need a medic. But just… Keep everyone away. Let me handle this.”
Shinso raises an eyebrow, opening his mouth like he wants to say something. But then there’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes, and something passes between the two of them silently. Shinso’s known both of them for long enough to know what the look on Izuku’s face means.
“Got it,” Shinso says quietly. “Go make sure he’s safe. I’ve got things here.”
Izuku hugs him. Bless Hitoshi Shinso and his perceptive brain. If he said it out loud, the sidekicks would ask too many questions. “Thanks, Hitoshi,” he says, turning back towards where Kacchan is.
Shinso stops him by calling his name again. “Call me later? Let me know everything’s okay?”
Izuku smiles brightly. Hitoshi likes to pretend that he doesn’t care, but Izuku knows how deeply he loves his friends. He doesn’t really understand how Hitoshi and Kacchan became such good friends, but he’s glad that they did. “Will do.” And a moment later he’s sprinting back towards the other side of the factory floor, the panic rising in his chest yet again. He knows it’s only been a minute or two—much less than the three minutes he promised, but he still hates thinking about what Kacchan’s been going through since he’s been gone.
Kacchan hasn’t moved from where Izuku left him, and his heart pounds against his ribs when he takes stock of the situation. Kacchan’s breaths are coming in short wheezes again, and his hands are clawing at his skin even more forcefully. He’s desperately trying to wipe the molasses off of his upper body. His knees are curled in towards his chest, and his whole body is trembling violently. Izuku’s tears are falling even before he kneels down on the floor in front of him.
Kacchan tenses, seeming to register movement near him even though his eyes are squeezed tightly shut. “Deku. Izuku,” he says, his voice coming out in a tiny whimper that sounds so unlike him it hits Izuku like a punch to the stomach.
Izuku nods, letting out a small noise of his own. God, he hates seeing Kacchan like this, especially when he’s made worse because Midoriya wasn’t able to help him in the moment. He tries to bite down on his own panic for long enough to keep his voice steady and soothing. “It’s me, Kacchan—It’s Izuku. I’m here, love, I’m right here. Three minutes—just like I promised.”
“Deku,” Kacchan whispers. “Off. Get it off. It’s everywhere – can’t move.”
Izuku glances around the room frantically, desperate for anything even vaguely able to help. Kacchan is covered head to toe in this sticky stuff, and Izuku won’t be able to snap him out of this fully until he gets him clean.
“Okay,” Deku says, in a shaky exhale. “I’m gonna get this stuff off you Kacchan, I promise I will.” Shower—Where—Soap, cloth, water, anything—
There. Izuku can see a sign on the far wall for an employee locker room. He doesn’t even know if there’s a shower in there, but he has to try anyway. He doesn’t usually like to move Kacchan while he’s in the throes of one of these episodes, but it doesn’t look like he has much choice. He needs to get the molasses off him as soon as possible. “Alright, Kacchan, I’m going to get you somewhere safe, okay? And then I’m gonna get you out.”
Kacchan’s breath hitches for a moment, before he nods frantically. His arms stop clawing at his chest for long enough to reach for Izuku instead, and Midoriya lets him grab on without complaint. Sometimes Kacchan is overly tactile in moments like these, desperate for something to steady him when he can’t do it himself. Other times he’s more withdrawn, not wanting anyone’s hands on him until he’s fully back in the moment. Today, Izuku’s happy to let Kacchan cling to him as much as he wants, even with the sticky goo that’s soaking the front of his costume.
“That’s it, c’mon Kacchan. You can move—it’s all gonna be okay.” He knows Kacchan can move, but it’ll be quicker if Izuku just carries him instead. “I’m going to pick you up now, okay? I’ve got you, I’ve got you—” He’s rambling now, saying whatever he can think of to calm Kacchan down while he hoists him into his arms. The bulky gauntlets of his costume make it difficult, but Izuku manages with the aid of One For All. He sprints towards the direction of the locker room, thanking whatever god he can think of when he spots a couple bottles of dish soap in the employee break room along the way. He snags them with Blackwhip, before running down the hallway in a hurry, Kacchan’s tiny cries of off me, get him off me, get off please hitting Izuku like bullets.
When he bursts through the locker room door, looking around frantically as Kacchan trembles violently in his arms, he nearly sobs when he spots a large shower stall. It’s big enough to fit both of them, and Izuku steps inside a second later. He doesn’t bother trying to shield himself from the water, simply fumbling blindly for the switch as his eyes scan Kacchan’s face. Izuku shifts Kacchan’s weight as the water washes over him, keeping Kacchan out of the stream until he can set him on his feet. The temperature grows warmer until it’s almost too hot to be comfortable, but Izuku isn’t paying attention to that; his attention is focused solely on Kacchan.
“Kacchan, can you hear me?” Kacchan’s eyes are open, but they’re still unfocused, staring at a point somewhere above Izuku’s head. Midoriya tries to smooth some of his sticky hair out of his eyes to get his attention. “I’m going to put you down now, okay? I need you to stand up for me.”
“Can’t—” Kacchan gasps. “Can’t move.”
“You can, Kacchan. You can. I’m right here, I’m gonna help you. Just stand up for me, okay?” He keeps rambling, mumbling nonsense as the water drenches the both of them. It takes a couple of minutes, but eventually he sets Kacchan on his feet, his arm around his waist to help support his weight. His legs are wobbling slightly, but he’s mostly standing on his own.
Okay. Progress. The water is already warming the molasses, so that some of it drips off of Kacchan’s body and down the drain. Izuku thinks for a moment, before slowly removing the bulky gauntlets and gloves from Kacchan’s wrists and tossing them outside. They’re ruined anyway, and having his hands free will hopefully help Kacchan come back to the present a little more quickly. That faraway look is still in Kacchan’s eyes, but he seems slightly steadier than he was when he was trembling on the ground. Izuku had the foresight to grab the rag from the factory floor before they came in here, and he reaches for it now, along with the soap.
Keep talking, Izuku. Kacchan starts to tremble again as Izuku gets to work, wetting the washcloth and scrubbing at the places where the molasses is thickest. “Kacchan. I’m gonna touch you, okay? It’s just me—I’m getting this stuff off you. Talk to me, baby. Where are you?” Izuku keeps his voice low, so as not to startle him, but it’s tough to be heard over the rush of water.
“Alley,” Kacchan gasps, and Izuku’s grateful that Kacchan’s mind is at least clear enough to hear him. “Fire—Sludge—Deku.” He squeezes his eyes shut, like he’s trying to block out whatever is inside his head.
“I know, Kacchan,” Izuku says, his voice soft. “I know you’re scared, but you’re strong, you’re so strong, baby. I need you to come back to me, okay? We’re in the candy factory. We were fighting that villain with Shinso, and you got hit—“
“No—There’s sludge all over me—“
“Just focus on my voice, Kacchan, just focus on me. Can you look at me?” Izuku is still dragging the makeshift washcloth over Kacchan’s skin, watching the molasses start to drip down the drain. By now he’s coated in the stuff himself, but he doesn’t care. He’s completely focused on his boyfriend. “C’mon love, just open your eyes for me. Your eyes are so pretty, Kacchan, I wanna see them. Just look at me. I promise he can’t hurt you while I’m here.”
It takes a minute or two, and a few more gentle prods from Izuku, but eventually Kacchan does manage to open his eyes. Izuku smiles brightly when he sees the ruby red irises, cupping Kacchan’s face with both hands and dragging the washcloth gently across Kacchan’s cheeks. “That’s it, Kacchan. That’s it, you’re doing so well. That’s just my hands- I’m cleaning the molasses off your face. I need you to tell me five things you can see, okay?” Izuku knows Kacchan’s grounding process like clockwork by now, but he hasn’t had a flashback this violent in a very long time. He’s already running through multiple plan B’s inside his head.
Kacchan shakes his head. “Can’t—“
Kacchan’s breathing starts to pick up again, and Izuku feels the lump in his throat get bigger as his tears begin to mix with the hot water. “Yes you can, Kacchan. I know you can do it. Just three then—tell me three things you can see, love.”
Kacchan swallows, reaching for Izuku’s bicep again. He’s silent for one agonizing moment, but then— “Green,” he gasps.
Izuku beams. “Yup, that’s me, Kacchan, I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere. Tell me one more, baby. Just one more, you can do it.”
He looks down. “My…hand,” he gasps. “Freckles. Red belt. White… wall. Deku.”
Izuku’s smile gets even wider as tears trail down his face. Kacchan’s amazing. “That’s amazing, Kacchan. That was perfect, you’re perfect. Now four that you can feel, you can do it.”
Kacchan cringes. “Sticky,” he gasps. “Deku—“
“Shhh,” Izuku says. “That’s not the sludge villain, I promise, Kacchan. You fell into a vat of molasses. Don’t think about it—tell me something else. Can you feel this? Can you feel my hand?” Izuku drags his finger across Kacchan’s bottom lip, and after a moment, he nods. “That’s great love, now can you tell me three more?”
Katsuki can’t. He can’t tell him three more. He’s hanging on by a thread as it is; the sludge is suffocating him and he can’t move—
He’s so damn weak; he spent so much time working on this, trying to understand what’s wrong with him so that he can beat this but apparently it was all for nothing.
“You’re not weak, Kacchan. There’s nothing wrong with you, nothing at all. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met and I love you so much. You can do it. I just need you to take deep breaths.”
Deku. Deku’s voice cuts through the haze of memory that he’s drifting through. Was Katsuki saying all that out loud? He’s stuck somewhere between past and present, half inside a memory and half in the moment, and he focuses all his energy on Deku’s voice to pull him in one direction. Izuku sounds so upset, and Katsuki hates it when Deku’s upset. It makes him feel like the asshole kid he used to be whenever he makes Deku upset.
Three things you can feel, come on asshole, this is simple shit—
Deku’s still talking, and Katsuki can feel a thick something scrubbing at his skin, wiping the sludge away. That’s right—Deku said he was cleaning him up. He thinks for a moment, trying to look past the sticky substance coating his skin. He can see Deku’s face in front of him, and he’s smiling even as he cries. Katsuki doesn’t like making Deku cry.
He thinks harder, trying to kickstart his brain back into gear so he can drag himself back to the present. It occurs to him that he must be getting more lucid, if he’s starting to remember that he’s dissociating. C’mon you giant dick, three things you can feel. “Warm,” he whispers, after a moment. He is warm; in fact, if he looks past all the sludge his body is almost burning hot. His arm reaches forward, towards Deku’s face, and he can feel the water hitting his skin. “Wet.” His arm travels upwards into Deku’s hair. “Deku.”
Izuku’s smile grows, and some small part of Katsuki inches forward at the sight. He wants to come back, wants to see Deku smile and stop the tears falling down his face. He wants to stop thinking about the sludge trying to claw its way inside him. Deku says something, walking him through the rest of the exercise with that wobbly smile and shaky voice. Katsuki latches onto that, focusing on that bright grin and those brilliant green eyes that always seem to see the best in him when he’s at his worst.
And after a few minutes, after Deku repeats the entire process once more and Katsuki hesitantly says that he can taste something grossly sweet in a breathy voice, he finally, finally drags himself mostly back to the present. He can still feel the… whatever it is, coating his body, but he doesn’t feel so goddamn trapped anymore, and he feels like he can breathe clearly again. The sludge villain’s voice fades into the background, and feeling starts to return to his limbs.
He’s silent for a moment, just staring wide-eyed at Deku’s smile as he feels the scrape of something against his arm. He can see the same sticky substance all over Deku’s torso, but instead of thick green sludge, it’s a murky brown color. Nothing like the sludge villain. And the water is washing some of it away; that definitely didn’t happen back then.
Katsuki swallows when he feels strong enough to speak. “Deku?” He cringes at how small his voice sounds, but Deku only reaches for him, waiting with a raised eyebrow until Katsuki hesitantly nods that he can touch. Deku drags him forward so that he can rest his head on Izuku’s shoulder. His hands drag up and down Katsuki’s sticky biceps.
“Kacchan,” Izuku says, in a shaky exhale. “I’m here. You’re okay. You’re okay, I promise. Do you know where we are?”
Katsuki blinks back the tears burning in his eyes, focusing on the way the warm water feels against his back and the way Deku’s hands feel on his arms. He remembers earlier, the two of them entering the building and getting split up by— “Candy factory,” Katsuki mumbles. “Villain. Shinso, sidekicks…” He cringes. “Falling. Are we… in a shower?”
Deku squeezes him tightly. “Yeah, that’s right, Kacchan. You got knocked into a tank of molasses and got yourself out, ‘cuz you’re amazing. You had a flashback—a bad one. But it’s over now. It’s over.”
Katsuki feels the tears coming. He hates flashbacks, especially ones as violent as this. It’s been a long time since he’s had one, and as he starts to feel the aftereffects he realizes just how tired he is. He’s still shaking, and his limbs ache. He wants to go to sleep but he’s still so fucking sticky. The molasses still feels like sludge, and his skin prickles where the substance is the thickest. “Deku,” Katsuki starts, but his voice dies on the rest of the words. I’m sorry. I’m fucked up.
But Izuku seems to know what he’s going to say, because he drags his head up to look him in the eye. “Nope. Don’t do that, okay? You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve helped me through so many moments like this.”
“But—“ He’s weak. He’s so weak, and now everyone knows it.
“No buts,” Deku says, in a serious voice. “I meant it— you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. I told you ages ago—you’re my symbol of victory, remember? This doesn’t change that, and it never has. I’m so proud of you, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I love you so much.”
Katsuki lets out a shaky sigh, stepping closer to Deku and resting his sticky forehead against Izuku’s. Deku presses a tiny kiss against the tip of his nose, whispering that he loves him once more. He feels something tighten in his gut, his arms winding around Deku’s waist as his legs continue to wobble. For a moment, he just stands there, letting the warm water wash over him and feeling Deku’s heartbeat against his chest. And he focuses on taking deep breaths, running through a meditative breathing pattern inside his head as Deku quietly does the same out loud. His heart is still beating fast, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tries to gulp down air, and he needs to calm the fuck down. The tears that he’s trying to push down stubbornly leak from his eyes, and his breath is hitching with tiny sobs.
“Love you,” Katsuki mumbles, through the tears. It’s such a simple statement, to cover everything he’s feeling right now. He’s so fucking grateful that Deku’s so patient with him at times like this.
“I love you too, Kacchan. It’s all okay. You can let it out if you want to—whatever you need. I’m not going anywhere. We’re both going to stay here until we get cleaned up.”
Katsuki frowns. They still have a job to do here. “The villain—“
“Shinso and the sidekicks are taking care of it,” Izuku says, in a tone that has no room for arguments. “Just relax, Kacchan. Lemme take care of you for a little while. I want to help you feel better.” Deku keeps his voice soft, using that soothing tone he usually reserves for more private, intimate moments. It shouldn’t make the tears come faster, shouldn’t make Katsuki’s resolve crumble the way it does. But Deku sounds so sincere, so willing to do whatever Katsuki needs in this moment, and Katsuki feels himself splintering apart under the force of all that affection. He used to hate it, but now that he knows it doesn’t mean Deku’s looking down on him, Katsuki secretly loves letting Deku smother him in love and kindness whenever he thinks Katsuki needs it.
He clutches Deku close, pressing his sticky chest against Izuku’s and covering them both in molasses in the process. But Deku doesn’t seem to mind; he lets Katsuki cling to him, calmly running a washcloth up and down his back and letting Katsuki cry into his neck. Deku’s rubbing soap into his stiff muscles now, scrubbing at his skin and massaging the tension away in the process as Katsuki cracks under the strain of his own stupid emotions. Deku lets it happen, standing ready and willing to pick up the pieces the way he always does. He mumbles sweet words into Katsuki’s ear—that he’s here, that Katsuki’s so strong, that he loves him so much and that Katsuki’s safe here.
The flashback's over now, but the emotions linger; the terror is still there in the background, along with the feeling of being trapped so completely. Those feelings plus the sheer relief of not being back there again make the tears come anyway, even though the worst is past. Deku shushes him when he mutters that he's being stupid, softly mumbling that Katsuki can do whatever he needs to do to feel okay again. It... helps. Deku's body pressed against his helps- it gives him something warm and comforting to ground him. Deku's words help, the tiny affirmations mending his wounded pride and his battered psyche at the same time. The gentle pressure against his back, where Deku is washing off the molasses, helps. Deku helps. Deku always helps; Katsuki would be so fucking lost without him.
Katsuki doesn’t know how much time passes before the tiny sobs taper off, before he can pull back and look Deku in the eye without feeling like his legs are about to give out beneath him. But Deku gives him a brilliant, happy smile when he does, saying Katsuki’s name with so much raw adoration that it nearly makes him weep again. “Are you okay?” Deku asks. “How do you feel?”
Katsuki cringes, wiping at his eyes to clear the mix of tears, molasses and water. “Kind of gross,” he croaks out, his voice hoarse from screaming and now crying.
Deku chuckles quietly, his fingers grabbing onto the front of Katsuki’s costume. “A bunch of the molasses seems to have come off by now, but we’ll probably be sticky for a while.”
Katsuki swallows. “I’m—“
“Don’t apologize,” Deku says, in that same quiet voice. “I don’t mind. Do you feel okay enough to get out? We can go straight home—I’ll tell the sidekicks to hold the fort for the rest of the day.”
Katsuki’s brow furrows. He knows he’s not trapped back there and covered in sludge anymore, but he’s still… unsteady, in a way he rarely is these days. He feels safe right here, in this tiny little bubble with Deku, but he doesn’t particularly want to face the rest of the world yet.
Deku must see something on his face, because he nods, kissing his lips lightly. “Okay,” he mumbles. “We can stay here until you’re ready, Kacchan.” And Katsuki melts again, feeling the tension drain out of him in one wave as he nods. He doesn’t have the words to tell Deku how grateful he is, so he tries to say it with his eyes and his hands instead. One hand finds Deku’s as Izuku tilts his face up, gently scrubbing away the molasses with the cloth. It’s surprisingly nice, when coupled with Deku’s voice, softly rambling on and on about nothing the way he often does to calm Katsuki down.
Katsuki loses track of time again while Izuku scrubs away the sticky substance from his skin. They might spend hours here, tucked away from the outside world, before Katsuki squeezes Deku’s hand lightly. He’s spent enough time being pampered, letting the flashback fade into the recesses of his memory. He thinks he feels okay enough to act normally again.
“Thank you,” Katsuki says, his voice matching Deku’s volume. He’s still not great at accepting help, but he’s been trying so hard to get better at letting Izuku know that his affections are appreciated. “We should go. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—“
Deku just shakes his head, his hand finding the back of Katsuki’s sticky neck to drag him into a soft kiss. “You don’t have to thank me for this, Kacchan. You know that,” Deku mumbles against his mouth. “Taking care of you like this is a privilege, and I’m so happy I get to do it.”
There he goes again, being sappy and affectionate and making Katsuki’s heart beat faster than it has any right to. He feels a little steadier on his feet now, but as much as he hates to admit it, he doesn’t want to face the rest of the world at the moment. He just wants to stay with Deku, in their little world where nothing else matters except the two of them. When they were younger, this kind of treatment would have been stifling, to the point where he would have run away. But now, he feels so fucking small, and all he wants to do is hold onto it, hold onto Deku for as long as possible.
Katsuki swallows. “Can we… Can we go home?” he asks, in a low voice. Part of him hates how childish he sounds, but Deku keeps telling him that it’s alright to admit when he’s not okay. “I just—“
Deku nods before he even finishes the thought. “Anything you want, Kacchan,” he says, turning the water off. “We can pick this up in our own shower. We’re both covered in this stuff,” he says, laughing.
Katsuki manages a small smile when he gets out of the shower stall, and Deku looks at him like the sun just came out inside this damn factory. He’s still sticky and gross and trembling slightly, but Deku doesn’t let go of his hand the entire journey home. Deku steers him away from anyone who might ask too many questions, and Katsuki feels another wave of affection for the nerd course through him. It warms his heart, that Deku’s determined to protect his pride at times like this.
Thankfully their apartment isn’t too far from where they are now, and it’s not too cold out, so the molasses doesn’t have time to fully harden. Now that the flashback is a little further from his mind, Katsuki can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing is. He’s going to be scrubbing molasses out of his hair for weeks. Deku squeezes his hand when he says that out loud, mumbling something sappy about how happy he is to see Kacchan starting to be himself again. It makes Katsuki blush as they finally make it back home.
Katsuki feels the exhaustion kicking in as he drags his feet through their apartment. These flashbacks always, always take a lot out of him, leaving him spent and winded and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep. Deku knows this, and he’s always so willing to take care of him when he’s like this that sometimes it makes Katsuki feel like he’s burdening him. Deku’s always quick to shut down that train of thought, though.
Now, Deku’s arm wraps around his sticky waist after he ditches his own gloves. His hands are gentle as they help Katsuki out of his hero costume, undressing them both slowly when he sees that Katsuki’s too lethargic to move around a lot. Deku starts the shower, before turning back to Katsuki, helping him out of the last of his clothes and guiding him under the hot water.
It’s nothing like the other times they’ve showered together. Sometimes they’ve stumbled into the bathroom in a frenzy, trading steamy kisses and blazing caresses and sharing scorching moments under the steam. Other times their showers are just that— taken simultaneously because they simply like sharing each other’s space and trading casual banter together.
But today it’s simply about comfort, about Katsuki letting himself be comforted when he’s always been so reluctant to accept it. It’s about trusting Deku enough to let him see when he breaks, when he cries again because the lingering emotions are overwhelming him. Izuku just holds him under the hot water, telling Katsuki how strong he is and that he’s proud of him and that he loves him over and over again. Katsuki’s verbal filter is entirely pushed down by exhaustion at this point, so he just soaks up the praise with a tiny whine.
Deku scrubs and scrubs until his wrists must ache, but he’s got that determined look in his eye that means he’s not going to give up until his task is done. He presses tiny kisses against Katsuki’s face as he goes, cleaning every inch of Katsuki’s skin in an effort to make him as comfortable as possible. Katsuki’s heart swells so much he’s practically swooning, and he resolves to spend a long time pampering Deku the same way the next time he’s given the chance.
Katsuki lets Deku shampoo his hair four separate times, and Izuku stubbornly shakes his head when he tries to protest. He’s so relaxed by this point that his limbs feel like noodles, and the sludge villain is far, far away from his thoughts by now. Katsuki tries to help Deku clean up too, rubbing soap into his abs when he sees stray flecks of sticky molasses, but Izuku gently pulls his hands away.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says, giving Katsuki that brilliant smile again. “I want you to relax. I said I would take care of you, remember?” Katsuki doesn’t know what he ever did to deserve a partner like this, especially after the messy childhood they had.
They eventually make it out of the shower, and Deku ushers him under the blankets and ignores his weak protests. Katsuki’s basically resolved to let Deku pamper him by this point, but he still has his pride. He wouldn’t be Katsuki if he didn’t insist over and over again that he’s fine, even when he clearly isn’t. Then again, Deku’s seen right through him for so long now that he’s become an expert at taking care of him in moments like these.
Izuku glances towards the kitchen, chewing on his bottom lip like he’s debating making food or tea, but he seems to think better of it a moment later and gets under the blanket instead. When Katsuki raises an eyebrow, Deku just gives him a tiny smile. “Don’t wanna leave you alone. We’re gonna take a nap and then I’ll make you something to eat,” he says, kissing Katsuki’s forehead. Katsuki nearly weeps again as those words wash over him. He’s still so used to people assuming that he’s fine, that he’s alright dealing with this shit on his own. And he is—he doesn’t need people treating him like a child. But just because he can deal with his problems on his own doesn’t mean that he wants to.
When they’re both settled together under warm blankets, Katsuki chews on his bottom lip. He still feels kind of gross and sticky, but he doesn’t complain, even though he probably should. He should probably sleep on the couch so they don’t have to wash these sheets twice, but Deku tucks him against his side before he can move. Katsuki’s head rests on Izuku’s left pectoral, and Deku is carding his fingers through his damp hair.
“How are you feeling?” Deku asks quietly.
Katsuki feels a lump settle in his throat as Izuku kisses his forehead. “Better,” he whispers.
Deku beams. “That’s great, Kacchan. I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m… really sorry that happened today. I’m really sorry you had to relive it all again.”
Katsuki hums, burrowing in closer to Deku’s side. Years ago, those apologies would have made him angry, but he knows now that Deku wouldn’t be Deku if he didn’t worry all the time. If he wasn’t intensely empathetic when it comes to the people he loves.
Part of him still feels bad that Izuku had to take care of him like this. Old habits die hard, he can’t help but think. “You didn’t have to do all this,” Katsuki says quietly. He clumsily reaches for Deku’s hands, putting tiny points of pressure on his wrists. He must be in a lot of pain from how hard he was scrubbing, especially with his achy joints. Katsuki starts massaging the muscles there, trying to silently pay Izuku back for his efforts.
Deku is silent for a moment, before his fingers find his chin and tilt his head upwards. He reaches for Katsuki’s hands next, gently prying them away from his wrists and twining their fingers together. When Katsuki’s eyes meet Izuku’s, the latter’s are shining, even though he’s smiling. “I know. But I wanted to.” Deku’s smile grows even wider. “You’re my partner and I love you. Taking care of you is a privilege, Kacchan—I told you before.”
Katsuki swallows, nuzzling into Deku’s neck to cover up how much his stomach is flipping. “Fuckin’ sap. How the hell do you just say shit like that?”
Deku kisses the top of his head. “Because it’s true,” he says, laughing. “Making you happy makes me happy.” He says it like he’s describing the most mundane fact in existence, like it’s a simple, obvious statement instead of the sickly sweet burst of sentiment that washes over Katsuki like pure warmth. Katsuki squeezes Deku so tightly that he’s surprised the other can still breathe. He wishes he had the words that Deku does, but he’s always been better with action.
But dammit, Deku deserves to hear this, so he takes a deep breath. Just tell him how you feel, idiot. Grow the fuck up. “I love you,” Katsuki says, letting out a shaky sigh. “I don’t know where I’d be without you. I wouldn’t have… been okay, today. If you—If you hadn’t been there. You always call me amazing, but you’re just… so much more than that.”
Deku practically attacks him with kisses when he finishes speaking, and Katsuki can’t help the way he blushes. He really loves Deku’s kisses. “You’re gonna make me cry, Kacchan,” Izuku says, laughing as he speaks. “I love you so, so much.” It’s a moot point; Deku’s already crying. But Katsuki chooses not to mention it, because he’d much rather keep kissing Deku instead.
The rest of the day passes them by, as Deku practically buries Katsuki with affection for hours. He lets Katsuki sleep, and afterwards, he makes Katsuki’s favorite spicy noodles and his favorite jasmine tea. And eventually, Katsuki talks, when Deku gently pushes him to confront all of his emotions to the extent that he can. Even though it feels like pulling teeth to do it, he does wind up feeling more relaxed after he does. Small victory for his therapist, he supposes.
When he finally falls asleep later in the evening, he feels like he has an extra blanket on top of him that’s made of pure light. He never thought he’d be lucky enough to have someone who loves him this much— so much that it feels like a warm fireplace is constantly burning. But Deku is always so fucking patient with him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. And when Katsuki does finally drift off, he’s not thinking about the sludge villain, or bad memories, or molasses. He’s thinking about Deku. He’s thinking about how lucky he is and how unbelievably fucking grateful he is that this idiot’s heart is so goddamn big.
Someday, he’ll figure out how to be half the person Deku is, and he’ll hopefully be able to return the favor.