Chapter Text
The first thing he hears are the sobs.
It makes Izuku want to turn around and leave, or to rush in and hug his mother, all at once, and either way there's a gnawing abyss of teeth-talons-dread-he'smessedup-he'shurther in his chest, pooling against his spine in grasping fingers (like Shigaraki's-) and freezing him in place. He- he doesn't want to go in.
But his Mama is crying, and Izuku is nothing if not a hero, so he pushes that away (it lingers, aches, writhes-) and moves to unlock the front door, bracing himself for the sight of her tears. He doesn't brace himself enough, apparently, because he nearly whimpers when the door crashes upon, bouncing against the genkan wall, and he's faced directly with his sobbing mother, her face scrunched up, tears pouring from shadowed eyes, and Izuku can already feel guilt torrenting in his chest. She's upset. He hurt her. Just like always, he's hurt her, and there's nothing he can do about it.
"Izuku, you- I'm so glad you're home." He half-smiles in return, shuffling his feet,
"Uhm, h-hi Mum." All at once, her expression shifts, smoothing out around the mouth, creasing further on the brow. She almost looks angry, but she isn't, surely-
"You- That's all you can say, after today?" Oh, she is angry. But she still seems more upset than anything else and, well, Izuku can't really blame her. He must have worried her a lot.
"Wha- No! No, I'm sorry, Mum, I just- I just didn't know what to say." The anger seems to rise up in her then, eyes flashing behind the tears. (Something in Izuku whimpers, cringes, cowers away-)
"How about sorry?" she demands, righteous indignation colouring her tone in sweeping reds and greys,
"You worried me half to death, today! I fainted, Izuku, because I had to watch you be so reckless, and then I had a call from your school that I missed and you had a surgery!" His chest is full of an avalanche, all ice and sharp rocks, absolute guilt-dread-horror.
"I- I needed it!" It's not the right defence, but it's the first thing that occurs to his panicked mind, and it does him no good at all.
"Because you destroyed your hands with a Quirk! Izuku, you need to be careful! You've always gotten hurt so easily, you know you have-" He can't help how he flinches back at that, because he never got hurt easily, people just targeted him, and fighting back would only get him in more trouble, and he was the Deku, but, still, he never asked to be their victim. He never wanted his scars.
"-and you've been putting yourself in so much danger, even more than you used to, and it was bad enough when you were provoking the other children but to be actively throwing yourself into fights with people so much more powerful than you-"
"What? Mum, I never-" The words are unbidden, a low, hurt sort of hiss, tugged violently across his tongue in a way that he never intended, yet he can't help it. Not when she's saying things like that.
"No, Izuku, don't pretend you don't. You always used to upset the other children, and I had to patch you up time and again, and now you've had to have a surgery and I wasn't there-" If he wanted to cry before, now it's only the sight of her own tears and jerking, angry hands that keep him from bursting out into tears of his own. (Instead, he is scared, he is heart-aching, because he has upset his mother before with things like this, and it's always his fault, but never before has she seemed so fully and completely and uncontrollably frenzied over it.)
"But it was fine," Izuku insists instead, trying to calm everything down at least a little,
"Recovery Girl is really good, and she's certified to act in an urgent situation, so-"
"They should have asked me, Izuku! You had a surgery!" She isn't wrong, except also she is, and Izuku doesn't want to upset her even more but this really isn't UA's fault, not any of it. Izuku is the one who broke his own bones for the sake of trying to make Todoroki realise the blessings of his Quirk, even if his circumstances aren't ideal to match. Izuku is the one who has caused this fight.
(He just wanted to come home, maybe get a hug, and go to bed, to sleep until dinner or maybe even right through until breakfast the next day. He didn't want a fight, didn't want his mama upset, didn't want to feel so guilty-)
"They- They tried to ring you!" He knows that to keep on arguing like this is a bad idea, however he doesn't have anything better to do either, so argue it is:
"But- but you didn't pick up the phone, Mum, and they have Loco Parentis and if it hadn't been done then the bone fragments could have moved and cut into veins or nerves or- or-" He drags in a judder-sharp breath,
"I'm really sorry, Mama, I- They did their best. Recovery Girl had a licensed surgeon conferencing with her and everything and the bots so it- it was safe." It's true. All of it's true. That doesn't mean that it's enough to appease her like he had hoped, judging by the way her hands tighten into fists, the ends of her hair starting to raise. Her Quirk must be flaring. (Her temper must be too-)
"No! No, Izuku, no! Don't you see, none of that matters! I'm your mother, I need to make these decisions for you, I need to be the one who does that because you're my baby boy and you need me and-"
"Mama-" (He's scared, honestly. He- She's been upset with him before, angry about his wounds and weakness, scared for him, worried about him, controlling of him, but never before has it been this bad. Has he been this scared-)
"No! Be quiet, Izuku, and let me speak!"
He bites his lip, falters, and can't help how he cringes into himself. He hates when she gets all upset like this, and he knows it's his own fault, but still. He doesn't want to be the reason she's so distressed.
"You hurt me today! You hurt me a lot, and I'm your mother but you still worry me all the time, put yourself in situations where you get hurt, knowing that it will hurt me, and today- Oh, Izuku, today was just so awful! How could you?"
"Mama, I tried my best," he protests, insists, pleads,
"I was just trying-"
"You were trying to get hurt, weren't you? To worry me-"
"No!" How could she even think that? He loves his Mama, he loves her so much, he just can't help who he is. How he is.
"Do not argue with me! I know you better than you know, Izuku, and I know you're misguided, but this is too far-"
Izuku is nearly crying, but he doesn't want to let himself actually sob because his mother is still crying and that's too many of them. And it would probably just upset her more either way.
So, instead, he sniffles, and he reaches out for her wrist, careful, gentle, as he apologises,
"I'm sorry, Mama." She jerks her hand away though, out of his aching reach, her glare only flaring fiercer,
"Are you really, Izuku? Because you say that every single time you get yourself hurt, but nothing changes! You still hurt me!"
"Mama, please, I really am-"
She freezes, eyes narrowing, and her tears finally seem to dry up a little. Or at least slow down. A long sniff heralds her clutching her arms around herself, clearly meant to try and soothe herself, rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet. Her hair is a mess, her face blotchy, and Izuku... Izuku feels awful.
(Not only that, but there's something like a gleam to her eyes, something beyond fear and distress. It seems... almost mean. Almost vindictive. Izuku must be wrong. He must be-)
"Leave."
The world seems to freeze around him, and Izuku's heart twist-twinges in his chest, stuttering, spasming, because he can't even begin to process that-
"What- Mama, I-"
"Go, Izuku." He can scarcely breathe, scarcely think. Scarcely hear her awful words.
"I- I can't look at you right now- look at your hands! I just can't- I can't-"
"But, Mama, please, I- I can just go to my room or something, can't I? That- that used to be okay?" He knows he sounds desperate, but he can't really help it, because he's exhausted, so very tired, and his hands are nigh-on spasming in the lingering agony of their scars and bandages, bone-deep, rich in sharp pain, and he just-
"Just leave, Izuku, please. I'll let you know when I can bear to look at you again."
"Please, Mama, please-"
"No! Please, please, I can't- I need you to go, now-"
Izuku can't help how his tears start to overflow then, because he can't even begin to comprehend this, to truly understand the fact that his Mum is actually, what, kicking him out of the house? He-
There's something tugging at his bag strap, something else at his sleeve, and it isn't enough to have him falling over or anything, but he stumbles backwards until he's in the doorframe, reaching out for her because she's his Mama, surely she can't actually mean it. She's just hurt, isn't she? He upset her, and she doesn't know how to handle it, and she's lashing out. That's all it is. If he just says the right thing...
There's a final tug on his bag, strong enough to have him tripping backwards, and he reaches out, tries to get ahold of the doorframe to catch himself, except the door is slamming shut too.
He feels the snap as much as he hears it, although by 'it' he means no less than three awful, horrific cracks that shudder all the way through him, the door bouncing back open again already. Izuku is barely able to retract his hand, clutching it to his chest, before the door is shoved closed yet again, this time able to click fully shut. The lock audibly turns.
Oh. He- His Mum just locked him out, didn't she?
Izuku really isn't sure what to do. His hand is broken again, he thinks (he knows it, with how it shatter-aches, with how he cannot move his fingers, how his chest is hitching with tears and hard-won breaths that don't so much as half fill his lungs-), and he doesn't exactly have anyone else he can go to. The closest he has is Auntie Mitsuki and Uncle Masaru, but Kacchan will be there, and they'll ask questions he doesn't want to answer. (Auntie Mitsuki was In- Mum's friend before his Auntie, so surely she would believe her over him. Izuku can't go to her, not like this. Not for this.)
He has his phone and wallet with him at least, even if he doesn't have two usable hands. There's probably somebody he could ring, he hopes. He really isn't sure who, but, well, worst ways maybe he could ask to stay with Uraraka? Actually, no. He couldn't burden her like that. And it might make her uncomfortable, which Izuku very much doesn't want. He's already pushed his Mum away (she pushed him though, didn't she? but it was Izuku's fault, so-), he can't afford to push his friends away too.
Izuku starts walking without really thinking about it, even though each step sends a fresh jolt of pain right through him, hand throbbing in double-time with his heart.
He doesn't change anything, doesn't do anything (can't-), just blinks back tears as he walks along.
His feet start to sink at some point, in a way that doesn't make sense until the salt-sharp chill of the air on his wet cheeks registers, the granular grate of sand slipping into his shoes, leaving Izuku to realise that he is at the beach. Dagobah beach. (Here, he found a new sort of home. Of acceptance. It was in wide-grinned teasing, 'Prince of Nonsense', in affectionate, careful hands upon his shoulder or hair, of a declaration of faith in his heroicism, his progress, his... his golden heart. Izuku has never been sure how much he believed All Might, in Toshinori, but he has always believed in the man's earnestness. His sincerity. So even if Izuku hadn't been able to think the words true, he had been able to revel in Toshinori's faith in him.
Maybe it wasn't deserved though. Maybe Toshinori was wrong, and Izuku is really the selfless little boy his Mama sees him as-)
His knees are wet.
The sea is oh-so cold right now, which makes sense because twilight is descending, a veil of shadows that seeps into the dark, moon-frothed waves that are too indistinct in his tear-blurred vision for anything coherent, to distinguish sea from sky or heart from mind, truth from lie. He's alone, that much he knows for sure. Izuku... Izuku isn't sure he knows anything other than that, now. (He's always been alone in a way, hasn't he? That has never changed, truly. But now even his Mama doesn't want him, and he doesn't know what to do with that. Doesn't know what to do with himself. He is so very, very lonely.)
The next wave laps further up his legs, seeping along his shins rather than just soaking his knees, and it pulls Izuku further back into the ricocheting pain that echoes back-forth-worse-again through him, back into his own heart and mind and body. The present. He- he's cold, shivering, probably in shock; he needs medical attention, even he can admit that, because he had surgery on the same hand that got shut in a door who knows how long before. It hurts. It hurts very, very much; he doesn't know how to make it stop hurting.
Eventually, though it takes more strength than he knows how to have, Izuku pushes back to stumbling feet, pain and anguish and give-way sand nearly sending him tumbling, but he settles himself, steadies as best he can, before staggering back and away to the revetments, slumping against the angled concrete wall with an ache and shudder, a grunt bursting against his lips.
He doesn't know what to do.
Maybe- Maybe he could call somebody. Maybe his Mum is regretting sending him away, or she was testing him, and he shouldn't have wandered off? He probably should have just waited for her to let him back in. Talk about being a stupid Deku.
Pulling his phone out of his bag is more difficult than it probably has any right to be, but it's hard to pull at the zip without bracing it against his other hand. Still, he manages to get it out, and flicks open his phone app, trying to ignore the sour realisation that he only has five numbers in his history, and one of them is the local library.
He tries the landline rather than his Mum's mobile number, because she's more likely to pick it up without checking the number, and he still isn't sure if she actually wants to talk to him right now-
She doesn't pick up the phone. He lets the dial tone ring and ring until it finally stops of its own accord, just in case she's left the landline in the kitchen again, but his call doesn't get accepted. He swipes straight down to her mobile. It doesn't get picked up. The landline again. It gets denied within two breaths.
She doesn't want to talk to him, then.
That... that's alright. He doesn't want to disturb her, or upset her anymore. She's had too much of him. Or, well, he is too much for her.
But what if she's hurt? What if she isn't okay? Maybe she didn't pick up the phone because she's hurt, or was attacked, or if she cried so much that she fainted again. She might be-
He is calling Toshinori before he even really realises or thinks about it. Izuku doesn't have words, barely has coherence, and his words are already slipping apart in his mind, too soon to reach his tongue, to cross his lips, but then the dial tone snaps away to reveal a worried voice. A kind voice.
Izuku is crying again before he can sob out a single full, jagged breath.