Just a little crazy (finished)

chapter 55

tw- mention of violence, flash backs, grief, sad boi hours

"No! c-come back please! Don't- don't leave-"

"Shhh," wiping the tears of Eri's face as she thrashes, I go to sit down next to her, flinching at the whimpers and cries.

"Deku!"

"Deku!" looking down at the small girl who had wrapped her arms around my legs, ignoring the bones in my body that there snapping back into place with a painful efficiency, I cant even manage a smile, frowning in confusion.

How is she so happy? How stupid is she?

No.

No she's not stupid, and if the shaking of her body is anything to go by she's not happy either.

She's terrified.

"Hey there little bug..."

Kneeling down to her height, face straight as my right wing collapse causing my shoulder blade to pop out at an angle I didn't think possible, I wipe the tears off her face, watching as she gives me a small smile.

I don't want to be the one to ruin that smile...

"i-I saw you on the news... papa said that you and nii-san would be okay but- but you're hurt! And-and where's nii-san..? Is he with Mr.demon?"

No, he's under a pile of rubble with a smashed skull.

"No..." I look up, catching a glimpse of Hizashi collapsing into his husbands arms, a random officer in front of them.

"Nii-san... he... he loves you so much Eri, and he'll always be with you... but- he..."

Stop. Stop crying. You don't get to cry, not now, not here. So stop.

"He's... he's with mummy and daddy, isn't he."

"I'm here, don't worry, im right here..." holding her close I get under the covers of her small bed and pretend not to notice Aziwa moving away from the doorway.

"Go to sleep baby, both Shinso and I are looking over you..."

...

"Did you get any sleep last night?" looking over my shoulder as Hizashi and Aizawa walk into the kitchen, both looking as if they spent the night crying- a likely situation.

"Doesn't matter, here." Handing them their coffee as well as some toast I ignore the looks given to me, smiling softly at their thanks and directing them to the table so they can finally eat. It's been a week and I don't think I've seen them eat more than scraps of dinner.

"How's your wing?" turning back around to start on the dishes I consider the question.

I could tell the truth, that unlike the rest of my body it still hasn't healed, that I cant bring it out without feeling a pain like no other and that a joint has half the wing bending in a way that shouldn't be possible. They'd take me to the hospital again and demand the best care, they'd sit by my bed and hold my hand as the doctors go over the many things wrong with the appendage all while telling me that I'm not a burden.

But their hearts are beating so fast, they're worried, they're tired, they don't need anything more on their plate and they certainly don't need to be back at that hospital.

"What do you mean we can't see him? He's our son!" blinking away the heaviness in my eyes I sit up, recognising the harsh bed sheets as the ones the hospitals use.

It hurts to move, but I still tried, cringing as I pull myself up. that is until I was pulled right back down, drawing out a startled and confused whine.