"And Always, Sweet Dreams."

"If I Stay."

Please read with caution after the part where Todoroki is no longer conscious.

Todoroki's POV

The moment I woke up, I was knocked down by a horrible feeling of nausea rolling about in my throat and stomach. I felt hot and feverish – sweat was most definitely dampening my clothes and making them stick uncomfortably to my skin, and every breath was laborious and painful. Through the heaviness in my eyelids, I managed to pry them open just enough to catch a glimpse of light peeking through the bottom of a door, but couldn't keep my eyes open for longer than a few seconds, and ended up closing them again from dizziness.

There was the sting of bile coming up my throat, as well as a metallic taste in my mouth, and when I gaged and turned my head to the side, the most unbearable pain erupted from my arm, and for a moment, while flashed underneath my eyelids and my breathing began more ragged. There was a hand in my hair – a soft, gentle touch that matched the hands from some faraway and forgotten memory – and for a moment, I considered that I wasn't lying on the floor in an unfamiliar room, and that I was actually hallucinating and was delirious enough to not recognize that I was back in the dorms at UA.

But I knew I wasn't.

I stiffened almost instantly once I had gained enough of my bearings, and struggled to remember where I was or how I got here. It was dark in the room, and despite the pain and cramps that were irritating every joint in my body, the futon that I was lying on was soft, and so was the pillow under my head. I really wanted to just sleep – to blackout and not have to deal with the situation I was in, but no matter how bad I wished unconsciousness to overcome me, it didn't, and I was left to bathe in the uncomfortable heat radiating from my skin.

I was sick – I at least knew that for sure – and I also came to the conclusion that the person caring for me probably wasn't going to harm me yet, which helped me relax only slightly. I was scared, so there was no way the tension was going to leave my shoulders anytime soon, even though the tightness was hurting my neck and making my body cramp even more. It was a little bit difficult to breathe with my chest feeling as tight as it did, and the clamminess of my skin was definitely not helping, and for a moment I felt like I wanted to cry, because I was so, so tired, and I desperately wanted Izuku.

I really needed Izuku.

We had just met face to face for the first time in so long, and yet we were pulled apart again, and now I'm not even sure when or if I'll see him again. I haven't touched – haven't kissed him in so long, and I miss him. I miss him so bad that it hurts.

Please, I just need to be with my Izuku.

At some point tears had begun to well up in my eyes, and soft sniffs were escaping my nose. I was so sad and angry, mostly hurt and sad, though, and desperately just wanted to be free.

To be free of what? Well, I don't know.

The person behind me shifted, and the hand in my hair stilled for a moment before it left, and I was shocked when something soft and ticklish touched my face, and when I managed to focus on the object, I was slightly taken aback when I discovered that it was a tissue. I reached out and grabbed it, stopping myself at the last second from saying thank you to the person, and pressed it to my eyes and nose. At least with the wetness on my face slightly gone, I felt a little bit calmer.

The person caring for me still didn't speak, and the silence had sparked a dangerous curiosity within me. I had two options: I could either turn and face the person now and demand answers about this situation, or I could just lie like this, and not do anything. In my current state, despite the nag in the back of my mind telling me to turn and look, I didn't want to move, and favoured the second option over the first. Whoever was behind me could wait, because right now, and for the first time in a while, I'm putting myself before the need to see to others. It gave me a rebellious feeling.

I flicked the tissue away from my face, one end of it catching on my nose and making it tickle for a second before I successfully threw it away beside me. It didn't go far, of course, because it was so flimsy, and because I was too weak to flick my wrist with much force. I couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed for long, though, because the person had reached across me and had taken the tissue from where it had landed.

A flash of slim figures and purple made me tense almost instantly, and I inhaled sharply while suddenly sitting up. My mind was a blur of thoughts and my vision was filled with different dark shaded colours. There was a blue – the light turquoise of my father's eyes – no, of Dabi's eyes – and with the sudden shift in gravity, I was hurling before I even managed to move away. There was the familiar burning rising in my throat and a horrible churning in my stomach, and the scarred hand was back in my vision, but this time with a bucket. I gaged over the bucket, bile and saliva dripping from my mouth, but I was too starved to give up any more fluid, and collapsed backwards the moment the twisting in my stomach calmed slightly.

I was sweaty and sticky – something that was common when I had a high fever – and the pain in my head wasn't leaving anytime soon. I was leaning heavily against the person's chest now, my vision swimming in and out of focus, and felt heat overcome my body. It was hot – probably hotter than what was good for me – and I was growing more nauseous and dizzy by the second.

I leaned to the side, promptly going limp in the person's – Dabi's arms – and for the slightest moment, I felt an odd sense of safety, and the nostalgia that came with a hidden memory of a different life.

For a moment, I opened my eyes and glanced upwards, and saw a flash of silver hair and my mother's strained but loving smile. I reached out to her, wanting to touch her and be with her so desperately, but my hand met open air, and the smoky figure of my mother disappeared. With her absence came a white noise and a sense of loss, and a cold stone settled in the bottom of my stomach as my arm fell, and landed beside me.

I felt the gentle touch of someone pressing their palm to my cheek, and then I promptly passed out.

While sinking into the warm abyss of unrestful sleep, an image kept flickering in my mind. There was a small girl, clad in winter clothes and big blue rain boots, wearing a grey beanie that just barely showed her silver hair flowing from the fabric. She was small and energetic – bouncing from puddle to puddle and laughing in a high pitched squeal. She was happy, something that looked great on her clear skin and gorgeous smile, and her eyes – her eyes were just as pure as winter's first snow. She turned to me, her eyes catching mine for a second, and gave me the toothiest and most adorable grin that I had ever seen. And then, in a blur of movement, she was right in front of me, and was grasping onto the ends of my coat.

"This was my happiest moment, Shouto!" she beamed, and my heart dropped as I recognized the voice. "If I stay here, I'll be happy forever!"

My eyes widened, shocked at the smaller figure below me, but as I reached out to her, the scenery changed, and I was suddenly in a white room far away from the small girl. The small girl, who was now staring directly at me with a kind smile, and a knife to her throat.

Panic flared through me, and I rushed forward, reaching out to her. "Mum!"

But as the blade pierced porcelain skin, everything white was now stained red.

"Mum!"

Among the red, the only thing that remained clear was her silver eyes.

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