Frailty /Depressed! Deku x Bakugou/

Chapter 11

Opening his eyes, the first thing Izuku heard was his mom talking to someone over the phone. It came muffled, for the most part… He wasn't sure how long he'd been out cold; but from how his body felt, which wasn't too sore, he could tell it hadn't been long.

The smell of vomit was still there, but no signs of it… bringing his hands to his head, he noticed he wasn't wearing his zip-up. Shit, my arms… she saw! Dammit!

His body snapped forward, of course the black spots wouldn't leave him alone. He stood still with the support of the sink by his side and immediately ran to where his mom's voice was coming from soon after.

"—stand, Aizawa-San. I do wish you'd told me sooner… I know I can be overprotective at times but still… yes— you too, Sensei. Goodnight."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

"M-Mom—"

"We're going to the hospital."

It wasn't a request, it was a demand. She wasn't asking anymore. Shit, I don't wanna go to the fucking hospital but I can't bring myself to say anything.

.

.

.

"Who stitched your arm up.. this one right here?" The doctor asks, holding Izuku's left arm to inspect it, and it wasn't looking too good.

He couldn't utter a single word since they'd left the apartment. "Midoriya-Kun?" The doctor asked again, looking over to his mom with a concerned face for an answer, "It was probably Recovery Girl, the nurse at UA—"

"I did." It was a simple answer that cut the elder woman off, "And when was this..?"

"Last year… while I was working with Endeavor and the others. Didn't have the time to see RG, there were more people who needed her, so I just did it myself."

Taking the doctor's silence, Izuku continued, "I sterilized it, with rubbing alcohol… It still got infected but I was fine after a day or two."

"Was it self-inflicted as well? Like the others?"

Izuku just nodded, not looking at his mom, not even a tiny glance.

"Alright… Midoriya-San, there's nothing else I can do other than determine Izuku is malnourished and that his lungs aren't like they used to be. I'll be paging a psychiatrist colleague of mine, they'll see you soon I'm sure. And Midoriya-Kun, cut back on the smoking the best you can, you are a hero in training after all."

Izuku nods, getting up and heading to the door without looking up and waiting for his mom who thanks the doctor. He can't help but be annoyed and overthrown.

'They're trying to take control of everything, I can't stand it. I'm in control of this one thing, just one..! Is that too much to ask?'

As Izuku keeps walking, following the signs that lead to the psych ward, he feels his mom's hand taking a grip of his injured arm.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

It was like any other time he'd confronted his mom of her 'overprotective' behavior and the attitude she had with him. He didn't wanna deal with this. It was hopeless.

He paused for a moment, again, remembering how it was her ignorance that lead to Aizawa and RG finding out. He breathed out, pulling his arm away before he spoke.

"I tried, mom. You just wouldn't listen..! I'm not arguing over this here, let's just go see that psychiatrist and go home. I'm tied."

That's when they found themselves in the psych ward.

"Midoriya? Midoriya-Kun? The doctor will see you now, Midoriya-San you're welcome in as well."

Izuku got up, head uneven, I just want to go home. And sleep.

"I'll just go in, you can stay here mo—"

"I have the right to know what my son has been doing behind my back. I'm coming inside as well, Izuku. Rather you like it or not."

And just like that, Izuku found himself sitting face to face with his mom next to the desk of this psychiatrist he was forced to see.

"What brings you here today, Izuku-kun?" The doctor asked; a middle aged woman, desk messy, haired tied in a low bun, eyebags with orange irises, 'A mental quirk, night shift, married; two kids huh… wearing the wrong jacket for her size so her younger kid isn't even a toddler… this woman won't get off my ass.' Izuku evaluated as he spaced out, staring at her golden wedding band.

"I am in fact married, Izuku-kun. And yes, unfortunately I've got the wrong hours to work for my profession."

Izuku's cheeks flushed a bright red from embarrassment. 'Was I mumbling again!?'

"I can assure you that you weren't. My quirk is mind reading. Not too common for this day and age. You on the other hand… I'm guessing you have a mental quirk as well, perhaps deduction? Analysis?"

"N-No… I've got a— hey! What gives, you probably already know my quirk… So why ask?" He questioned, The damn world knew who he was and what kind of a burden he carried with this stupid quirk—

"I want to hear you say it, I suppose,"

Izuku's mom looks at her lap. Slightly shifting, her bangs splashed across her face, hair down. 'I'm doing it again, I'm worrying her… shit- wait she can read my mind.! Please don't tell her anything, doc!' The woman smiles, giving Izuku the reassurance he needs and continues.

"Well?"

"My quirk is One for All.. I guess you know the rest." He answers, "Must be quite the burden to bear." Izuku nods without his words, knowing exactly what she's talking about.

"So, I'll ask it again: what brings you here?"

"He passed out after throwing up his guts today and had a tantrum before that, says he's smoking now, I can't even recognize him anymore and he won't talk to me. I don't know what is wrong with my baby boy. So I brought him here.” Inko answers the question this time, voice shaky. Izuku could see her eyes swelling with tears, he sighed.

“Izuku, why do you think your mother brought you here?”

“Because she ‘can’t recognize me anymore and I’m ‘throwing tantrums’. If you ask me, I don’t need to be here. It’s stupid.” Izuku replied, doing air quotes with his hands and looking the doctor dead in the eyes. “Why do you think it’s stupid? You don’t believe in psychology?”

“No. No, that’s not it. I was trying to say she’s exaggerating- hance it’s irrational, not stupid.”

“Alright… If you’d give me a chance I’d like to talk to you alone. Midoriya-San, could you give us a bit of time?” The doctor asks and Izuku’s mom nods, leaving the room and closing the door gently behind her.

“Now then, tell me why do you insist on denying something is wrong? You have been engaging in extreme self destructive behavior; starving yourself, smoking your mind out, cutting yourself… So again I ask you: Why don't you accept that something isn’t right?”

“Because I have to be perfect..!”