what is a hero? (BxB)

Chapter 21 A Letter

***I hope you're all doing alright, I know not many of you comment but from the views of the chapters I know you guys are reading. It means alot that people are enjoying this story, especially if you're still reading up to this point. I was really nervous about writing this one and publishing it on Wattpad, I had no idea if anyone would be interested in something like this that's a lot more plot heavy than my last story. But there dose at least seem to be a few of you that like it and that means everything to me. Anyway sorry for gushing, you may proceed to the chapter and I'll be seeing you all next week <3***

Kona finished patching me up and then I had no reason to say there anymore. I found myself wanting to stay, both because I didn't want to see my dad yet and because I wanted to know more. I was glad I met Kona and actually got to see just who Z was. Maybe if I tried listening for Z when I do my night... thing, whatever you want to call it, I'd run into her again? I mean, what if she had any abilities like me? So far I haven't known of anyone else who did, it would be kind of nice to have someone I could ask about it to. Not that I've ever really cared to much about the how or why I'm like this, but having someone that understands... would be nice.

The walk home was peaceful and my body was still sore but I didn't run into any trouble. I didn't have the energy to use my abilities so I was lucky because if I didn't run into a problem I wasn't sure how well I was going to deal with it. Kona had offered to call Z back so she could escort me home but I told her I was fine. Despite my injuries making it seem otherwise, I usually can take care of my self.

I climbed up the firescape and made my way into my room through my window, trying to be as quiet as possible. I just wanted to go to bed, pass out, and get up to go to class tomorrow with uncle Mike. Even though school has its own set off oddities, it was distracting from everything else in a way that I appreciated.

Once I was in my room I striped off the new shirt and pants I was lent, tossing them onto the beanbag chair I had in the corner. I sat in it when I needed some time to just breath, if I leave the window open during the spring sometimes birds would perch themselves there if I put some seeds on the window sill. I miss spring.

I let my self fall back on my bed, my arms flopping down next to me. The covers were cold on the exposed parts of my back weren't covered by my binder or my boxers. It stung a bit to just let my patched up arm fall against my bed but it wasn't to bad since the bandage was relatively tight. I stared at my ceiling for a bit, the moonlight coming in from my window cut a strip of light across my ceiling and down the corner of my room.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. My stomach was still in knots, I didn't know if my dad would still be home tomorrow. I knew I would have to deal with this at some point but I wanted to put it off for at least a little bit. I needed to figure out what I wanted to say. Part of me felt guilty for the way I reacted, and the other part of me was mad for felling guilty at all. I should be able to just feel how I feel without questioning if what he said was bad enough for me to feel like this.

I've gotten used to people calling me Sai and using the right pronouns for me. I'm allowed to be upset that after finally saying what I needed and getting what I needed, I was suddenly brought back to when thing's weren't how they were supposed to be, just because he hasn't caught up yet. Fuck. I know that this is probably something that's hard for him too but fuck, it's been hard for me for years so... fuck. God damn it. Why dose any of this even have to be a thing?

I don't need to be reminded that I'm trans for fucks sake, I know that shit. I really wish everyone's memory of how they thought I was would just vanish from there minds. That way when they see me they don't even think of using a different name or pronoun because it's not an option. I mean it's not an option now ether but sometimes people don't understand that.

I rolled onto my side, my eyes falling onto a piece of paper that was on my night stand. I don't remember that being there. I didn't know what it was but I found my self toying with the decision of whether or not I should check. It was folded and from here I could see from the part that was sticking up that there was writing on the inside. I don't know how long I lied there for before my hand finally snatched the paper off the nightstand. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of my bed. I held the folded piece of paper with my fingers, my thumbs resting on its surface. I sat there, just looking at it. I had a feeling it might be from my dad, though if my uncle was home he might have overheard from his room and written me something.

The floor was cold against my feet and with having left the window open a crack a small cold breeze came through, sending goosebumps running up my body. I took a breath, closed my eyes and opened it, just staying like that for a moment before opening my eyes. It was my dad's handwriting.

"Hey kid, I know I messed up your name. It's hard to suddenly use a different name for you when I've been calling you-" I grabbed a pen and scratched out the name he had written, I couldn't stand seeing it right now. "for your whole life. I'm going to try but you need to understand that it's hard for me too. I love you kid, I hope when you get home you're feeling better."

I crumpled the paper in my hand on impulse once I had finished reading it. Fuck. I know his intentions are good but, I don't know if I feel better or worse after reading that. I threw the paper against the wall, defiantly harder than I should have considering the sound it made. I really just liked screwing myself over didn't I? Hopefully it wasn't loud enough to wake up my dad or my uncle.

I wanted to sleep forever, but just for a while, if that makes sense. I got under my covers, knowing I was just delaying the inevitable. With having just read my dead name, I was feeling to dysphoric to take off my binder just yet. It was tight and my ribs were aching since I wore it all day, but I didn't care. To go from felling seen to felling unseen for the first time in a long time sucks. I moved to lying on my back, lying on my sides was putting to much pressure on my ribs that were already not happy with me. I wanted to just... sleep like this.