Can't Escape (Depressed Izuku x Bakugou)

Flashbacks

TRIGGER WARNING! 

Deku pov

I wake up in a dark room, covered in sweat. I sit up, shaking my head from side to side, looking for something. Not just something. Anything. 

I start tearing up, feeling stuck in the darkness. My chest tightens as I step out of bed. I tip toe on the squeaky floor, the floorboards creaking under my weight. I flinch each time it squeaks, trying to be the quietest I can be without upsetting...him.

A bloodcurdling scream interrupts my concentration, my balance wavering for a moment. I feel myself tense. 

Mom.

I forget my earlier carefulness, running out of the room and down the hall. I swing the door to my parent's bedroom open, my breath hitching when I see the sight.

Blood stained walls. My father snickering sadistically. An unfamiliar woman standing next to father, knives and tools in her hand. A bucket full of...something laying next to-

"Mom!", I scream. I rush towards her, but immediately step back from the blade that is suddenly pointed at my neck. I whimper, my face pale. "Take one more step, and you're organs are next.", father growls. My...organs. 

My eyes spot the inside of the bucket, causing me to double down in nausea and throw up everything my stomach had in store.

Organs. A heart. A liver. A kidney. A stomach. Every possible organ except for the brain. 

My eyes land on my limp, bloody mother, her skin torn and cut. Her eyes stay on the ceiling, dilated and glazed over. I feel my hand grasp my chest, my breathing somehow cut off. 

I can't...I can't...I CAN'T

I fall to the floor, gasping for air. Each gulp of oxygen I swallow feels denied. I can't seem to breath. My vision get's hazy, black spots soon clouding my vision. 

I see is the woman kissing my father on the cheek, handing him back the tools and picking up the bucket. 

The last thing I hear is, "These will sell for a lot on the black market.", and a door closing.

~~~~

"Worthless! Brat! Slut! Fa***t!", my new mother screamed. Each snap of the whip on my back stung and burned. I sat in a fetal position, my hands cradling my head. I apologizes, over and over again, feeling my back bleed. 

I hear my father cackle, recording with an evil glint in his eyes. The whip came down on my back, causing me to cry out in pain. Tears flow from my eyes, my throat raw from screaming. My head throbs from sobbing. My eyes are swollen and red, dried out and tired. 

The whip slashes my back again, drawing blood. My eyelids begin to feel heavy, my head clouding with thoughts, hate and sadness. 

I just feel...empty. I need someone. Anyone. Please...

~~~~

I tap the snooze button on my alarm, slowly getting out of bed. I step into the bathroom and look myself in the mirror. 

Ugly. 

Fat.

Worthless.

I open my drawer in search of some sort of relief. I grab a blade, sighing. I run the sharp metal across my already immensely scarred arm. I bite my lip, the stinging sensation bringing small tears to my eyes.

I slash my arm, over and over again, unaware of the mess I've made.

Once I've had my fill, I look around the room. Blood is splattered all over the floor, more running down my arm. I cover my mouth, trying to prevent the bile rising from my throat. I drop to my knees, letting go of the resistance I had built up, throwing up until my stomach was empty. 

It was like this almost everyday since...she died. I rub my tired eyes while I attempt to stand up. I wrap my arms in bandages after cleaning my recent cuts. 

I stumble back to my room, grabbing my uniform from my dresser. I slip in on, careful of my scars and whip marks. 

I step down the stairs, the floorboards slightly squeaking. Once I make it to the first floor, I make a wild dash for the door. 

As I'm just about to dash out of the house, I feel my arm being pulled backward. I stumble backwards, landing on my back. I feel my arms being pulled back and my face being slapped. "So you really think you can just escape? Hah.", father spits. 

I tremble in his grip as I feel his hand come across my face again. "Sit. Don't go anywhere or you're dead.", he threatens. I nod my head and squeak out a comply. He smirks and kicks my knees. I whimper and clench my jaw. 

He comes back with a belt, rope, a knife, liquor and a few beer bottles. I knew the drill. "Turn around.", he demands. I slowly turn around, only to be whipped. I cry out. "Faster.", he growls. "Yes, sir.", I say. 

"Strip." "Yes, sir." "Good."

Once I'm fully unclothed, I prepare myself for what's to come. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a knife in one of his hands and a bottle of liquor in the other, ready to pour on my back. I see the knife slash down, and then-

I wake up, gasping for air. I see a panicked Kacchan next to me, holding my hand and running his hands through my hair. He smiles warmly, trying to comfort me. His hand free's the damp hair from my sweaty forehead. 

I squeeze his hand, tears building up in my eyes. I let out a choked sob. Using the strength I have, I sit up and hug Kacchan, letting hot tears stream down my face. My body convulses as each sob wracks through my body. 

"It's okay. I'm here.", Kacchan comforts. "Shhhh, it's alright now. I've got you. You're safe."

I sob my heart out, letting my emotions spill out of me. Salty tears make their way to my chin, falling onto the floor. 

So, I'm pretty proud of this chapter! Sure, it took longer than expected, but I think it turned out alright! Please don't forget to take care of yourself. Again, I am always here to talk if you need it. Love y'all sm!