●~Not All There Anymore |REWRITTEN|~●

|1| How Much Misery Can Misery Take?

"I want my mom! Give her back!" Izuku pulled against the grip, forcing the green skinned man to hold him tighter. "Give her back! Let me go with Mom!"

"I promise you'll see her, kid. I promise," the man remained calm the entire time, despite Izuku's struggles and shouting. When the doctors disappeared from sight down the stairs, Izuku finally slumped and lowered his head. The officer sighed in relief and stood up from his crouched position, grasping Izuku's shoulder. "Come on, kid. I'm gonna drive you to the hospital, okay? We'll be right behind the ambulance the entire time."

Izuku numbly nodded and allowed the man to steer him toward the door, down the stairs and to a police car. Izuku felt detached from reality as panicked grief turned to detached shock, making his mind sound like white noise and static. Izuku breathed heavily as the scene replayed in his head; his mother, the pills. His mother, the pills. Over and over and over again.

Izuku let himself be steered into the backseat of the police car, his mind instinctively blocking out the sirens of both the car and the ambulance. All he could see and head was his mother and his own screams. Why did she do it? Was it even on purpose? When was Izuku so happy to be home again? Could he have that feeling back?

The thudding in his ears worsened as a pained headache formed, digging into Izuku's mind and forcing out anything that wasn't pain, grief, or shock.

Izuku nearly fell asleep as he stared off into space, thoughts banging around his brain as he only half listened to them. He felt dehydrated and his nose was stuffy, his voice watery and thick. His throat was sore and his eyes were sticky, yet he didn't seem to even try to notice.

Izuku half registered their arrival at the hospital, the ambulance approaching the emergency room and the police car pulling up to the normal entrance. He felt his throat tighten up as the officer and him reached the entrance, exposing the tear stained faces and grief stricken expressions in the waiting room.

Izuku suddenly felt sick. He was usually the one in the hospital, not the waiting room. He almost wanted to throw up at the thought that this might have been what other people went through every time he got hurt.

Izuku plopped down in a chair, staring at the floor. It was a tiled pattern, tan and peach. Izuku began counting the peach ones, mumbling the numbers under his breath to keep himself distracted. The officer sat down next to Izuku, holding out a bottle of water. Izuku hadn't noticed the man had left.

Izuku hesitantly took the water and simply held it, staring down at the floor. The man slowly screwed the cap off, to which Izuku finally took a small sip.

"So, kid," the man started, smiling kindly, "Is it okay that I ask a few questions? I know that you're upset, but this is so we can fix everything, alright?" Izuku numbly nodded, blinking. The officer smile and took out a small notebook. "So, what's your name and age, and what's your mom's name and age."

"Izuku Midoriya, sixteen. Inko Midoriya, around thirty-eight." Izuku replied shortly. The officer nodded and scribbled it all down.

"Do you have any family members that we should call? Father, grandparents, aunts or uncles?" Izuku shook his head. He could call Auntie Mitsuki, but she technically wasn't his real aunt, and Izuku didn't really want her or Kacchan here right now. "Alright. Serious questions, are you okay with that?"

Izuku nodded again and took a small sip of water, knowing his throat was parched but refusing to do anything about it. The man cleared his throat. "Alright, so how did you find your mother?" Izuku answered truthfully and shortly, explaining that he had just walked in and found her sprawled out on the bed, an open bottle of medication pills nearby. The officer ensued with more questions, all of which Izuku answered to the best of his ability before he got tired.