What's this? An update a day early?! Well, I honestly felt kind of bad for leaving you guys with that last chapter, so consider this my (shitty) peace offering.
I also must say that Wattpad is awesome. My original platform was Fanfiction.net, but they've been excessively mean/rude over there. I mean, come on, if you don't like where the story's going, then just leave. You don't have to leave a comment stating that my story is 'too much' or 'jumping the shark' and that you're out. I mean, I've got feelings, too, you know. *pouts*
Chapter 10: Pain
Izuku was numb with fear and pain. He may have been the only one without injuries, but it didn't seem to matter, now. His mother was dead. His mother was gone. Murdered... tortured to death by his stupid biological father who'd shown up out of nowhere for some reason Izuku couldn't comprehend.
It'd been hours. They couldn't even reach her to close her eyes. Her stare seemed to mock Izuku, reminding him that her death was his fault, somehow. Her screams still rang in his ears.
Shouta tried to keep him from looking at her, but he caught Shouta himself staring on more than one occasion. They were both in shock. They were both grieving. But Shouta, at least, was trying to help Izuku somehow. Izuku couldn't figure out how to return that favor to his father figure.
Neither of them slept, but eventually the footsteps returned. The two stiffened, and Shouta's arms wrapped tightly around him. Izuku felt safer in Shouta's arms, even though logically, he knew that Hisashi could still take him from Shouta with little-to-no effort.
Hisashi opened the door and came downstairs with a large garbage bag. Izuku's stomach revolted, and it was all he could do to keep from vomiting as he roughly shoved his mother (that's my mom! Give her back! She doesn't deserve this!) into the bag and dragged her slowly up the stairs. Every thunk of her hitting the steps made his heart twist painfully.
As soon as Hisashi closed the door behind himself, Izuku was on his feet, shuffling away from Shouta as quickly as he could before emptying the pathetic contents of his stomach. The hero looked about a minute away from the action himself, but Izuku thought that it could also be a result from the concussion. The man could barely stand, as it was.
After he was done, he shakily returned to his dad, because he's all I've got left. The thought made his throat close up with tears.
"Shh... I'm here, Zuzu, I'm here... Dad's here." Shouta held him in his arms and rocked him gently. The motion actually managed to calm him a little, and he concentrated on listening to his dad's heartbeat—physical proof that he wasn't alone.
Izuku startled badly when the hinges of the door screamed. He must've fallen asleep in Shouta's arms. The hero still held him protectively, and he could feel his arms tighten as Hisashi approached the two with a sickening grin.
"Now, Inko was... uncooperative. Perhaps you'll be able to answer my questions?"
Neither of them answered, waiting with baited breath for the man to drop the question that killed his mother.
"Where can I find All for One?"
"All for... what?" Izuku blinked. He'd never heard of such a thing before. Was it a weapon? A person?
"He's a myth." Shouta glared.
"Oh, no. The proof of his existence is right here, after all." He smiled at Izuku, and said boy felt like a piece of meat beneath his gaze. "But that's beside the point, for now." He shook his head. "I'll get my answers in due time. I'm a patient man, after all. What I'm more interested in, at the moment, is your Quirk, Izuku."
Izuku bit his tongue. He almost snapped at him not to call him by his given name, but he felt Shouta tighten his grip in warning. He knew that would be a bad call.
"What about it?" Izuku answered carefully, after he realized the man was waiting for an answer.
"What is it? Because according to your medical files, you don't have one. But no son of mine could possibly be born Quirkless." He grinned, leaning forward. "That means you're hiding it." Izuku felt Shouta tense, as if to strike, but he quickly pinched his arm, dissuading him of the action. He had a feeling it would be another bad move.
Izuku opened his mouth to say something, to lie and say he had an analysis Quirk or something, but found the usual endless stream of verbal vomit that he spouted every day to be nonexistent. He closed his mouth; unable to think of anything to say that would be deemed safe enough in this situation.
"Well... I suppose I'll just have to... force it out of you, then."
"You will leave him be." Shouta's voice was hard and cold, and Izuku felt a shiver run down his spine hearing him speak that way.
"Don't worry, dad of the year." Hisashi snarled. "I won't leave you out of the fun. Why not join us?" His lips twisted into a sickening mockery of a smirk.
Hisashi—how Izuku loathed that this monster's name was so close to the only other man he'd ever think of as a father—pulled at the base Shouta's chains, causing the hero to grunt in pain as he hit the ground.
Hisashi dragged him out of Izuku's reach. The moment Shouta's warm hand was torn from his own cold clammy one, he nearly found himself blind with panic. He couldn't lose Shouta, too. He would rather die.
"DAD!" He called out, reaching a hand out desperately as Hisashi pulled Shouta up the stairs by his hair, just like he had his mother yesterday... the day she died.
For several minutes—hours?—his harsh, ragged, panicked breathing was the only sound in the suddenly too-big room. He was alone. Shouta was gone. He was gone and Izuku was alone and nobody was there and—
The door opened again, and Izuku nearly recoiled as the man returned alone. "Your turn."
Izuku didn't fight the man's tight painful grasp on his hair as much as he probably should have, but if he took him to Shouta, then that would be okay. As long as he was with Shouta, everything would be okay.
He roughly dragged him up the stairs, and Izuku was blinded by the sudden flood of light. Hisashi didn't stop though, and they turned left, walked for a ways and then stopped at another door.
Izuku felt his vision adjusting as they came into what looked like a straight-up torture chamber. Maces, swords, whips and chains adorned the walls of the room, with a small twin-sized bed shoved into the corner. One metal chair was bolted to the floor, cuffs bolted into the armrests.
On the other side of the room was a set of traditional chains and cuffs (the kind that you hung someone from, so they were forced to stand), and Izuku let out a breath of relief when he saw a very alive Shouta chained up, gagged with a dirty cloth.
He made eye contact, and Shouta couldn't hide his fear. He was terrified, for Izuku.
"I'm going to give you a choice, boy." Hisashi snarled, bringing Izuku's petrified face mere inches from his own. "And you'd better damn well appreciate it. At your word, I will put that so-called dad of yours in my torture chair instead of you." He grinned and Izuku felt his insides turn to ice. This didn't feel real.
Izuku saw Shouta give him a resolute nod—he was trying to tell Izuku to agree. To torture Shouta instead of him. But Izuku couldn't. He would never be able to live with himself if he did such a thing. Instead, he glared at Hisashi, and spoke in the boldest voice he could manage.
"I would never want him in that chair. Y-you can tor-torture me, but don't you dare touch my dad!" It came out much more aggressive than he thought he was capable of, and he saw Shouta pale in horror at his words.
A moment later, a sharp pain had his head whipped to the side. Hisashi had slapped him.
"Very well. Then let's add a condition to this torture, shall we?" The man gave Izuku a twisted smile. "If you scream, even once... even a half-scream... You sacrifice him to the chair instead."
Izuku felt his heart drop before a well of determination burned inside of him, hotter than the flames of hell. "I won't scream." He stated, pushing as much of his determination into his voice as he could.
Shouta looked like he was ready to have a panic attack (or maybe he was already having one) as Hisashi roughly restrained a struggling Izuku into the metal chair.
"We'll just see about that."
Izuku felt the dried blood on the inside of the cuffs flake off as they were tightened down on him. This is where mom died. He realized abruptly. This view of these weapons and this monster's twisted face made up the last moments of his mother's life. That understanding made him want to cry. But he couldn't afford that, now. Not when he had to be brave. He couldn't scream. He had to do this.
Today, he would be Shouta's hero.
Hisashi grinned as he inserted a needle into Izuku's skin. "My special Serum. I used too much yesterday, and your dear mother's heart gave out—I'd forgotten about her... weakened physical health. Don't worry. I've lessened the dosage this time. You should survive."
The pain wasn't slow. It didn't build. It started with a fierce burn that ran up his arm and overtook his entire body in seconds. He couldn't feel anything but the pain. His vision cracked and it took every ounce of self-control to keep his vocal cords quiet.
He thrashed, not even feeling the harsh metal of the cuffs cutting into his wrists and ankles. He didn't feel the way his back arced as liquid fire burned through his veins. He would later be grateful for the cushioned headrest of the chair that prevented him from adding a concussion to the list of injuries he was receiving. The concussion might've loosened his tongue.
Time melted away, stopping in the face of his agony. Izuku had never felt pain like this before. It was indescribable, ten times worse that that stupid Third Year's Quirk, and he forced himself not to give into it.
Don't scream. A flash of Shouta's petrified face, pale and shaking. Don't scream. Hizashi's bright smile as he gave Shouta a welcome home kiss... the thought of how devastated he'd be if Shouta never came home. Don't scream. The image of Shouta laying in a hospital bed after a rough night on patrol, a worried Hizashi, Nemuri, and Inko trading off as they kept him company around the clock. Don't scream. Images of happy times with his family flashed through his mind. Don't scream. He couldn't break that. He couldn't kill Shouta. Don't scream...
After an indiscernible amount of time, Izuku felt the pain start to ebb away. His vision changed from white to color as shapes started becoming recognizable again. Muffled sounds filtered through his ears, but he couldn't make sense of it. Don't scream. His brain felt like mush and his body was numb, and tingly, and cold and it ached. Every muscle spasm felt like a thousand tiny needles prickling his skin. Don't scream. He couldn't form coherent thoughts, and his jaw ached from clenching his mouth shut so tightly for so long. He probably had a chipped tooth, too. Don't scream.
He locked eyes with familiar black—Shouta. The hero's eyes were dilated in fear. He was pale and shaking and there were honest-to-god tears running down his face. He looked so desperate. Don't scream.
He felt a fist grip his hair as the shackles were removed from his bloody wrists and ankles. The hand in his hair was too hot, like there was lava burning beneath the skin, and the sudden movement made his body seize in agony. Don't scream. Hisashi had an intrigued expression on his face, and Izuku couldn't for the life of him understand what he said. Don't scream. The only words that held meaning anymore. His mantra. Nothing else mattered. Don't scream. Protect Dad. Don't scream.
He felt shackles tighten around his wrists again, and a sharp panic overtook him. Don't scream!
Then, gentle arms wrapped around him. He looked up into Shouta's tearstained face. The darkness wrapped around them like a blanket, telling Izuku that Hisashi was gone.
He opened his mouth, whispering fearfully. "D-did I scream?" His throat hurt, like talking was physically difficult. Perhaps it was.
Shouta gave him a watery smile. "No. You didn't scream, Zuzu." He cradled Izuku in those warm, safe arms.
"I'm glad... Dad... W-was I your hero today?" The hero choked back a sob, burying his face in Izuku's hair as he quietly cried.
"Y-yes. My Little Hero."
Izuku finally let himself succumb to the darkness, a soft smile on his face. I didn't scream.