Chapter 12: Recovery
Hizashi paced as he listened to the ringing on the phone. He was so relieved that they finally found them. Nemuri and Hizashi had been driving themselves to madness following every lead, no matter how small. It still took them an entire week to find them, though, and while it could've been a lot longer, he was shaken by just how much damage was done in such a short amount of time.
Inko's death hit them hard. Nemuri was actually crying in her room right now (they were at Shouta and Hizashi's house, which had two extra rooms—one for Nemuri and one for Izuku), and Hizashi didn't have the heart to look at her crushed face right now. She'd been closer to Inko than either himself or Shouta, despite having less time to get to know the amazing woman.
Losing a friend wasn't uncommon in the world of Heroes. Hizashi had lost many friends to his profession. But Inko had been a civilian, someone who was supposed to be safe and protected. She hadn't signed up for this. And while he didn't know the circumstances of her death, he knew it was bad when Izuku and Shouta had flinched.
And speaking of the two... They were currently in Izuku's bedroom. The door was open, in case they wanted to come out, but Hizashi couldn't help but notice how they clung to each other. He knew what that was, had seen it in many of his rescued victims—trauma bonding. And it could be nasty if it wasn't addressed properly.
He'd have to help them work through it. It broke his heart to see Izuku flinch at any unexpected touch or fast movement. To see him so injured, though nothing seemed life threatening. Those shadows in his eyes made him want to cry—this was a kid not a pro! He shouldn't be looking for escape routes the moment he entered a room! He shouldn't have to eye every item like a plausible weapon of self-defense!
And Shouta... Hizashi hadn't expected Shouta's state to be so bad. He didn't seem to have too many injuries—other than his wrists and an untreated concussion, from what he could see, at least—but his mental state wasn't good.
He knew his husband, and could read even his smallest movements. So when Shouta twitched whenever he or Nemuri got too close to Izuku, he knew Shouta was fighting the urge to shield the kid. His overprotectiveness of Izuku made his heart shatter. What had that monster done to Izuku that made Shouta like this?
He remembered when he'd first found that horrid basement in the abandoned house at the edge of town. How Shouta's crazed eyes had glared at him with an obscene amount of hate, and how his breath had caught in his throat because he didn't recognize him. Shouta had been so terrified that he'd been unable to recognize him. And Izuku had been cowering—whimpering—on the ground behind him, and Shouta had bared his teeth—and had those been fangs?—like an animal, growling. He'd looked absolutely feral, and that utterly horrified Hizashi.
He'd never seen Shouta like that. Ever. And he'd seen him after some very nasty missions. But even that one time that Shouta had temporarily lost nearly all his memories, he'd still somewhat recognized Hizashi. He'd still felt safe and protected around him.
Had that changed, now?
Hizashi shook his head. He'd just come out of an extremely traumatizing situation, and he had every right to be wary even around friends and family. Hizashi just had to show Shouta and Izuku that everything would be okay, now.
"I swear, Mic, this better be important. It's break." Chiyo's irritated voice startled the blond out of his thoughts.
"R-Recovery Girl..." He winced as his voice broke again—something that'd been happening more often than not the last week. He could feel her stiffen on the other end.
"Hizashi?"
"I... I need you to make a house call. Please... I... I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone, the situation's... sensitive." Why didn't he plan out what to say earlier? He probably sounded like a stuttering mess.
"Who is it?"
"Shouta... and Izuku." He felt the tears flow down his face again and bit back a sob. God, he felt so useless. He couldn't even admit that he'd failed to protect them.
"I'll be right over, dear. Hold tight. What're their conditions? Izuku's age?" Oh, right. Recovery Girl didn't know Izuku.
"I... They're awake and alert, mostly able to move around on their own, but... Izuku... He's 14. He's the most injured of the two of them."
He could hear her packing her field-bag. "And you didn't take them to a hospital because?"
"Nem and I just got them out of a... They were kidnapped... gone for six days, Chiyo... I... Whatever they went through was bad. I've never seen Shou like this..." He let out a few shaky breaths while the nurse processed those words. "He didn't even recognize me at first." He let out a few quiet sobs.
"I'll be there in ten minutes." She said, and he heard the dinging of the car as she inserted the key. "How's Nemuri holding up?"
"She's sobbing in the other room right now. Her best friend—Izuku's mother—was kidnapped, too. We just found out from Shouta and Izuku that she didn't make it."
Hizashi was grateful that the Youthful Heroine stayed on the phone with him as she drove. Hizashi didn't want to be left alone to his thoughts right now. He felt guilty, too. What right did he have to feel like this?! He wasn't the one tortured or kidnapped!
A moment later, Chiyo opened the door, and Hizashi hung up the phone. Had he forgotten to lock it? Oh, she had a spare, that's right. Just in case... Chiyo had a spare key to almost every hero's house (and epic lock picking skills for those she didn't).
Almost immediately, she pulled him into a hug. She was out of costume, which honestly looked strange to the Voice Hero, who was used to seeing her with her syringe shaped cane. Now she looked like an everyday little old lady.
"This way." Hizashi led her to Izuku's room.
The two watched cautiously as Chiyo stood at the doorway. "I brought Recovery Girl, like you wanted." Hizashi smiled softly, and Izuku returned a small smile of his own. That's a start.
"Y-you're Recovery Girl!" He whispered in awe. Hizashi had forgotten just how much of a fanboy Izuku was. He chuckled softly, and Shouta's lips twitched in amusement.
"Chiyo. Good to see you again." Shouta's voice was quiet and rough.
"Is it okay if I come in and look over you two? I've been told you've been through quite a situation."
Shouta glanced at Izuku with a raised eyebrow, and the child gave him a small nod. "Yes, you can come in." Shouta answered, and Hizashi followed Chiyo into the room.
Shouta looked at Izuku for a moment, and for the first time since they were married, Hizashi had no idea what the silent conversation between the two entailed. He couldn't read Shouta. That realization hurt him a little.
"You can look at me first." Shouta finally said as Izuku scooted to the other side of the bed—though still within arm's reach of Shouta. He also stayed in his view.
What would've probably only taken Chiyo ten minutes at most took almost forty, as she explained every little thing she did, and asked for Shouta's permission at every turn. It somewhat frustrated Hizashi, but it seemed to be the right move.
Both Shouta and Izuku relaxed quite a bit during the entire fiasco. Though when Chiyo brought out a syringe, the two nearly had a panic attack. He saw that feral protectiveness flash in Shouta's eyes, but Chiyo gently set it down and backed away from it. The two calmed down surprisingly fast, and she explained what was in it, down to the chemical composition when Shouta asked.
It became obvious that the two had been tortured in that moment. Perhaps medically so, which explained why the two had begged to stay away from hospitals. That realization made Hizashi feel sick, and from the flash of anger and agony in Recovery Girl's eyes, she felt the same.
Other than that, Shouta's treatment went smoothly. The fact that Shouta now sported new scars on his wrists—from Quirk Suppression Cuffs and metal shackles—made him want to find the man who kidnapped them and rip his head off.
Chiyo informed both Hizashi and Shouta that he had several cracked ribs, among other injuries, but the biggest concern was the concussion. She wanted to heal it up in stages, rather than all at once. Something about volatile head injuries or something.
She also informed Shouta that he wasn't to go back to work—either hero work or teaching—for a minimum of two weeks. Which meant Shou would miss the first week back at school.
Shouta looked conflicted, and Hizashi was sure his work ethic was battling the need to be with Izuku every waking moment. He finally nodded, and neither Chiyo nor Hizashi missed the relief that flickered across Izuku's face.
"Your turn, Dearie."
Surprisingly enough, Izuku was a lot more relaxed with Chiyo's treatment than Shouta had been. He managed to remain calm and even smile at her jokes. Throughout the entire process, he questioned her on her Quirk, his analysis tendencies shining through alongside his childlike excitement. It had started off quietly, almost hesitantly, but the more she answered, the more animated he became. It warmed Hizashi's heart (and Shouta's) to see that shining glimmer of who he was just one week ago.
It was a very good sign. Though Shouta, sometimes, would flinch towards Izuku when Chiyo did something, or uncovered a new injury on the boy. At times, Hizashi thought that Chiyo explained things for Shouta's benefit, rather than Izuku's.
Izuku's injuries had been horrifying. Not that all of them were necessarily that bad, but to see them on a child...
Whip marks, lacerations, burns—those had been more brands than anything—a missing toe (which Izuku explained far too calmly that he'd done that himself to create a lock pick), and what looked to be aftereffects of some kind of drug.
"He had a... serum." Shouta had growled the word like it was something foul. Izuku shuddered.
"It was beyond pain." Izuku said quietly, his eyes shadowed. "I couldn't even think... everything was just white with pain..." Shouta instantly had Izuku in a tight embrace.
"He's not here. The monster's gone. It's okay, Little Hero. You didn't scream." Shouta reassured.
Hizashi and Chiyo shared a half-horrified glance. Didn't scream? They didn't ask. It wasn't their place to know unless one of them volunteered the information first.
Chiyo had given Izuku some kind of medicine—Hizashi couldn't remember her very detailed explanation—and Izuku had slumped in relief as it kicked in. The kid must've still been in pain from whatever hell's drug that man had given to him.
"I was only given it once." Shouta said, when Chiyo asked if he needed it, too.
Izuku's head whipped up in shock. "You didn't tell me..."
To Hizashi's surprise, Shouta looked somewhat ashamed. "He gave it to me this morning. After he took you." Izuku's eyes flashed with anger.
"He promised." Izuku made a sound of angered disgust. "Never should've taken him at his word."
"In all fairness, I think it was because of the arm thing this morning." Shouta smirked, licking his canines like a cat. Izuku smirked, too, and Hizashi got the distinct impression that he was missing something.
Recovery Girl gave Shouta a smaller dose, and Hizashi watched as Shouta relaxed a bit as what he was sure was lingering pain faded away.
I was only given it once... does that mean that Izuku took the brunt of the torture?! Hizashi realized in dawning horror the picture these injuries painted. Izuku had been tortured in front of Shouta. That explained everything. Or damn near. It definitely explained Shouta's protectiveness over the kid, and knowing that now made Hizashi feel even worse for not rescuing them sooner.
As Chiyo and Hizashi went to leave the two exhausted people to rest, Izuku spoke up. "Nana Chiyo?" His sleepy voice made them stop. "Thank you. I really appreciate you coming all this way for us. Dad's asleep already, but he wanted to thank you too." Izuku sent her a sleepy smile. "I'd like to see you again. Outside of... this."
"I'd like that very much, Dearie." She smiled back. Izuku then turned his gaze to Hizashi.
"Thanks, Pa... For saving us. You're my hero." He sent Hizashi a giant grin before he fell asleep. Chiyo guided Hizashi out of the room and sat him down. It was only when she gently touched his cheek that he realized that he was crying.
He called me 'Pa'... and said I was his hero.
"I'll come by every day to check up on them and see how they're recovering." Chiyo explained.
"Thank you." Hizashi suddenly felt bone tired.
"I'll take first watch." Nemuri's exhausted and scratchy voice drew their attention. She stood in the hallway, eyes red and puffy and sported dark bags underneath. Her hair was a tangled rat's nest (no offense to Nezu), and her clothes were rumpled. In short, she looked like shit.
First watch... Hizashi realized that she'd suggested it to prevent something like this from happening again. Though, if anything, it was more to put himself and Nemuri at ease.
"No need, Dearie." Chiyo argued. "I was going to make myself some tea and read for a while anyways. May as well do that here, since I'm already here."
"Y-you don't have to!" Hizashi went to argue, but one look from the nurse had him snapping his mouth shut. He then engaged in a staring contest with her. "Tea is in the upper left cabinet." He finally sighed.
"Thank you." She smiled, pulling out a book as she went about making herself tea. "I'd recommend you two get some sleep. I'll be here the entire time, don't you worry."
As much as Hizashi wanted to argue, he found himself too exhausted to do so. The day had been entirely too stressful. Hell, the week had been too stressful, as he'd had to continue doing his patrols to keep up appearances. He'd also done his best to keep up his Radio Show, though eventually he had someone stand in for him. It wasn't too uncommon; he'd had to leave suddenly for Hero Work before. His listeners weren't too concerned, though he'd gotten several questions on his forum asking if he was okay. But he'd had to keep up appearances, after all. He couldn't risk the kidnapper thinking something was wrong and killing them.
Luckily, Hizashi didn't have any patrols for the next two days. Two days to rest and watch over his family. Two days to help them recover from this entire mess. Two days to apologize for taking so long and not being there to prevent everything. Two days to try to get things back to a semblance of normal.
Two days wasn't nearly enough.
He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.