Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The pressure in the back of his neck began to build yet again. It was incessant. Over and over it would slowly crawl up Bakugo's back before settling ,hidden, at the base of his neck. It would wait, taunting him of what was to come, before taking control and throwing his head roughly to one side or another.

Bakugo sighed and rubbed at the ache making its home at back of his neck as he tried to focus on the pile of holiday work in front of him. He would normally have finished all this homework (and extra) weeks ago, he wasn't like the rest of his so called friends. Yet here he was, a week before the start of the new school term, still with a hefty pile of paper in front of him. It wasn't like he didn't understand the material. If he was actually able to focus his mind he would absolutely decimate the pile in a maximum of three hours. However, he was too busy allowing his mind to race through explanations and reasonings to why his damn neck would just NOT STOP FUCKING MOVING. Ever since he was 12 he would have moments where he mysteriously lost control of his body for just a couple of seconds resulting in a violent shiver. He was convinced this was normal, it was just like a shiver from being cold...which also happened when he was very much not cold. It had never bothered him. It only happened every so often when he was nervous or tired and no one ever noticed. So it really was nothing to worry about. However, now his brain kept wandering back to this phenomenon of his younger years wondering if it was the same as whatever had been plaguing him recently.

It had started off gradually a couple of weeks before the holiday. He had been sitting down at the dinner table with his parents, minding his own god damn business, when the then unfamiliar tingling pressure crawled up his spine and began to fester at the base of his neck. He had rubbed at his neck worrying about if he had gone slightly too hard in training earlier that day and sprained something in his neck. Neck injuries were always the worst and he was not looking forward to having to endure that pain for the next week. However, before he knew it his head had roughly jerked upwards, almost as if he had suddenly seen the biggest mother-fucking spider to ever live scuttle above him on the ceiling. He had paused for a second, staring at the immaculate ceiling above him, before slowly lowering his head and shoving an indecent amount of rice into his mouth. The old hag stared at him for a second obviously contemplating whether to reprimand him for disturbing the perfectly still air around her or not, before carrying on with her meal. Later that night Bakugo had cursed as his head whipped to the side before settling yet again. Back then he had blamed the disturbance in his body to coming home on a weekend so close to the holiday.

The strange neck jerks, now accompanied by an occasional shoulder shrug, were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore and Bakugo was furious. Sometimes he would go over an hour with complete control of his body. In these moments of bliss he allowed himself to wonder if it was finally over, hoping it was just a few strange months that he could move on from. But sure enough the shivers, as he had dubbed them, would come back full force. As another violent twist of his neck sent his pencil sliding along his paper Bakugo finally gave up, slamming his pencil onto his desk and standing up with such a force that his chair went tumbling to the ground. He stood stock still in the centre of his room. Breathing heavily to accommodate the anger that was pulsing through his veins. The anger turned into fury as shoulders uncontrollably jerked up to meet his ears just to fall back down again. He didn't know what he was angry at - it was difficult to pick a victim when it was technically his own body that was working against him.

*how the fuck is he going to be a hero when he can barely control his own fucking body*

...He can't control his body.

He was back in the forest. A strong hand clasped tightly across the back of his neck as his surroundings morphed and turned around him. He plunged further and further into the darkness begging his body to claw at the hand smothering his neck. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't BREATH. No matter how much he concentrated, his body wouldn't listen. No matter how much he begged his limbs to snap into action he just couldn't move... he couldn't control his body.

Bakugo's eyes snapped back open as his head pathetically twitched to the side once. Twice. Three times. He vaguely registered that he was shivering and the previous angered heavy breathing now resembled something more along the lines of weak gasps. He remembered most of what had happened those few days but he definitely could've forgotten something. Had the league injected him with anything? Surely they were behind whatever was going on with him now. Yeah, he was fine. Whatever toxins they forced into his body would be filtered out soon enough and he would go back to normal. No more strange movements and certainly no more sore necks.

Before he could even begin to dissect every second that he could remember from his 'delightful' stay at Kamino he was interrupted. Bakugo looked up from where he was crouched on the rough, charred floor and narrowed his eyes as his door handle was forcefully jerked up and down. Scoffing to himself, he lowered his body to fully sit down on the floor. The only person to be that desperate to get into his room would be his oh so lovely mother. The joke was on her however as Katsuki had taken extra care in selecting the most expensive lock to install on his bedroom door. If he was going to be forced to spend holidays at home he was at least going to enjoy some peace and quiet. Katsuki didn't care as he began to hear his mum shouting through the door. He didn't care when his head snapped downwards so forcefully he could swear he heard something click. He also didn't care when the yelling and screaming suddenly ceased. He DID find it in himself to care when his door was thrown from its' hinges however.

shit. shit shit SHIT. Oh jesus CHRIST on a breadstick he had fucked up. On a normal day Bakugo wouldn't really be phased by what he knew was going to happen next. Usually he would just fight back with the full bravado. Kicking and screaming were what he had been raised around and taught to do. But today he just didn't have the energy to deal with this. In fact he hadn't had the energy to do so in a while. He should've just let her into his room when he first heard her sinister footsteps. No. Scrap that. He should've never installed that lock in the first place. An angry Mistuki was the only person he couldn't win against. He never had and never will. There was just something about her presence that rendered his body useless.

Mitsuki's unapologetic crimson eyes lowered to the ground, analysing Katsuki as if he was but a spec of dirt on her freshly cleaned floor. Before he could stop himself his shoulders were jerking upwards followed by his head twisting to the side. He begged his body to stop. All he wanted in life was to make his parents proud, whether he admitted it or not. He had been so close to doing so before Kamino. He had made it into UA and was well on track to becoming the number one hero. But then he had been kidnapped and that had been the end of that dream. Mistuki would never let him live it down. She could taunt him for years with the fact he had been dragged away so easily without adding the fact that he now occasionally jerked around like a fish out of water.

"KATSUKI. How many times have I told you to stop throwing furniture around?" she seethed.

Katsuki sat on the floor for a couple more seconds. He REALLY could not be asked to block anything she threw at him.

"Hah?" Mitsuki prompted.

"Enough times." He finally ground out in order to please the ball of fury in front of him.

"Exactly! Where did I go wrong Katsuki? Why couldn't you just act like little Izuku for once? I bet he never throws his parents designer furniture around."

Katsuki barely stopped himself retorting with some snide comment about the Midoriya family having no designer furniture so of course perfect Deku hadn't. He hated not arguing back, it felt so against everything he was. Almost in protest to his obedience his nose scrunched before his head jerked upwards. Instead of provoking Katsuki for a reply Mitsuki seemed to pause. She was staring at him with an indescribable emotion written clear across her face.

"Why do you keep moving your head like that?" She eventually snapped.

Ah shit. She'd noticed.

"I'm just fucking shivering. Maybe if you turned the shitty heater on for once you'd be able to mind your own god damn business." He briefly wondered if it was normal to be able to lie to your mum so easily.

"If you want the heating on so badly go get a fucking job and pay for it yourself, brat. Either way stop doing whatever that is, it looks fucking weird." With that final statement Katsuki was left alone on his bedroom floor pondering on what had just happened. Mitsuki hadn't shouted about the lock on his door and she hadn't even hit him once. If his 'shivers' had been enough to make her forget about all of that then he knew he really needed to find a way to make them stop. Without any help of course.

Chapter Text

Bakugo was convinced time had slowed down. Maybe God was actually real and enjoying his suffering so much they decided to make this the longest week to ever fucking exist. On a brighter note, he had finally finished that homework. He knew the answers he had put down were dodgy at best but hey, quantity over quality right? Realistically Aizawa was going to be angry...or concerned? Katsuki hadn't handed in a dud piece of work since he started UA - elementary school in fact and Aizawa was well aware of that. However, Katsuki had better things to be worrying about for once. Ever since he apparently 'threw' that one 'designer' chair Mitsuki had been going out of her way to make sure they "spend time as a family." Katsuki wasn't buying any of her bullshit, this was more suspicious than the LoV. Unfortunately it wasn't like he could just ignore his unnecessarily loud mother when she had stationed herself at his bedroom door and that is how he found himself in the living room ,once again, watching some shitty movie. At least it was better than the increasingly violent board games they had been playing the past few nights. In all honesty Katsuki had no idea what movie they were even watching and he was sure Mitsuki was clueless as well. He was too absorbed in the tingling pressure that had clawed its way up his back into his neck again and the eyes that he could feel burning into his soul. He knew she was waiting for him to twitch just so she could tell him off.

His entire body had been completely tensed for a good few minutes now in a desperate attempt to stop the incoming shiver. Fucking hell he hated this feeling. It was getting worse and worse and wor-ah shit. He finally felt relief as his head shuddered before slamming so far down he was practically folded in half. Katsuki, with a combination of hero training and being the smoothest motherfucker to live, deemed the least suspicious thing to do was to just stay folded. Maybe he could pull off feeling sick...stomach cramps? Overwhelming fatigue? Nope nope no abort, he could see Mitsuki's ridiculously fluffy slippers just inches from him. He took a few deep shuddering breaths. Maybe if he suddenly started gagging she would leave in an attempt to save her precious shoes. Unfortunately, for once he hadn't executed his plan fast enough. A burning sensation ripped through his scalp as his mother grappled with his hair and yanked him into standing.

"Are you really so starved for attention that you feel the need to throw yourself around? What do you want? Sympathy? Well you certainly aren't getting it after that shit show of a kidnapping." She was almost deadly calm as she spoke. She had her nose practically touching Katsuki's, daring him to try and pull off one of his usual stunts. He could feel the shivers building yet again but Mitsuki had such an iron like grip on his head that he knew he wouldn't be able to move. As the seconds went by Mitsuki's grip grew tighter and tighter, if he didn't reply soon he was going to end up returning to UA sporting a highly in fashion bald patch.

"I told you I can't help it you old hag now let me fucking go" He seethed.

"Of course you can help it" Her voice was getting increasingly loud to accompany the slowly tightening grip stuck in his hair. "Its not like you have tics Katsuki, stop making fun of kids that do. God you really are a fuck up aren't you?"

Katsuki's entire body was burning with the need to move at this point. His eyes were becoming suspiciously wet but he was determined to not cry about this in front of satan herself. She'd grabbed his hair pulling and screaming so many times before so why was he getting so upset now? By now Masaru was long gone, yet again scarpering to hide in the bedroom to escape Mitsuki's blossoming rampage. He had never made any attempt to help Katsuki when Mitsuki went just that little bit too far with his punishments. To be fair, Katsuki didn't really blame him - it would be a lot more trouble that it was worth.

This time Katsuki's mistake was rooted in an attempt to maintain his pride. He allowed his eyes to flutter shut and open a couple of times in a desperate attempt to somehow absorb the tears back into his body. Of course with his luck once he'd started he just couldn't stop. Thankfully his body had indeed retained the tears but now he couldn't fucking see for more than half a second. That was all he needed though as he caught glimpses of his mums face darkening. Finally she let go of his poor hair allowing his head to whip downward a couple more times. At this point Katsuki had just accepted that he was well and truly fucked and braced himself. He knew what was about to happen after all.

A resounding smack echoed throughout the silent room travelling throughout the house to whisper to Masaru about how Katsuki had royally fucked up yet again. He restrained himself from instinctively going to grab his rapidly reddening cheek - that always made Mitsuki angrier. Katsuki never fought back when his mum was like this. He knew that deep inside she never means to get this angry since the next day he always woke up to the smell of his favourite spicy ramen wafting up to his bedroom. So for now he was he was stuck anticipating the next blow which landed just below his eye once he had let yet another 'shiver' loose.

"Do I really have to treat you like a dog Katsuki? Smacking you every time your useless brain can't comprehend whats right and wrong?" The scariest thing about Mitsuki was the fact that she never shouted when she was truly angry. It was always dulcet tones, almost whispering to him about all the ways he was a fuck up. He merely shook his head, he wasn't going to risk running his mouth in front of her at the moment. Not after last time...

Mitsuki leaned in so that their noses were almost touching. He stood his ground willing his body to listen to him for just the next few minutes. "Every time I see you doing that crap this is gonna happen. You hear me? You're never going to be a hero at if you keep acting like this." She stared at him for a moment longer before elegantly walking across the room to sit down in her chair and watch the movie as if nothing had happened.

Instead of joining her Katsuki scampered out of the room eager to retreat to his bedroom and sleep away the rest of this spectacularly shitty day. He looked up once he finally made it to the top of their winding stairs and just to add salt to his wounds he made direct eye contact with the wet tissue dubbed his father. Masaru hurried out of the slightly ajar door holding his hands out to cradle his son's blotchy face.

"Oh sweetie she nicked you with her ring! Let me quickly get some ic-" Katsuki slapped his father's hands away with far more force than was probably necessary.

"Don't fucking touch me" He snarled eager to actually be able to fight someone.

"I'm sorr-"

"I'm sick of you just running away all the fucking time dad! Grow a pair of fucking balls and stop her instead of pulling this shit every time. Jesus fucking christ." Katsuki interrupted his dad yet again before turning on his heel and swiftly closing his door behind him.

Once Katsuki was safely inside of his room he finally allowed his body to twitch around as it deemed fit as he ripped open his first aid kit and slapped a plaster vaguely in the right place. He was quite literally losing the will to live right now. The bed creaked as he threw himself on top of it and eagerly waited for his apology breakfast the next morning.

*****

The next morning he awoke with his face still stinging to an unusually silent house. No matter what time of day it was there was always someone making some sort of commotion. But not today, it was deadly quiet and oh boy did that make Katsuki panic. As he crept downstairs, still clad in his pyjamas, he wondered if the LoV had finally manned up enough to kidnap his family. Surely he would've woken up in the night right? There's no way Mitsuki would've gone without a fight...unless they drugged her?

Katsuki jumped over the creaky floorboard that resided at the bottom of their staircase before trekking across the hallway and pushing his back to the wall. He was far too out of breath for having just walked down the stairs but the panic coursing through his body was making his chest feel exceedingly tight. He tried to suck in a couple of deep breaths before concentrating on listening to any signs of movement in the house. It wasn't working. He couldn't hear anything over the rushing in his ears and his increasingly erratic breathing. They were definitely here. He could just feel it.

*BANG*

Katsuki lunged away from the wall. He hadn't been paying attention to repressing the shivers and now he was going to die. His head was throbbing where he had unwillingly slammed it backwards into the wall but that didn't matter at the moment because his cover was completely blown.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE" He bellowed as he staggered through each doorway frantically trying to find both his parents and the intruders before they could take advantage of his mistake. The house was apparently empty. He checked in the cupboards, under the tables, outside, upstairs. It was completely barren apart from a small note covered in his mum's delicate handwriting that was placed haphazardly on the counter.

'We're not coming back for a while. Make your own way back to school tomorrow brat. Remember what I said'

No pleasantries. No 'love mum'. No food left for him. Nothing. God she must be REALLY angry.

He lowered himself to the floor finally managing to catch his breath and check his head for a bump. Well fuck. There was no way he would be able to pack and walk all the way to UA for tomorrow morning not to mention the main road he would have to walk down. He would get a train but his train card had run out of money last month and he needed his parents to top that up. Shit. He hated to admit it but it looks like trekking over to Kirishima's house and catching a lift was the best option. He would only do that if he still hadn't come up with a solution by tonight though. And as he sat on the plush carpet nursing the back of his head he promised himself that he definitely would not be going to Kirishima's.

Chapter Text

Bakugo let out a sigh as he zipped up his last bag. It was getting late and it didn't look like his parents had been bluffing. If he really was going to walk all the way over to Kirishima's he wasn't going to be there until around 1am. Shit. He definitely should've left earlier but honestly he was just holding out hope that his parents would either magically reappear or transfer him some money. But here he was, staring at his open front door at 11pm mentally preparing himself to walk halfway to UA before stopping off at his best friend's house and begging for a ride. Past Katsuki would be so disappointed in himself right now. At least he still had the rebellion in him to leave an extremely crude note addressed to his parents stuck on the fridge.

Eventually Bakugo shook himself out of procrastinating the situation and hauled his bags out of the front door and down the porch steps. With every step down the road he regretted his decisions more and more - not that he had many other options. It was cold and dark and he could already feel a few rain drops beginning to fall (because of course he lived in some shitty romcom that rained at every fucking opportunity.) Thinking about it, he could call shitty hair to come pick him up but he refused to steep quite that low. Knowing the obnoxious redhead's family they were probably all fast asleep already dreaming of manliness and rainbows. In moments like these he found himself lusting to be part of a family like that. One where everyone supported each other no matter what, where someone actually gave a flying shit if you were kidnapped. Not that he needed anyone's love or anything. All that stuff is fucking gross.

By the time he was halfway to Kirishima's he was disgruntled at best. He would never admit it to anyone but he was knackered. The rain had picked up in intensity a good 30 minutes ago and his water logged clothes were making him feel like he was dragging around weights. He was sure his suitcase was heavier than he remembered and he was beginning to think he had accidentally packed his childhood rock collection into his backpack. So as his watch clocked midnight he finally caved and sat below a random bridge he had come across. It probably wasn't a good idea to be in such a sketchy location this late, even if he was a hero in training, but it was the only sheltered place nearby. To top the whole situation off his neck was going fucking insane. It had a complete life of its own as it forced itself up, down and side to side almost as if it was trying to shake the rain out of his hair. An ache was beginning to settle deep inside of his neck as a result and he was not pleased about it. Honestly he was beginning to worry about how he was going to explain this at school. Obviously his first plan of action way to suppress the movements for as long as possible but that plan would never last forever - he lived with the people for gods sake, they were bound to notice at some point. He could cave and tell Aizawa about his theory involving the LoV but he had already messed up at Kamino so badly he didn't really want to add fuel to the fire. Either way the outcome wasn't ideal.

He had barely sat down when he heard the splashing of footsteps in front of him. Instantly he rose back up to his feet already on the defensive. Why was he so god damn nervous? He's the future number one hero, he shouldn't be scared of some rapidly approaching silhouette. He tried squinting to make out the build of his potential attacker but that just started off the obsessive blinking that got him in trouble last night again. Slowly, as to not raise any suspicion, he leaned down to hoist his backpack onto his back ready to make a swift exit depending on the persons quirk. Finally he could make out the stature of a gaunt looking man who was tall enough to loom over him. Katsuki's head snapped to the side as he tried to exude his typical intimidating aura. This confrontation needed to end quickly and in a way that meant he wasn't forced to blow up some random man.

"Oi kid are you on drugs or something?" The man scoffed.

"No now fuck off" Katsuki's eyes had finally adjusted to the dim lighting allowing him to analyse the grease blob of a human in front of him. The man looked disproportionately tall even with the huge trench coat that swamped his body. Something about him sent shivers up Bakugo's spine, he was definitely hiding something that Katsuki wanted to avoid at all costs. The man was staring at him now - looking him up and down before taking a huge step and breaching what Katsuki would consider his personal space bubble.

"Aah well that wasn't very nice was it? I'm sure there's enough room here for the both of us. With you being so small that is." Bakugo was sure the man was even closer to him now. He smelt like musty cigarettes and alcohol . Something about it was causing Katsuki's neck to play up. He scolded himself - now was really not the time to be doing this.

Bakugo attempted to threaten the man by setting a couple of explosions off but everything about him was drenched in rain and he was freezing. As a quick alternative he turned around and begun to step backwards ready to grab his suitcase and leave before he had to resort to throwing standard punches. Instead a hand curl around his wrist pulling him back to face the man. Before he could even begin to snatch his hand away he felt another curl around the back of his neck. Katsuki froze. What the hell was happening? He felt himself being pulled forward and the stench of booze was hitting him full force now as his face got closer and closer to the other mans. The hand on his neck was paralysing him. It was just like when he was taken by the league. Why do these people always go for the fucking neck. Finally his body snapped into action when the man's lips were but inches from his own. He begun to pull and tug desperately trying to put some distance between him and the man. But the other seemed to have a vice like grip that was refusing to waver. Katsuki pulled his head back as far as possible in an attempt to delay what was rapidly becoming the inevitable but startled even more when he felt a third hand land on his lower back. Fuck that was what the unnecessarily big coat was hiding. Katsuki's mind raced - how many hands did this motherfucker have? His head was incessantly twitching back and forth now but the other man seemed unperturbed. Luckily his hands were beginning to sweat now allowing a few small pops to go off. Soon enough he would be able to create an explosion big enough to make the man back off. He just had to stall for a couple more a seconds. Just a little longer.

"Get off me you fucking creep!" Katsuki bellowed directly into the man's face which finally managed to capture his attention. The ominous figure pulled his head back just an inch prompting Bakugo to let out a small sigh of relief. The relief didn't last long however as he stared at the rapidly growing smirk on his oppositions face. Bakugo froze. Did the man have a knife? A gun? A machete?

"Now now sweetie. You look so cold out here I'm just trying to help warm you up! No need to worry!" But there was indeed need to worry. Bakugo suddenly felt something suspiciously hand shaped touch his crotch. He stayed frozen for a second gears whirring in his head. No. Nope. Absolutely not.

*BOOM*

He had finally gathered enough sweat to send the creep flying away from him. He didn't even wait around to see the man land with a satisfying crunch. He ran at a dead sprint for a good few minutes intending to put as much distance between him and the bridge as possible. Hopefully the creep would be incapacitated for a decent amount of time although Bakugo could get into some serious trouble for using his quirk in public. He didn't even care about his track record at this point however. He was officially having the shittest week to ever exist purely because he just seemed to act like a portable villain magnet.

Eventually Katsuki slowed his pace down to a swift walk. He was much closer to Kirishima's house than he thought and he was desperate to be able to lay down in a warm bed. As the house came into view he attempted to slow his breathing and calm his body. The less shivers he had to hold back the better. Finally. Finally he made it to the front door before harshly rapping on the hard wood. He waited a couple of seconds but gained no response. Fuck they probably all slept like actual rocks. He attempted ringing the doorbell before banging on the door over and over. He felt like a child that had lost his parents as his attempts to get anyone to answer became more and more frantic. He would probably have bruises on his fist tomorrow. After almost ten minutes of banging and silent pleads he remembered something very critical that completely scuppered his whole plan. Almost a month ago now Kirishima had told him how he was going back to UA early this holiday to apparently let his parents enjoy their anniversary abroad. The house was completely fucking empty. He was such a fucking idiot. Why can't he do anything right.

Katsuki begrudgingly did the only thing he could do. Begin the ridiculous walk to UA. Pulling up google maps he chose the quickest route even if it did take him down a motorway. It wasn't like that many people would be driving this late anyway. The whole two hour trek was a nightmare. He was sure someone was following him half the time and his breathing rate would just not slow down no matter how slow he walked. He would definitely have to up his running schedule when he got back to training. By the time he could see UA in the distance he felt physically sick. His feet ached and his head pounded with every step he took. The rain had finally ceased after about his third hour of walking but that just left him with chills and shoes that squelched with every step. But he was somewhat proud of himself as he stood in front of the huge gates. He had definitely passed his parents expectations by making it here alive. Even if he could still feel that man's breath on his face and his hand on his neck... no. He had made it and that was all that mattered.

As he scaled the side gate he didn't really think about the alarms that would probably be set off in the teacher's area. He just concentrated on chucking his bags over and keeping himself from shivering as he too leapt the gate. He had barely made it 3 feet into the complex before he heard a familiar pounding of feet.

"Put your hands where I can see them!" The gruff voice bellowed.

Bakugo didn't have to be asked twice as he eagerly dropped his bags putting his hands up beside his head. "Woah woah teach no need to give me such a warm welcome."

"Bakugo?! What the hell are you doing. It's 3 in the fucking morning and you're drenched." Aizawa whisper yelled as he got close enough to recognise his unruly student. He tiredly reached out trying to grab Bakugo's shoulder to gauge how wet he was but was met with an unpleasant reaction as Bakugo violently flinched away.

Aizawa paused for a second. Well that was concerning. His student looked dazed to say the least. He was standing there swaying on his feet and strangely twitching his head to the side every so often. Aizawa was growing more and more concerned the longer he pondered on how and why his problem child was here at the ungodly hours of Sunday.

"Why are you here problem child?" He sighed tiredly as he dragged his hand down his face.

"For fucking school why else would I be here." Bakugo snapped back. He was tired and just wanted to go lay in bed but here he was standing in the dark being interrogated by his teacher.

"Do I need to repeat the fact that it's 3AM on a Sunday morning."

Oh. Well Katsuki had definitely thought it was Monday morning but that didn't really matter. Sure he could've left at a more reasonable time when it wasn't raining if he knew that but whatever. "So? I can get here whenever I damn well want." He wasn't entirely sure what he was saying anymore and he vaguely registered that he wasn't suppressing any of his shivers. He just wanted the old man to fuck off already.

"How did you get here though Bakugo? The trains don't run this late."

"I fucking walked now get off my back old man!"

That immediately raised alarm bells in Aizawa's head. He distinctly remembered from the home visit that he had had to drive down a main road and from the looks of it Bakugo had been walking for way too long. Not to mention the plaster haphazardly placed on his students face and the concerningly fresh bruises that wrapped around his shaking wrist. He decided to ignore how rude Bakugo was being at this present moment and instead wrapped his capture weapon around his students neck before grabbing the dropped suitcase and backpack.

"Come on." He stated as he begun to walk back to the dorm he shared with Mic. He needed to assess the injuries Bakugo had but he could save that for the morning. His main priority at the moment was to get his student dry and into bed. Bakugo seemed to be following without complaint until they made it to the front door.

"Why the fuck are we here?" Katsuki was thoroughly confused. He thought Aizawa was escorting him to 1A's dorm building to ensure didn't get into anymore trouble. He was definitely not expecting to be lead through the door of his extremely private teacher's house and sat down on a well loved sofa. He couldn't find it in himself to care though as his vision begun to waver. As long as he got to go to sleep in the next 3 minutes he would be happy.

Aizawa knew Bakugo would immediately insist on leaving ,no matter how out of it he was, if he revealed that he was worried about his well-being so instead played to the kids mindset. "Well I assumed you wouldn't want to accidentally wake up Kirishima and have to explain why you walked all the way here." Bakugo merely huffed in response.

Aizawa kneeled down at Bakugo's suitcase rifling through to find any pyjamas that weren't drenched in rain water. It was probably an invasion of privacy but he doubted the kid was coherent enough to realise what he was doing. After limited success he resorted to chucking a pair of his own joggers, t-shirt and towel at the uncharacteristically quiet kid.

"Get dried off and changed while I go make you some tea." When it became clear that he wasn't going to be blessed with a response Aizawa trudged into the kitchen to boil the kettle. What the hell was going on with that kid he didn't know. Even before this there was a lot of concerning things about the mannerisms of the young boy but he never expected for him to turn up to school like this. Whatever was going on he could sort out later in the day though. At the moment they both needed some warmth and sleep. He picked up the piping hot tea before carrying it into the lounge and being met with a fast asleep Bakugo. Sighing he set the cup down on the side before pulling a nearby blanket over the boy. At least he had had the sense to change into the dry clothes before straight up passing out on his teacher's sofa.

Hizashi wasn't going to be back from hosting his radio show for another few hours so Aizawa ensured to send him a quick message explaining the situation. Bakugo definitely didn't need a frightened Present Mic screaming the house down at 5am about an intruder. Poking his head out of his bedroom door one last time he decided to just keep it open in case Bakugo woke up confused in the night. This was definitely going to be an interesting school term.

"Goodnight Problem Child."

Chapter Text

Despite how unusual it was for him, Shouta hadn't been able to sleep since he found Bakugo stumbling around the front gates. He had desperately tried to fall asleep for a good few hours knowing that he was already going to be tired enough to be semi-comatose all day but every time he begun to feel remotely relaxed his mind kicked back into overdrive. Eventually he found himself in the kitchen, not entirely sure how or when he made it there, making himself some dangerously strong coffee. He had only just survived pouring the scalding water into his cup when he heard the front door softly close and a pair of socked feet pad through the house. Sure enough as he pulled a second cat themed mug out of the cupboard he felt a familiar pair of sturdy arms wrap around his middle and a stubbly chin rest on his shoulder. Normally Shouta would ask Hizashi how his show had gone, yet he found himself staying silent while he poured a cup of the disgusting herbal tea his husband seemed to love.

Hizashi gave Shouta a quick squeeze before freeing him and grabbing his now full mug. He didn't need to look twice at his tired husband to know he was kicking into 'dad' mode.

"Alright then give me the low down." He stated.

Shouta slowly turned around to face Hizashi who looked way too happy for it being 5am.

"The what now?" He breathed out.

"You know! What's got you looking like the grim reaper has come to take you to your early grave." Hizashi seemed to be trying to speak in a slightly quieter tone to accommodate the two very tried and grumpy people he was currently housed with.

"You know for a fact I would be welcoming that experience with open arms." Shouta said beginning to feel more awake now he had the literal sun next to him as well as the death liquid in his system. Before Hizashi could start to wail and protest about his response he started again. "Bakugo broke into the school at 3 barely conscious and claiming to have walked all the way from home. He's a rebellious and athletic kid but he would never willingly walk that far in the dead of night."

"Doesn't he live like an hours train ride away? That's would be a damn long walk!"

"Exactly. Not to mention the fact he was twitching all over the place." Aizawa hadn't really put much thought into Bakugo's movements earlier, he was much more focused on trying to herd him inside. But now he looked back on the whole situation he wondered if there was something bigger going on.

"Twitching? Like highly caffeinated twitching or paranoia?"

"Neither. It was almost like a tic." He couldn't really put another word to the movement. He was certain Bakugo wasn't doing it willingly; the kid wasn't as good at masking his emotions as he seemed to think. In the dim light of the buildings Bakugo's eyes had flashed with confusion and fear whenever his body had suddenly moved.

"Oh shit." Was all Hizashi seemed to come up with. Both of the teachers knew that if any of the kids were going to have a tic disorder Bakugo would be the worst off. He started a physical altercation at every stare he got and upheld himself to the most disordered idea of perfection imaginable. "How certain are you?" Hizashi finally added.

"Not very. I'm going to keep an eye on it for now."

With a small nod of agreement Hizashi shuffled out of the kitchen into the connected living room cradling his rapidly cooling mug. Aizawa had barely begun pouring himself another mug of his life source ready to drink in bed when he heard Hizashi speak up.

"Hey little listener! What're you doing awake?"

Aizawa sighed realising Bakugo was a little too perceptive to not connect the dots when he saw Present Mic in the same house that he had been led to earlier. Following his husband's footsteps he begrudgingly made his way to stand in the general vicinity of the other two ready for what he assumed was going to be some huge reveal. Bakugo was sitting bolt up right on the sofa staring tiredly at the two men. Aizawa swiftly elbowed Hizashi when he saw him begin to open his loud mouth. He wasn't entirely sure Bakugo was even awake right now with the way the boys eyes shone so wide.

The three stared at each other in silence for almost a minute before Bakugo graced them with the words "I always knew you two were fucking gay for each other" before promptly flopping back onto the sofa fast asleep. Hizashi immediately started cackling, tears streaming down his face. With a faint smile on his face Aizawa snatched the loud blonds mug before the liquid could go flying everywhere. Once he had safely placed the two cups on the side table he grabbed his raucous husband by the hand dragging him until they both fell into bed. They both definitely needed some quality sleep before tackling the incoming weeks of school.

*********

Bakugo woke with a start the next morning not feeling even a little bit refreshed despite his phone telling him that it was already practically time for dinner. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept for that long. The oversized dorm that his teacher had dubbed their house was almost completely silent apart from the faint clinking of cutlery that came from nearby. The last thing Bakugo wanted to do was 'discuss' what happened earlier that morning with Aizawa but he knew the quicker he showed his face the quicker he would be allowed to escape the slightly awkward situation and hide away in his own dorm. After stretching out his extremely creaky joints he padded over to the open door in front of him allowing his head to twitch to the side a couple of times. He certainly wasn't expecting to be greeted with the human embodiment of a cockatoo bouncing around with a pink frilly apron on with Aizawa nowhere in sight. Now he thought about it though he does vaguely remember making some highly inappropriate comment about them last night. Oh well. He can just deny it ever happened.

As he continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway just staring at his English teacher it became extremely apparent that the older man was not only a little deaf but also a disaster in the kitchen. The faint stench of something burning was quickly become much less faint prompting Bakugo to finally burst into the kitchen and wrench the spoon away from Yamada. Somehow Hizashi's grin seemed to grow impossibly wider as he practically skipped over to the table to grab his hearing aids.

"Hey little listener! Glad to see you're finally awake." He exclaimed attempting to reclaim the spoon Bakugo had stolen.

"Fuck no old man this spoon is mine. What is this even supposed to be?" He snapped as he swiftly manoeuvred the utensil away from Yamada's reaching arms. The pan in front of him seemed to contain some kind of curry. Why on earth was he frying a curry? Bakugo didn't give Hizashi time to answer and instead begun to pour every ounce of effort he had into trying to salvage the mess his teacher had created.

"Alright little listener if you REALLY think you can beat my cooking you can take the lead." Hizashi taunted as he slowly inched away from the perpetually fuming ball. He kept a close eye on Bakugo as he moved toward the cupboard on the other end of the room to find the first aid kit. After he had heard Shouta's concerns earlier he decided to take part in the helicopter parenting activities.

"You're lucky I'm a damn good cook sensei. Otherwise this shit would already be down the bin at least 10 minutes ago." Bakugo turned around to see how Present Mic had somehow made it across the room before tuning out the protests that begun to erupt from the teacher who definitely had no right to be defending his cooking. He seemed to be rifling through the cupboard, probably for some more horrific spices, so Bakugo quickly let his shivers come over him before they became unbearable. Setting the cooker to lightly simmer the liquid he stepped away and sat down on the nearby table deciding he would stay here to make sure the dorm didn't burn down before returning to his room.

He was occupying himself by staring out the window when he heard Present Mic speak up again. He had clearly found what he was looking forward in the cupboard from hell. "So kiddo, what's up with your cheek?" Bakugo froze suddenly wishing that Aizawa would walk through the door immediately and save him from having to bluff to a fucking pro-hero. Unfortunately he was well aware that Aizawa would be sleeping pretty much all day unless there was an extreme emergency so his one hope was crushed.

"None of your fucking business." Despite how rude Bakugo was in general, he tried to be polite to adults, especially teachers, but he reasoned with himself that hostility was the best way to get out of this question.

"OK OK you don't have to answer anything you don't want to bud. Would you at least let me clean it out for you?" Yamada soothed. Bakugo huffed, he was in possibly the weirdest situation to ever exist. Why was his teacher acting like it was so normal for one of his students to just be sitting in his kitchen? Why would he want to patch Bakugo up?

"I already did it myself so it doesn't matter." He lied. He hadn't cleaned it out at all, instead opting to just slap a plaster wherever seemed right. It was hardly a deep cut though so he was sure it would be fine. Probably. His mind wandered to where his mothers ring could've been before meeting his cheek and suddenly he found himself ripping off the plaster and grunting a "fine" in the general direction of the man standing eagerly with a first aid box.

Within seconds he felt a pair of calloused hands cupping his cheeks and turning his face. A very deeply buried part of him found it comforting which stopped him from pulling away immediately. He blamed it on being tired. As he sat there waiting for Yamada to find whatever was seemingly buried deep in the box he felt the irritating tingling pressure becoming steadily stronger and stronger. Remanent of the other night he attempted to keep his body tense as his mother's words echoed in his head *you'll never be a hero if you keep acting like this.* If the teachers found out would they expel him? Surely they would be able to find a cure. All they would need to do is hunt down the LoV and demand the antidote to whatever they put in him. But what if this is permanent...

"Hey little listener, no need to be so tense! I'm not gonna hurt you." Mic announced as he brung the disinfectant up to Katsuki's face. Merely huffing in response, Mic's words had sparked a plan in Bakugo's mind. As the stinging cotton made contact with the cut he relaxed his muscles allowing his head to jerk to the side and then down. He felt immediate relief and hoped that his teacher would excuse the movements as surprise.

Mic immediately paused. "Sorry sorry! It'll only sting for a little bit more I promise!" He murmured. Hizashi was even more concerned now he had seen what Aizawa had detailed to him earlier. He knew Bakugo wouldn't of flinched that violently at the stinging of some disinfectant. The pain would've been nothing compared to all the injuries caused by his destructive quirk. But for now he allowed his student to believe he had taken the lie.

Once Mic had placed a new plaster on Bakugo's face he turned his attention to the concerning bracelet of bruises the student had. He placed a reusable icepack on it before Bakugo could protest. "What happened kiddo?" He softly asked not missing how the other immediately tensed up looking away from him.

"Just some training or whatever. Stop asking some many fucking questions." Was the harsh response he was left with. Bakugo told himself that he technically wasn't lying. His mum was training him to stop shivering and the creep had trained him on how to escape a tricky situation. He knew that his teacher thought he was lying though as he watched the older man look at him sceptically before putting away the box and reaching into the cutlery draw.

Handing him a plate of the now relatively normal looking curry Hizashi simply said "Both me and Aizawa will be here when you're ready to tell the truth."

Bakugo froze knowing he had been caught. Well it was too late now. Nothing he said would convince the pro-hero that he was telling the truth. Instead he remained silent and practically inhaled the food he had managed to salvage avoiding making eye contact with the sad face Yamada was pulling. He was finished eating moments after his teacher sat down at the table with his own food so quickly leapt up to wash his plate up. The entire situation was incredibly frustrating. He could feel the usually extremely loud blonde staring at him as he silently ate. He was being analysed.

Eventually, when he felt like he couldn't delay his shivers much longer , he turned around and asked "Can I go now?"

"There's no rush listener! Why not wait around for Aizawa to wake up?" He knew Yamada wanted him to talk to Aizawa about what happened. He was thinking that Bakugo might actually confide in the other man. Oh how wrong he was. He wasn't risking expulsion.

"I'm fucking tired and wanna sleep in my own bed I'm not waiting around for hours just to watch Aizawa eat some dodgy curry." Without even waiting for a proper response Bakugo stalked out of the kitchen to grab his bags and leave. He didn't even care that he was being rude. He was just so over all the shit that had been going on the last few months and wanted to hibernate in his bed until he was forced to face his classmates yet again. And that is exactly what he did once he skilfully managed to avoid all contact with Kirishima back at the 1A dorms.

*****

Hizashi sighed once he heard the front door slam behind Bakugo. Realistically he knew the injuries were probably from Mitsuki Bakugo. After the home visit he had heard from Shouta that she seemed particularly strict. They would have to tackle Katsuki's home situation soon but Hizashi couldn't help but wonder what had sparked Mitsuki to hit her child that hard. He had heard of no reports of Bakugo turning up to school looking bruised and battered previously so what had changed? He quickly shook his head. He couldn't just immediately assume this was a child abuse case. He had virtually no proof and one smack wouldn't be enough to warrant an investigation. Shouta must be rubbing off on him.

Speaking off the devil, the door slamming must've woken him up as he stumbled into the kitchen to accompany Hizashi. Tiredly, Aizawa looked up at his husband with a questioning gaze clearly wanting to know what had happened.

"Something weird is going on with that kid." Hizashi stated simply.

"You can say that again." Came the tired response.

Chapter Text

Katsuki's alarm woke him up bright and early the next morning. He had stayed in his room all day yesterday despite the complaints from the rest of the 'Bakusquad' as they arrived back at the dorms one by one. For once he was truly dreading school starting again. Holding back his shivers for a mere 10 minutes in front of Present Mic was one of the most challenging things he had done in a while. It was something he couldn't win against. And now he would have to sit through hours of lessons completely still if he wanted to keep his place at UA.

His second alarm going off prompted him to haul himself out of his tiny bed to start getting ready for the day. 10 minutes later he stood in front of the door to his dorm willing his body to let out all the shivers that it needed to, but of course the one time he was alone his body stayed completely stationary. Already in a foul mood he stormed down to the dorm kitchen. If he was going to deal with this shitty situation he was at least going to be well fed. As predicted the rest of his 'friends' all practically sleep walked downstairs around 15 minutes later. Just like last term he served them all a plate of various breakfast food because he knew damn well they wouldn't do it themselves. They would quite literally starve if it meant getting up just a minute later. He was met with the usual thanks and ridiculous nicknames as he sat next to Kirishima to scoff his own breakfast down. It was all going pretty well so far, everything was as it was just a couple of months ago. Even the shivers felt relatively distant as he allowed himself to begin to relax.

"Hey Bakubro! What happened to your face?" "Yeah dude did you get attacked or something?"...

Of course he couldn't have 5 minutes of peace in this cruel world. He shouldn't really be surprised that they noticed the relatively large white plaster that strongly contrasted with his slightly tanned skin. He was just kind of hoping that they would just assume that he got into another stupid fight with some extra.

Finishing his food, he stood up letting his chair scrape painfully against the floor. The group continued to stare at him as he washed his plate up, they clearly weren't letting this one go.

"What do you fucking think happened? Am I the only one that kept up with a training schedule?" He bluffed as he turned around. Instantly the group went back to their raucous laughter seemingly eased at the prospect of Bakugo just being Bakugo. He wondered if they would still be laughing like that if they found out the reason he had been punished.

Soon enough everyone had finished eating and the group started the short walk over to their classroom. Bakugo hadn't even made it halfway to class when he froze. He could already feel the sensation alluding to a head jerk building. He had somehow forgotten how all consuming trying to hold it in was despite having done it mere hours ago. A stab of panic surged through him as he realised this was his life now for god knows how long. How the fuck was he going to survive this? If he carried on like this his grades were definitely going to end up dropping and that would just be another reason to be kicked out of UA. It was a lose lose situation. Without even realising it, Bakugo found that he was massively lagging behind the group. Thinking he was in luck he quickly scanned the area behind him to make sure it was clear before letting his head snap to the side. He willed his body to get it over and done with as soon as possible so he could just focus on his work for the rest of the day.

"Bakubro?"

"Shit!" Bakugo exclaimed as he whirled around to face the red head that had magically appeared next to him. "Jesus christ shitty hair don't sneak up on me like that!"

"You doing alright man?" Kirishima answered without even apologising to Bakugo for giving him a fright of a lifetime. Bakugo scoffed before carrying on with the walk to class. The probability that Kirishima had seen him shivering was extremely high. How could he be stupid enough to just do that in the corridor? Either way it was too late now. Instead of addressing the situation, Katsuki began to speed walk down the corridor successfully evading the questions that he could vaguely hear Kirishima asking from behind him. As Bakugo finally sat down in his chair he vowed to himself that he wouldn't release his shivers again unless there was zero chance that he would be caught.

**************

Sure enough throughout the next couple of weeks Bakugo spent hours and hours with his body completely tensed up, frequently asking a very disgruntled Aizawa to go to the toilet as a method to occasionally lose his control. Even after school he locked himself up in his room throwing pathetic excuses at his friends as they begged him to come hang out with them. Time after time he told them he was too tired to go play stupid games with them. It wasn't necessarily a lie but he was starting to feel dejected constantly seeing his friends' smiles drop every single day. Sure, in the last couple of terms he would've rejected hanging out with them every so often and put up a fight the majority of the time but he always found himself with Kirishima at the very least. But now he was rejecting even that and no matter how much he tried to fool himself he was starting to feel lonely.

And that is how he found himself panickedly scurrying up to his room late one Wednesday afternoon. About two hours previously he had finally caved at the sight of Kirishima and Denki being a little too close to tears for comfort after he had stated that he was too tired to stay with them yet again. They had whined and whined asking him what they had done to make him hate them. And no matter how much the angry blonde tried to deny it, he cared for those idiots and he couldn't stand feeling like he was hurting them anymore. So he had spent a painful couple of hours with the now extremely overexcitable group playing Mario kart in Ssero's room. He knew the rest of them had noticed he was being quieter than usual. Normally, he absolutely destroyed everyone (except for Sero) and screamed the dorms down if he was faced with the smallest prospect of loosing. Today though the constant pressure in his body had rendered him pretty useless as he continuously rode off track and barely made a noise in protest. Eventually, after almost two hours of suffering, he felt like he was going to explode. Holding in his shivers had suddenly become searingly painful. Dropping his remote he had bolted upright in the middle of a race stating he was going to bed before rocketing out of the room and up the stairs. He didn't care what the rest of them thought. He needed to be alone at least 45 minutes ago and he was finally taking the initiative to act on that. Self care and all that shit.

Crashing through his door his head immediately started snapping to the side continuously. He barely registered the dull bang that prompted him to stagger away from the door and sink onto the floor in the middle of his room. He was too busy panicking to check if he had actually injured himself. He had no clue what was happening. Usually when he left to release his shivers he only twitched once every few seconds. Now his head was snapping to the side when it was already in the process of crashing downwards. Not to mention his shoulders that suddenly found it a good idea to jolt upwards to match his head. He had no semblance of control and he HATED it.

He had no idea how long it had been when a particularly violent snap of his head almost caused him to cry out. He had physically felt something in his neck pull and fuck it hurt. Tears sprung to his eyes when his head slammed downwards yet again twinging his now throbbing neck. His own body was working against him as he aggravated his own injury more and more. What the hell was he supposed to do? No one had ever taught him what to do when he lost control of his own fucking body. More than usual that is.

It took almost 15 minutes for his body to finally calm down. He took the opportunity of his neck only pathetically twitching to carefully lay down in his bed and barricade his head in positions with pillows. He had really screwed himself over now. Maybe if he hadn't held them in for so god damn long his neck wouldn't be hurting so much now. He shouldn't have hung out with his friends. Clearly the world was punishing him for just trying to have some fun without drawing attention to himself. It dawned on him that school the next day was going to be even more painful than usual. Closing his eyes he wished to everything he could that he would wake up tomorrow and everything would be back to normal.

**************

It was safe to say that the chaotic group of teens were concerned about Bakugo. Sure he was a bit rough around the edges and often protested hanging around with them but his behaviour was starting to become unusual. First he came back to school looking beat up and now he's constantly locked up in his room, even rejecting the chance to hang out with Kirishima. Of course they'd also noticed the strange looks of concern that Aizawa had been shooting to the blonde ever since they had come back to school.

They had all been overjoyed when Bakugo had finally agreed to hang out with them again. It had taken a lot of convincing and literal tears but at least they had made an improvement. They'd all noticed how tense and quiet he was but they had made a mutual agreement to not confront him about anything before they had ambushed him. But then he had bolted up in the middle of a race and just left, barely even saying goodbye. It was unheard of for the blonde to turn down a competition, let alone leave in the middle of one.

Seconds after the blonde had hurriedly left the room, Sero paused the game and turned to face the others, concern evident on each of their faces. Kirishima had leapt upwards in an immediate attempt to follow their friend but Mina held him back shaking her head. There was something weird going on and Bakugo was definitely not going to reveal whatever was going on the minute someone asked him, even if that person was Kirishima.

"Mina, let me go! He clearly needs help, this had been going on for long enough" Mina was unrelenting as she maintained a tight grip on the red head's wrist. She wasn't the most academically smart but she could read situations and emotions like a book. They all knew what Mina says regarding emotions goes.

"Come on man, you know he wouldn't have bolted off like that if he wanted us to follow him." Sero piped up despite also desperately wanting to run after his friend.

"It doesn't always matter about what he wants! Can't you tell something is really wrong? Have you seen the way his head keeps jerking? The fact he looks like he's trying to hide it? The amount of times he asks to go to the toilet in class? Thats not fucking right guys!" Kirishima was almost close to tears as his voice raised in volume. When Bakugo had initially been returned from the kidnapping Aizawa had pulled them all aside to tell them to look out for unusual behaviours. He had warned them that Bakugo might be feeling strong emotions and he would need support. But everything had been fine when he came back. If anything he was even more boisterous than usual. So why was everything going wrong now?

"Do you think he's sick?" Denki finally contributed breaking the steadily growing argument amongst the others.

Three heads all snapped to look at him simultaneously, recognition flaring in their eyes.

"He has looked really tense recently."

"Yeah! And he was looking really pale and sweaty just before he left."

"Did you notice the other day in class when he kept rubbing his neck like it was aching?"

Mina finally released Kirishima from her grasp as she felt him relax. "That does make sense. He should get better on his own then!" She cheerily supplied, already back to her usual self.

"Do you think we should talk to Aizawa?" Kirishima added, still not wanting to let Bakugo go unsupervised

"I reckon we give it a weeks time. He's rattled as it is from Kamino, he needs some semblance of control over his life and us butting in with a teacher over a cold isn't gonna help."

"Damn Sero! When did you get all emotionally intelligent and shit?" Denki bellowed prompting a shouting Sero to tackle him. Soon enough Mina had joined in with the play fighting leaving Kirishima to think about the last few weeks.

Kirishima quickly realised Bakugo had made the group breakfast every single day since the beginning of term. It was probably about time they returned the favour to the emotionally constipated (and apparently ill) Pomeranian. "How about we make some soup for him for breakfast?" He suggested to the rolling ball of people on Sero's floor.

Being met with a chorus of cheers and arm slaps the still relatively concerned red head was herded into the kitchen area so all four of them could attempt to make some simple soup. Aizawa definitely didn't have to make a trip to the dorms with a fire extinguisher twice in 30 minutes and he definitely didn't end up staying to make the soup instead of the teens. No one would have to know.

Chapter Text

Waking up the next morning was as easy as getting Aizawa to stay awake all of homeroom. His entire body felt heavy and every movement he made sent a shooting pain up his neck and into his head. Surviving the day was really not going to be fun. Deciding not to prolong his inner turmoil for any longer, he ripped open his door just like any other day. Except this time he was met with a bowl of...soup? Crouching down he smelt it attempting to scope out any laxatives and/or poisons that he was inevitably about to digest because not one part of him wanted to cook right now. It was still steaming and smelt relatively safe so he snatched it off the floor along with a spoon and a piece of paper. Ah. A note. Those idiots must think he's sick or something after yesterday. Reading the soppy note full of 'get well soon' and 'love yah' he fought off a grin, instead scooping some of the mystery liquid into his mouth, immediately spluttering because it actually tasted good. Who the hell cooked this? Scanning back over the note confirmed it actually actually was the self-proclaimed 'Bakusquad' and not someone like Sato who had blessed his mouth, which admittedly ignited a small rage in him. If they could cook like this the whole time why the hell were they always begging him for food?

Either way his surprisingly decent mood was quickly ruined when his full spoon of soup went flying across the room. Unlike when his body usually rebelled, he had felt almost no warning meaning there was no way he would've been able to stop that one even if he tried. If this shit was going to happen when he wasn't even expecting it whats the point in holding in the ones he could predict. He knew the majority of the class had already seen at least one episode and after last night he wondered if it was worth keeping up the charade. His neck painfully twinging pushed him towards begrudgingly deciding he would hold them in slightly less often. Only because if he carried on like this training would become extremely difficult and it could hinder his progress. It wouldn't be extremely obvious right? Maybe if he started slowly letting them happen every so often he could trick people into thinking it was the usual for him. They would never know any different and he would be able to avoid his current situation. It was a perfect plan, people really don't give him enough credit for his strategising skills.

He hesitantly let out his first experimental shiver when he was downstairs washing up his bowl. It was a bold move since Kirishima was standing just to his right but he did like to pride himself on his fearlessness. He briefly debated making the situation into some sort of competition to make it less daunting before deciding it was too risky. Not that he was fucking scared or anything. As he washed the final soap bubbles out of the bowl he felt the familiar urge and instead of instantly panicking and tensing he just let it take over. It wasn't a particularly violent snap of his neck but it had been noticeable and enough to send a stabbing pain through his body. Unfortunately for him by instinctively hissing and grabbing at the back of his neck he had set alarm bells ringing and triggered Kirishima's 'mother mode.' Almost instantly the panicked redhead had set his own bowl down and rushed to take Bakugo's as well.

"Bakubro! What's wrong with your neck?" Was hurriedly rushed out of his mouth as he hovered around Bakugo knowing touching this early in the morning was off limits. Bakugo barely let out a "tsk" as he let go of his neck to pick up his bowl again.

"Must've jammed my neck last night is fucking all" He murmured obviously not wanting to get into the details of the whole situation. Letting out a couple of shivers now and then was a completely different kettle of fish to admitting to whatever happened last night.

"Guys! Bakugo needs some ice or something can someone go get Todoroki!" The loudmouth practically bellowed into the common room. Great. Now the rest of the group were barrelling into the kitchen trying to scope out the situation. And just to add to his annoyance, Bakugo caught sight of the tufts of green hair that seemed to be energetically following the idiots. Of course Todoroki had been towed in by stupid Deku and not one of the other mildly less annoying losers. The fuckers had seem to forgotten that not only did they have ice in the freezer, he could also ease muscle pain with his own fucking quirk. Instead he was faced with hundreds of questions flying his way and a very dead looking Todoroki in front of him. Before he could even open his mouth to protest a cloth was thrust into his hand by a blur of green and Todoroki was dropping clumps of his ice into his hands. God these guys worked quickly.

Another flash of pain arched through his neck as his head snapped to the side urging him to wrap up the ice he didn't really want and thrust it onto his neck. He was suddenly grateful as the cool feeling suprinsingly set his mind at ease for once. It so strongly contrasted the sensation that plagued his nightmares that was seemingly also weighing him down during the day. Maybe he'd have to snatch some ice from the freezer more often.

Finally tuning into the ruckus that was the group around him he let out a short but effective "Oi!" that somehow managed to silence everything but Deku's almost constant muttering.

"Stop speculating! I just slept fucking funny or something, I'll be fine by training so it doesn't matter" Obviously he was instantly met with resistance. Of course the group wouldn't just let this go. They were definitely the nosiest people Bakugo had ever met and that included his own mother.

"You seemed sick yesterday though bro! Maybe you should just stay in bed today." Sero had clearly not thought about the way he was wording his sentence because there was no way in hell that was going to convince the explosive blonde to not do any training.

"Fuck no, who do you take me for? I was just tired." He defended as usual. Although he did add in a very quick "The soup was good though. Whoever fucking made that better step up because I'm not making you food anymore. You're clearly capable of making your own fucking shit!" Sure it wasn't the best way to thank his friends but it was very like Bakugo. They all knew what he really meant and sent him sheepish grins not wanting to admit to the chaos that had ensued in the process of making that soup.

"Bakugo, why do you keep doing that with your neck?" Fuck. Now everyone's eyes were suddenly plastered back on him. Of course Icyhot couldn't just keep his mouth shut. The emotionless teen seriously needed someone to install a filter into his brain. Bakugo wondered if there was someone with a quirk out there that could do that. He would pay some decent money for it at this point.

"I'm just stretching out the muscles, mind your own fucking business Icyhot." He snapped back instantly, leaving no room for any comments to be thrown into the mix by anyone else.

"I don't think thats going to help Kacchan."

"Fuck off Deku! I'll be better by lunchtime just you wait."

His neck was indeed not better by the time lunch had come around. He had spent pretty much the whole day with his head staring dead ahead keeping movement to a minimum. Of course that didn't work very well when his head insisted on moving around half the time. After his head had suddenly dropped downwards for at least the seventh time he started to notice how Aizawa's eyes were following his every movement. Honestly, he was pretty surprised he hadn't been cornered by the teachers already after the stunt he pulled in his attempt to get to school but it had been a couple of weeks now so he had kind of assumed he was off the hook. Either way the pain in his neck wasn't easing up and Aizawa was beginning to look suspicious so he turned back to the foolproof method of suppressing anything he could. He deemed that it couldn't do his neck any more harm so he might as well take advantage of already being injured while he could.

It was about halfway through his third lesson and Aizawa was still staring daggers at him despite the lack of his unusual head movements. Maybe he was in trouble for a different reason? Although now he thought about it the strange pressure had seemed to work its way subtly into his eyes and nose. Had he always blinked so hard? He definitely didn't use to scrunch his nose like this. Shit. Well at least this was less obvious than the neck jerking shit.

"Hey Bakubro ready for lunch?" Since when was Kirishima next to him? Glancing at the clock he was momentarily shocked at the hands clearly pointing to 12.40 which was undoubtedly lunchtime. Scraping his chair backwards he was about to stalk off behind his friends when the last thing he wanted to hear echoed around the rapidly emptying room.

"Problem child!" He knew Aizawa was referring to him but he acted blissfully ignorant as he continued slouching towards the door. "Bakugo that's you."

Pausing he threw a quick "I'll catch up to you" to his friends before begrudgingly turning back around to face his teacher. Aizawa held up a piece of paper that he sadly recognised as his homework from last week. His shivers had really been acting up that day and he had been ridiculously frustrated about it. All he had wanted to do was go to bed but that stupid essay had been due the next day so he had just done what he could with his neck twitching every few seconds and called it a day.

"What is this?" Aizawa simply asked.

"My essay. What else would it be hah?" He sneered back deliberately trying to be difficult. The other idiots handed in dud essays almost weekly so why couldn't he get away with it just once?

"That not what I meant and you know it, Bakugo."

"Whatever."

"Do you know what grade you got kid?" Aizawa sighed.

"I don't fucking care!" Bakugo was getting snappy now. His nose was manically scrunching up and down and he knew the longer he stayed here the more the rest were going to question him.

"I think you do otherwise you wouldn't be getting so angsty." Aizawa paused for a second before cutting back in just before Bakugo could retort the use of the word 'angsty'. "This is a D at best, Bakugo. You've got to start paying attention in class again."

"So? It's a fucking pass isn't it?" He managed to shoot in causing Aizawa to slowly drag his hand down the length of his face.

"Thats not what this is about kid. This isn't usual for you. What's going on? If you don't understand the topic just say something and I'll go over it again."

"Of course I fucking understand it! I was just tired that day. Can I go to lunch already? I'm fucking hungry." He needed to get out of this situation before Aizawa started prying. Obviously he was disappointed in the grade but he hadn't expected any better so he was hardly going to start blubbering to his teacher.

"Alright then. I'll let this grade slide under the radar but please try to get some more sleep." Shouta reluctantly agreed. He knew that Bakugo wasn't going to tell him the truth and it was hardly worth wasting both of their lunchtimes trying to do the impossible. "And Bakugo. I told the rest of the class earlier but I got the distinct impression you weren't paying attention. Hero training is cancelled for the day due to a staff meeting. Use that time to catch up."

"Yeah yeah whatever." Bakugo replied before stomping down to the cafeteria. Aizawa was right, he clearly hadn't been paying attention in class because the news of his free afternoon had flown straight over his head. Usually he would be furious at missing any form of training but he found himself feeling glad at the prospect of letting his neck recover once he'd made it through lunchtime. After he had made some stupid excuse to his friends about Aizawa wanting to ask him about the snacks supply in the dorm he ate relatively silently. He stayed tuned into the conversation, occasionally adding in an insult or grunt but wasn't particularly paying attention until he heard Denki directly address him sounding rushed.

"Do you have something in your eye man?"

"No. Fuck off." Bakugo continued eating his food ignoring the four sets of eyes that seemed to be analysing his every movement.

"Why are you so twitchy then?" Katsuki instantly froze with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth staring at Kaminari who was now being smacked by nearly every member at the table. Clearly they had all noticed and voted on not mentioning it. Fuck, that means they had been talking about him without him knowing. "What?! I couldn't hold it in anymore! He's being doing it since term started and I need to know." Kaminari whined as he was reprimanded by the trio.

"Shut it Dunceface! I'm just fucking cold and its making me shiver." He snapped in the tone he reserved specifically for shutting down conversations and questions. It usually worked like a charm. Key work there is 'usually'.

"Ah-ha! So you admit its more than the eye-blinking!" The resident idiot exclaimed.

"What the fuck are you talking about, idiot?" Bakugo rushed back beginning to panic. Had Denki only been referring to the blinking? He couldn't tell and now he's probably just completely blown his cover. Shoving the last of his rice in his mouth he grunted"I'm going to my fucking room" before storming off ignoring the shouts from his friends. He refused to open his door to anyone for the rest of the day, even when they pleaded with food and snacks. He desperately needed time to collect his thoughts and evaluate his rapidly crumbling plan but the more he thought about it, the more his body twitched ,and the more he realised how utterly screwed he was. Why couldn't he just catch a god damn break?

Chapter Text

Throughout the next week Bakugo just pretended as if nothing had ever happened. He was playing by the rule that the rest of the group were dumb enough to forget all about everything if it wasn't directly mentioned to them for more than a week. He kept up with his plan of gradually letting more and more of the shivers out and anytime someone looked like they were going to mention it he suddenly became insufferably boisterous. It was such a shame no one could hear Kirishima worrying and Denki's questions over his shouting.

It had been a week since he was almost found out in the cafeteria and he was hopeful that things were starting to look up. Maybe he could live with these shivers for as long as it took for them to go away. Although he could still feel Aizawa's eyes following him everywhere in class, his friends were easy to bluff to and that was fundamentally what allowed him to keep his secret. So he finally allowed himself to relax and hang out with his friends without being as tense as a rock. Obviously with his luck, he could barely make it two hours before everything went to shit yet again.

He had finally agreed to take part in the 'Bakusquad' nightly routine again for the first time since the day his shivers went haywire. There was a little part of him that couldn't help but speculate and worry about whether that was going to happen again. He didn't 100% know the trigger for it was holding the shivers in for too long. What if it was from the blue light of the TV screen? Or the static electricity that followed Kaminari around? He begrudgingly admitted to himself that it was too late to back out now though so he snatched the remote from Sero's hand as quickly as possible in order to get dibs on the best super smash bros character. Although it was a slightly unconventional pick, Bakugo loved to play Yoshi. The little thing just looked so stupid while still giving him a decent chance of winning. Not to mention the sound effects that came with the little dragon...lizard? Bakugo thought the whole character idea was comedy gold.

"You picking Yoshi again Blasty?"

"Fuck yeah I am Dunceface."

"No surprise there."

"Says the guy who plays Link every god damn time! Fucking cheater."

"Not my fault you're always too slow to select him!"

Honestly Bakugo was ready to fight Kaminari on this one but Kirishima had placed a calming hand on his shoulder. So instead of pouncing on Dunceface he just made it clear he was quietly fuming at him. Which to be fair was not very uncommon. As usual, Denki didn't take the death stares to heart. Instead just chuckling and nudging Sero to press start.

They were probably on the third round when Bakugo felt something strange rise from his chest into his throat. It was disconcerting to say the least. It almost felt like he had swallowed one of his shivers, lodging it in his throat. He really hoped his oesophagus wasn't about to start shaking around anytime soon. He managed to avoid it for a solid chunk of time, focusing all his effort and concentration on beating Denki's character to a pulp. It didn't take long for his focus to begin to sway though as the feeling in his throat grew in intensity. Just to make matters worse his brain was filled with the stupid 'Yoshi' sound. How could he possibly have a singular word as an ear worm? Denki finally managed to push him off the screen triggering the classic Yoshi sound card to blast out of the speakers. Just hearing the word that was invading his mind tipped him over the edge. As Denki let out a scream of celebration an almost perfect copy of Yoshi bubbled out of Bakugo's throat. What the actual fuck. How did he even make that noise? If he wasn't so worried about the possibility of being possessed by the fictional creature he would've taken a minute to congratulate himself on the impression.

He considered it fair that everyone slowly turned around to face him. He didn't make eye contact with anyone. Instead opting to stare straight ahead at the screen and not move a muscle (to the best of his ability that is.) There was enough shit to fertilise a farm running through his head right now and he certainly didn't need the idiots to add to it.

"Woah what the fuck man?" Denki breathed out, braving to be the first person to comment on his admittedly amazing impression.

"Bakugo! Teach me, teach me, teach me! Please!" Mina pleaded, instantly dropped her remote in favour of bouncing over the sit in front of the stunned blonde.

Kirishima had been worried about Bakugo for a while now. He had thought he was being overcautious when he first started noticing the strange movements the blonde made. But then he had started to become more reclusive and shut away and now there was this. Whatever just came out of Bakugo's mouth was clearly not intentional. The blonde was obviously just as confused as Kirishima was as he stared dead ahead not making any attempt to acknowledge the fussing duo next to him. The red head was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard yet another "Yoshi" force its way out of Bakugo's throat. This one being accompanied with what looked like a rather painful snap of the head. Kirishima stayed silent as Bakugo slowly picked his head back up until he noticed something. Were those tears? In THE Bakugo's eyes? Holy shit. Holy shit!

"Bakugo? Are you alri-" He began, reaching over in an attempt to console the blonde. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen the other cry so he thought the edge of panic that was creeping into his mind was a reasonable response to the situation.

"I'm fucking tired." Was all his friend said before he leapt to his feet and shuffled out of Sero's room leaving the group in a weird silence. It was clear the fact that Bakugo wasn't just being funny had finally dawned on Mina and Denki leaving them looking guilty. Kirishima did nothing but sit in silence. He was annoyed they hadn't noticed something was wrong sooner. In what world would Bakugo just sit there and imitate video game characters?

It took about half an hour of playing on their phones for the group to emerge from the awkward silence that had settled over them. Mina had popped her head above the duvet she was nestled under alerting the rest that it was about time to make dinner. After coming to a silent agreement they got up and moved as a pack to go pick Bakugo up from his room before moving down to the kitchens to make something (more like watch Bakugo cook.) It had taken surprisingly minimal effort to convince the blonde to join them for dinner. Kirishima really thought tears would've been involved at least three times but the other had just opened his door and followed the group silently as they increased in volume as if nothing weird had happened less than an hour ago. It wasn't hard to tell there was something big looming over the boy. At least it seemed that they had the dorm kitchen to themselves today. Someone like Midoriya joining the mix would most definitely send Bakugo over the edge.

*****

Bakugo had obviously been concerned when his body had started moving to its own accord but now he was downright terrified. He had thought things had maybe been getting better but now apparently he was unintentionally saying things which meant the situation was only progressing. He had left his friends with barely any explanation which he knew was just raising suspicion but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. The whole yoshi situation was embarassing enough as it was without him crying. Although he had left rather swiftly, he had still seen the look of concern in Kirishima's eyes alluding to the concerned trip to Aizawa that would be sure to happen if Bakugo didn't pick up his act in the next 10 seconds. Dropping onto his bed, Katsuki allowed the tears he had been holding in to slide down his face. It was a rare occasion that he let himself cry but he considered the situation he was in dire enough to warrant the overwhelming emotion. But as he got more and more hysterical his shivers just got worse sending his mind into a reeling mess of panic. The head jerks and face scrunching alone were usually enough to send him into a panicked mess but now he was imitating stupid video games. What the fuck was happening?

10 minutes later and his body was only just beginning to calm itself down. Somewhere along the way he had ended up with a hand shaped burn on his upper arm which he didn't really want to address. Throwing on a long sleeved hoodie fixed that problem almost immediately. His hands were still shaking when he heard a tentative knock on his door. He knew his friends too well to try and evade their attempts of dragging him to dinner. They would definitely win the argument and resisting would just mean getting himself even more worked up. Not to mention the fact that unless he cooked they would have to go all the way down to the canteen which he knew Kirishima hated. So, taking a deep breath he opened his door and followed behind his friends that looked like they had a whole script prepared to get him to follow them. At first there had been an awkward atmosphere which he despised with his entire being. The fact that he had cast a gloomy cloud over the normally constantly loud group left a sour taste in his mouth. But sure enough it had taken mere minutes for them to brighten up again. At least the damage he had caused was short lived.

By the time he had slowly shuffled into the kitchen the others had miraculously grabbed the majority of the ingredients he needed to make some simple ramen. Grabbing the closest knife to him he started chopping everything up, completely tuning out the nonsense his friends were spouting about behind him. His shivers were pretty prominent the entire time he was cooking which he knew was raising questions , in Kirishima's mind especially, but things didn't go completely south until he had the wooden spoon in his hand. He had started off purposely hitting Kaminari's hand away from the obviously very pan he had just taken off the cooker. But then he had also had been morally forced to hit Kirishima's attempt at cleaning up what he still clearly needed. And obviously his body took that movement as something that it wanted to continue doing. He had just set the spoon down next to him when he felt his arm trying to protest the movement. The tingling was shooting up and down his arm in waves alerting him to the trouble he was about to unintentionally cause himself. He completely paused in an attempt to deescalate the incoming situation. Against his wishes, this just caught the attention of his friends who stopped mid conversation to watch him desperately try and pull himself back together. He tried twitching his head to the side as his body usually made him do to see if that got rid of the unusually placed pressure but that did nothing good. His concentration was snatched as his head aggressively started snapping to the side, he couldn't really be angry at that as he had technically tempted fate by mimicking the movement. Before he knew it his hand had snatched the spoon back up off the counter and smacked him dead centre on his own forehead. Moving by itself, his hand inched back away from him before plowing towards him full force yet again. He felt someone snatch the spoon away from him as it moved away from his head preparing to strike again but that did nothing to stop his head moving this way and that. Why did he continue to put himself in these situations when all he achieved was an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment. Except this time his embarrassment was quickly over run by a new layer of panic. The shivers had never intentionally hurt him before but that movement was definitely malicious. Even now the spoon was gone his hand was still attempting to reach his forehead to smack the already throbbing area. Is it possible that he was becoming some sort of puppet? Were the LoV beginning to take control of his body?

"Oh my god is he having a fucking seizure or something?" Kaminari's voice piped up from the table.

"Kirishima! Grab him and lower him to floor!" Sero instructed quickly, clearly trying to remember the first aid training they had been subjected to a few months prior.

"I'll go get Mr. Aizawa!" Mina said as she began to turn to run off just to create more trouble for Bakugo.

He felt Kirishima clasp his shoulder which finally shocked himself out of his head enough to stop randomly grunting and twitching.

"Don't!" He exclaimed after Mina. "I'm not having a fucking seizure morons." He tried to reassure the frantic group despite the sentence setting a light bulb off in his head. Was that what's been happening all this time? Could it really be seizures? Mentally slapping himself he scrapped that idea. Whatever was happening to him didn't look like a seizure at all, the others were just riling him up. Despite his attempts to calm the group down he was still lowered delicately onto a chair and given glucose tablets and water. Completely disregarding his protests Mina was still stationed by the door ready to run to Aizawa at any given moment.

For the first time in a while he begun holding back all of his shivers. There was no way they would let him go to bed alone if he didn't look completely better. He noted that suppressing them was particularly unpleasant this time, probably to do with the high frequency of their appearances today. Everyone was fussing around him as he unenthusiastically ate anything that was shoved into his lap. He just wanted to go upstairs and sleep without worrying about everything that had just happened.

"Are you sure you're OK Bakugo? I really think we should take you to the nurse just incase." Bakugo was beginning to think Sero should become a doctor instead of a hero with how interested he was in someone else's health.

"I've already told you a thousand fucking times. I'm. Fine."

"Whatever that was wasn't normal babe." Mina called from the doorway. At some point she had put her trainers on despite Iida's strict rule of no shoes in the dorms.

"Number 1, don't call me babe ever again. Number 2, It's none of your fucking business. I look completely fine now don't I? So why won't you let me leave?"

"Because you just had a seizure! Something that really should be checked out by a medical professional" Kirishima finally exclaimed after spending the whole time cautiously hovering behind Bakugo.

"It wasn't a seizure!" He argued back. He knew there would be no convincing them so he didn't really know why he was even trying.

"What was it then?" Sero snapped back.

"None of your business."

"See! Even you don't know!" Denki unhelpfully added fuelling Kirishima to begin listing reasons of why they should really be in the medical bay right now.

The four were so oblivious that while they were all turned around trying to grab different supplies that they thought might make him better, he managed to silently get up off the chair and sneak off to his room. He appreciated their concern really and he hated always leaving them like this but he had no explanation to give them. If they found out it would be the end of his life goals so this was the situation they all had to deal with.

He was just about to shut his bedroom door when a familiar hand grabbed onto the edge.

"Bakugo please! We're just trying to help you." He recognised Kirishima's voice pleading from the other side of the door. No matter how much he didn't want to hurt the red head's feelings he knew that he couldn't talk to him right now. His brain was so mixed up about everything that he knew it would only take one hug to break him. So no matter how much it pained the both of them he bellowed "I don't need any help!" before slamming the door. He knew Kirishima didn't leave the space next to do his door until the others came and got him. It would be better for all of them if he pretended that he never heard his best friend's quiet cries and three other murmured voices begging him to open the door.

Chapter Text

Bakugo woke up late the next day. Very late. He couldn't even remember if his alarm went off or not although he did vaguely recall someone calling through his door. He hadn't payed much attention though as he felt himself drift peacefully between the layers of sleep. Feeling weirdly relaxed he threw on his wrinkled uniform before trotting out of his door. He couldn't really be asked to run when he was already half an hour late to his first lesson so he settled for a nice casual speed walk. But even that was leaving him out of breath, an overwhelming sense of fatigue weighing heavy on his shoulders as he slowed his pace down to a normal walk. He had slept even more than usual so there wasn't really any explanation for the way his eyelids drooped and his feet dragged. He would just have to carry on however. Today was Friday meaning tomorrow morning he would be going home for a compulsory weekend home visit. Obviously he was dreading spending any amount of time in that house but at least he could get some decent sleep.

He resisted throwing open the oversized door once he reached class 1-A. The recent changes in his life have really made him appreciate being able to go unnoticed, he no longer felt the need to be in the spotlight all the time. Contrasting what his actions would have been like a couple of moths ago, he tried to open the door the minimum amount required and slip in as unnoticed as possible.

"Bakugo! Nice of you to join us."

Bakugo huffed. He didn't really know what he was expecting. Aizawa would never let anyone just slide into a lesson late. He was kind of hoping that he would take pity on him just this once though.

"The pleasure is all mine Sensei." He replied with his usual snark. Sure his brain was currently processing about a quarter as efficiently as usual but that didn't mean he couldn't still make sarcastic remarks. They're his specialty and he wasn't quite willing to give them up.

"Well it certainly isn't mine. See me after class." Aizawa stated before turning back to the board to carry on writing notes on whatever topic they were on now. It looked like some stupid hero laws they had already learnt about 10 times. He heard a small murmur ripple through his friends. Not really having the energy to figure out whether they were poking fun at him or just being concerned he sat down without looking at any of them. Thankfully, the class had obviously been distracted for the majority of the lesson since there were hardly any notes for him to catch up on. Despite this, by the time he had scribbled down the last sentence he had woken up enough for his shivers to start back up again. He was exhausted and the constant movements were just making his head pound. He was determined to carry on as usual however so was taking another few minutes to go through his new notes with a highlighter. The calming scrape of the nib across the page allowed his mind to wander to last night. From some miracle he hadn't done that stupid yoshi impression since he fell asleep last night. He briefly considered himself lucky. He must've tired himself out yesterday and got it all out of his system. But almost on cue he felt the pressure rise from his chest into his throat. This one felt different though. Almost more familiar. Out of sheer curiosity he inauspiciously pretended to absorb himself into his work and let the sound take over him. Bakugo wondered how his impressions had suddenly become so good as a "Kacchan!" echoed throughout the classroom. It was a relatively lucky thing for his body to choose to say because sure enough everyone turned to face Deku who just spluttered trying to explain the sudden noise. He didn't miss how Aizawa's eyes that seemed to linger on him instead of the nerd though.

Aizawa finally declared it a '10 minute discussion time' in a classic attempt to waste time until the bell rang. Both Aizawa and Bakugo knew damn well that no one actually discussed the topics in these times. It was a free for all to put it lightly. The class had quickly joined up in groups and he knew his friends were watching him, waiting for him to join their little circle. But instead he pulled out his headphones, quickly turning on his only playlist full of relaxing music. He had noticed a couple of days ago that some music seemed to calm his body's movements down and after yesterday he was ready for any sort of break he could get. He didn't care if Aizawa was looking at him, he was fucking tired and refused to waste any more of his energy on meaningless movements.

He must've zoned out or something stupid because the next thing he knew his classmates were obnoxiously scraping their chairs across the floor and bounding out of the room at break neck speed. His neck twitched as he looked up and made direct eye contact with Aizawa. When did he get there? Trying to not get into any more trouble he yanked his earbuds out of his ear and shoved him stuff into his bag while standing up. He wanted to be prepared for a quick get away depending on how this conversation went.

"Come sit over here Bakugo." Aizawa stated walking back over to his desk. Bakugo had never been asked to sit down when in trouble with Aizawa. Was this finally it? Was he expecting him to pass out when he heard that he was expelled?

"I'm fine standing here Sensei." He muttered before quickly scuttling to sit in the chair next to Aizawa once he had been thoroughly glared at.

Dragging his hand down his face Aizawa started relatively positively in Bakugo's mind. "We should've talked ages ago." He sighed. It was a simple sentence but raised alarm bells in Bakugo's mind. His teacher seemed so concerned. Almost bewildered. He knew he had expelled whole classes before so why was he acting like this was such a rare occasion?

Unfortunately, Bakugo was well aware that he should have been spoken to when he had broken into the school. He was also well aware of the fact that Aizawa had probably taken mercy on him by ignoring it but was now thoroughly regretting that decision. Lost for words, Bakugo just grunted in response.

"I'm going to ignore the day you appeared at school at 3am for now. And when I say for now I mean until you muster up the balls to come talk to me or another member of staff. Consider yourself lucky." It was Bakugo's turn to be confused now. What else could he have possibly done to warrant a conversation like this?

"Have you ever heard of Tourette's syndrome, Bakugo?" Aizawa asked turning to look directly at his face. Bakugo really was confused now. What the fuck was this guy on about? Was his teacher developing early onset dementia? Or had he just decided to start making up syndromes.

"What the fuck is that?" He shot back.

"It's a type of chronic tic disorder that encompasses both-" Oh shit. shit shit shit. Bakugo wasn't even listening to his teacher anymore. Was he accusing him of having actual medical tics? There's no way in hell he had that. He was going to get kicked out of the hero course. There was no way he could be a hero now. What would his mother think? No. His shivers were definitely going to go away, they aren't tics, they're just temporary. In fact he was probably just deluding himself into thinking he had to do these stupid things just to get attention.

"Bakugo. BAKUGO. You with me kiddo?" He was pulled out of his internal state of panic when his teacher placed a hand on his shoulder.

Yanking himself away he snapped "Why the fuck are you telling me all of this?" He saw Aizawa sigh. This was really not good.

"To put it lightly, myself and some other teachers have been noticing some strange behaviour from you recently including what look like tics. I'm sure you've noticed them as well and I think it would be worth getting you checked out by a medical professional." Aizawa wouldn't stop staring at him. It was making his shivers, not tics, go absolutely mental. He clasped his hands together in a desperate attempt to stop them from shaking but they kept on jerking out in front of him.

"Kacchan!" Fuck. FUCK. Not this shit now. Not now.

"I don-yoshi don't know what the fuck you're talking about sensei." Aizawa merely raised his eyebrows at him. How could he possibly be stupid enough to let someone like his teacher realise. Everyone was going to think he had an actual problem now when his mum was right. She's always right. He's just some brat starved for attention.

"Just listen to me Bakugo. It's nothing to worry about we just need to get you checked out so we can accommodate your needs."

"I don't have needs! I don't! I promise I can still be a hero." Bakugo was approaching hysterical at this point. His breathing was getting laboured and at some point his chair had clattered across the floor.

"I never said you couldn't be a hero kiddo. Take a deep breath for me." Bakguo felt his teacher's hands land on his shoulders.

"Fuck off!" He bellowed as he ripped himself from the taller male's grip and decked it for the door. He heard Aizawa shouting after him as he sprinted towards his dorm. He wouldn't have to face the teacher again until Monday so he damn well hoped he could get this sorted before then.

He made it back to his room in record timing, swiftly slamming and locking the door before crumpling into his chair. After steadying his breathing a little he pulled up an 'incognito' tab on his laptop hesitantly googling 'Tourette's syndrome'. He spent hours looking through every document and website he could find horrified that he could relate to what everyone was saying. The websites told him that if he really did have Tourette's this was forever. Medication was always an option but the side effects were extensive. He was pleased to see that you had to have been experiencing both the supposed motor and verbal tics for an entire year before a diagnosis was achievable and he definitely didn't fit that criteria. He grinned to himself realising there was still time to fix this. This time when his head jerked to the side he pulled up his sleeve and placed his hand directly onto his skin. Another twist of his head prompted him to let off a small explosion, searing his skin. He was going to fix this the way his mother had fixed everything else about him. This was definitely going to work.

*****

Aizawa couldn't stop replaying the conversation in his head later that night. He couldn't help but think of everything he could've said differently. Everything he could've done differently to get Bakugo to open up to him. It had been a very long time since he had felt so hopeless but watching his student sprint down the corridor away from him ignited the horrible feeling deep inside of him. He had been planning to approach Bakugo for a while now and had been convinced being direct would be the best way to go about it. He sighed knowing there wasn't much he could do now but wait for the stubborn kid to come to him. That was going to take one hell of a long time though.

"Shouta, there's nothing else you could have done."

"I shouldn't have gone so straight in with it! I made him panic and then we were doomed from the start." Shouta practically wailed to his husband which thoroughly concerned Hizashi. It had been a long time since he'd seen his husband get so distressed over something like this.

"We knew from the start that we would have to wait until he came to us, baby. He's that sort of person. It was worth a try." Hizashi soothed as he patted the others head. He already knew there was going to be a lot of sleep lost to worrying tonight.

"I'm just worried about him. He's self destructive as it is and he's got no one supporting him with this."

"We'll both keep a close eye on him alright?"

Hizashi sighed as he heard his husbands breaths even out into sleep. This was going to be one hell of a ride for all of them but he'd be damned if it didn't all work out in the end. Aizawa never failed to get the job done and he was sure that this was no exception.

Chapter Text

The situation had only escalated by the time Bakugo made it onto the train back to his house. He had spent the whole of last night and this morning holed up in his room pondering over what Aizawa had suggested.Reminiscent of earlier that term, Kirishima had come and sat outside his door a couple of times in almost successful attempts at getting him to let his friends in both physically and metaphorically. But Bakguo had managed to resists all of their attempts, even when food was offered. Luckily, in the morning, he had managed to slip out of the dorms earlier than their designated leaving time stopping anyone from jumping him for answers.

As he clasped the swaying handle of the tube he could feel the raw skin of his arm rubbing against his sleeves making him wince every so often (although he did briefly consider that they could be shivers...tics?) Even when faced with the ache of burn wounds, he was determined to carry on with his plan. He had spent a lot of the night desperately trying to condition his brain into realising whatever it was doing was wrong. Although he had seemingly made no progress yet, it was still early days and he held up hope for his recovery, if you could even call it that. A bit of old fashioned pain punishment had never failed him before and he was sure the new addition of "self inflicted" wouldn't affect the results.

Despite his determination to act like a completely regular human being and not to embarrass himself on the train his shivers didn't stop. It was almost like his 'conditioning' was making things worse, causing his body to lash out at him and belt stupid little things like "Yoshi" and "Kacchan" at the top of his lungs in front of some little old lady. His movements and sounds were starting to annoy even him so the people around him must absolutely despise him at the moment. Not that he wasn't used to the scathing glares that have accompanied him since the sports festival.

Even with his body occasionally forcing a gasp or grunt he was starting to find it hard to breath. So when the doors finally slid open to reveal the station platform next to his house he bolted off reviling in the fresh air that poured through his lungs. He slapped his upper arm a couple of times as both a scolding to himself for the shit show that was that journey but also as a way to bring himself back to the platform. He was starting to feel himself lose control over the situation and the last thing he wanted was to walk into his house in the midst of what he now knew were probably what people called tic attacks.

By the time he had made it to his front door he had managed to mostly take back control of the situation and realised it wasn't going to get any better than this. In the couple short months he had spent at school the occasional head jerk and nose scrunch had turned into whatever the fuck this was and there was no way he was going to be able to hide it from his mum. He didn't even know if he wanted to hide it from his parents at all. He just wanted them to help him fix this and they couldn't do that if they didn't know. But he knew his mum wouldn't just change overnight and believe him. She was a woman of very strong beliefs and him being anything below her standard of perfect would go against everything she stood for. And there was no way in hell that his dad would grow a backbone and stand up for him. The whole situation sucked. He was still partly convinced he didn't have tics. His extensive research had told him that him having both verbal and motor tics would indicate Tourette's syndrome which normally developed at around 8 years old. He was double that age! He couldn't imagine anything worse than telling his mum about all of this just to find out he had been making it up the whole time. Mitsuki would actually murder him. Emphasis on the 'actually'. Not that he wouldn't also be murdered if this was a permanent thing. Long story short, he was screwed either way.

Sighing, he swung open the front door only partly prepared for the hell he was going to have to go through this weekend to remain inconspicuous. Under normal circumstances he would've still had a few months to pull his act together before the next big holiday. But ever since UA had noticed the huge decline in student mental health they had encouraged the students to go home every few weekends, which Bakugo thought was utter bullshit. The whole reason the dorms were implemented was to keep them safe and all in one place. Maybe he was just biased because he didn't want to leave the comfort of the school.

There wasn't much time to dwell on all of the little things though as the door swung open to immediately reveal the analysing face of his mother. Instantly his body was completely tensed in a combination of fear and attempts to keep himself under control. He needed to be extra careful this weekend. Mitsuki had obviously caught wind of his little dilemma when he had last been home and in hindsight that was when the shivers weren't even that disruptive. This singular night spent at home could ruin everything. Or it could go completely fine. It was pretty clear which option Bakugo was hoping for.

"What time do you call this, brat? Dinner's been ready for almost ten minutes now. What makes you think you have the privilege to make me and your father wait to eat?"

"Sorry, the tra-" Katsuki quickly snapped his mouth shut mid excuse. He could feel Deku's stupid voice rising through his chest and lodging itself into his throat. He wasn't convinved that he'd be able to finish his sentence without blurting out the stupid catch phrase and then he'd get told off for bullying on top of everything else. So instead of arguing his point he accepted the scathing glare Mitsuki threw at him and the huff of annoyance in favour of silently following her to the table.

Despite dinner being physically painful, it had passed rather smoothly. Katsuki spent the majority of the meal in uncharacteristic silence, only moving his mouth to grunt and claim he's tired. Mitsuki kept looking at him weirdly. Probably because he was so tense that he looked like he was being held at gun point but it was better than having to make up some ridiculous lie. He was extremely pleased with himself when he was allowed to scamper upstairs without a singular incident on his record for the night. He ignored the fact that once he was alone he shivered so much he had run out of room on his arms to burn... maybe he should just accept that Aizawa was right. He knew deep down that these were tics and were here to stay. But when he had times like this, where he managed to stay completely still and silent all dinner he begun to doubt himself again. Sure it was uncomfortable to hold them back but surely if he got used to that holding them in would become automatic. Right?

Unfortunately, the next day didn't go so smoothly for him. Realistically he knew he would never make it the whole visit without some problem but he had allowed himself to hope and wish for once. He knew not to try that again. He had lasted until lunchtime hidden in his room. Luckily, this week was a only a quick visit since the longer holiday was just around the corner, meaning he only had to last until 5pm when he would hop back on the train to get dinner at UA. He knew spending his time like this was selfish, this time was supposed to be used for family and friends. However, if isolating himself for the time being was the easiest way to keep them happy and unknowing then that is what he had to do.

He was pulled out of his bubble at around 12.30 when his mum had stormed up the stairs and into his room.

"What on earth are you still doing up here? Come downstairs and help me make lunch before you turn into a hermit."

Would it hurt for her to be nice for once in her life? Apparently the answer to that was yes. Only recently has Katsuki started to realise how unnecessary a lot of his mothers comments are making him wonder how often his remarks had actually hurt someone. He needed to work on that. Not only so he could be the best number one hero ever but also so his friends didn't ditch him. His home life was on the edge at the moment and he needed people that he could trust and fall back on. If he messed up that is. Which he wouldn't.

Mitsuki had already left by the time he hauled himself to his feet and downstairs. This morning had already been pretty bad with the amount of times he had blurted out his bodys' apparent favourite words as well as his new unfortunate hobby of slamming his head into his desk. That was a new one which he definitely wasn't pleased about. At least it only seemed to happen when a particularly frustrating thought crossed his mind meaning he just had to stay completely calm and happy all of the same. Easy peasy.

When he eventually made it into the kitchen he was met with a glare from his mum and a smile from his dad which wasn't particularly unusual. However, he did notice how Mitsuki's eyes followed him a bit more closely than was excusable. Which was extremely annoying since she left him with no breaks to let out the more aggressive shivers. He couldn't keep all of them in but most of the small head turns and grunting could be passed off as simple things such as looking for the knife. It was beginning to become apparent how many new involuntary things he had to deal with though. It seemed like he was gaining these 'tics' by the day. Sometimes he didn't even realise he was doing something new until he properly thought about it. This was a recipe for disaster.

Occasionally Katsuki had had to place food and utensils down mid use when he felt the strange urge to chuck them on the floor or across the room come over him but all in all he did pretty well. The family had successfully managed to make an entire meal together, with knives, without murdering each other. Unfortunately they would all live to see another day. Or another few hours in Katsuki's case.

Katsuki had started to worry when about halfway through eating lunch he felt like he couldn't hold in the words that had settled in his throat any longer. They were sending shockwaves through his body forcing him to choke on silence. But he had made it. Finally. He had hurriedly taken all of the plates off the table. Desperate to clean up like his mother wanted and get out of the situation. He had almost made it after a few seconds of haphazardly scrubbing the plates and practically throwing them into the dishwasher when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Katsuki sweetie. What's got you in such a rush?" His dad had soothed. Katsuki almost gagged, the word 'sweetie' forcing him back into the dark where the cloaked man had preyed on him. The shock of being forced to remember that eventful night for the first time sent the built up shivers tumbling out of him. He dropped his head down and his shoulders flew upwards as "blasting off!" tumbled past his lips. The room had gone completely silent as he finally accepted his fate and let all of the shivers out. It was ironic really. He had just been thanking the universe for his friends being there for him to fall back on and in the end one of them had been his downfall. Kaminari had been using that stupid STUPID Pokemon show as background noise for a good few months now. And of course Bakugo had to pick up the villains catch phrase. God that just makes it even more ironic. He really is just a villain.

Katsuki came back to himself just in time to deflect a pot that had come flying towards his face. He slowly lowered his arms from his face and stared at his mother in surprise as the grey shards scattered across the floor just inches from him. Mitsuki had been violent towards him before but that could've fucking killed him! If she had thrown it at just the right angle with just the right amount of force he would be on the floor right now. And he wouldn't have been getting up.

Katsuki was out of the front door with his bag before anyone else could move. Even with his feet pounding on the pavement he could hear Mitsuki screaming from the front door. She was on about 'goofing off' or something stupid. Part of him was a little disappointed when his dad didn't run after him. He would've told him to go away so it didn't really matter but it just added to the feeling of loss that welled up in his chest. He had really screwed up this time. He found himself dumbly hoping that his parents would still let him in the house the next time it was the holidays. But right at this moment he didn't want to be there watching them pick up the ceramic off the floor. He didn't want to hear their speculations of what could be wrong with him. And he certainly didn't want to be holding in his (possible) tics all the fucking time! He just wanted to be at home. In his dorm with all of his friends.

Without even realising what he had done he found himself standing still cradling his phone to his ear, listening to the sound of ringing over and over as if it was the only thing tethering him to earth.

"Bakugo?" Finally. Finally, the voice on the other side of the phone answered.

"Kirishima!" He sobbed. He didn't even care that he looked and sounded like a child right now. The moment he had heard his friends voice call through the phone he had let the dam burst. He could barely hear all the questions being fired at him through his own crying. He didn't want to be out here alone, not after he discovered the creeps that roamed around and he didn't want to be at his house. He just wanted this weekend to be over. He finally realised how much his friends meant to him, he needed to see Kirishima's stupid red hair as soon as physically possible.

"Where are you? Bakugo, please! Where are you?" His friend pleaded across the phone prompting him to pause and look around him.

"I'm at that stupid fucking park next to my house." He managed to choke out. He hadn't gotten as far as he had thought. It was going to take Kirishima ages to walk here. This was stupid. Who does he think he is? He should just go back to his house and clean up the mess he made. Kirishima would never come all the way over here just because Bakugo called. He felt a spark of hope however when he head vague rustling echoing from the other side of the call.

"Ma! Can you take me to the park next to Bakubro's house? Please!" It was faint but he could definitely hear his friend pleading with his mum to take him to Bakugo. If he drove, Bakugo would barely have to wait. But surely his mum wouldn't drive him all the way over here for no real reason. That's not what parents do.

"Bakugo! I'm on my way. I'll be there in literally like 10 minutes. Less if Ma speeds!"

There was a brief pause in Kirishima's speech as Bakugo heard a car engine rev and a woman's voice say. " Of course I'm going to fucking speed... Get out of the fucking road Grandma!"

Bakugo softly chuckled as he listened to Kirishima ramble on about pointless things just to keep him occupied. Finally, he had found the right sort of people to hang out with. Friends that actually cared for him with parents that wouldn't leave you stranded. With all of Kirishima's chatting it didn't even feel like he had to wait long before a blur of red flew into his chest barrelling him over and encasing him in a hug.

"Bakugo! Kats! What's going on? What happened?" Kirishima rambled as he finally pulled his head from Katsuki's chest.

Bakugo didn't reply. He didn't even stop crying to maintain his pride. Just smiled as he pulled shitty hair's head back down to his chest. He didn't want to talk about all of this shit right now. He didn't want to think about the extremes that both his mother and himself would go to to fix his problem. He just wanted to appreciate that for once in his life someone had rushed to him when he was in need. This didn't solve all of his problems but the warmth in his chest definitely fixed a few.

Chapter Text

Bakugo wasn't sure how long him and Kirishima laid on the grass of the park embracing each other like they had found the solution to world peace. But he had stopped crying by the time Kirishima's mum had appeared in an attempt to get them out of the cold. Dazed, he had let Kirishima lead him by the hand across the street and into their little red car where he could finally take a moment to process whatever was running through his brain. He wasn't sure why he was being so dramatic. Technically his parents hadn't even told him to leave. Everything had just happened so fast and he had been scared. He just wanted his parents to understand what was happening to him. He just wanted them to care enough to ask him if he needed help. But instead he had left the house with his mother's screams echoing behind him.

The car wasn't moving but the three sat in silence clearly understanding that going in all guns blazing would not help Bakugo at the moment. All Bakugo ever needs is time to actually think through the mountain of shit that was accumulating in his life. Hell, Bakugo was just realising that this was one of Kirishima's mum's first impressions of him. Crying alone in a park and pleading for them to come get him. What had come over him?

Just to make matters worse his body decided now was the perfect time to ruin the peaceful silence that had settled over them. Throwing his arms up to cover his face he blurted the stupid "blasting off!" that had started this whole problem. At least his body associated that with a defensive stance now. Could save him from any more conveniently flying pots.

"Kats? What's going on dude?"

"Sweetie." Kirishima's mum watched as Bakugo physically recoiled as soon as the term of endearment had left her mouth. Not dwelling on it too hard she corrected herself easily. "Darling, us Kirishimas are always going to be here to help you. You don't need to open up to us right this second but just consider it alright?"

Bakugo stayed silent, staring down at his lap as his nose furiously scrunched up and down. He felt a callused hand settle on his shoulder and leant further into the touch, allowing himself to be weak enough to desire human touch for once. Just as quickly as the hand had found its way to his shoulder it had left. He was just about to protest when he felt it suddenly migrate to his face.

"You're bleeding..." Eijiro murmured swiping at his cheek. Shit. A shard must've caught him without him knowing. It wouldn't do any physical long term damage but he knew it had raised even more questions in his friends mind.

"He's what?" Another set of much more delicate hands replaced the previous. Finally looking up he saw the mother figure he had always secretly wanted staring at him like she actually cared. Despite his best wishes he felt tears spring to his eyes yet again. Not that they were that noticeable through his compulsive blinking. Even after everything that had happened today he found himself smiling as she placed a plaster on his cheek that was entirely unnecessary and began to drive them back to UA. He was perfectly content, even as butterflies swarmed his stomach when Kirishima's hand travelled to find his. That was a problem to add right to the bottom of the mountain of shit.

"Kirishima... Mrs Kirishima I-"

"Eijiro"- "Aiko". He chuckled to himself lightly. He really had found the right people and for once he didn't find himself scared to not be mean and melodramatic. Maybe it was OK to be calm.

"Ei, Aiko Thank yo- Yoshi! FUCK!" The moment of calm in his body was ruined. He had clearly spoken too soon. Who was he kidding? He would never be calm like this. Characteristically, he was now furious. He just wanted to thank the people that had done so much for him in just a day and here he was shouting out some dumb video game character. They probably thought he was mocking them. God, they're going to hate him forever now, he just knew it.

He felt Eijiro tighten his grip on his hand and chuckle.

"We get it dude, it's alright."

Bakugo knew it wasn't actually alright but he wasn't about to argue about it in front of Aiko. He could save that for when they were in the dorms, which looking out of the window, appeared to be happening a lot sooner than expected.

Parking the car, Aiko turned around in her chair to look at the two boys who were a little too close to be excusable.

"If either of you, including you Baku-"

"Katsuki. Or whatever." He interrupted. It was only fair that they were all on first name basis.

"Including you Katsuki. Find any trouble, just give me a ring. I'll beat up whatever's bothering you."

"Mum!" Eijiro exclaimed from next to him, finally releasing his grip on Bakugo's hand.

"You know I'll do it Eijiro!" Aiko chuckled before patting each of the boys on the head prompting Bakugo to swat at her hand before clambering out of the car and grabbing the overnight bags that both of them had miraculously remembered to bring with them. It was still early in the day meaning they definitely would've had time to go back and grab Eijiro's stuff but Bakugo found himself relieved at the prospect of not having an adult breathing down his neck. No matter how kind they appeared to be.

"Bye Ma!" Eijiro shouted after the car waving furiously before reaching down and taking Bakugo's hand again already beginning to pull him towards the dorms. "Dude, we're so early we're gonna have the dorms to ourselves! You know what that means?"

Katsuki was torn between laughing at the obscene joke that invaded his mind and crying about how he had cut the Kirishima's weekend short. They deserved to spend as much time as possible together without him invading the picture. Which he had obviously done, meaning he was about to do the impossible and try to apologise. Kirishima was still looking at him excitedly as he dragged him through the front door clearly expecting a guess at whatever they were about to do. Bakugo was probably about to make his day by saying the infamous Bakugo "s" word.

"I'm so-." He shook his head, pushing away the stupid innuendos that were coming to the front of his mind. "S-" His tongue clicking interrupted his speech this time. Avoiding Kirshima's hesitant stare he paused. Why did the stupid red head have to make some ridiculously suggestive comment. He probably hadn't even realised he'd done it and now Katsuki was struggling to keep the words in. Maybe he should just give in and actually guess instead of apologising. No. He had to do this.

"S-Sex!"

The two paused. Staring at each other so hard Katsuki swore Kirishima's eyes were about to bug out of his head.

"NO! I mean nope. I didn't - uh - I didn't mean that! I fucking swear I didn't mean to say that! It just fucking happened alright? FUCK!" Bakugo stammered desperate to reassure Kirishima that he was not just casually asking to become friends with benefits or some other shit.

He froze as he felt Kirishima's hand leave his own trying to justify to himself that it was fair enough Kirishima didn't want to hold hands anymore. He had just made a ridiculous proposition after all. By accident! But to his surprise, moments later raucous laughter erupted from his friend who was using his recently freed hand to clutch at his stomach . The sight of the teenager bent over himself wheezing at a singular word that Bakugo had accidentally said quickly caused snorts of laughter to tumble out of the blonde as well. Which clearly didn't help the situation as Kirishima had to resort to clinging onto the other to stay upright. Bakugo was sure that if any of their classmates had been here to witness the unusual scene a good few videos would've been sent around the school. The whole situation oddly filled Katsuki with joy. If he had done that in front his parents he would've been one step closer to death by flying pot. If he had done that in public he would've been one step closer to death by embarrassment. But here in front of Eijiro, the thing that was causing him the most pain in life inspired pure amusement in his friend. For now at least. Which is why Bakugo decided he needed to tell Kirishima about Aizawa's ridiculous but probably true suggestion before he either exploded or make one too many inappropriate 'jokes'.

"Ah man Kats." Kirishima wheezed as he wiped a genuine tear from his eye. "I was gonna say that you could make us food without Denki slobbering in it but now I think we need to talk!"

"Yeah actually we do." Bakugo stated, easily recovering from his fit of laughter.

"oh. OH!"

"Not about that you fucking idiot! Jesus christ, get your mind out of the god damn gutter." He huffed, smacking Kirishima on the head.

"Says you!"

Involuntarily sniffing a couple of times Bakugo dragged Kirishima the rest of the way into the kitchen, shoving him in the vague direction of the stools and pulling down a couple of ingredients to make a curry. He could feel Eijiro staring at him silently clearly trying to give him time to decide what he was going to say. Bakugo appreciated the gesture. He knew how hard it was for Kirishima to stay quiet, it seemed to be in his nature to ask questions. He took his time cutting up the vegetables in silence, revelling in the possible last minutes of their friendship. Deep inside he knew Kirishima wouldn't abandon him over something this silly but his mind kept flashing back to that flying pot...no. He shouldn't be so irrational. Kirishima had never reacted badly to any of his 'tics' before so putting a name to them shouldn't do any harm.

His neck jerking particularly violently gave rise to a way for Bakugo to try and say what was going on.

"Uh. You know how I keep doing shitty stuff like that?" He murmured dropping his head down and vaguely gesturing to his neck.

"The twitching?" Came a soft reply.

"Yeah. And the random words and crap." He sensed Kirishima leaving his seat and instinctively tensed until he felt the hand reassuringly drop onto his bacl. "Aizawa mentioned some stuff about maybe having a tic disorder. Which I think it utter bullshit by the way! I just thought I'd let you know since you're here or whatever!"

He felt Kirishima incase him in a side hug as he breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't just lost the most caring person he had ever met. "It was so manly of you to tell me bro!" The red head boomed right next to his ear. "Although I did kind of know already." He tacked onto the end like that was just something completely normal to be saying.

Bakugo dropped the spoon on the table, carefully turning in the embrace to stare Kirishima dead in the eye. "You what?"

"Come on man! It was pretty obvious something was going on."

Bakugo stayed silent.

"Well? Did Aizawa set a doctors appointment up or anything?" Kirishima prompted.

"No."

"How come?" Kirishima said looking thoroughly confused.

Bakugo ripped himself from the others grasp as he felt the particularly strong urge to smack something. He would much rather that something be himself. "Because I told him to fuck off!"

Katsuki felt panic rise through him as his friend stood there, just staring at him smack himself as if he'd grown a second head.

"Why?" Eijiro breathed as he stepped forward to take Katsuki's hand away from his chest. He clasped the fist in his two hands and begun to tap a slow rhythm on the bunched up fingers, letting go whenever he felt a particularly harsh jerk. When he had started suspecting that Bakugo might have tics he had done plenty of research but seeing his friend unintentionally hurt himself and refuse to seek help about it was hard.

"Because I don't have fucking tics!" Tears were openly streaming down Katsuki's face now. He hated this. He hated looking so pitiful in front of his friend but he didn't know what to do. For once, the rising emotions were too much to simply keep inside. "Why?" He sobbed. "I don't want to be like this Ei! Why am I always the fuck up?"

"Woah woah woah Kats calm down." Eijiro quickly pulled Katsuki into a full hug not minding when his friend begun thunking his head on his shoulder. It barely hurt and he knew it wasn't intentional. He waited a bit for Katsuki to calm down enough to take in a few shuddering breaths before carrying on. "First of all you aren't a fuck up. Never have been and never will be. Secondly, it's not something you can control and I think you know that. I know you well enough to know you've researched this to death. We just need to go to Mr. Aizawa and explain why you got so upset alright?"

Katsuki stilled in Kirishima's arms before bolting upright, his plan flashing in his mind. He wanted to try the conditioning for at least a little bit longer before he went to his teacher.

"No. It's fine. I don't need to go to Aizawa." He huffed out.

Kirishima marvelled as Katsuki went back to plating up the now finished curry. The way he had shut off all of his emotion was like he had flipped a switch, which was concerning to say the least. Where had he learnt how to do that? It also didn't help that Kirishima could recognise the expression on Bakugo's face. He was planning something.

"I'm sorry you had to see that Kirishima."

Eijiro stilled. Katsuki had gone back to calling him by his surname. Which was somewhat an improvement from 'shitty hair' but he was still concerned. Not to mention that that sentence was overly polite for Bakugo. Had he just said sorry? Kirishima sighed. He shouldn't really be surprised that this would take such a heavy toll on Bakugo's mental health but he would be lying if he said he hadn't been hoping his friend would just openly accept the help.

"I really think you should go see Aizawa, Kats." He called across the room as Bakugo carried the plates to the table. He saw the blonde freeze, clearly debating what to do next.

"I'll go see him if it gets any worse." Bakugo settled on. It wasn't technically a lie. If things got worse he would go to their teacher. But he swore to himself that wasn't going to happen. He was going to fix this.

"Alright." Eijiro knew arguing about it would do no good so instead settled back into comfortable conversation over the food. He couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't right though. He had never seen Bakugo openly show so much emotion beside anger before. Things had been off since they got back to school but that short visit home had changed something. Whether it was a good or bad thing that Katsuki was crying in front of him now, Eijiro would never know.

Chapter Text

Bakugo had felt Kirishima's eyes glued to him ever since that one night he snapped, simply waiting for him to tip over the edge. The joke was on him however, as Bakugo never slipped up during the day. His tics were noticeable and he didn't necessarily hide them. But he never showed any incling of the whirlwind that was encasing his mind. It was a habit now that every time a tic took over he reached over to hurt himself in a feeble attempt to stop the part of his brain that was fucking up so badly. But doing that would give away his situation to everybody. He was lucky enough that his arms had healed up unnaturally quickly thanks to his quirk adaptations enabling him to get away with wearing his sleeveless hero costume. Instead he had moved to his stomach, a much more tender patch of skin that wasn't quite so adept at dealing with the burns but much easier to hide. He wasn't stupid after all. He knew if someone saw this it would raise questions and inevitably a safeguarding investigation from his school and that was a can of worms he really didn't want to open.

Unusually, Bakguo was pretty pleased with himself. He had gone a good few weeks avoiding another confrontation with Kirishima by somehow not letting him onto the fact the shivers were indeed getting worse. The physical training lessons had really picked up in frequency now they were reaching the last term of the year and with that came a lot of 'super move' drills. With his classmates consistently shouting the same phrases over and over again appeared a new pressure that settled in the blonde's chest. Unsurprisingly, the phrases had started naturally tumbling out of Bakugo as well. It seemed pretty harmless but was extremely damaging to his priceless pride since Dunceface decided to take it as a compliment. It wasn't. However, it was relatively easy to play off as a joke. He just pretended his new sense of humour encompassed mimicking everyone and no one seemed to question it, excluding the red ball of anxiety that hovered over him these days.

The end of Bakugo's entire facade arrived rather abruptly on a Friday afternoon training session. He had been feeling particularly rough the entire day after he had spent the majority of the night and morning ticcing over and over again. He knew it was about time he went back to Aizawa. Clearly he didn't have the situation under control and the amount of sleep he was loosing over it was starting to become apparent in his actions. But there was still that niggling part inside of him that thought he could fix this. That knew he could fix this. So he had carried on with his day well aware that it wasn't just Kirishima and Aizawa's eyes that were following him now. He was causing a stir amongst his friends with his strange behaviour which he stoically ignored. If he was confident enough that nothing had changed the rest were sure to follow.

After a long day, which he couldn't quite remember in the detail he should've, he found himself in the changing room, shaking his head in a classic attempt to regain some composure. His days were beginning to merge into one big mess of trying his best not to tic and his mind was just getting foggier by the second. He had the sinking feeling that something bad was going to happen immanently.

"Bakubro? You alright man? We're all ready." His neck snapped to the side as he turned to Kirishima who was already clad in his gym outfit along with their classmates. Tongue clicking he cursed this stupid brain for not keeping him in the loop of whatever was going on.

"Just fucking leave without me, I'll be out in a second." He grunted as he begun to shrug his trousers off, the twinge of pain reminding him to make sure no one saw his stomach. To his luck the rest of the class had left by the time he had his joggers on but he couldn't help but notice the spot of red that resided on the bench next to him.

"Red riot unbreakable!" He blurted out staring at his friend. Well shit. That definitely wasn't what he had meant to say. Regardless of the look of mild panic on the blonde's face, Kirishima began to chuckle.

"That's a sweet tic Katsuki!" The loud red idiot cheered clearly pleased with the way he had managed to worm himself into Bakugo's mind.

"It's not a fucking - just get the fuck out shitty hair! I don't need you baby sitting me change." He huffed pointing at the door. He needed to get the idiot to leave before he took his shirt off.

"Sorry, sorry, I won't tease. It's fine though bro, I'll just wait here." Why wouldn't he just fucking leave?

"Are you that desperate to see me naked shitty hair? Hah?" Bakugo shot back without really thinking about what had just left his mouth. Realisation dawned on him however as he watched in astonishment as his friend's face turned as bright as his hair. He refused to believe he had actually just managed to embarrass shitty hair, the king of having zero dignity.

As expected the boy recovered swiftly, quickly shooting back "Can't help but want to see your manly pecs bro!"

It was Bakugo's turn to splutter now as he swiftly spun around, settling on whipping off his shirt with his back facing Kirishima. He could practically feel Kirishima vibrating with laughter behind him.

"Blasting off!" He shouldn't be surprised that the embarrassment was getting to him in this way but he still found himself disappointed. Such a stupid joke had sent him teetering off his carefully constructed cliff of concentration. What a fucking joke he was. "Yoshi! Fuck. Fuck off. You fuck off. No you fuck off." If one thing was going right, it was the fact he had managed to pull his shirt on before his arms decided to begin smacking his chest. He was well aware of the fact he sounded like a broken record and looked like an idiot but he had begrudgingly concluded that it was better to just let this out in front of one person than the whole class.

"Die. Yoshi, go die!" He was mildly concerned at the dark turn his brain had seemed to take. Phrases like this weren't necessarily unusual in his day to day vocabulary but he much preferred having some semblance of control of who he was insulting and when. However, his subpar luck somehow managed to pull through this time. As almost as if on cue with the bell ringing, the phrases stopped. Bakugo could still feel them bubbling inside of him but he had miraculously been able to slam the lid harshly down on the regrowing pile. He could deal with the physical twitches for now but the unusual stuff had to stay put until he was alone. He quickly shuffled towards the door anxious to get out and join the rest of the class before he was considered late despite knowing Kirishima wouldn't just let him leave without a discussion. He knew that he had made a mistake and Kirishima was going to grill him about it but it was never that difficult to satiate him.

"It's clearly getting worse Kats. You need to go talk to Aizawa or I will for you." That alarmed Bakugo a fair amount. He had never heard Kirishima be so stern before and he certainly had never been this pushy. However, Katsuki deemed it safe to brush off the comment for now. He knew Kirishima would give him a little bit more time to get his bearings before uprooting his whole life.

"Yeah, yeah whatever." He muttered, shooting one last look over his shoulder at his friend as he exited the changing room to join the rest of the class. He was suddenly hyper aware of the tight rope he felt as if he was walking. One more fall and it was game over.

*****
As soon as he heard Kirishima's super mover echo across the stadium he knew he was screwed. The pressure that was building up in his chest suddenly became unusually strong bordering on just being pure painful. But he brushed it off as Denki's electricity having jolted his heart or something equally as dumb and carried on throwing punch after punch missing each time.

"Oi Bakubro! You're so slow I might actually win for once!" Bakugo scowled as Denki squealed with joy. It wasn't his fault he was lagging behind. It was getting ridiculously hard to concentrate on anything but the pulsing pressure. If Dunceface had to deal with the situation he would be throwing a punch every 10 minutes at best. He attempted holding his breath, his brain was telling him that it would help keep the monster inside. All he had to do was suffocate it. Easy peasy.

"You ready for my finishing move bro? 30 milli-"

That was all it took for Bakugo to come down in one fell swoop. It was incredible really. How something so small could send a whole mountain of carefully placed shit crashing down with no hopes of stopping it. How it could change a situation so drastically. The fact that Denki always seemed to be his downfall blooming in Bakugo's head almost made him chuckle. Of course the Dunce's idiocy was rubbing off on him.

Bakugo was aware that Denki had paused as soon as the words started spraying from his mouth. Even he could recognise that this wasn't part of Bakugo's 'new sense of humour'. Denki's super move announcement was spilling from his mouth over and over. Sometimes not even letting him finish saying the phrase before starting again. It wasn't long before Bakugo hunched over, tears in his eyes, placing a hand over his abdomen. He couldn't even tell if it was him in control when the pop of explosions begun falling from his palm.

"Dude? Bakugo? What the fuck are you doing?"

Bakugo couldn't respond. He could barely get himself to breath, only being able to weakly gasp between words. He was going to fucking suffocate and all his friends were going to watch.

"KIRI!" He heard Kaminari belt at the top of his lungs which should've reassured him that someone was going to help. But instead the simple mention of the other boy prompted Bakugo's body to try and change it up a bit.

"Red riot unbreakable! Red - re- red riot!" His hand had moved from his stomach, now bashing his fists together in a feeble mimic of his friends iconic pose. He wasn't sure how long it had been but as soon as he saw a swarm of colour begin to move his way he picked himself up and scampered towards the changing rooms. He needed to get this under control and his stupid friends would definitely not help the situation. He had no clue what to do, his tic attacks had never been this bad before but the ache in his throat and knuckles were getting worse and he needed to stop before he did any actual damage. He could definitely fix this alone.

He practically threw himself through the door as soon as it was in reach scampering into the middle of the floor after he narrowly avoided cracking his head backwards on the bench. As soon as he had a more stable control over his body he would go to his room and ride this out alone. But while his body thrashed and his throat screamed he would have to wait here desperately hoping no one would walk through the door.

*****

Back outside Kirishima had made a mad dash for the changing room as soon as the class's attention had been drawn towards Bakugo's shouts. He knew he should've forced him to Aizawa sooner. He had let it get this bad and now Bakugo was hurting and there was nothing he could do about it. He pledged to himself that he would never let this happen again.

He had barely made it to the edge of the field when he felt a large hand clamp onto his shoulder. Scrambling to turn around as fast as possible he was met with the wide eyes of their teacher. Although somehow the drooping fatigue that normally accompanied the man had been replaced with something else much more alert. Kirishima wouldn't have called it pure panic, instead a reluctant sorrow. Clearly Kirishima wasn't the only one that had put the pieces together but couldn't quite present the puzzle. He found himself taking a deep breath, relieved that he wasn't fighting for Bakugo alone.

"Let me handle this." He was simply told causing fury to blossom in his chest. Sure he was the teacher but who did he think he was?

"But sir I -"

"Please. Kirishima. Do you really think he wants you to see him like this?"

Kirishima paused, astounded. Aizawa had a point. He had never seen Bakugo have a tic attack and the panicked recognition on his friend's face indicated that this definitely wasn't the first one. The boy was clearly hiding them from everyone which unfortunately meant Kirishima was certainly not welcome in there.

"Exactly. Now go back and carry on training with the rest, Kiddo. Tell the class All might is on his way down."

Kirishima felt one last pat on his shoulder before he watched his teacher jog down the path with an aura of urgency oozing off of him. It was only then that Kirishima realised that this was much more serious than he thought. There was something going on behind the scenes of these tics and Aizawa clearly had an inclining of what it was. And Kirishima had a nasty feeling he knew what it was as well. Or should he say who?

Chapter Text

Bakugo thought it was fair enough that he was beginning to feel an inkling of panic creep into his system. Screw that, it wasn't just an inkling. The panic was all consuming, devouring his every thought. Suddenly that tic attack he had had a few months ago felt like a leisurely stroll in the park, being nothing compared to this. He didn't know how long it had been since he had stumbled into the room but it felt like a lifetime as his body practically writhed in its position. His legs kept unrelentingly flying outwards as his hands flew against his chest with a rhythmic thud. It felt like his body was so overrun with energy that electricity was pulsing through him. He found himself wondering whether this is what Denki felt like when he lost control of his quirk.

The ticcing hadn't even begun to wane when he vaguely registered the sound of quick footsteps striding into the room. There was nothing he could do to stop himself from moving and shouting despite his want...no, need to keep this a secret. The louder the footsteps became the more he tried to pull himself together. But it was just getting worse as he begun to feel himself splutter for breath between the meaningless phrases that were erupting from his mouth.

"Bakugo? Bakugo! Kiddo!"

Was that Mr Aizawa? Bakugo felt a glimmer of hope light in his chest. Aizawa would definitely know what to do, he always did after all. He could help him and then Bakugo could just carry on with training. This would definitely be an easy fix.

Bakugo attempted to reach out and grasp his teacher, desperate for something to ground himself, but every time he felt like he was remotely close his hand would be snatched away by the strings that were manipulating him. Against his will, tears begun to fall from his eyes as his frustration grew to a peak. How the fuck was he supposed stop this when he couldn't even articulate what he needed?

"I'm going to put my hand on your shoulder, Bakugo. Is that alright?" Aizawa's voice pushed through the panicked haze quickly settling across his senses startling him to nod violently. Aizawa always knew what he needed.

He felt one steady hand fall gently on his shoulder before he heard the familiar gruff voice speak up again.

"You're having a tic attack, Katsuki. You will be alright. It will pass. I just need you to calm down for me."

Bakugo attempted to take a deep breath in but each time he tried his body would force it out again in the form of short weak puffs and unrelated words. Somehow, in a brief break between the sharp movements of his neck he managed to turn and look Aizawa in the eyes. Desperate to communicate that he didn't know how to help himself this time. That he was willing to accept the help that he had so readily rejected last time.

"I ca- red riot unbreakable! can't sto-op - fuck off and die. Die! Yoshi!" He desperately huffed out quickly breaking eye contact as his head whirled to the side causing a sharp pain to shoot up into his head.

He felt something catch his hand as it begun to swing violently back towards his chest. It twitched as it was pulled to firmly sit on his teacher's chest, directly over his heart. He noticed that Aizawa's heart rate was elevated causing a twang of guilt to ripple through him. How could he be so selfish and worry everybody? These were people that genuinely cared about him. Not his parents.

His eyes felt like they were glued shut as a bout of blinking tics came over him like a wave. Yet he could still feel Aizawa's chest rising and falling steadily as his heart pumped underneath.

"Another deep breath for me please, bud."

Bakugo shuddered as he managed to draw in a few clear breaths uninterrupted by any vocal tics, grateful for once that he had been found even when he hadn't wanted to be. Although he was already aching and the tics were still far more frequent than normal he felt as if he was slowly gaining back control.

Finally able to breath and sit up straight he lurched towards Aizawa, hand still sat firmly on his teacher's chest. Even when his hand smacked down hard on the adults back he still found that his hug was reciprocated with just as much enthusiasm, if not more, than what he was putting in. For once since this whole debacle began, Bakugo felt like he was ready to talk about what was going on. It was time that he shared the burden that was weighing him down so heavily.

*****

When Aizawa had initially jogged away from training he knew the situation was going to be bad but nothing could've prepared him for the desperation that had encompassed the entirety of his student's being. Shouta knew that he would dream of this moment for years to come despite the research and preparation he had done for when this inevitably happened. He wasn't stupid, he had enough experience as a teacher to know when a student wouldn't accept help until necessary and when that time came he was always ready for them to fall back on him. But there was something about seeing one of the toughest kids he had ever met sprawled on the locker room floor involuntarily kicking and yelling that rattled his entire being.

It had taken a good deal of stress and soothing words to pull Bakugo through the worst of the attack. He had read a lot about them in an attempt to be ready to help his kid but he had never imagined it would be like that. He was sure the intensity was because Bakguo was stressed and alone, left to try and hold in as many tics as possible and that filled Aizawa with an overwhelming sense of guilt. He knew deep down that he had done the right thing. Bakugo would've never opened up earlier and he had tried to be as accommodating as possible while not making it obvious. The fact that he let Bakguo 'use the bathroom' about 3 times a lesson was a prime example of that. But part of him knew he could've done better. If he had just been more persistent and talked to the kid this would never have happened. But he had to realise that what has happened now cant be changed and that they now need to move forward in a way that would enable Bakugo to be comfortable and happy.

Shouta estimated the tic attack had lasted a good half hour before his student had launched himself into his arms. He had returned the rare hug with as much enthusiasm as possible, desperate to let Bakugo know that he was there for him, that he didn't have to do this alone anymore. There was just something about the kid's demeanour that convinced Aizawa that this was finally the beginning of the journey to managing this.

So the two sat there on the floor of the changing room just preparing themselves for the difficulties they both knew they would have to go through in the upcoming weeks. Despite everything Bakugo felt content. He had a teacher who understood what he needed without needing him to explicitly say it. Someone that understood that he found communicating his feelings difficult. And best of all Bakugo knew Aizawa wouldn't mention it later when he begun to sob quietly into his shoulder after he had hit the teacher just a little bit too hard.

"It's alright, Kiddo. We'll sort this out."

*****

As expected, outside the lesson was in no way continuing. All might still hadn't made it down to the field and Iida had limited control over a group of panicked fellow teens. The limit was the hysterical Denki Kaminari that had just sat on the middle of the pitch staring at the rapidly approaching figure of Kirishima. Somehow, as if he had a second quirk, Iida had managed to force the rest of the class into training around Denki even if the effort they were putting in was minimal. The poor teen had even more work cut out for him when Kirishima finally made it back to the field, promptly grabbing the distraught Kaminari and dragging him away causing a second round of questioning to ripple throughout the class.

Meanwhile, Kirishima and Denki had found a rather secluded area to sit down near the changing rooms just in case Bakugo reappeared.

"Denki. Dude. Calm down." Kirishima soothed, patting his friends back. The other boy was obnoxiously sobbing into the red head's shoulder smothering snot all over him. Kirishima had to take a couple of deep breaths to still his racing heart. He was worried beyond belief but he knew Denki was in a much worse situation, knowing nothing about what was going on Bakugo.

"What if I've killed him!" The blonde wailed, pulling back to look at Kirishima with watery eyes. Kirishima paused, confusion flashing across his face.

"Wha- how? What do you mean?" He spluttered.

"I knew this was going to happen some day! I electrocuted him one too many times and now he's having seizures, he's never going to forgive me!"

Eijiro sighed, ruffling his friends hair. It wasn't really his place to be sharing Bakugo's situation but Denki was so distraught he was going to make himself sick. Not to mention the fact that he knew Bakugo would be furious if Denki ever thought his quirk was causing someone unintentional harm.

"That's not whats happening, Denki." The blonde just wailed louder.

"Stop lying Kiri!"

"Bakugo has tics. It's a tic attack, not a seizure. Nothing to do with electrocution." Kirishima finally disclosed, pulling Denki's head to rest against his chest. He would have to tell Bakugo he had told Denki but that was a problem for another time.

"Oh." Instantly the tears had stopped gushing from Denki's eyes. The boy looked like he was stuck between being happy that he hadn't just killed his friend and crying again. But instead he paused, taking a moment to look up into his friend's eyes. "Are you OK, Kiri?"

"I'm just worried about him, Denks." Kirishima replied, allowing a few tears to slip from his eyes now Denki had recovered slightly. "He told me about them a few weeks ago but he was just... he was crying and then just stopped. It's like he thinks he can just pretend they're not there and they'll go away."

Denki leaned over to properly give Kirishima a hug. "Aizawas' helping him in there. He'll be OK, Kiri."

"I just want him to let us in, Denks. Why is he so determined to suffer alone?" Both of the boys were crying now, wrapped in each other's arms desperately wishing for a way to fix all of this.

"He'll come around eventually, Kirishima. He always does."

Chapter Text

Bakugo had been laying face down on his teacher's shoulders for almost 10 minutes before he felt a pat on his back that clearly said "it's time to get up."

And sure enough moments later Aizawa softly murmured, "I think it's time to talk about this, kiddo."

"Die! You fucking extra!" Bakugo quickly bolted off of Aizawa's shoulder, horrified at what he had just said to the man that had comforted him.

"Exactly." Aizawa responded dryly as he hauled Bakugo off the floor despite the arms that were being unintentionally swung at him. Aizawa kept his eyes on Bakugo as he silently followed behind the teacher almost as if he was scared Bakugo would run away any minute. A couple of weeks ago that fear would've been much more warranted. Despite still despising the idea of sharing this weakness, Bakugo knew it was time to talk to someone. He'd failed at keeping it a secret and this was the punishment. Mercifully, Aizawa had led him to the empty staff room instead of the classroom. There was something about sitting in class with all the seats empty that disconcerted Bakugo, the corner seats his teacher chose for them were far more comfortable.

Bakugo pulled his knees to his chest in an attempt to muffle the "blasting off!" that came tumbling out, disturbing the perfect stillness that had settled across the room. Although he was through the worse of the tic attack he still felt the built up electricity residing inside of him, begging to be released over and over again. Other than the occasional vocal tic, the two sat in silence, Aizawa clearly wanting Bakugo to start the conversation. It was fair enough really, last time Aizawa had tried it had ended up with Bakugo yelling at him to 'fuck off' and neither of them really wanted to relive that.

Katsuki paused, looking up to make direct eye contact with the concerned eyes of his teacher. It was clear he already knew, they had talked about it for gods sake, yet Bakugo still found himself wiping the sweat off his hands onto his PE uniform.

"I think you were right." He rushed out while hanging his head, the part of him that was desperate to get it all out into the open taking the lead. When Aizawa still didn't reply Katsuki carried on. "About the fucking tic thing. I just keep doing stupid shit and I don - Kacchan! - don't know why. I don't know what to fucking do Mr. Aizawa. I tried to stop it! I promise!"

Bakugo could practically see Aizawa loosen up, finally letting a big breath free from his lungs. The older man looked so relieved, maybe even prideful if Bakugo's eyes weren't acting up.

"Thank god you told me, Kiddo. I'm so proud of you, I hope you know that." Bakugo felt himself flush red. There was nothing for his teacher to be proud about. All he had done was cause trouble for everybody around him. Before Bakugo could form any sort of argument against the compliment, Aizawa had started talking again.

"Look, Bakugo, I'm no doctor but I think it's pretty obvious to the both of us that you have some sort of tic situation going on." Bakugo merely nodded at Aizawa's blunt statement. "Do you feel an urge to do these things or do they just happen?"

"I thought you said you weren't a fucking doctor." Bakugo snapped. He really wasn't in the mood for being interrogated about the ins and outs of what he was feeling. All he knew was that he's fucking tired and wants to get this over and done with as soon as possible, meaning minimal questioning was needed.

"Would you rather tell this to a doctor confidentially then? It's a perfectly valid option if you don't want me involved." Aizawa said leaning backwards in his chair and crossing his legs. When it was put that way Bakugo decided he would really rather not divulge his soul to a doctor all by himself. Having some support would be nice. Plus, Aizawa had come this fair with him already, might as well complete the story.

"No! It's fine just give me a fucking minute, old man." Bakugo took a deep breath, preparing himself for the moment he had been dreading ever since this started. Actually having to talk about this in detail. "I get urges or whatever the fuck you called them." Just thinking about the pressure that encompassed his entire being the majority of the time sent his body into spasms. He really wanted to go to his room and deal with this alone.

Clearly he looked distressed with the sudden increase of tics because Aizawa spoke up. "They'll get worse when you talk about them. I know it's horrible after you've just had an attack but just try and stick it out for a few more minutes."

"Yeah yea-yoshi! It just feels like a fucking pressure in my neck most of the time but when it gets bad it feels like I have restless le-die extras! leg syndrome all over my body." Bakugo gritted out. He would rather tell the complete truth now and just get the talks over and done with than have to keep coming back to chat about his 'feelings'. "It started after Kamino" He quickly tacked onto the end, desperate to hear if Aizawa had the same theory as him.

Aizawa quizzically tapped his knee while staring directly at Bakugo. "Having both vocal and motor tics indicates Tourette's syndrome but it's manifested unusually late in you." Aizawa was almost mumbling to himself at this point, taking on a pensive expression much like Midoriya's.

"Why the fuck do you know so much about this anyway?" Bakugo suddenly demanded. It was weird how much Aizawa knew, he must've researched it but the knowledge seemed too inbuilt for it to be a recent google search.

"Ah. Well actually he's just coming." Aizawa replied with a small smirk. Bakugo was even more confused now.

"He? What the fuck do you mea-."

"Hey, Little Listener!"

Bakugo paused. Is that fucking Present Mic? Why on Earth is he here? It was bad enough he had to spill his guts to Aizawa, but the loud mouth too?

"Thanks for the hearty welcome you two!" The cockatoo look alike cheered into the silence as he pulled a chair around the corner to join them in a little triangle.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Bakugo practically snarled instantly beginning to suppress his tics again. It was almost a subconscious decision his brain had made after all these months of trying to hide the absurd movements. A sharp glare from Aizawa jolted Bakugo into ticcing again. How the hell did he know?

"'Cause it looks like we have something in common, bud." Yamada said unusually calmly as he pulled off his yellow tinted sunglasses. Katsuki stared at the older man's eyes that furiously fluttered open and shut much like his own and felt a sharp glint of hope crash through him. He wasn't alone. Someone had made it into the pro-hero industry despite this.

"Wha- you?" Bakugo stammered over his words, shocked that he had never noticed. But now he thought about it, he didn't think he had ever seen the man without his sunglasses.

"I wear these sunglasses to hide the blinking tics - not that they're bad or embarrassing! I just know that for me, people being able to see my eyes really triggers them." Yamada explained to the almost shell shocked Bakugo, whistling the iconic bird tune that normally signified his arrival. "And that's a whistling tic, not just a bird joke." He laughed. Bakugo was astonished that the man was so carefree about it all. How was he finding humour in this?

"Hizashi's tics started when he was much younger and have never been as severe as yours but we thought it would be nice for you to know you're not alone." Aizawa finally added to the conversation, looking at the other man with an expression filled with an emotion that Bakugo couldn't quite describe.

"Good old 'Zawa knows all this shi-stuff because the doctors were worried that my tics would increase in severity so he spent all his evenings researching." Present Mic piped up looking very pleased at the burgundy blush that spread across the other man's cheeks. Bakugo had the fleeting thought that the two were cute together. God knows how the rest of the students hadn't caught onto the clearly well established relationship.

"Yeah, and this little shit just decided to somehow not develop any more tics and never let me put any of my hard-earned knowledge to use." Aizawa practically spat back. Despite the venom laced behind the words Bakugo could tell the two were only joking by the grin that slowly cracked across Hizashi's face. They were clearly making an admittedly rather successful attempt at distracting Bakugo from the fear that was running through him. It was clearly a well known fact among the three of them that more distraction meant less tics.

"Now now Aizawa, you need to watch your language around the youths..."

"You say that like Bakugo doesn't have the most foul vocabulary to -"

The two's play argument was interrupted by a shrill bird-like whistle that certainly did not come from Hizashi's mouth. The two bickering adults swivelled their heads around to stare at the rapidly reddening face of Bakugo who had slapped his hand straight over his mouth. Bakugo was horrified. There was no way he had just copied his teacher. His head snapped to stare at Present Mic as the exact same whistle escaped his lips followed by a tongue click which forced Bakugo's body to mimic the teacher yet again.

"Jesus please save me." Aizawa muttered to the ceiling as Hizashi's face practically split with the grin that overtook it.

"You've caught my tic! Bakugo! We're matching!" He bellowed so loudly Bakugo was convinced his quirk must have been involved.

"Mic. Do you need to leave for a second before you two get caught in a circle?" Aizawa asked, clearly wanting the answer to be yes.

"No it's fi-" Another round of whistling from the two of them and a sharp glare from Aizawa prompted the loud man to change his mind. "If you need me just give me a call!"He said before pulling his sunglasses on and scuttling out of the room.

"I'm sure you know about what happens when people with tics meet." Aizawa sighed, clearly only just realising the chaos that this was going to bring to his life.

"I don't want his fucking bird tic!"

"Well you've got it now. Try accepting it sooner than later." Bakugo just scowled at the prospect of 'matching' with one of his most annoying teachers before being overtaken by a rather aggressive bout of neck jerks and whistles.

"Can we hurry this the fuck up? I want to go to bed."

"Alright, alright. We'll keep it brief for today but know that I am always here to talk if you need to." Aizawa started, giving Bakguo a look filled with far too much trust. "You're going to need your parents to take you to the doctors who can refer you to a neurologist. It normally takes a while with the waiting list but if you tell them you're a hero in training they should fast track you."

"Do my parents have to be involved?" Bakugo instantly shot back. His parents would never take him to the doctors about this. The best place they'd let him go would be a fucking orphanage.

"Unfortunately, you're too young to go alone and you can't go through the school unless there's extenuating circumstance." Aizawa said unusually formally, looking at Bakugo with narrowed eyes. "Is there something else you need to be telling me, Bakugo?"

"No." Shit. Was Aizawa onto him? It's not like his situation with his parents was abusive, he would just rather not have the school get all antsy about small things.

"Would you like me to call home and talk to your parents for you?" Aizawa said, narrowing his eyes even further.

"Don't you fucking dare! I can do it myself." Bakugo snapped back, desperate to stop his teacher from complicating the situation. He had to figure out how to do this on his own.

"OK." Was all Shouta had time to respond with as he watched Bakugo hurry out of the room without any further discussion. They'd overcome the first hurdle but he was the sure the next ones would be just as high.

Chapter Text

A small tentative knock pulled Bakugo out of the weird trance that he had found himself in. Finally able to focus on something other than the prospect of talking to his parents, he tiredly yanked his dorm door open revealing an anxious looking red head carrying his bag which he had completely forgotten about. The two stood in silence, staring at each other as Bakugo continued to whistle and flinch, the aftermath of the tic attack still haunting his body.

"You coming in or what then?" Bakugo finally muttered once he realised Kirishima was making no effort to move. Stepping to the side of his doorway, he allowed Kirishima directly into his room. It had been a while since they hung out alone and the idea of it set butterflies soaring through Bakugo's chest, which he quickly and efficiently squashed. He already had enough wrong with him without adding getting butterflies around his very much MALE best friend to the list.

Another rising tingle sent his head shooting up and backwards, bobbing a couple of times in place forcing him to just stare at the ceiling waiting for his friend to close the door. Somehow, before he even had a chance to lower his head he heard the door shut, his bag hit the floor and felt a set of arms encase his body. The sound of a sob tearing through Kirishima's body scared the blonde enough to prompt his body into giving him control of his neck again. The one thing he would admit he isn't good at is comforting crying people.

Bakugo's first call of action was attempting to calm his racing heart which was a spectacular fail so instead he turned to plan B and wrapped his arms around his friend, beginning to rub his back softly.

"uh -" He begun, trying to formulate a comforting speech in three seconds flat but the nerves were making his tics worse. He knew now wasn't the time to be letting them out but he was just so exhausted from earlier that he couldn't help it. "Red riot unbreakable! You're manly. Manly manly." He thanked his body for at least choosing to not tell the crying boy in his arms that he's an extra and should go die. The small victories count. "um Ei. Are you...okay?" He nervously asked as Kirishima seemed to go still in arms before shuddering again.

"Are your tics trying to comfort me?" Eijiro chuckled, burying his head further into the side of Bakugo's neck. There were still tears streaming falling onto his shoulder but Bakugo counted the small giggles as a step in the right direction.

"Well somethings gotta help me out here, Ei." Bakugo murmured, still slowly rubbing the other's back prompting another small wet chuckle to tumble out of Kirishima. "What's going on?" He continued after a few excessively loud whistles broke through the air of the room.

Suddenly Kirishima pulled away from Bakugo's embrace, wiping furiously at the tears that were still streaming down his face. Bakugo sealed the image of Kirishima's red nose deep inside of his brain. "Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to make this about me, I was just so worried and then Denki freaked me out by talking about seizures and then I got thinking and was like oh my god what if it is seizures and you were burning yourself and Aizawa wouldn't let me see you and -" The outpour of words from his friend's mouth left Bakugo speachless. Yet the other boy couldn't seem to stop as he rambled on and on about how worried he'd been, barely breathing before he moved onto his next thought. About how he hadn't known what was going on, how he was just so relieved to see that Bakugo was semi-alright. And with every new worry Kirishima shared came a stabbing pain in Bakugo's chest. He had thought he had been helping those around him by keeping this all of a secret but it was becoming clearer and clearer as the weeks passed by that he was so incredibly wrong.

Therefore, while Kirishima was mid rant, Bakugo took a few steps forward and wrapped his arms back around his best friend. "I'm so sorry, Ei." He whispered, feeling tears creep into his eyes as his friend went silent.

"Wha-? What do you mean you're sorry?" Kirishima stammered. "None of this is your fault, Kats. I just wish that I could've helped you sooner." He felt Kirishima's arms snake back around him, returning the hug.

"But I wouldn't let you help me!" Bakugo said, voice raised. He had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself before carrying on. "I don't want you blaming yourself for something I wouldn't let you do." He continued. "But I'm ready now."

"You are?" Kirishima sounded so hopeful that it solidified in Bakugo's mind that he did the right thing in letting Aizawa talk to him. Sure it would take a while for him to actually muster up the courage to tell his parents but it was a step in the right direction.

"Yeah, I'm sick of whatever I've been doing."

At some point the two found themselves leant against each other on the side of Bakugo's bed, holding hands with their breaths in sync as they just relished in the fact that Bakugo was finally on the road to getting help. But there's never a moment of peace in Bakugo's life, especially now his body had a mind of its own. Against his best judgement, Bakugo was forced to rip his hand away from Kirishima as a bout of tics overtook him. Including the stupid little whistle that had seemed to become a frequent occurrence. Kirishima giggled at the pout that formed on Bakugo's face before reaching over to grab his hand again.

"Where's that whistle from? I recognise it." Kirishima asked, finally ending the peaceful silence that had covered every conversation possible.

"It's fucking Present Mic's. Apparently he has a few tics and I had the honour of catching this shitty one."

"Oh my god." Bakugo turned his head to look at a very shell shocked looking Kirishima. "It all makes so much sense now!"

"Exactly what I thought." Bakugo nodded his head in solidarity.

"So what did Aizawa say?" Of course, Bakugo shouldn't be surprised that Kirishima brought it up, it was the elephant in the room after all. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't just want to relax and pretend this whole mess didn't exist for one evening before shit hits the fan. But after the amount of tears that Kirishima had shed just minutes earlier he felt a strange sense of obligation to share the advice. He had promised himself he wouldn't do this alone anymore after all.

"He told me that I - I'm blasting off - that I need to get my parents to take me to the doctors. He seemed pretty sure that it's Tourette's syndrome." He huffed beginning to turn away from the other to hide his furious blinking but he still managed to catch the strange look that flashed across Kirishima's face. Bakugo had done enough dumb shit around him to know it was a look of deep concern.

"Can't you go through the school?" Kirishima asked suddenly, raising alarm bells in Bakugo's head. Why was Kirishima so worried about him telling his parents? It's not like he had told him about the few incidents that had occurred recently. However, with a sharp jolt Bakugo remembered the day he had called the Kirishima's to pick him up from the park. How the hell had he forgotten about that? It felt like such a pivotal moment in his life at the time but after the chaos of the last few days it had blended into the background, almost like a bad dream.

"I'd have to have extenuating circumstances for that." He muttered back, fully aware of the response he was inevitably about to get.

Kirishima paused for a moment, studying Katsuki's face, eyes lingering on the small scar that still hadn't faded from his cheek, "and you don't have those?" He asked, almost disbelieving.

"No." Bakugo stated firmly.

"Bakugo..."

"I don't!" It was clear he was getting agitated at this point. His tics were steadily getting worse again after just beginning to settle down.

"OK, OK! You'd tell someone though right? If something was going on at home?" Tear began to well up in Bakugo's eyes at the look of compassion that shone throughout his friend's eyes. In that moment he debated spilling all of his worries. Debated asking whether some of the stuff his mother did to him was unusual to finally settle the sea of questions that he sat on. But he held it all in. His home life was relatively normal. There was no point crying to somebody about being a little worried about his mum's reaction to his brain being broken. He settled on nodding and burying his head in his friends neck, mimicking their position earlier. He was eternally grateful to the red head for not mentioning it again that day. Instead talking about small meaningless things throughout the evening and night, beginning to remember how life used to be like before tics took over.

*****

It was a few weeks later and Bakugo was feeling simultaneously more stressed and happy. It was nice to have Kirishima to lean back on when they weren't at school but when they were, he felt so incredibly safe and protected by Aizawa. The teacher never pushed him, instead allowing him to take as many breaks from lessons as he needed (which he was often rightfully forced to take) and making sure his brain was always occupied, which sometimes meant Bakugo got to read some of Aizawa's personally annotated hero analysis books.

But Bakugo knew that neither Aizawa nor Kirishima were happy that he still hadn't spoken to his parents yet. He just couldn't bring himself to go home for the weekend and risk loosing everything, especially after what happened last time. Instead, he resorted to isolating himself in his room at night, lifting up his shirt and precisely activating his quirk. He knew he was the past the point of believing it would work, but there was still that little childish hope inside of him that believed in miracles. But he knew that people were getting suspicious, and that was confirmed when Bakugo clearly went slightly too far in his attempts to keep everything normal.

It was a few days before one of the long breaks where he would be pretty much forced to return home, leaving him no excuse to keep his secret, and the day had been going pretty well. That was until his tics started to get unusually violent. It had started out with him smacking his desk a little too hard, definitely raising a few eyebrows as well as prompting a lecture from Iida about respecting the school. But in his signature style, Katsuki had snarled back before continuing to face the front of the class where he could see Aizawa carefully monitoring him.

A few more punches to his chest and an excellently aimed pen prompted Aizawa to take action. Pausing his writing, he turned around to face the class. "Do you need to step outside for a second, Bakugo?"

"No! I'm -yoshi- I'm fine." Somehow, out of everything he had done today that stupid yoshi noise was the most embarrassing. At least everything else he could pull off as his typical behaviour, aggression and even obnoxious whistling were never that uncommon for him. But cutesy sounds? Definitely a shock for the majority of the class.

"Bakugo, Mr. Aizawa has kindly asked you to step out of the class for your behaviour. I think it's polite for you to follow his advice." Iida really had done it now. Bakugo knew the class president didn't understand his situation but still, what died and gave him power? Like a ticking time bomb, the blond slowly swivelled in his chair to glare at the robotic boy but before he could even take a breath in to prepare the onslaught of perfectly constructed insults Aizawa had intervened.

"It's fine, Iida." He said firmly, shooting a meaningful glance towards Bakugo and turning back towards the board, effectively ending the conversation.

Bakugo continued to silently follow the lesson for another few minutes despite the fact that his tics were getting more and more prominent. He was getting pretty good at playing loud noises off as accidents until he felt a firey tingling rapidly spread across his body, alerting him to a much more primitive need to do something. If he hadn't been able to recognise the familiar tingling pressure of a tic blossoming deep in the new sensation he probably would've carted himself straight down to medical with the way his head and chest pulsed sinisterly.

Bakugo quickly deduced that this was not like any other sort of tic he had had before so sensibly attempted to push his chair backwards to excuse himself from the lesson. He very briefly thought about how Aizawa and Kirishima would be proud of him for knowing his own limit. Unfortunately, he had clearly spoken too soon because before he could even get his legs underneath him his hands shot out in front of him to grip the sides of the desk, causing the table to stutter underneath him, desperate to compensate for the sudden pressure.

"Katsuki?" He faintly heard Kirishima call across the room despite the static that was steadily filling his ears. He couldn't hold off whatever this was for much longer. There was absolutely no way he was going to make it out of the classroom before this took over.

And as usual, Bakugo was 100% correct. Pens flew everywhere as his head collided with the desk causing a sickening crack to echo across the room. Instantly he felt relief flood his body, almost outweighing the pain that was already beginning to spike through his head. But no amount of pain or relief could outweigh the horror that flashed through him. Everyone had seen him do that with literally zero provocation. And judging by the commotion he could already hear ripping through the room, he knew there was absolutely no salvaging this situation.

Not knowing what else to do he kept his head planted firmly on his desk until he felt the now familiar hand settle on his shoulder.

A simple grumbled, "up you get, bud" prompted Bakugo's flight response to finally kick in. Scraping his chair backwards he let himself be guided out of the room by the hand, not once looking up at the confused and concerned faces of his classmates. Hopefully Kirishima would be able to make up a reasonable lie to cover him for now.

As he was led further down the corridor the lights got brighter and brighter aggravating his headache until he was forced to hiss and shy away from the hand grounding him when Aizawa said a little bit too loudly "Midnight! Go cover my class...please?" which was thankfully followed by a much quieter "Sorry, kiddo."

Even once Bakugo had been sat down in dark room with an ice pack pushed against his head, he still felt nerves pulsing through him in sharp waves causing his stomach to twist in on itself. The panic only grew when a particularly sharp pain shot through his head synched up with the twist of his stomach. He really didn't want this to happen in front of Aizawa but the sudden pool of saliva that formed in his mouth prompted his head to shoot up and manically look for the black haired man. Clearly Aizawa had seen that desperate look in too many people's eyes and made a desperate dive for the rubbish bin only just managing to throw it onto Bakugo's lap as the boy violently shuddered and began heaving. Bakugo deliriously realised that Aizawa had definitely seen the worst of him now, yet he was still here patting his back and passing him water. Was this what caring was all about?

Despite the warmth that had spread throughout his chest, Bakugo quickly decided that today was going down as one of the worst days of his life as he resumed staring down at his lap. He attempted to focus on the soothing hand that was still placed on his back and not on the conversation that had been going on since Recovery Girl appeared about 10 minutes ago. She had shone a light in his eye and he had instantly decided to not participate in any conversation that was about to occur.

Eventually his ears registered a door closing and the hand leaving his back. He uncomfortably shifted in his seat, nausea still lingering on his senses before his attention was dragged to the fact that Aizawa had crouched down in front of him.

"How're you feeling, Kiddo?" Bakugo knew the man wasn't angry but he couldn't help but feel like he had inconvenienced just about everybody, even the poor cleaning team. When he was met with barely a grunt, Aizawa continued "Luckily, Recovery Girl has confirmed that you don't have a concussion. The vomiting was just from being overwhelmed." He was met with more silence. "You're worrying me, Katsuki."

Those simple words tipped the still shaking kid over the edge. Tears streamed down his face as Bakguo finally lifted his head to look at the concerned eyes of his teacher.

"What's going on, bud? Why haven't you talked to your parents? We need to get this sorted so you don't get hurt like this again." His teacher was practically whispering to him, all too aware of the chaos that was rushing through Bakugo's mind.

Katsuki took a shuddering breath in before weakly whispering. "I keep thinking its gonna go away...and it just won't. I thought this was something that the league had done to me, you know? Like they'd injected me with something and you'd be able to find a cure..."

"Oh buddy." Aizawa's voice cracked as he leant forwards to incase his student in a tight hug, patting his back. The whole situation was finally getting to the both of them.

"It's not going away is it?" A sob racked through Katsuki's body as he buried his head deeper into the crook of his teacher's neck, the only adult that seemed to care enough to listen to his stupid cries.

"I'm sorry." Was the only response Shouta could think to give while his heart was breaking into two. It was almost like history was repeating itself in front of him. After seeing the same disorder break Hizashi, he wouldn't have wished it on anyone. Yet here he was, watching the toughest kid he knew crack under the strain of it. He would have to stay strong for the both of them, just like he did all those years ago. After a few minutes of desperately trying not to cry, Aizawa continued. "I know you don't want to but you need to try telling you parents this break." He was met with a still silence. "I'll give you my personal number. If at any moment you don't know what to do just call me alright? My bets are on your parents loving you regardless." The small nod he got was enough to convince Shouta that they had somehow managed to jump the next hurdle.

Chapter Text

Bakugo meekly thought to himself that the week had gone far too fast as he walked through the door to his house, relishing only in the warmth that swarmed his shivering body. Aizawa had given him a meaningful pat as he had walked out of the UA gates earlier that day but it hadn't been quite enough to settle his nerves. It was cute really, how even one of the most pessimistic men he knew had faith in his parents. Such a stark contrast to the ever optimist, Kirishima, who had given him about ten watery smiles before they parted ways. The two needed to get together and come together on some nice middle ground. He wasn't going to end up dead but there was approximately a 0% chance of him leaving the conversation with just a doctors appointment and hugs.

As soon as he stepped through the door he could sense how different the atmosphere was to usual. Despite this, he somehow managed to survive the first evening with hardly any harsh words being thrown his way but it was clear that the way his last visit had ended had left a lasting impact on the two adults. The anticipation of sitting there waiting for the topic to be broached was debatably worse than the reprimanding he was expecting. In the end, the desire to escape the awkward situation had caused him to scamper up to his room as soon as possible on multiple occasions. He was disappointed in himself for not just biting the bullet and telling his parents what he needed to. A deep part of him was desperate to open up his phone and send a message to Aizawa depicting his victory in gaining support. But instead he had reverted back to his old ways, suppressing as many tics as possible not caring about the consequences.

It was a couple of days after he had first arrived and he had almost completely forgotten about the daunting prospect when his phone pinged with a message. Just a simple "are you okay?" from Kirishima almost tipped him over the edge that he was dangling his legs off of. He didn't want to admit it but he just felt so stressed. He knew realistically he could ring up Aizawa at anytime and the man would be at his house as soon as the words "I don't feel safe" left Bakugo's mouth. Yet there was an inkling of him that wanted to prove himself wrong. He wanted to believe that his parents loved him just like Aizawa said and this was the best way to find out.

He had originally planned to give himself a few more days to come up with a decent plan but that was all thrown out of the window when he screwed himself over that same evening. He was sat at the then silent dinner table when he had zoned out, forgetting about the situation he was in. He had found himself weirdly enjoying the tense silence that had encased his house. It was a big improvement from the forced family bonding times he was used to. But that didn't last long as he was jolted back into consciousness by Mitsuki's hands slamming down onto the table as she hurried to stand up and loom across the one thing separating them.

"What did you just say to me, brat?" She snarled, instantly quickening his heart rate. He desperately scavenged through his memory, trying to remember what he had said. His question was quickly answered when his mother continued. "How dare you tell your own mother to go die! What the fuck is wrong with you, Katsuki?" Oh shit. He should've been paying attention, but his mind was caught up in the plan he was carefully trying to concoct. Stunned, he swivelled his head to stare at Masaru, hoping to have someone that could possibly save him from this mistake. But to his surprise and utter horror, the man had a thunderous expression on his face. He had really screwed up. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"I didn't mean to! I promise, mum, I promise. Please." Tears sprung to his eyes as she scraped her chair across her carefully polished floor and stalked over to him. It was hard to not notice the wine bottle that shone in her hand. In that moment he knew he had crossed over the precisely painted line by the murderous glint that shone in the tall woman's eyes. "I can't help it." He pleaded as she stood tall in front of him. Panic was crashing through him in tidal waves and he didn't know for how much longer he'd be able to make rational decisions. He didn't think he'd ever felt so scared, not even when he was locked up in a dingy corner of the league of villains hide out.

"Of course you can help it. You just don't want to admit to yourself that you're a terrible, terrible human being. What did I do to get stuck with you?" She spat as she curled one of her hands around his upper arm with a grip that was sure to leave bruises. After being yanked into standing, Bakugo took one last look at his dad who hadn't moved a muscle before he readied himself.

"Mr. Aizawa thinks I have a tic disorder! You can ask him. I can ring him up right now and he'll tell you! I love you, Mum, please please don't do this." He begged, tears streaming down his face. He knew she was at the end of her tether and he had no idea what that meant for him. All these months had been leading to this moment where she snapped. Was Kirishima right? Was this going to be how he died?

"You really think that's going to help, Katsuki? Either way you're fucked up in the head." He knew it shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. He had been expecting her to say those exact words but they still wormed their way into his heart, making themselves at home. Yet somehow, in that moment he decided that was going to be the last thing she did to hurt him. If she could snap, whats to say he couldn't as well?

"You think I'm fucked up? Oh I wish you could see yourself right now!" He was still hysterically crying, devastated at the situation he was in but the adrenaline that coursed through his veins pushed a maniacal laugh to bubble out of his throat. If she killed him, he was at least going to go out with a last act of defiance. "My dearest mother! Can't even handle a child saying some- fuck, fuck off - some nasty words. How fragile is your ego?" The adrenaline was already starting to wear off as his throat began to itch as his voice got louder and louder. What on earth was he saying to his own mother? The woman who had raised him to be the best. He should be grateful for having two parents who at least gave a shit.

"You've been dead to me ever since you ran out last time! Who gets scared of a little pot? Only you, Katsuki! Only you!" Katsuki's eyes widened as her voice raised to a pitch he had never heard from her before. He belatedly realised that he should've shared his problem with her the moment it manifested, maybe then this situation would've never escalated to this point. His head whipped to the side as he felt a warm liquid splash across him only just registering the crash that indicated the woman had smashed the bottle of red wine into pieces just mere inches from his body. He could feel a few pieces lodged in his arm but that was a problem he could deal with later.

Just like how Aizawa had taught him to never do, he turned his head to look behind him, locking eyes with his father who seemed to have only just realised how far Mitsuki was willing to go to have a perfect son. Almost as if in slow motion, he saw his father raise from his seat thrusting his arm out in a failed attempt to stop Katsuki from turning his face back towards his mother. But it was too late. Katsuki barely felt the pain over the shock of the sharp neck of the bottle being dragged diagonally down his face, almost as if it was trying to split him in half. He felt lightheaded as he brought his hand up to his face watching as his own mother staggered away from him. His fingertips came away sticky but he barely cared as a feeling of love blossomed through his chest. His dad was actually helping him. Masaru had his wife locked in a head grip, not that he really needed to as she seemed to have had all of her life drained from her, hanging limply in his arm.

"Get out, Katsuki!" Masaru shouted at him finally acting as the thing that got Katsuki's fighting brain in action again. The young boy, covered in blood and wine, staggered down the hallway practically flinging himself out of the door without a second thought. He didn't think about how insane he must look right how, running at a dead sprint down a posh street in his slippers as the sun was setting. All he cared about was getting as far away from the insane hag that called herself his mother as possible. He was finally beginning to realise that her behaviour was very much not normal.

By the time he had grinded to a halt the sun had completed set, casting him into a world of darkness. His feet hurt and his breaths were coming out in short gasps yet his brain felt so incredibly clear. There was no doubt in his brain about what to do as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and to his ear.

*****

Aizawa Shouta's phone did not ring that often and when it did it was always either spam callers or his annoying yet somewhat endearing husband. Yet this time, it felt like his phone was ringing with a particular urgency, a strong contrast to the relaxing movie night the couple were currently having. He was careful not to disturb the way his husband's arms were carefully slung over him as he slowly reached over to grab the device off the side table. As soon as his eyes focused on the name on his screen he felt himself break out in a cold sweat, stomach dropping. Bolting upright he hurriedly pressed accept call, pulling the phone up to his ear already beginning to get up to put on his shoes.

"Bakugo?" He muttered urgently down the phone. He tried to sound relatively calm as to not panic his student yet he was still shooting panicked stares at his husband who was already running around the house gathering different emergency kits. Yamada was very much aware of the plan to tell Bakugo's parents about the tics this holiday. He was also very much aware of the anxiety it was causing Shouta. He had had to convince the other man that he couldn't just kidnap the kid way too many times before they both settled on preparing for the worst with these first aid kits.

Shouta's panic only raised when the other line of the phone stayed silent. All he could hear were the ragged gasps of his student. Was he still at the house? Was he in a situation where he couldn't talk? Aizawa wished to all heavens he could've taken Katsuki out of this situation far sooner but the kid was just too damn tight lipped.

"Kiddo? Are you alright? Are you able to talk?"

"Uh so..." Aizawa's heart soared as he heard his student's voice echo through the receiver. It would be a lot easier to find him now he knew he could talk. "You were fucking wrong."

Aizawa paused. "What do you mean? Talk to me, bud."

"Telling them was an awful idea, Aizawa. Should've just kept it a fucking secret." The simple sentance almost sent Aizawa into cardiac arrest as he felt his heart stutter. It didn't help that his brain instantly started concocting the worst possible situations.

"Where are you, Bakugo?"

"I have no fucking clue." Shit, shit, shit. He should've never let that kid go home, no matter the rules.

"Can you describe your surroundings to me?" He asked urgently, already stepping out of his front door leaving Hizashi to get the house ready.

"Uh...fuck you mum!" Aizawa instantly began running at that, thinking Bakugo was still around that wretched woman. "Sorry, sorry that was a tic. I ran really far and now I don't know where the fuck I am."

The reassurance didn't stop the teacher from running as fast as he could. This wasn't a time to be taking a leisurely walk. "Can you send me your location?"

"Oh yeah." Shouta was very concerned at the way the kid laughed as he realised the simple solution. In this situation he should be expecting tears, meaning Katsuki was most likely in shock. Not good. Finally, after what felt like an age his phone pinged, showing a little flashing light just a few minutes down the road. He swallowed down the worry of how far the boy had run, instead stepping his foot on the gas.

"I'm ten minutes away. Any pressing injuries we need to think about?" He hoped to god he wasn't about to be hit with a response like 'oh yeah just like ten stab wounds, no need to worry!'

"Nah, I think I'm fine." Was the optimistic response which met Shouta, yet there was a nasty part of him that suspected that wasn't quite true. He'd eat his capture scarf if the boy was completely unscathed and telling the truth.

"Just stay on the phone with me, okay kiddo? I'll be there as soon as I can." He didn't care how far over the speed limit he was, as long as he got to his kid as soon as possible.

Chapter Text

Aizawa hadn't let him hang up the phone once they had established his location, so he settled on not so delicately placing the device on the floor next to him. He could still hear Aizawa occasionally mumbling reassurances and timings but the effort required to pay attention and process the words was far too great. In fact, Katsuki couldn't quite remember when he had ended up sprawled on the pavement, but he wasn't surprised with the way his legs were shaking uncontrollably.

A small grunt of surprise left his closed mouth when he felt something sickeningly warm and wet drip down his chin and onto his hand. Earlier, he hadn't quite realised how much he was bleeding but now the adrenaline was wearing away the sting all over his body was increasing exponentially. Not to mention how the seemingly perpetual wetness on his face was messing with his senses. When had he started feeling so hot? No. He was definitely cold. Either way he was sure he was sweating buckets.

Katsuki slowly turned his head to stare at his phone as Aizawa's voice rang through the phone yet again. "You still with me, Kiddo?"

It was a good question really, Bakugo had to ponder on his answer. He was sure the world doesn't usually spin around this much. It almost felt like he was moving despite the cold steady pavement that definitely resided below him. Catching him off guard, an overwhelming nausea surged its way through his body, spreading until it sounded like static was rushing through his ears. The sensation of his whole body dangerously teetering to the side was enough to make him finally register the situation he was in, adding panic to the mix.

"Katsuki? I'm nearly with you, hold on." He could barely make out the words that were coming from the receiver next to him yet he was still able to feel bad that he hadn't replied.

"Uh-" He began. His brain felt sluggish, miles behind constructing the sentence he was trying to convey. "Aizawa?" He was probably slurring his words but he didn't have time to care as he only just managed to catch himself from a particularly big sway to the side. "I think I'm gonna faint."

If he was in any way more conscious than he was in that moment he would've made a mental note of the beautifully colourful string of swears that left his teachers mouth. "Don't panic, Katsuki. Put your head between your knees. I am literally just around the corner."

Okay, Bakugo told himself. It was an incredibly easy task. He knew how to move his head, of course he did. But anytime he tried to move he would dangerously kilt to the side, feeling one step closer to conking out. He felt like he was fighting off sleep after a week long marathon of educational movies.

Through the haziness that was increasingly engulfing his mind, he vaguely registered the sound of a door slamming and feet skidding across the floor. There was definitely a few instructions shouted at him as well but the static in his ears had swelled to a peak. Somehow, as if it was some kind of magic, his world immediately began to sharpen as a large hand grasped the back of his head finally shoving it between his knees. He could hear his own laboured breathing as well as the panting of Aizawa just infront of him so at least he had gained back one of his senses. After a few seconds a bottle of water was thrust into his hands, thankfully already open since his hands had started compulsively shaking.

"Take a few sips and then put your head back down."

He reluctantly obeyed the order, still trying to fight the nausea that resided in his chest as well as the dizziness that he was very much still feeling. But as soon as the cold water slid down his throat he felt the last of the fog leave his mind. He had never been quite so grateful for water as he was in that moment. He gave himself a few more minutes to recover before attempting to lift his head back up. He was starting to feel embarrassed by the whole situation and would really rather hide his rapidly reddening neck and ears from his teacher. Now he had the capacity to form a coherent thought, he knew the episode was brought on by panic and not his injuries. He was a hero in training for gods sake, he should be able to deal with these situations without panicking himself into passing out.

"Absolutely not, buddy. Keep your head down." Bakugo was very tempted to protest but there was a part of him that knew he didn't really have any statement to stand on. He was currently the one pathetically crouched on the pavement of some random street after all, not to mention his opponent being Aizawa who was very clearly in dad mode.

Instead he grunted and welcomed the damp cloth that was gently pressed to his face, deciding not to question where Aizawa was pulling all this shit from. He was appreciative for the hand that held the cloth, not even insinuating that he should hold it there himself. A bone deep exhaustion had settled into his body and all he wanted was for the day to be over. Despite this, his body still managed to find the energy to do the most inconvenient things, clearly doing everything it feasibly could to work against him. He reaction time was far hindered by the situation he was in so he was forced to grit his teeth as the glass lodged in his arm screamed whilst being brushed against Aizawa. Arm firmly set in a defensive stance in front of his face he robotically ticked, "fuck off, mum! I'm blasting off so fuck off!" He just had to sit there, accepting his fate and simply wondering if it was possible to be any more embarrassed

"I'm not your mother, Katsuki. You're alright." Aizawa's voice rumbled softly next to his ear as he felt the cloth press against his face again.

"I know you're not my fucking mum, I didn't choose to say that shit." Katsuki snapped. Despite the care that Aizawa was showing him despite what he was saying, he still felt annoyed that his body was speaking for him. He didn't want his teacher thinking he was actually traumatised enough to be mistaking a 6 foot man for his 5 foot aggressive mother. Aizawa was silent for a moment before patting Bakugo's knee.

Katsuki was extremely pleased to get asked the question "do you think you're okay to get in the car?" The cold air was starting to seep through his clothes and he would pay a lot of money to be able to wash all the rapidly drying blood off of his face. He didn't feel like blessing his teacher with a verbal response, so instead pulled himself to his feet to make a beeline for the car. Immediately he stumbled forward, feeling his knee's trying to buckle underneath him as they shook in place. Luckily, before his face could meet the floor, he felt Aizawa grab the top of his arm yanking him upright. He hissed at the way the glass twisted in his arm but continued his way to the open car ignoring the fact that Aizawa was pretty much carrying him.

He protested, swatting at Aizawa's hands, as the man did his seatbelt for him like he was some fucking baby. But his disapproval apparently held no weight as Aizawa continued around to the drivers side completely unfazed. What Bakugo wouldn't know is that Shouta was far too busy cursing himself for not trusting his first gut instinct, to care about the petty arguments Bakugo was trying to cause.

*****

The car ride had been short and filled with completely meaningless chatter. The only thing mentioned that was related to the whole situation was Bakugo's repeated apologies for the blood he was slowly dripping all over the seat. Of course, Aizawa had brushed off every comment about it and carried on chatting about the cats he owned and all sorts of things that Bakugo thought were completely irrelevant. But he allowed his teacher to have the few minutes of blissful normal conversation, he had done so much to help him after all.

Once they had arrived at a small but sweet looking house, Aizawa had practically flung himself around the car to chaperone Bakugo inside. Despite the fact he was being babied, something that would normally set him into fits of rage, Katsuki didn't fell an inkling of annoyance in his system. It was nice to know that someone cared enough about him to come pick him up from a completely random location and deal with his idiotic 'medical incidents' without him even facing any consequences.

The front door had been flung open before the two had even made it to the steps, revealing a very distressed looking Present Mic. Katsuki was given zero time to hesitate, being ushered through the house immediately and pushed down onto a clearly well-loved sofa. He pathetically held his bloody hands up just below his face in an attempt to avoid staining the material. He gave himself a moment to look around the room while the adults had a very hushed conversation. He noted the adorable pictures of his two teachers together that littered the house, Aizawa actually smiling in most of them. From what he could tell, the house was a lot more personal and homely than the one he had seen on the school site. Something about the fact the two had to split their belongings between houses just to look after some unruly kids made Bakugo feel strangely guilty.

"We treat this house like a holiday home." Present Mic said from behind Katsuki, making him startle. "ah sorry sorry, didn't mean to scare you. You just looked curious." The loud blonde laughed uncharacteristically quietly. Bakugo dropped his eyes downwards, suddenly embarrassed at how personal it must feel for his teachers to have a student inside their home. The embarrassment was quickly replaced with a giddy excitement as Bakugo locked eyes with a small cat . Katsuki paused for a second, staring in absolute amazement as it sniffed his leg before crawling onto his lap. Instinctually he reached out to run his hands through the short grey fur, delighted at the purr that he was rewarded with. Realising what he had done, he immediately paused.

"SHIT! Oh my god I'm so sorry, I just got blood all over your fucking cat."

To his utter horror, he instantly felt tears well up in his eyes. It had been such a long day and everything hurt. He just wanted to get into bed and sleep without getting into any more trouble.

"woah, Bakugo! It's alright, don't panic. It's not hurting him." Yamada quickly strode over trying to soothe the boy on his sofa, careful to not remove the cat from Bakugo's lap. He tried to reach his hand over, attempting to wipe away any stray tears but tragically unsurprisingly, he was met with Katsuki violently flinching away from him.

"What's happened?" Through the blur of tears, Katsuki saw Aizawa run into the room and crouch down in front of him.

"He's just got blood on that cat. Not a big deal, right Shouta?" Bakugo tensed, waiting for the man to finally snap. But instead of being met with screaming, a cackle echoed throughout the room. What the hell was he laughing about?

"Jelly doesn't care. Look, he's already asleep the lazy bastard!"

The shock brought a complete end to Bakugo's crying.

"What the fuck did y-yoshi you just say?" He said, surprisingly quietly despite the tic that interrupted him.

"That he's a lazy bastard? 'Cause he is and we all know it." Aizawa replied.

"Jelly?" Katsuki prompted. Who the fuck call their cat Jelly? He felt a slight accomplishment from the laughter that erupted from Present Mic. Clearly he wasn't alone in his opinion.

"I named him!" The cockatoo practically squealed in delight, leaving Katsuki feeling dejected that he was the only one that thought it was a ridiculous name. "We got him when those stupid jelly packs were the only thing Shouta would eat."

"Just wait until you meet the others." Aizawa butted in. "They're a lot younger and more energetic so Midnight occasionally catnaps them to entertain her nieces and nephews. They'll be back on Monday."

Bakugo loved that he didn't feel obligated to reply. Instead, he softly smiled and continued to stare at Jelly softly snoring on his lap. He had picked up on the way his teachers were talking to him as if he was staying and that was enough for him to feel an indescribable sense of safety. That coupled with the calmness of his tics allowed him to feel almost relaxed for once. So, he sat there quietly and obediently as his teachers fussed over him, applying ointments and bandages. Barely even flinching when they begun picking glass out of his arms. He was grateful for the fact they worked quickly and efficiently while still keeping up a conversation that he was somehow a part of without speaking.

While Aizawa and Yamada were clearing away everything they had used, Bakugo finally managed to pet Jelly without smearing anymore blood on him. He whistled as the cat nuzzled his face deeper into Bakugo's stomach, purring as Katsuki's smile only grew. Not even the soft smile that he caught Aizawa trying to hide could discourage him from showing as much love as possible to the furry being that had chosen him.

He had already begun yawning by the time he was handed a bowl of ramen as well as a jelly packet, which admittedly did bring a smile to his face. Although he wasn't nearly as amused as Yamada who was forced to sit down to survive the laughter that was wracking through him. Unusually, he allowed the smile to remain on his face, a part of him wanting to show the two men that he appreciated what they had done for him.

However, when Aizawa gently asked, "can you tell us what happened?" he elected to ignore the question. He knew he was being annoying but he was desperate to just pretend nothing had happened, even if it was for a few hours.

But as the silence grew, so did the guilt. In an attempt to find a middle ground he hesitantly said, "I don't really want to talk about it right now."

And miraculously, neither adult pushed him for answers. Instead leading him to a bedroom and telling him they could talk about it whenever he was ready, which he was surprisingly okay with. His last thought before drifting off to sleep in the soft covers caught him by surprise. Is this what family is?

Chapter Text

It was still dark when Bakugo bolted upwards, tangled in soft sheets, sweating and gasping desperately to fill his starved lungs. Ripping himself from the mass of bedding, he stumbled towards the floor, clutching at his chest as he finally managed to grab hold of his surroundings. His breathing evened out quickly as his mind came up blank with what he was so scared of. He knew he had had an awful nightmare, he hadn't woken up like this since he was first kidnapped. But no matter how hard he scoured his brain he couldn't remember what is was about, only the sickening fear that lingered in his body.

He stayed silent for a moment, waiting for the sound of angry footsteps that would surely come thundering down the hall at any moment, before remembering where he was. Either he was extremely lucky and he had made next to zero sound or Aizawa and Mic were incredibly deep sleepers. After a few minutes, he deemed it safe to crawl over to the table where his phone sat charging, reaching up and snatching it down towards him.

The 6:30 that shone off his screen shocked him somewhat. He didn't know when he had gone to sleep in the first place but this was a relatively late start for him. Normally he would have pulled himself together and left for a run around an hour ago, but he couldn't really do that right now. The logical other option was to go back to bed, but even as his eyelids drooped he decided he would rather do anything else. The nauseating fear was still clogging his throat and he had zero desire to relive what had caused it. So instead he pulled the duvet off of the bed, wrapping it around himself while he sat crosslegged on the floor. He briefly debated whether he should text Kirishima about everything that had happened, the other boy had been so worried before they parted ways for the holiday after all. But as soon as his mind wandered back to the events of yesterday he felt tears prick his eyes and the familiar electricity shoot through his body. That could wait for another day.

It was finally beginning to hit him that this was it, he couldn't go back there anymore. He didn't want to go back there anymore. But the understanding that his own mother hated him still filled his body with an overwhelming sense of grief. Which is exactly what prompted him to shrug the duvet off of his back and pull up his shirt. Deep down he knew he shouldn't be doing this, that it wouldn't work. But he was so angry at his own body for doing this to him. Sure, his home life wasn't perfect before all of this had happened, but the fact he had no control over what had tipped Mitsuki over the edge filled him with anger.

Therefore, as one last attempt to gain control over his rapidly crumbling life he pressed his steadily heating hand to his scarred stomach. With every whistle, every twitch of his neck, every involuntary movement or sound, he activated his quirk just a little bit more, hunching over himself as he softly whimpered over and over again. He had no idea how long he stayed like that on the floor, time seemed to blur together when he was like this, but the sound of his door creaking froze him in place.

"Bakugo, we're getting worried." Shit, shit, shit. His entire body had frozen in place, fear coursing through his veins. He could vaguely remember a voice coming from the door as well as knocks increasing in volume. But something in past him had decided that it wasn't a pressing issue. God, he was so stupid. He tried to open his mouth but yet another idiotic tic replaced the 'no' he was intending to shout.

The announcement of "we're coming in" still wasn't enough to shock him out of his stupor that left the physical representation of his shame and anger on show. He just sat there, hand still poised over his stomach, as the door in front of him swung open. He wasn't sure when tears had started falling down his face, the dryness of his lips indicated hours ago but the looks on his teachers' faces prompted a whole new wave of them to begin falling.

"Bakugo, oh my god!" Yamada exclaimed, finally prompting the teen to drop the hem of his borrowed shirt.

As he begun to curl in on himself, head covered by his arms and between his knee, he saw Aizawa striding through the door and towards him while Yamada booked it down the corridor. These past 24 hours have officially become the definition of his worst nightmare. This is the last thing he wanted, to have them assume he was doing that. He wasn't self harming, he was sure of it. This was a completely different situation. But he was well aware of what it would look like to anyone that saw it. As he sniffled he felt a hand fall softly onto his back, it felt like it belonged there now with how many times it had comforted him.

The silence encasing the room was almost deafening. Why were they just letting him sit there and cry? Why weren't they shouting at him?

Eventually, he blurted out, "it's not what it looks like!" He whipped his head upwards, wide eyes searching for his teachers' reactions. But to his surprise, the emotion he saw in his eyes wasn't anger, it wasn't even sympathy. His heart lurched as he recognised pure concern written all across his faces. In fact, Aizawa looked like he was almost in physical pain himself as he looked him up and down.

"It's okay, it's okay." The black haired man soothed, rubbing Katsuki's back as hiccups wracked through his body.

"I promise! I swear I'm not -yoshi!" He almost reached for his stomach again before stopping himself. He hated when his body did that. Blurting phrases was one thing but nothing frustrated him more than when a tic changed the whole meaning of his sentence.

"It's alright, Bakugo. I think we just need to have a chat, yeah?" Aizawa was the polar opposite of what Bakugo felt like right now. He was so calm, even as the sound of Yamada dropping something in his state of panic echoed throughout the house.

Aizawa placed his hands under the still balled up Bakugo's arms and tugged gently, encouraging him to stumble upwards. Scrubbing at his eyes furiously, he was led down the hallway and pushed lightly onto the sofa, reminiscent of last night. He hissed as his hand brushed against the bridge of his nose where the cut passed through. He hadn't really thought about what they had done to treat the wound last night but it definitely wasn't feeling any better this morning. Aizawa simply took a hold his hands and encased them in his own, rubbing soothing circles as his husband reappeared in the room seeming to finally have everything he needed.

"Alright kiddo, could you take your shirt off for us?" Aizawa asked whilst waving over Hizashi who stood in the doorway clutching a first aid kit. Katsuki paused, the idea sent a wave of dread through his body. "Or just lift it up a bit? Just need to clean you up like last night, that's all." Aizawa amended. The simple fact that Aizawa was willing to adapt to what Bakugo needed gave him the courage to lift up his shirt just enough for them to see the damage he had caused.

He pretended not to see both of his teacher's wince and proceeded to look away as they slowly pressed ointments and disinfectants against his skin. "I wasn't self harming." He stated yet again. "I know what it looks like, but I wasn't."

Aizawa simply hummed before putting down the cotton ball that he had been using. Present Mic stopped for a second, clearly debating on whether he should say what was on his mind. "It looks like you've been doing this for a while." He finally blurted, looking relieved when Bakugo didn't burst into tears again.

"How about you tell us what happened last night? I'm assuming its got something to do with this." Aizawa suggested, watching as Bakugo clearly hesitated. In an attempt to make him more comfortable he stated, "Hizashi, I think you should go ring Recovery girl, this cut on Katsuki's face is starting to look a bit infected." Bakugo was incredibly disgruntled at this idea and clearly looked it because Aizawa tacked on the end, "and let Jelly in here."

As soon as Bakugo had the cute cat firmly planted on his lap and he could hear Present Mic distantly chatting on the phone he took a deep breath. "It was my fault." He began, looking up to see the face of pure anguish that covered his teachers' face.

"I can say with 100% certainty that that's not the case, Katsuki. Nobody deserves this treatment no matter what they've done." Aizawa argued. Bakugo tensed, he clearly didn't understand. It was his fault, if only he had just been paying attention.

"You don't understand!" He blurted before he could stop himself. "I wasn't paying attention, I should've been. I told her to die, Aizawa! I tried to explain it was a tic, I tried to get her to call you, but she fucking flipped! If I was just paying attention I could've suppressed it and none of this would've fucking happened!"

"Take a deep breath, Katsuki." Aizawa prompted, waiting for Bakugo to calm down enough that he had stopped shaking. "None of this is your fault, she should've taken the time to listen to what you were saying." The teen only responded with a slight nod of the head, clearly not quite believing the statement. "How did you end up hurt?"

"She smashed her wine bottle next to me." Bakugo mumbled.

"Which explains the stains and glass in your arm." Aizawa concluded. "What happened to your face?"

"She fucking swung at me with it. My dad managed to pull her away long enough for me to run." Bakugo ripped his hands away from Aizawa's, repeatedly clenching them into fists. He didn't understand what he was feeling in that moment, but he never wanted to experience it again. "She was trying to kill me!" He concluded, hiccuping as he desperately tried to hold his tears in. Aizawa sat there for a moment, trying to not look as disturbed as he felt. He'd been a teacher long enough to have dealt with some difficult situations with kids but Bakugo was so different to any other he had taught. Normally just telling the child it wasn't their fault was enough, but clearly he would have to dig deeper to convince Bakugo.

"If Kirishima's mum did that to him would you believed he deserved it?" Shouta almost cringed as he asked this, knowing his student was still far too vulnerable for him to be prodding at these sorts of questions. But part of him was genuinely scared. Considering the state they had just found Bakugo in, he needed to do this now.

"Fuck no!" Katsuki shot back before falling silent. He knew what Aizawa was getting it. That he didn't deserve anything his shitty mother did. That he never would've been able to prevent what happened. But if only he had just conditioned himself a little more, maybe it would've worked. "I've been conditioning myself." He begun hoping it was enough to wipe the quizzical look off of his teachers' face. But when it didn't, he forced himself to continue. "I've been burning myself when I tic." Katsuki paused, not daring to look into Aizawas' eyes. "Pain always stopped me from being a brat when I was a kid so I thought maybe if I replicated that for long enough everything would go away." Bakugo didn't look up from his lap where Jelly rested, not even when he felt two pairs of arms wrap around him. He wasn't sure when Present Mic had reappeared but he guessed it didn't really matter, he would hear everything from Aizawa later on anyway.

"I hope you never have to feel like you have to do that again, Katsuki. No matter your behaviour, whether you're ticking or not, we'll love you like they should have. We'll start filing a case so you never have to go back there again. Is that alright?" Bakugo nodded weakly at Aizawas' promise. He hoped he never had to feel like that again either. He was finally seeing how caring and loving adults can be and recognised that his Mum had never acted like that towards him. Maybe he deserved to feel like this every once in a while, crushed in a pile of hugs and not scared to be who he was.

"If you don't get off me in the next 5 seconds I'm gonna tic and your face is right in the way, old man."

*****

It was later, when Recovery Girl had healed Bakugo to the best of her ability and he was slumped on the sofa quietly sleeping that she pulled the anxiously vibrating duo aside.

"Excuse my language but what the fuck were you two thinking?" She demanded, tapping her cane on the kitchen tiles. Her piercing eyes stared into each of the adults souls while Yamada stuttered and Aizawa fidgeted. "He should've been in the hospital the moment you saw him! How could you look at that cut on his face and think to yourself 'ah yes, he can go to bed with that'."

"Well-"

"Let me finish, Shouta!" She snapped. "I've healed it enough so that he doesn't need stitches but it's going to scar, not to mention the rest of his body!"

"Alright, Chiyo. We understand." Aizawa soothed, desperately trying to placate the older lady. She was lovely and all, but admittedly, Shouta was terrified of her when she was angry.

"If we'd taken him to the hospital we legally would've had to call his parents as well as the police. You saw the state he was in! It would've finished him off!" Shouta tried to shoot his best death glare to his husband as he whittled off all the reasons they hadn't taken him to the hospital. The two weren't stupid, they very nearly whisked Bakugo out of the house as soon as he had set foot through the door. But the very quick hushed conversation they had had left them convinced that they would be able to deal with the situation without medical professionals. Which was admittedly a steep ask but they had tried their best. After all, there was more than the physical injuries to think about.

Aizawa was surprised when Chiyo simply sighed, looking almost defeated. "Alright, I get it." She stated. Adding on an indignant "I do!" When Shouta gave her the most disbelieving look he could possibly muster. "Just call me immediately next time instead of letting it stew overnight."

"Will do!" Hizashi cheered as he attempted to steer her out of the door. They would have to have her round for a cup of tea in the next few days as thanks, but neither of them really wanted to deal with her current mood. All they wanted to do was sit around and watch as Jelly cuddled up against the sleeping Bakugo and make sure nothing else hurt the finally peaceful kid.

"And I'm enrolling both of you in extra first-aid training courses!" Was the last thing they heard as they closed the door to the house of their growing family.

Chapter Text

Aizawa had a mini heart attack when his phone displayed the name Kirishima when it rang a day later. Taking one look at the time had caused his breath to hitch, his screen clearly displayed 4am which even he barely considered morning. Instantaneously he had ripped through his memories, he hadn't noticed anything off about the red-head recently but then again he had been so wrapped up with Bakugo's situation. What if he'd missed something important?

Immediately he was thinking of solutions, they would have to buy a new house for starters. Now they had Katsuki, their home was housing four people, two of which were troubled teens. The small building definitely wasn't big enough to take another. On the thought track of kids, Hitoshi was supposed to get home today which would probably add another layer to Bakugo's insecurities. Both boys had been made aware of the situation but Shouta couldn't help but worry about if they would get along. Bakugo was incredibly delicate at the moment and Hitoshi had never been the most emotionally gifted of people. He knew that would have to wait though as he pulled the phone up to his ear.

"Kirishima? What's wrong?" He quickly said, sitting up even straighter when the boy sounded mildly panicked.

"Mr Aizawa! It's about Bakugo." Aizawa let out a small sigh of relief before slumping back into the bed and flashing a quick thumbs up to the groggy Hizashi who promptly fell back asleep. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Bakugo was safely sleeping just a few walls over. "I'm just gonna come out and say it. I think his mum is doing some really horrible things to him, right? And, and I sent him a message like 2 days ago! Just asking him if he was alright and he hasn't responded. And like I know it's Bakugo but that's not normal for him...and I was just wondering if you could go and check on him? I think you'd be better suited to the situation-." Shouta was astonished as the words just kept coming through the phone. Clearly the boy had been stressed about this for a long time. Looks like he'll be putting another one of his kids into therapy, in fact the whole class would probably benefit at this point.

"It's alright, Kirishima. There was a bit of an altercation and I'm currently housing Bakugo. He's fine, just a bit shaken." He responded, trying to be formal and not give anything away. This was a sensitive situation and he wanted to give Bakugo as much control as possible.

"What happened?" Kirishima had blurted again before Aizawa could even begin to carry on.

"I don't think it's really my place to say, kiddo. I'm sure Bakugo will contact you soon, if he doesn't, I'll pester him for you."

"Oh." Aizawa couldn't help but feel guilty at how dejected the kid sounded. "That's fine! Sorry for bothering you."

"You did the right thing, Kirishima. I'm always here if you're worried about something. Although, I think I'm obligated to ask why you're up so early." He reassured, if there was anything he wanted the class to learn, it's that they should speak up if they think something is going on, preferably a bit quicker than Kirishima had. It's always better to be safe than sorry.

"Oh! I always get up this early to go running!" Kirishima said enthusiastically. He seemed to be getting back his usual cheer which definitely encouraged Shouta.

"Tha-" A sudden crash resonating throughout the house interrupted Aizawa just as he was about to reply. He turned his head, wide eyed, to look at Hizashi who had bolted upright in the bed.

"Mr Aizawa? Is everything okay?" Clearly the noise had been loud enough to be picked up by the phone. Not good.

"Got to go, Kirishima. Ring me if you need." He hurried before shooting out of bed along with his husband. As he staggered through the door he hoped that it was only Jelly knocking over a plant pot as usual.

*****

Yet another nightmare plagued night had Bakugo covered in sweat as he jolted awake. He knew it was the same dream as he'd been having the nights before. He couldn't remember much but the lingering feeling of a searing hand clasped tightly around his neck identified it from any other mundane dream.

He sat on the bed for a seemingly endless amount of time, panting as he tried to regain his composure. Every time he woke up like this, the contents of the dream became clearer and he hoped to god that this would be the last time. Just the thought of the hand that he could still ominously feel brought his attention to the fact that his mouth was uncomfortably dry. His vocal tics were coming out strained and raspy, grating against his sand-paper like throat.

Stumbling out of bed he made his best effort to open the door as quietly as possible, conscious of his teachers that would be sleeping just down the corridor. The last thing he wanted was them waking up and finding him out of bed when darkness was still shrouding the corridors. So, he tip-toed down the stairs and across the corridor, only glancing into the kitchen before he swiftly shuffled in. His one aim was to get a glass of water and get back to his room as fast as feasibly possible.

He was used to sneaking around like this at night, his parents had never been happy when he ventured out of his room at this time no matter how thirsty or hungry he was. Mitsuki was an incredibly light sleeper, so he grew up knowing exactly how to make his footsteps as quiet as possible. In hindsight, it's probably why he's so good at stealth missions now, however, in this scenario his injuries were hindering his skills considerably. The scabs forming up his arms and over his stomach pulled dangerously as he stretched to the back of the shelf, he couldn't quite mask the hiss that broke through his teeth.

Even worse, it had only been a few minutes yet he could already feel tics pushing tightly against his chest throat. He hastily pulled a cup down as a whistle accidentally slipped past his lips, it wouldn't be long until the rest came out as well. How on earth had he held them in so well mere months ago?

His breath caught in his throat as he turned his back to the cupboards. He could swear that a shadow had just caught his eye as it passed by the door. Standing stock still he waited, listening for signs of someone else in the house. Before long, he turned towards the tap, eager to be able to lock himself back in this bedroom now his stomach was twisting with nerves. But as his eyes passed the length of the room, he glimpsed the shadow like figure hobbling towards the fridge. Almost as if the figure could sense his eyes, it turned around almost as if it was staring directly into soul. Bakugo could do nothing but freeze as he tried to scope out an escape plan.

"Oh. Hi." The glass slipped from Katsuki's hand, shattering with an almost deafening crash. That was definitely not Aizawa or Yamada's voice, there was no question about it. "Shit! Oh my god are you alright?"

Katsuki couldn't hear the concerned words of the figure, all he could comprehend was that it was getting closer to him. Stumbling backwards, he felt his back hit the counter, trapping him. Whatever was in front of him was getting closer and closer and he could do nothing but push his back uncomfortably into the marble behind him. He didn't know the house well enough to run, and there was no way he knew where to hide, there was absolutely no escaping. Sliding down the cabinet, he whimpered as he placed his arms across his face preparing to defend himself.

He heard the pounding of feet before anything else. There were definitely two sets, both of them practically flying down the stairs. Eventually, after what felt like hours, he heard them skid around the corner and the room was suddenly illuminated with a blinding light. He waited, head still tucked under his arms, for the sounds of a fight to start. For any sort of recognition that someone was currently looming over his balled up figure.

"Hitoshi, you're back already? Are you alright?" Katsuki paused. That was definitely Present Mic's voice and there wasn't a single bit of fear lacing his words.

"uh yeah, I'm fine pops. I don't think he is though." The voice replied. Pops? He slowly lifted his head, removing his arms, and was practically assaulted by the amount of purple that filled his view. To his complete and utter surprise, Shinsou - the guy from the sports festival, was crouched down in front of him, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Mind-fuck? What the hell are you doing here?" He asked, completely baffled as to why some random kid from the general class was standing in his teacher's kitchen at some ungodly hour. However, his question appeared to fall on deaf ears. Well, only one set as Yamada went scrambling to find one of his stashed pairs of hearing aids. Aizawa seemed to be watching his husband with a mix of confusion and anger. Katsuki couldn't lie and say he wasn't beginning to panic, he was stuck in some weird fucking situation and his eyes couldn't help but wander to the glass scattered around him. They were going to be so pissed at him. "What the fuck is going on?"

Aizawa seemed to consider the question carefully as he stared at Katsuki. "Hitoshi is our kid, Katsuki. I thought Hizashi told you?" Bakugo just stared back in silence, subtly reaching around to pick up pieces of the glass without showing any change in expression.

Yamada finally seemed to be fully tuned into the conversation, squawking from across the room, "I thought you had told him!"

Shouta sighed deeply, dragging his hand slowly down his face. "I'm sorry Katsuki, we clearly miscommunicated. Are you okay with- oh my god don't do that!"

Bakugo instantly looked up from the floor, eyes wide and hands full of glass with a heart rate that was rocketing through the ceiling. "uh-" He stuttered but Aizawa was already rushing over to him. He went to lift himself off the floor, however, both of them had seemed to have forgotten the person that was sitting right under his nose.

"Is it alright if I take your hands Bakugo?" Shinsou asked incredibly delicately, making it seem like it wasn't a big deal at all. But Katsuki felt like he was frozen in place, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Should he drop the glass? Hide the evidence? Make a run for it? He turned, owl-like, to face the purple haired teen. He would know what to do.

Slowly, as if he was trying to befriend a stray cat. Shinsou reached over and clasped the underneath of Bakugo's hands, coaxing him to open them and deposit the shards in his waiting hands. With precise and predictable movements, he placed the glass behind him where Aizawa and Yamada could get at it without encroaching on Katsuki's space.

"Am I in trouble?" Bakugo tentatively asked, feeling as if he was just a kid again. He would never dare to act like this in school, it was probably quite a shock to Shinsou, but he still didn't quite know where he stood in this housing situation.

"Oh god no, kiddo! I didn't mean to sound angry, I was just worried you were going to hurt yourself." Aizawa answered while Yamada seemed to scoop the last bit fragments off the tile into a pan. "How're his hands looking, Hitoshi?"

Shinsou ever so delicately turned Bakugo's hands around as if he was inspecting the most important thing to exist on planet earth. Suddenly Katsuki wished he would replace a certain other purpled haired dickhead in his life. He found himself asking himself yet again, is this what family is supposed to be like? No fear around doing something wrong. Only expecting care and consideration.

"They're a bit scraped but nothing too bad."

"Alright well how about you go to bed and you two can talk properly when it's a bit more of a decent time." Yamada suggested, prodding the clearly sleep deprived boy to leave with a final nod of the head. In the meantime, Aizawa beckoned Katsuki over to the table as he opened yet another first aid kid, the two seemed to have an endless stash of them across the house.

"Let me patch you up real quick and we can have another chat yeah?" He murmured as he started quickly wrapping the blonde's hands, despite working as a hero course teacher he had never patched up one kid so many times in such a short amount of time, he prayed this was the last time Bakugo got hurt under his care.

"What had you down here in the dark, bud?" Hizashi walked over to the table, leaning over it to stare at Bakugo with an expression that showed nothing but pure curiosity.

"I was fucking thirsty." Was Katsuki's short response, it seemed to be telling enough however, as Aizawa and Yamada locked eyes for a particularly long time.

"Alright kiddo, time for some house rules." Shouta began as he pushed the first aid box to the side. He knew the things he was about to list weren't really considered rules, but he also knew that the housing situation Bakugo came from consisted of reams of boundaries. If that is what he was used to, that's what he was going to feel comfortable with. "Firstly, you can eat and drink anything, anywhere, anytime and without asking. Got it?" Katsuki nodded, almost salivating at the idea of being able to snack at anytime. "Secondly, you break anything - we're not gonna be mad. Just step away from it so we can clear it up safely." He paused for a second, "anything you wanna add Hizashi?"

Yamada didn't have a chance to answer however, as Bakugo meekly pointed out, "you don't have many rules."

"Nope we don't!" The second blond enthusiastically, whistling and giggling at how Bakugo copied him. "The aim is for you to be as comfortable as possible, so just ask for anything you need! However, unfortunately the one thing that is absolutely non-negotiable is the little purple zombie that occasionally resides in the room next to you."

"Hitoshi has been our son since he was 8, Katsuki. There's no reason you two won't get along but if you really don't feel comfortable with living with another teenager, or us, the foster care system is always an option." Aizawa replied, watching carefully to gauge Bakugo's reaction. It was obvious that all three of them knew the foster care system was not all it was cracked up to be, Yamada and Shouta knowing first hand some of the horrific experiences Hitoshi had been subjected to.

"Well I won't be here long anyway, right? So is doesn't really matter what I pick." Bakugo was only mumbling, the idea of ever leaving the loving family he was currently part of physically pained him. But he knew he would have to go back to his old life soon.

Aizawa and Yamada shared yet another look. "We meant it when we said we wouldn't let you go back there, Katsuki." Shouta was trying to tread carefully, well aware of how sensitive this topic was as well as how tired they all were.

"Oh."

"And~" Yamada sang. "We would love for you to stay with us!"

"Permanently." Shouta quickly tacked on. "If you do pick to stay with us we can't guarantee the official adoption will be a quick process, but we will try our damn hardest to get it as soon as we can."

A pregnant pause formed as Bakugo stared at the wall, brain slowly processing the offer that was being held out to him. "You really mean it?" He eventually chocked out, desperately trying to hold back tears yet again.

"Of course we do!" Yamada cheered.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." Shouta stated.

"Oh thank god!" Katsuki practically shouted, flinging himself across the table to encase his two teachers in a hug, not even thinking about how uncomfortable that would've made him just a few days ago. All he could think about was the fact he would never have to live with his mum again. Instead of shouting, he would get Yamada's obnoxious laugh, Aizawa's grumpiness and whatever Shinsou turned out to be like. It sounded like pure bliss.

Chapter Text

The next time Bakugo's eyes opened, light was seeping through the small gaps in the curtains and there was a hesitant tapping at his door. Assuming it was just Aizawa trying to check he was still alive, he grunted and buried himself deeper into the covers, nestling his head between the abundance of pillows. It wasn't often that he actually felt the need to sleep in, but the soft duvet that encased him made the prospect of leaving its warmth feel almost sinful. He only lifted his head, eyes barely open, when he heard the door click and felt a presence ominously looming over him.

"I got tired of waiting, bitch." Shinsou stated before throwing himself onto the end of Bakugo's bed without a moment of hesitation. The sleepy blonde was astounded to say the least, the two barely knew each other, yet Shinsou seemed to have no worries in nestling in next to him. He didn't fail to notice however that the other boy moved cautiously, pausing and assessing whenever he saw even the smallest hint of a grimace flash across Bakugo's face.

"uh-"

"Your mums a bitch too, huh?" Shinsou questioned, going as far as proceeding to lift up the duvet and wiggle his way underneath.

"Yeah, I guess she is." He mumbled back, looking to the side when Shinsou began prodding at his side.

"Budge up, you're taking all the space." Katsuki paused for a good minute, staring intently at the other boys' tired face before begrudgingly shuffling a bit to the side. Something about the situation filled him with a warm sense of longing - well, maybe it was more like satisfaction. The two had never really even met, yet the atmosphere wasn't awkward in the slightest. He felt...at home.

A whistle broke through the quiet air as Bakugo's body began to wake up more. The stupid noise had become more and more noticeable in his day to day life and he was sure it was about to get 10 times worse now he was living with the source. He knew Shinsou wouldn't care, yet he still tensed in apprehension of a reaction. Maybe he was expecting a question or maybe he was expecting him to morph into his mother and start hitting. But instead, the other boy breezed straight on, not even blinking at the unusual sound.

"Dad and pops said you're staying." Shinsou said it in a welcoming way, no trace of any malice in his tone, yet it still lit a spark in Bakugo. Did he want him to leave? Was this air of kindness an elaborate act?

"Yeah well I don't think I'm really welcome home anymore." He clarified, wanting Shinsou to explicitly know that this wasn't really his choice.

Shinsou hummed, seeming to be considering his next words carefully. "What happened?" He settled on. Not the most subtle or delicate ways of asking, but Bakugo admired the straight forwardness.

"Mum flipped out about me ticking. Smash, wine fucking everywhere and I was out the door." Bakugo thought it was a pretty accurate description of what went down. Maybe in the future he would feel more comfortable talking about the nuances of the event.

"Fucking bitch." Shinsou stated, venom dripping from his words. Bakugo merely nodded in solidarity, glad that someone else agreed.

"How did you end up here then?" He tentatively asked back, unsure whether he was allowed to ask.

"Meh, I don't really remember much but my parents didn't like my quirk and my mum decided a muzzle was the best course of action." Katsuki wondered how he could say it so casually, even as the boys hand came up to trace along his mouth where a faint scar resided. He hoped that his scar would fade like that soon. "Dad - Aizawa - found me on a job and then wouldn't let me out of his sight."

"Sounds like him." Bakugo chuckled, remembering how Aizawa's eyes never seemed to leave him as soon as things started looking awry.

"You know, he wouldn't stop talking about how worried he was about this kid in his class to me?" Bakugo looked over in shock, watching as a smile tugged at the other boys' lips. "I'm glad they managed to save you as well." Katsuki was convinced that if Shinsou continued to talk like this the he would end up crying. The confirmation that they were happy to have him in the house, that they'd been waiting for him, filled him with an indescribable feeling of joy. "Anyway, lets go get breakfast, I'm starving."

Katsuki smiled as he threw the covers off of them and raced downstairs laughing and pushing Shinsou as he went, if they were going to be brothers they were gonna do it right.

*****

Downstairs, Bakugo's mood was quickly crushed when Aizawa mentioned Kirishima had called "sounding extremely worried". In all honesty, he had completely forgotten about that small text Kirishima had sent and he hadn't checked his phone since. The thought of having to look any of his friends in the face and tell them what was going on made him feel sick to the stomach. And it wasn't even like he could pretend it hadn't happened either with the way his face looked.

"How about we change your dressings and then you can give him a call or something?" Mic had suggested lightly, trying to make this seem like it wasn't the huge deal that Bakugo saw it as.

Katsuki had scoffed and shoved the remaining of his breakfast into his mouth allowing Yamada to gently peel and replace the squares covering his stomach, stoically ignoring the way Shinsou's eyes flashed wide while looking at the skin. When it came to the man uncovering his face, images of Shinsou tracing his own scars flashed into Bakugo's mind and in that moment he made a rash decision. "I want to see it." He stated, clearly leaving no room for argument.

The whole room went quiet, Aizawa dropping the cutlery he was drying and hastily crossing the distance between them. "Are you sure, bud? Maybe you should wait until it's healed a bit more." He argued despite knowing it was a lost cause.

"No. I want to see it."

And that's all it took for him to be steered and stationed in front of a wall by Shinsou proclaiming, "if he wants to see it he should." With the boys' hand on his shoulder, he lifted his head and stared at the mirror. He didn't even look like himself with the way his hair drooped and the eye bags that seemed to have carved their position under his eyes. He regretted his decision more than ever as soon as he saw the scar, however. He tried to not show his immediate disgust but he couldn't help the tics born out of the abundance of emotion that burst out of him. His hand smacked his chest over and over, stomach twisting as his eyes traced the long and thick jagged mark that sat diagonally across the length of his face. It wasn't thin and pale like Shinsou's. No, it was red. Angry. Ugly. Forcing himself to rip his eyes from the mirror he stalked back to the table, not uttering a single word as Mic covered it back up for now.

He knew that realistically it didn't need a bandage on it anymore, Recovery Girl had healed it enough that it could close up by itself. But he didn't protest the covering, it was a layer of protection between his secret and everybody else. Even so, the stark white material would raise questions among his friends whenever they inevitably hounded him to meet up with them. And that is exactly why he dug his phone out of his pocket and started messaging the group chat.

"Are you messaging Kirishima?" Aizawa asked gently.

"I might as well just tell the whole fucking group while I'm at it." He huffed not even surprised when messages immediately began flooding his phone. To be fair, he didn't think he'd ever sent a message on that chat before. "Losers are apparently already on their way down to Ei's so I'll see you later." He paused for a second, unsure of himself. "Is that alright? He only lives like a 15 minute walk from here I think."

"Of course, bud. Just message us when you're there and on your way back."

Bakugo already had his hand on the door handle, heart stuttering with nerves when he asked one last thing. "Do you wanna come, Shinsou?" They all knew it was a question born out of desperation. This was something Bakugo had to do without babysitting.

The purple haired boy unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile that crept onto his face before he answered, "next time."

He was ticking madly by the time he was out of the door, nerves mounting as he thought about the conversation to come. If he walked a little bit slower than usual, no one had to know.

*****

When he made it to Kirishima's front door he immediately knew everybody else had already arrived. It wasn't even because he's extremely perceptive. Nope. You could just hear the absolute bedlam they were causing from a couple of houses down the street. Staring at the wood his mind was brought back to the day right at the beginning of his whole dilemma. The feeling of hope he had so momentarily felt when he had seen the door that was so swiftly crushed. The wandering hands -

"Bakugo! You came!" He must've been staring into space because next thing he knew the door had been flung open by an overly enthusiastic Denki. Instinctually he went to cover his injuries, not that he could hide anything so big. "Holy shit man! What happened to your face?"

Feeling the familiar itch, Bakugo let his head fly backwards a couple of times. He guessed there wasn't really any point in trying to suppress them anymore considering what he was planning on doing. Despite the dull ache and embarrassment the tics caused, it was nice not having to worry about the consequences of suppressing. It would be even nicer when everybody knew and he could just move on with his day without worrying about questions.

"Just let me in, idiot." He snarled, pushing through the frozen blonde, leaving him standing in the doorway in his confused trance.

Katsuki had never actually been to Kirishima's house, yet he had no trouble finding the rest of the group by the noise that seeped through the walls. The living room was homely with plants littering every raised surface, the junk food that covered the remaining space made it clear that Aiko wasn't home. Katsuki stared at the bundle of joy in front of him for a moment, memorised as Eijiro threw his head back in a hearty laugh that somehow brought the word 'beautiful' to his mind. Unfortunately, he didn't have long to stall and take in the scene before he whistled, unintentionally gaining the attention of the room just as Denki stumbled through the door behind him.

"Alright fuckers, listen up! I have something to say." He stated loudly, feigning confidence by strutting to the front of the room. It didn't take long for his eyes to wander back to Kirishima, relatively unsurprised when the red head looked suspiciously close to tears already. A quick scan of the room showed similar expressions on all of his friend's faces. He butted in as soon as he saw Mina's mouth open. "Don't you fucking dare! All of you! Let me speak first."

"But-"

"Please." He said, hoping no one noticed the quiver in his voice or the way his hands were shaking. He whistled again, wincing as the dull thud of his fist hitting his chest resonated throughout the room. He was admittedly disgruntled about the appearance of that particular tic, the permanent bruise residing below his collar bone was less than ideal. Even less ideal was the look of confusion and panic that flashed across his friend's faces. Although that could also be because he had actually just been relatively polite to them. "Look - fuck! fuck off! - just - fucking die! give me a minute." He didn't particularly know why this was making him so nervous, he was pretty certain they all knew already. But the idea of actually having to sit there and tell them his parents hated him and he was permanently fucked up was setting his tics off even more. He tried not to think about the possibility of falling into a tic attack right then and there.

"Take your time, man." Sero said patiently, bundling a terrified looking Mina under his arms. Bakugo was grateful for the support, but the fact he was scaring his friends hurt far more than he would like to admit.

Whistling once more he began, trying to make the story as short as possible. "Look, basically I've had symptoms of tourette's syndrome - Yoshi - for a while now. Which you probably already fucking noticed. If you didn't go - die! - get your fucking sight checked." He paused to take a deep breath, quickly thanking his lucky stars that his vocal tics were slowly beginning to calm down. "My mum got super pissy about it and came at me with a wine bottle so now I'm- blasting off- living with Aizawa and Mic." Twisting his head a couple of times he let out a sigh of relief. Telling them about Mitsuki was the part he dreaded the most. His explanation had come out stunted and awkward, but at least he got it out.

"And Mic?" Denki questioned slowly making Bakugo chuckle. Of course out of everything he had said he had picked up on that.

"Don't even get me fucking started." He said, laughing at the look of realisation that slowly crossed all of his friends' faces. He knew there were things they were dying to ask, he didn't blame them, but he was happy that they seemed to be holding back the onslaught. He had a question to ask them first after all. "Do you all know what fucking tourette's is anyway?"

He was incredibly surprised, possibly concerned, at the chorus of yes that hit him full force in the face.

"Dude, Google is a wonderful place and I think we all found some answers there when you started - ." Sero gestured vaguely to the blonde's twitching body, chuckling lightly to himself. Katsuki guessed it wasn't really much of a stretch for them to have figured it out. After all, he knew for a fact that Kirishima had enlightened Denki, and he was probably the only one who wouldn't think to look it up.

They all stopped when they heard a whimper come from Kirishima. "Did your mum really do that to you?" He whispered, tracing the line the bandages left on his own face while barely holding back the tears that swam in his eyes. Bakugo stood there, mildly panicked as he watched the rest of the groups lips begin to wobble. He didn't consider the fact that they might not have actually realised what must've happened for him to end up in their teacher's care. Hell, he had only just come to terms with how bad it was himself. "I'm sorry Kats. We should've done something." Kirishima cried, clambering to his feet.

"I never imagined-" Mina was crying to hard to finish her sentence as she too hauled herself out of Sero's arm and began staggering towards Bakugo.

Before Katsuki could say or do anything else he was surrounded by his friends, being showered in hugs and kind words. And as much as he wanted to enjoy the kindness that he had craved for so long, he couldn't help but feel a sense of suffocation crawling up his throat. Their hands were everywhere, his back, his head, his shoulders. His eyes ticked shut and all he could imagine was the cloaked man in front of him. What would have happened if he hadn't been able to activate his quirk? What if it was just that one degree colder and he had been rendered completely useless?

His breath was getting shallower but he tried to return the hugs around him, patting shapeless blobs in the hopes that he was providing comfort to those around him. He could feel his more violent tics building up, the head jerks and smacking that he couldn't unleash on his friends.

"Uh guys let me go, I really need to tic." He eventually spluttered out when he felt like he couldn't hold back any longer. He was released from the circle just in time as his head flew backwards, barely missing Sero's face. He hated himself for panicking in a situation so mundane, but everything was still so new to him. He made a mental note to work on hanging out with his friends more often.

"How about we watch a movie for now and ask some questions later? Is that alright with you, Bakugo?" Sero suggested, clearly noticing how Bakugo was becoming more and more distressed by his increase in tics but still giving in to his own curiosity.

"Sounds good to me!" Denki shouted, already sprawling himself across the sofa. So, that was how the evening was spent. Movies, snacks and tentative questions. By the time the first movie had ended Bakago felt like his friends knew just as much as he did, and that somehow came with a sense of freedom. He didn't have to hide anymore, they knew everything and still loved him regardless. Although he still had one secret, enabled by Kirishima's hand that somehow found his. No one would have to know that one small feeling of his. He was completely content with keeping that between him and the red head practically glued to his side.

Chapter Text

The phantom sensation of hands skimming Bakugo's body still hadn't left him even once he had left Kirishima's house. They were like ghosts, becoming all too real whenever someone brushed against him, his heart rate spiking dramatically every time in response. It had barely been an hour before the huddle of bodies around him had began to feel suffocating. The stifling heat and lingering contact became almost unbearable far too quickly and, somewhat unusually, Bakugo instantly recognised his limit. He had been quite proud of himself as he shuffled onto the floor, instantly feeling just a little bit of relief that made all the difference to his mood. But that hadn't helped ease the guilt that lined his stomach when he saw the smallest ounce of sadness flash across his friends faces as he moved out of reach. At least he had somewhat explained himself, revealing that he was struggling to not tic and would rather avoid accidentally "smacking the shit" out of them. He hadn't been far off of the truth, but the way Kirishima's eyes strayed to Katsuki's shaking hands revealed how obvious it was that he hadn't been completely honest.

When it had been time to leave, he had initially been glad. There was only so much 'cuddling' he could handle, he hadn't completely changed after all. Both Sero and Kirishima had offered to give him a lift back to where he was staying, which he had obviously denied. He only realised how naive he had been when he was barely 5 minutes into the walk back home, noticing how violently his body was shaking. Wiping the quickly accumulating sweat off of his hands and onto his jeans he unceremoniously whipped his head around to look down the dark street that carried on infinitely behind him. But he couldn't see much except the pavement just below him and the weeds that burst through its cracks. He hadn't realised how quickly it was going to get dark, or how much that would effect him. He wasn't sure why images of that night underneath the bridge were haunting him now, he had survived a good few months barely even thinking about it. He tried to reason to himself that there was no need to be hung up about it, nothing had even happened. But he barely thought about what he was doing when he broke into a run, feet pounding rhythmically against the floor desperately trying to stamp down his own paranoia. He tried not to obsessively check over his shoulder, but he still startled at every shadow. He passed a few bridges, running a little faster each time in response to the way his stomach dropped to his feet. He was trying to be careful with his tics, attempting to suppress anything that would draw attention to him, but his energy was so consumed with running. He was only able to wince whenever they echoed through the night that hung around him.

Somehow, despite everything his brain was telling him and every shadow that menacingly creeped around him, he made it back to the small tucked away house with absolutely zero problems. He was still out of breath, with his emotions pulled taught when he yanked open the door. But the open arms that welcomed him immediately washed away the unreasonable thoughts and ideas that his brain was so cleverly concocting . Of course, the hot chocolate and cookies he was handed helped with that.

Before long he was settling into bed with a grateful sigh, stomach warm with food and familiarity. In all honesty, laying in a bedroom just down the hall from his teachers' felt like a dream to Katsuki. One that he could wake up from any minute leaving him with a heart full of loss and grief. Everything around him felt different, leaving a constant sense of uncertainty rumbling around inside of him, yet somehow he still felt the happiest he had in years. Maybe he really could begin to move on from everything that had happened. With just a little bit of help this time.

*****

It was mere hours before his unusually positive attitude had been squashed, throwing his mind back into turmoil. He woke up when it was still dark, just like every other night he had spent in this house. He would've been fine, he was getting used to waking up with his heart racing and his palms sweating and could calm himself down pretty quickly. But almost as if the world was playing some sick joke on him, this time he remembered everything. The images of the dingy villains base shone crystal clear in his mind as his stomach twisted in on itself, nausea zapping sharply through his body. It was almost like Dabi was there with him, hand clasped tightly around his neck again. Burning.

Scrambling out of the stiflingly hot covers, Katsuki hit the floor with a dull thud. Instantly he reached his own hand to grasp the back of his neck, desperately trying to confirm that the scarred man wasn't there to take him back. But it was hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. Burning fingers branded themselves into his skin, setting his nerves alight as he frantically rolled across the floor to get himself free. He was fully aware that he was thrashing in place, screaming as his own fingers desperately locked around his neck trying to protect against the hands and fire that swarmed his body.

He could barely remember what had happened, all he knew was that he was suddenly in the dark basement again. Completely alone. He told himself that no one was coming to save him this time. He knew no one would want to and he refused to get his hopes up. Even he agreed that it would be better if everybody just forgot about him. He suddenly became conscious on how it was getting harder and harder to breath as time ticked on, his throat burning as air harshly pulled its way down the tight pipe. It felt like his entire body was convulsing with the effort needed to drag each laboured breath into his tightening lungs, churning the nausea that resided in his stomach each time.

It only got worse when he heard the sound of a door distantly banging open. If he thought he was scared when he was alone... he was wrong. The knowledge that they had finally come for him came with a panic that could only be described as earth shattering. He wasn't sure if he was even breathing anymore, his entire consciousness focused on waiting for something to happen. Anything at all.

Everything around him sounded muffled, he could only just make out the sounds of scrambling feet and distant yelling that seemed to get closer to him before retreating again. Were they all coming for him? What if the cloaked man had joined up with the league of villains? That seemed like a logical pairing... was his mother here as well?

His body jerked, arms flying outwards from his foetal position, when he registered something touching his shoulder. He could feel the words "don't touch me" rip out of his throat but he couldn't even hear himself past the rushing in his ears and his own heavy breathing. Placing his hands over his face, he realised he was trembling like a leaf caught in a harsh winter wind. He didn't know what to do. He had zero plan and clearly zero capability of pulling any decent escape off. He had failed so horrifically last time and that was before his body decided it was a good idea to throw any chance of stealth out of the window.

He felt a few tears leak through his fingers as he waited for the burning sensation to come back, for any sort of pain to spike through his body. But instead, the exact opposite occurred. The sound of his own whistle pierced through his senses as his body was shocked out of its trance like position. He could feel ice cold water trickling down his back, leaking from the hard, freezing source that sat firmly on his neck right where the scorching hand should reside. Were they preparing him for something even worse?

He could already feel his breathing beginning to quicken again, rattling breaths grating against his already dry throat as he imagined everything they could be planning to do. He just wanted everything to be over already.

"Katsuki!"

His thoughts halted for just a second. He couldn't imagine why they would possibly be calling him by his given name. He tried to listen to his surroundings, desperate to learn more about the situation he was in, but all the sentences he could make out were fragmented, interrupted by his own panicked breathing and tics. That was until he caught hold of some specific words that began chipping away at the nightmare he was sitting in.

"You're at home!" Was the first thing that got him thinking. What did they mean home? Were they assuming he was joining them in the League of villains? Or was his mother here to take him back?

"Yamada - ice." Had they caught his teacher too? He couldn't decide if that would be a bonus or not. A selfish part of him didn't want to die alone.

"Buddy! Kiddo!" Instantly, as if a dam had burst, cool breath flooded his lungs, his head spinning as his body finally began to regain composure. There was only one person in the world that would call him that, and that person was exactly who he needed right now.

He hadn't even noticed that his eyes were shut, but when they flickered open they were met with a pair of glowing red eyes. Reaching forward, ignoring how badly his hand was shaking, he grasped the mans' top, pulling himself up. "We need to get the fuck out of here!"

Katsuki watched as concern briefly flashed across his mentors face. "You're alright, Kiddo. You're just coming out of a flashback. You're at mine and Present Mic's house. It's seven in the morning and most importantly, you are safe"

Only then did Bakugo notice how Aizawa was supporting his neck, pushing something that was cold and solid firmly against the area. Weakly, he let go of the shirt still clasped tightly in his hand and glanced at his surroundings. As he looked around, panic surged through him whenever he saw something that he mistook for a villain. A coat, the chair that resembled the one he'd been tied to, a purple rug. And each time he could feel his eyes lingering on the object, fixated on making sure it wasn't what he thought. It didn't take long for Yamada to spot what was going through his head, instantly striding across the room and moving everything Bakugo glared at out of the room.

"You don't have to do that." Bakugo's voice was weak and scratchy, hurting him to use. But he was still determined to communicate his thoughts.

"We want you to feel as comfortable as possible. It's just some silly furniture." Present Mic replied resolutely, striding out of the room with the chair while Aizawa watched him carefully.

Over his teachers' shoulder Bakugo noticed a blur of purple rush into the room.

"I've got some more ice." Shinsou stated calmly, striding over to take the now warm bag from his dads hand.

Katsuki found himself not minding that they were looking after him like a child, something that would normally annoy him to no end. He put it down to how shaken he was still feeling as he lifted himself up and buried his face into the crook of Aizawa's neck.

"How did you know ice would help?" He asked as the coldness on his neck was renewed. It was working wonders, keeping him grounded to the reality that he was currently in and warding off any unreasonable thoughts that swam into his mind.

"You were clutching at your neck and chanting hot." Katsuki didn't reply to the abrupt statement. He could tell that Aizawa hadn't wanted to tell him by the way he had hesitated. He suddenly wished he hadn't asked. The fact he couldn't remember doing that disconcerted him immensely. He had already lost control over his vocal and motor movements. Last thing he wanted was to also lose control over his memories.

Before he could stop himself, he felt warm tears begin to stream down from his eyes onto his teachers' shirt. "I'm sorry." He hiccuped, suddenly embarrassed at the situation he found himself in.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, buddy. Nothing to worry about, just need to get you to some good old fashioned therapy is all." Aizawa muttered, tapping his back rhythmically.

"I was never this fucked up before! I don't understand -" He grunted in annoyance as whistle broke through his lips, interrupting his sentence . "I don't understand! I've never had these shitty panic attacks and shit before and-"

"I would be far more concerned if you weren't feeling like this, Bakugo." Yamada's voice got closer to Katsuki until he felt another hand rest onto his shoulder. "You've just been pulled out of a highly abusive situation, your body finally has a chance to feel what it needs to."

"And you're not fucked up!" Bakugo recognised Shinsou's voice breaking through the sounds of his quiet sniffles. "Don't say that about yourself, man."

"He's right, bud. Much less fucked up than baby 'toshi who once shat in the cats litter box!"

"Oi! What the fuck, Pops? You were supposed to take that secret to your grave!"

Katsuki finally lifted his head from Aizawa's shoulder, slowly turning to look at the flustered purple haired teen. "You did what?"

"I was a kid!"

Bakguo's head flew backwards, but not unintentionally this time. No. Raucous laugher ripped through his body, wheezes of breath only just making it into his lungs. It didn't help that he could feel Aizawa vibrating with repressed laughter in front of him, or how he could hear Shinsou spluttering above him. This time he didn't feel panicked by the prospect of not being able to breath quite right, instead he was filled with pure happiness as his body shook.

"I can't believe you've done this to me." Hitoshi scoffed, cheeks red. "He's never gonna let me live it down!"

"Well it got the desired effect!" Yamada protested, chuckling to himself.

"Alright, alright, settle down you lot." Shouta patted Bakugo's back twice, determined to get the hard bit over and done with so that they could all go sit down and relax together. "What happened, Kiddo?"

Instantly, Katsuki went quiet. Would they be able to tell if he left out the perv that featured strongly in his nightmares? He didn't mind admitting to his fear surrounding the League of Villains, but something about telling them he got felt up by some stranger made him feel something extremely unpleasant. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or horror but he was resolute on not feeding the feeling.

"I had a shitty dream about the League of Villains coming to get me again." He finally admitted, staring down at his lap.

"And you felt like you were back there?" Aizawa asked, leaning forward, clearly trying to make sure he wasn't slipping back into the memory.

"Yeah." Katsuki chocked out, focussing on the fact his fami- his guardians surrounded him, determined not to embarrass himself further. He refused to look up, instead listening to the silence that encased the room for a few moments.

"Alright, kiddo. Let's go and watch some shitty TV together, yeah?" Aizawa said, standing up and pulling Katsuki with him.

"Come on 'Toshi! Come make popcorn with me. Oh! Oh! Oh my god we can make a blanket fort!"

Katsuki listened to Shinsou's protests get quieter as he was dragged swiftly down the hallway by Yamada, waiting for the sound to disappear before turning towards Aizawa again.

"You're not gonna make me talk about it?"

"We'll talk about it when you're feeling better. Come on now, we gotta make sure those idiots don't burn the house down."

Just a couple of hours later, Katsuki hid his teary eyes as he cuddled into the expertly made fort. He finally felt like he had a safe space. A family. He thought to himself that he would go through hell and back just to live with these guys forever before chuckling. After all, that's exactly what he had done.

Chapter Text

When he first ventured downstairs early in the morning, just a day later, Katsuki was met with an ecstatic Aizawa and Yamada crowded around the kitchen table, not making breakfast as usual. It wasn't an unusual sight to see the pair giddy and smiling for no apparent reason. However, no matter what, they were always solemn in the mornings. The only person in the house that could even tolerate times before noon was Yamada, and he clearly knew from past experience to keep quiet when everybody else had only just risen from the depths of sleep. Today though, even Aizawa was beaming ear to ear, grinning down at a pack of paper that was clutched in his husbands' hands.

"Why good morning, son." Sang Present Mic, waggling his eyebrows as Katsuki stepped further into the kitchen, confusion etched across his still tired features.

Smacking his husbands shoulder, Aizawa snatched the pack of paper and handed it to Katsuki, nodding as if urging him to read the very official looking document. Bakugo's hands shook as his eyes scanned the top of the paper, immediately stopping and focusing on the big bold header.

PROVISIONAL CUSTODY RIGHTS

Excited silence encased the room, only being broken by the whistles Hizashi and Bakugo triggered out of each other. Katsuki looked up at the two men, shoulder's flying up to meet his ears before dropping again. There was no way this could be correct. He hadn't been to any court hearings, it had only been a few weeks since he had left his home. Yet here he was, standing in the homeliest kitchen he had ever encountered, custody papers with his name at the top in his own two hands.

"What does this mean? Is it-?" He asked quietly, trailing off as his head flew backwards, not even caring as he cricked his neck in the process. What would this mean for him going forward?

"Well, it means we're not currently kidnapping you." Aizawa's face split into an even wider grin as he mentioned this, clearly proud of his 'kidnapping' abilities.

"Always a bonus, right Shouta?" Yamada nudged Aizawa in the ribs, apparently quite hard given the fact the poor man stumbled sideways, barely missing the counter corner.

"In all seriousness, it basically means we can be your legal guardians until the adoption fully goes through." Aizawa tried to continue, pulling himself back to standing, graciously only glaring back at his giggling husband.

"How did you get it so fucking quick?" Katsuki blurted, leaning across the counter to stare at the two men.

"Provisional custody is pretty easy to get through the court, since it's temporary." Yamada drew air quotes around temporary, scowling, probably at the idea of having to ever see Bakugo leave their care. "Although being two pro heroes teaching at UA definitely sped some things along. And~" Hizashi dragged on the syllable until Shouta smacked him. "We've been working alongside the same cops that helped us with Hitoshi so they already have the proof that we're not like goldfish killers or something."

"What-"

"Don't listen to him, Katsuki. You'll learn to just breeze past comments like that." Aizawa butted in, still looking just as concerned at his husbands' choice of words as Katsuki felt. "Anyway, this little document means we can take you to the doctors without your parents permission."

Katsuki's head tilted to the side, cogs rapidly turning in his mind. "Please say this means we can go get some shitty professional to tell me I have what we all already know I do."

"Essentially yes. Dunderhead over there-"

"Oi!"

"-got excited and booked an appointment for a couple days time already. But if you don't feel ready to go we can easily reschedule." Aizawa finished, finally turning towards the fridge to grab some food for breakfast, obviously trying to make the hidden question seem casual.

"Might as well just fucking get it over and done with." Katsuki stated, beginning to walk out of the door to wash his hands of nitroglycerin as soon as Aizawa started setting food on the table.

"Can you go wake 'Toshi while you're going in that direction please?" Yamada's voice followed him, loud and echoing, yet not in a way that Mitsuki's ever was. He didn't feel scared or pressured. It was simply a request. One that he could easily turn down.

"Yeah, whatever!" He called back, eager to have the opportunity to interrupt the other boys' precious sleep.

*****

Bakugo wasn't scared of the doctors, you can't be when you're a hero in training. But he hadn't realised quite how nervous he'd be about this particular visit until him and Aizawa were sat in the parking lot, Yamada at home looking after the cats and Shinsou.

"I feel sick." He admitted, eyes staring straight in front of him, not even ticcing as the nerves coursed through his veins. What was he so fucking nervous about? That they'd call him a liar? The sharp pang of nausea that struck at the thought clearly indicated that that was exactly what he was scared of. What if he was lying?

"Lucky for you, kiddo, we're in the perfect place for feeling sick!" Aizawa chuckled, not noticing how pale and sweaty Katsuki had gone while he rummaging by his feet for the papers they needed.

"I can't do this. We need to go home."

Aizawa sat bolt up right in his seat, hair sticking up and face red from leaning upside down, clearly only just realising that Katsuki wasn't joking around. "Woah, woah, okay buddy what's going on?" Despite how frazzled he looked, Katsuki could still see the concern plastered across his face clear as day. He couldn't tell if that made him feel better or worse. What if they walked in there and he got told he was making it up? Aizawa and Yamada would have done so much for him just because he sat there and tricked everyone into pitying him.

"I-" He shoved down the pressure he could feel building, if he proved to the both of them that he could stop the shivers right now, than maybe he wouldn't have to go into the building that loomed so ominously in front of them. "What if I'm lying?"

"Lying about what?" Aizawa was clearly confused, eyebrows furrowed as he subconsciously smoothed down his hair.

"I probably don't even have tics! What if I've made this all up for attention? What if my mother was right?" He clenched his fists, refusing to look at Aizawa. He didn't want to see the disappointment flash across his face when he agreed.

"Katsuki, you aren't lying unless you're concisely doing so. You're unsure, a thing far from dishonesty." Bakugo couldn't deny that the man had sound logic, but the fear still niggled away at his consciousness.

"But I'm not ticcing right now!" He argued, finally moving his head to look at Aizawa, who to his surprise, looked the opposite of disappointed.

"You're as stiff as a fucking board, of course you're not ticcing!" Aizawa shot back. "Relax before you send yourself into a tic attack. Either way, you don't need to be ticcing 24 hours a day to be valid, Katsuki. Hizashi had the exact same worries when he was in the process of getting diagnosed."

"He did?" Sometimes Katsuki forgot that the boisterous man must have gone through the exact same things he is. It was a comforting thought.

"Of course he did. Do you think you can go in or should we go back home?" It was hard to understand why Aizawa was so understanding, willing to do something inconvenient just to make a random kid happy. But whatever it was that made Aizawa like that, made Katsuki want to make the man proud.

"Let's just get this over and done with."

*****

He had expected to be relieved when he sat back in the car, maybe even happy. He certainly hadn't expected to feel annoyed.

"Months!" He shouted, slamming the door behind him and furiously doing up his seatbelt. The stupid doctor had told him they could only officially diagnose him in a few months time, the month that marked it a year since his tics started. It was a stupid rule in his opinion, even she had admitted she was nearly 100% certain he had Tourette's. But no. They had to keep up with protocol or some stupid shit,

"I know it's rough, kiddo, but these things take time." Aizawa tried to sooth him, turning in his seat to look at the furious teen. He had known this would happen of course, but it was best to get the professionals involved sooner than later. "You're lucky they're not making you wait a year from their first observation."

"Well how do they know it hasn't been a year already?" He huffed, crossing his arms as Aizawa started the engine, pulling out of the parking space.

"You told them?" Shouta answered hesitantly, trying to not state the obvious but having no other answer to give the teen.

"This is dumb."

"It is, but there's not much we can do about the diagnostic criteria." Aizawa agreed, he didn't really want to play into the teens anger, but he couldn't help but agree. Denying kids that were clearly struggling and had no other possible diagnostic options an answer to what was going on seemed idiotic. But then again, everything could change at any moment. Bakugo suddenly waking up without tics would certainly be a blessing.

"Well, the diagnostic criteria is shit and shoul- go fucking die." Bakugo huffed. "See! Even my tics agree."

Aizawa could only laugh as Katsuki continued to shout insults and complaints the entire way home. Most of them were tics, but it got to the point where the teen was actively agreeing with them, beginning to outwardly praise every insult he accidentally threw out into the open. Aizawa was grateful that the boy was finding humour in the situation. Well, he at least hoped he was and wasn't actually agreeing with the idea of blasting the building to the ground...maybe they should have a chat about damage to public property later.

*****

"Where's Shinsou? I need to bitch to him right now!" Bakugo announced as soon as he stepped through the front door, Aizawa trailing behind with his eyes fixed on the referral papers.

"He's gone out with some friends. Everything alright?" Yamada called, walking towards the front door while drying his hands with the kitchen towel.

"He's just fuming about the wait time." Aizawa helpfully supplied, kicking off his shoes and handing Hizashi the papers.

"Months!" Katsuki shrieked, flapping his hands. "We all know I have it!" He continued, striding towards the sofa and flopping down onto it.

"You've done a literal 180 from our conversation in the car." Aizawa scoffed playfully, secretly happy that his kid was at least believing himself now. Bakugo could only grumble in return, squashing his face into a cushion.

"Oh sweetie, I know it sucks having to wait but -." Yamada began, clearly trying to launch into the history of his diagnosis. But Bakugo couldn't hear him anymore. Sweetie. He could already feel his breath beginning to stutter, hating the chokehold such a simple word had over him. But he couldn't stop the static that began to fill his ears, drowning out the sounds of blond rattling on. He didn't even notice when Yamada's voice suddenly cut off, opting for calling to Aizawa who had just gone to quickly fill the cats' food bowl.

He could hear the man whispering in his ear all over again. Comments about how he was so small rattling through his ears. The man was only offering to help keep him warm, but the tone behind his voice indicated so much more, leaving Bakugo's skin crawling all over again. He was so exposed, defenceless and soaking wet, faced with a man that wanted to touch him. Was touching him.

He rocketed off the surface he was lying on when he felt a hand touch his shoulder, heart pounding with anticipation. What if he couldn't stop him this time?

He was preparing himself to explode, both metaphorically and literally, until his brain registered something familiar. Aizawa.

"Katsuki! What's going on?" He asked, hands raised next to his face, showing he wasn't making a move to touch him.

"I-" Katsuki stuttered, tongue clicking. "I don't know. I just-" He didn't know what to do. He could already feel the panic ebbing out of him, instead leaving him mortifyingly embarrassed and in need of an excuse. He had no idea what had come over him, the panic seemed silly now he remembered where he was. It didn't help that he could see Yamada on the brink of tears, teetering behind Aizawa, anxiously looking over the black haired mans' shoulder.

"I have a feeling there's something going on that we don't know about." Aizawa said, completely non-accusingly, but Bakugo still hung his head, ashamed about his final secret. He fiddled with his hands for a few minutes, the two men waiting patiently for him to reveal what was clearly bothering him.

"Uh-" Katsuki knew that this had happened one too many times, first with Kirishima's mum, then with the dreams, and now somewhere he felt safe. He knew there was no point in trying to get out of telling them now, it would only happen again in a few weeks. Right now it was all or nothing. "You know - bah! - that dream I had a couple of nights ago?" He watched as the two men nodded their heads, still in disbelief that he was actually about to tell anybody what had happened. "I kept having it over and over but I was so bothered the other night because it was the first time I remembered it." He had to pause to take a deep breath. How was he supposed to say this? "The League of Villains and my - fuck off - mum weren't the only people in it."

"Who else, kiddo?" Aizawa asked, sounding apprehensive which Bakugo hated. This was stupid. Nothing had even happened. He was getting emotional over something completely insignificant.

"I just- you know that night I turned up to UA at fuck-ass o'clock? My parents had kinda left me stranded so I ended up walking." He knew he was stalling, but he couldn't help himself. "It was pissing it down with rain so I stopped under a bridge for a bit but this man turned up." His words were getting faster and faster, beginning to jumble as he reached the true thing that was bothering him still. "He didn't do much. It's not even a -blasting off - big deal." Staring resolutely at the floor, hands clutched in his hair, Katsuki finally revealed his last hidden truth. "He kept calling me sweetie and then he- he started touching me."

There was silence. The sound of Katsuki's heavy breathing being the only thing to fill the room.

"And now every time someone calls me that I just -"

"I'm sorry I reminded you of such an awful thing, Bakugo. I'm so sorry." Yamada wasn't trying to hide the fact he was crying anymore, just letting the tears fall openly as he finally stepped away from behind Aizawa.

"It's not like you could've fucking known. It's not even a big deal, he barely got to do anything!" Bakugo was furiously trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill down his face. He had cried more in the past few days than he ever had as a kid. "I'm just being dramatic about it."

"You are not being dramatic, Katsuki. I'm sorry. We should've talked about that dream sooner but I was so caught up with the custody papers it completely slipped my mind. I apologise for my oversight." Aizawa said solemnly, bowing down in apology. It was safe to say that that absolutely mortified Katsuki. His own teacher bowing down to him?

"Stop!" Katsuki chocked out, crumpling back onto the sofa with his head in his hands, wanting anything but the man who had saved him to apologise. It was his fault he had let it happen in the first place, the fact he had let it affect him just added to the embarrassment. "You shouldn't be apologising for something I brought onto myself."

"Katsuki-"

"It's - yoshi - not even a big deal! I don't understand why I keep getting so worked up about it!"

"Bakugo-"

"I get having nightmares about being kidnapped! That's fucking expected! Right? But nightmares about my own parents? About some rando that managed to cop a feel? What the fuck is wrong with me?" He was yanking on his hair at this point, frustrated beyond belief. "Please." He whispered, glancing up at the faces of his teachers, tears finally falling from his eyes. "Make it stop."

"Katsuki." Aizawa began, moving to sit next to the distressed boy with slow and predictable movements, beckoning for Yamada to join him. "None of the things you are telling us are your fault or insignificant. Sometimes, when you're already in a bad place something horrible can happen and you don't realise how much it's affected you until later."

"But-"

"Just bear with me one minute, kiddo. Yes, getting kidnapped was a traumatising event in your life. The league have been publicly named villains and that makes your brain feel secure in the trauma it holds. Just because your parents and that man haven't been registered as criminals doesn't mean what they did is right. It doesn't mean they aren't villains. Because they are, buddy. They did something that made you feel bad, and that would be enough to leave a lasting impact on anybody, alright?"

"When you're already having a bad time, sometimes something that feels small at the time can be the final blow to tipping you over the edge." Finally Yamada spoke up, hesitantly placing a hand on Bakugo's shoulder once he'd made that was alright. "Just because something feels insignificant to you, doesn't mean it is."

"The - zap zap - pervert didn't even get to do anything though! He grabbed once and I was already blowing him up." Katsuki argued, trying to ignore the winces that shone across his teachers' faces.

"Katsuki. Any type of non-consensual touching is considered an offence and can be traumatising." Anger was blooming across Aizawa's face and suddenly Katsuki was very glad he was not on the receiving end of it.

"Consent is sexy, kiddo!"

"Mic!" Aizawa blurted, panickedly looking for Katsuki's reaction, only relaxing when the boy began to chuckle. "Do you want to pursue the guy, Katsuki?" He asked, only once he was sure the kid wasn't going to burst into tears again.

Bakugo paused for a second before shaking his head. "I just want to move on now."

"Alright. I'll start looking into some therapists." Aizawa stated, ignoring the disgruntled face Bakugo pulled at the idea of going to therapy.

"And please please tell us if we say something that makes you uncomfortable!" Mic begged, already beginning to cry again as he remembered the distress that he had accidentally caused.

"Yeah, yeah." Katsuki chanted, pulling himself up from the sofa. "I'm gonna go take a fucking nap!"

"I'll send Hitoshi up when he gets back! He'll enable your bitching about that poor doctor!" Aizawa called back, laughing as Katsuki stomped up the stairs, already beginning to scoff about the wait time again. The kid would be alright eventually. He was sure of it.

Chapter Text

"Why are you evilly laughing?" Hitoshi asked, looking extremely disconcerted at the maniac cackles coming from just next to him. It had been a pretty standard Sunday of relaxing, with both adults out picking up the cats a day early, until Bakugo had begun practically shrieking. "Dude, what is it? You're starting to scare me and I can't hear the TV. What's happening? Are you possessed?" He continued whining when Bakugo just laughed harder, ignoring him. Anything that could make the perpetually cynical blonde laugh this hard was worth seeing.

The cycle of complaints and cackling continued for a while, poor Hitoshi's whining only fuelling Katsuki's joy, until a particular sharp intake of breath sent the hysterical boy into a new fit of coughing. It was a well known fact throughout the house that Bakugo had developed a breathing tic a couple of days ago, it happened at the most inopportune times, frequently causing him to choke on quite literally anything. They all knew it bothered the poor boy, it was pretty obvious he had problems surrounding his neck in general and choking clearly brought back a few too many unpleasant memories. It was a tic they all were secretly hoping disappeared soon, no matter how many times Bakugo insisted it didn't matter.

Leaning over to rub the others' back, Hitoshi was quickly swatted away. "Fuck off, grapes! Jelly is mine!" Katsuki grumbled, voice raspy as he finally began to pull himself back together while simultaneously shielding Jelly from outward gazes. That was another universal fact accepted by the family. Jelly was now Katsuki's.

"I wasn't-"

"I was laughing at Pikachu who hasn't done any of his fucking holiday work." He continued, obviously trying to suppress the laughter that was pushing at his throat again. "Look at the crying cat meme he sent." Thrusting his phone into Shinsous' face he muffled his next chuckle with a stunted cough and a muttered "fucking idiot."

"Shouldn't you, like, help him with that?" The purple haired boy was already turning back to look at the TV, a grin tugging at his lips, knowing exactly how this conversation was going to go already.

"Fuck no! He dug himself into the hole, he can climb his way out." Bakugo snarled back, tapping angrily at his phone. Shinsou leaned over, smiling even wider when the boy shielded the screen from him.

"I can literally see you sending him the answers!" He teased, instantly going to protect his head as Bakugo launched at him, swear words flying from his mouth with Jelly somehow securely in his arms.

"We're back, kiddos!" Came a voice from the door way forcing Bakugo to pause in his attack. Leaning back into his corner of the sofa he watched as Shinsou grinned wickedly at him. Of course the idiot had been saved by convenient timing. He was safe. For now.

Unfortunately, before he could even begin to plot his revenge, he spotted a black mass hurtling towards his face. Instantly, every single one of his survival instincts kicked in. Throwing his arms across his face and pushing himself as far back into his seat as possible was second nature thanks to Mitsuki's love of throwing shit with perfect aim. Luckily the panic didn't last long, his heart rate already calming from the split second reaction. He very quickly noticed Shinsou's eyes staring into his soul as he lowered his arms again, heart pounding as he looked down at the new cat in his lap. The little black balls' nose was snuffling up and down his arm, cold and completely undeterred by the still tensed muscle that pulled across his forearm.

"You alright, bud? That was quite the flinch." Katsuki was semi-convinced that Aizawa had eyes everywhere, he always seemed to notice every single tiny detail that occurred in the area around him. Aizawa's comment brought attention to the fact that everybody was staring at him now, cautious and calculating, clearly waiting for him to break down crying like he had so many times already. But something in him refused to break this time. They had told him to speak up whenever something made him uncomfortable and he momentarily felt brave enough to voice his insignificant problem.

"I don't like it when things fly at my fucking face." He grunted, picking up the cat to look at the goofy little thing.

"Turbo does like to live up to her name." Mic stated, putting down a few grocery bags. "She gets the zoomies a lot but it shouldn't be too hard to stop her from running towards you. We'll try our best to keep her calm until you're comfortable. Is that alright?"

"Yeah that's fine." Katsuki mumbled, cheeks flushing red at the idea of his irrational problem actually being catered to so readily. Holding Turbo by her armpits, he looked directly into her eyes and of course immediately decided he loved her. He wasn't sure how long it would take for him to not instinctually flinch from anything coming at his face, but he was sure he could get over it. Only so the cat could live its' life without restriction of course.

It became rather apparent quite quickly that she was very different from Jelly, the way she began wiggling almost immediately indicated she didn't like being held for very long. Not one to trap a poor animal, he placed her back onto the floor with a small smile, watching her bolt towards Aizawa, weaving in between the mans' legs at the speed of light. Shouta immediately placed his feet firmly on the floor, resolutely holding his ground while smiling softly. Katsuki presumed the tall man had been tripped over just one too many times by a roaming cat and secretly hoped that he would one day be able to see him tumble to the floor in a mess of long legs and sneaky paws.

"She goes very quiet at night." Shinsou began, looking fondly at the roaming ball. "She just has to get her energy-"

"The zoomies!" Almost instantaneously, his interruption pulled a sheet of quiet across the entire room, Shinsou stopping mid-sentence as he turned to watch Bakugo begin to vibrate with anger, eyes fixed on Turbo. "You little bitch! She's been in my life for what, 5 minutes? And she's already given me a tic! The fucking audacity!"

"Just shows how much you love her already." Shinsou laughed, grinning ear to ear. It was pretty clear that Bakugo wasn't actually angry, the excessive screaming and bared teeth tended to indicate a frustration born from kindness and love - something that Shinsou would readily tease without fear of losing his life.

"Fuck off!" Katsuki shouted back just as expected.

"Oh! And here's Ramen!" Mic announced in the gaps between Bakugos' complaints, pointing at the door as a tiny ginger ball of fluff stalked into the room.

"And before you complain about the naming, cause I know you will. He's named after Hizashi's ramen phase." Aizawa teased, flashing the packs of instant ramen he happened to be pulling out of the shopping bag.

"He's still in that phase, Dad."

"Oi!" Yamada shouted. "Who doesn't love ramen? It has all your basic nutrition and-"

"It really doesn't -"

"Ramen!" Bakugo practically shouted over the cacophony of voices that were bouncing across the room, slowly increasing in volume. Moments like these where the conversations became loud and disjointed, everyone interrupting each other and talking at once, tended to trigger Katsuki's vocal tics to shout in a desperate bid to be the loudest in the room. The disorderly exchanges were hard to avoid in a house like theirs however, so they tended to just laugh, welcoming the chaos of randomly shouted words. This particular new tic was harder to ignore though, being the second cat related one to appear in the span of about 5 minutes.

"Was that another new tic?" Shinsou asked, puffing out his cheeks in a desperate attempt to stop himself from laughing, he was already on thin ice with his earlier comment and knew even a snicker would cause all out war.

"Fucking cats!" Was all Bakugo had to scream before Shinsou was bent double laughing, clutching at his stomach as the other got angrier and angrier as his cat related tics just kept coming. "See! This is why Jelly - zoomies - is the best! She hasn't given me any tics!" He snarled, scooping up the cat in question again. His claim didn't last long, however. "Strawberry Jelly~ Fuck! No!"

It was only when the whistles began that Aizawa decided it was time to put a stop to the chaos that was Katsuki screaming at three hyperactive, yet innocent cats. The kid needed to calm down before the fun turned into a tic attack, not to mention the fact that Shouta really didn't want to have to deal with yet another day filled with constant whistles being thrown between Hizashi and Katsuki.

"Alright, alright! Try and calm down before this turns into an attack, Katsuki." He shouted over the chaos, striding over to take the cats away in an attempt to stop the new tics being triggered out of the poor boy. "Stop provoking him, Hitoshi!" He added when his other kid couldn't stop laughing, pointing and jabbing at Bakugo's sides.

"God, they really are like brothers aren't they, Shouta?" Yamada laughed as he helped his husband shut the cats in the side room for the time being.

"Hey! You're only saying that 'cause - blasting off - that fucker likes to - zoomies zoomies - test how close he can get to death." Bakugo snarled, pushing Hitoshi, who was still somehow sniggering to himself, causing him to tumble backwards onto the sofa.

"No seriously though! 'Cause I have some very special papers right here!" Hizashi sang completely unbeknownst to the sigh that left Aizawa at the poor timing.

"How about we wait until Katsuki's a bit less ticcy for this?" Shouta suggested, eyes lingering on the spams that were wracking the teenagers body.

"Are you being serious right now? You actually - grape jelly - have what I think you do?" Katsuki whispered, straightening himself into standing with proper posture while shooting glances at Shinsou who was now sitting considerably straighter on the sofa. He had thought the pair had just gone out to get the cats, but they had been gone for a while meaning it wouldn't be completely unfeasible for them to have picked up something else. There was no way a few tics would stop him from getting those damned papers signed.

"It's wonderful news, kiddo, but I don't want you to feel pressured into having this conversation now if you're already overwhelmed with the cats." Aizawa said softly, concern flashing through his eyes.

"Fuck off! We're doing this now." Bakugo responded incredulously, striding over the the table and sitting down, drumming his fingers against the table as he waited expectantly for the adults to join him.

"I'll leave you guys to it then." Shinsou leapt to his feet and scuttled up the stairs, the smile splitting his face not hidden in the slightest. Katsuki couldn't help but grin at the excitement of his kind-of brother. The two had become pretty much inseparable since he had arrived, both of them relishing in the fact that they finally had someone else that had been through something similar.

However, as soon as Hitoshi's bouncing figure had disappeared up the stairs and Bakugo had a moment to study the two men that were left, he picked up on the air of sorrow that was palpable. And that's exactly when his brain kicked into gear, processing the steps he personally had taken to get this point - exactly zero. He certainly hadn't been to court, a situation only avoidable if Aizawa and Yamada had gone to extreme lengths to get him out of it. Or if his parents had-

"Kiddo, I'm not gonna sugar coat it for you. We only have these papers right now because your parents went out of their way to surrender custody of you without court interference." Aizawa said calmly, confirming exactly what Katsuki had been suspecting and dreading. His parents really didn't care anymore, they couldn't even be bothered to put up a semblance of a fight to keep him and although that upset him, he wasn't quite as devastated as he had thought he would be.

"So." He began slowly, desperately trying to process what this meant for him. "I never have to see them again." He chose his words carefully, ensuring that he there wasn't even the smallest chance of them thinking he wanted to visit his parents. He was overcome with the comprehension that he never ever wanted to make contact with them again. The realisation hurt like nothing he had felt before, but it left space for him to accept something new and warm, a family that could actually love and nurture him, help him to heal and grow.

"Not if you don't want to-"

"I don't!" Katsuki quickly interrupted Aizawa, his voice wobbling and edging on panic. "I never want to seem them again. Ever."

"That's alright, buddy. But if you ever change your mind, that's also alright." Hizashi spoke softly, whistling as he placed a plate of cookies down onto the table.

"I won't." He replied resolutely, already casting what he remembered of the days in that house to the back of his mind. He was certain he would be forced to dig up all the haunting memories in the inevitable therapy sessions that Aizawa was threatening, but living without them for just a week or two wouldn't hurt. "I don't want to be a Bakugo anymore." He added after a moment of hesitation, fiddling with his fingers at the realisation of what he had just indirectly suggested.

"We can legally change your name to Yamada-Aizawa to match Hitoshi's. Unless you would prefer something different?" Shouta suggested, smiling softly as their kid nodded his head eagerly at the idea of sharing a common surname with them all.

"No more calling you Bakugo then, hey? Just Katsukis and kiddos from now on!" Hizashi hooted, miming stamping on the cursed family name.

"I mean I've been calling him Katsuki for weeks already." Aizawa chuckled, dodging the incredulous look that his husband shot him.

"Without even asking him? God, Shouta! The scandal!" Hizashi squawked, attempting to swat at the other man.

"Guess I can't call you two Yamada and - fuck off - Aizawa anymore either." Katsuki piped up, grinning as wide as the cheshire cat as his new family beamed back at him. It would be strange transitioning from calling them their family names, but it was change that Katuski would welcome with open arms.

"Guess not, kiddo." Shouta smiled softly, before his expression suddenly turned serious again. "Two more points though, bud, just bear with me. Firstly, if Mitsuki or Masaru ever try and make contact, you gotta tell us so the court can get involved. It might seem insignificant but it's important. Secondly, I hate to mention it but I think it's about time we debut your badass scar to the world."

Katsuki felt so content with the knowledge he was finally free of the constraint that came with the name 'Bakugo', he didn't even mind when Hizashi delicately peeled the bandage off of his face. He didn't even find himself caring that such an intimate part of who he was now was exposed to the world, he had his family to back him up after all. He spent little time debating to himself what he would call everybody now. Shinso was definitely Hitoshi from this very instant, part of him wondered why the idiot still even introduces himself with his old family name. But that was something he could ask another time. Shouta and Hizashi were a whole different crisis. He knew Hitoshi called them Dad and Pops, but he knew he wasn't ready for that yet and might never be. But somehow, he knew that was okay. He hadn't felt an inkling of pressure since he had stepped into the cosy house and he certainly wasn't about to start feeling it now. It wasn't something he needed to debate, he knew he could call them what he felt like in that moment without backlash.

Even the thought of how comfortable he felt in his new house set a smile on his face, one that felt indestructible. That was until Shouta and Hizashi turned away to begin making dinner, however. He had got up from his seat, ready to bound upstairs to share the good news with Hitoshi when he had caught sight of one of his few saved contacts flashing across his screen. 'The hag' burned into into his eyes, filling his stomach with a dread so heavy it felt like lead. But just as quickly as he had spotted the name, it had vanished. Quickly stuffing his phone into his pocket, he took off upstairs, determined to not let this ruin his moment with Hitoshi. His eyes must be playing tricks on him. That's all.

Chapter Text

It felt like just yesterday he was trudging to school in the night, darkness surrounding him and lurking in every corner, no parents to care about whether he made it through the treacherous journey alive or not. Yet here he was, just a few weeks later, being driven to school with a bag full of clean clothes and a new but somewhat irritating brother next to him. There were a lot of things to be worried about, such as the huge ass scar that sat diagonally across the length of his face, or the messages and calls from his parents that he was dubiously hiding. But none of it mattered in that moment, because he was currently being hurriedly ushered to his familiar dorm by Shouta, Hizashi doing the same with Hitoshi. They had arrived early, as they apparently normally did, to get the boys settled in without rumours flying. Katsuki appreciated being able to get himself re-familiarised with the building before it was overflowing with idiots.

"Now remember Katsuki, you call the shots, say as little or as much as you want to. You can tell them you're a Yamada-Aizawa now, or you can tell them to fuck off. Completely up to you." Aizawa stated firmly, helping him put his clothes into drawers and wardrobe. "Hitoshi has said he doesn't care about who knows about him as well so you don't need to hold back."

"You're fussing." Katsuki pointed out, watching his now adoptive father quite literally flap around the room, something rather uncharacteristic for the usually solemn man.

"I know, I know. I just want this to be as easy as possible for you." He muttered gruffly, hiding the flush that worked its way to his cheeks.

"You've done enough." Katsuki replied, slightly embarrassed himself. "More than what I deserved. So - wooo - thanks or whatever."

"What did we say about the negative talk, kiddo?" Katsuki huffed at the reminder, they'd been going on about 'positive mental attitude' or some shit ever since they'd seen his burn marks a couple weeks ago. It wasn't that Katsuki didn't appreciate the help, he just hated being reminded of how fucked up his own brain was.

"Yeah, yeah, positivity and all that shit. Go set up your classroom, old man. I promise I'll make it to class on time without your supervision." He whined, pushing Aizawa out of his room. They had about 30 minutes until class started, a slighter later start to day in order to let students move anything they took home back into their dorms. Most people didn't bother however, opting to dump stuff in their lockers and walk into class as late as possible. So Katsuki had a blissful half hour of silence, preparing himself for bombardment of questions he was about to get.

Falling face first onto his bed, he glanced at his phone, eyes automatically skimming the three messages that shone on his screen.

"So excited to see you again soon, Kats!" A classic message from Eijirou, who sent something along these lines nearly every time they were about to see each other.

"Don't forget, I'll beat you up if you suppress your tics in class. Don't think Dad and Pops won't tattle on you, bitch." Katsuki only scoffed at this one, Hitoshi was the definition of aggressively supportive.

But his good mood was instantly ruined upon seeing the third message, his immediate response being to throw his phone across the room, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thunk. The string of colourful slurs and curses that adorned his screen were enough for him to know who the text was from.

*****

His first week back at school after the most eventful break of his life was interesting to say the least. It had started the minute he had walked into class, the other early birds' eyes instantly being glued to his face. It was only when the majority of the class had arrived, miraculously only Denki running late, that the questions started.

"Woah! What happened to you face?" Hagakure instantly blurted as soon as she caught sight of him, moving swiftly across the room to get a closer look despite the obvious panic that flashed across his face. Katsuki's eyes instantly sweeped across the room looking for an escape. Aizawa hadn't arrived yet and the longer he stayed silent, the more eyes that fixed onto his back. He knew this was going to happen, he had been completely prepared to teach people being a lesson about being invasive by bluntly telling the truth. But he hadn't expected it to happen quite so quickly and with such ferocity.

"Did you go to the hospital for that, Bakugo? As class president it is my job to ensure you are getting the proper medical attention you need." Iida stated robotically, striding across the room to join the rapidly growing circle that was congregating around him.

"Are you alright, Bakugo? Kero."

Before he could stop himself, Katsuki had copied Tsu, a perfect "kero" bursting from his lips. "Sorry, sorry!" He scrambled to apologise at her raised eyebrows. "I didn't mean to-"

"Imitating classmates is not acceptable, Bakugo. As is getting in fights, which I'm sure is where that nasty scar has come from." Katsukis' friends were beginning to look anxious as Iida blasted onwards, eyes flitting between the regimented class president and the quickly angering blonde.

"Alright, listen here you four-eyed fucker!" Now, Katsuki had changed a lot over the course of a few weeks but there was no way he would turn down the fight that Iida was clearly provoking. "You-"

"Guys? I think I just saw a cat out in the courtyard!" Todoroki suddenly shouted across the class, watching as the attention of the entire class, bar Iida and Katsuki, was immediately thrown into scrambling towards the window to catch a glimpse. With much persuasion from the dual-haired boy, which included a few ridiculous statements such as "you need to make sure the cat doesn't get stuck in a tree", even Iida was reluctantly lured away from Katsuki's side.

He caught Todorokis' eyes, mouthing a quick thank you in response to the nod he was thrown. It was a moment of mutual understanding, one that could only be shared between people with facial scarring and with a grim sympathy, Katsuki realised Todoroki hadn't had that until now. Yet again, he felt grateful for the people he had found at UA.

Todorki didn't have to stall long, not that he found it hard to endlessly point out nonexistent things and act confused when they disappeared. Just moments later, Present Mic strode loudly through the doorway, greeting his students in a voice that boarded on screaming. He quite obviously glanced at Katsuki, alarm bells clearly rung by the paleness that still lingered across the boys' cheeks. But the lesson carried on regardless, Katsuki quickly forgetting about his impending doom consisting of hundreds of unnecessarily invasive questions.

Luckily, or maybe unlikely for him he never quite made it to the first break when the onslaught would have inevitably began. It was about half way through their english lesson when Katsuki put down his pencil, ready to try and stretch out his unusually tense hands. He had assumed the cramping was just from his furious scribbling, that was pretty standard after all. But the sensation of his dominant hand curling in on itself, and staying there, was something he had yet to encounter. He had stared at his hand for a moment, first attempting to move it back to its original position on its own and failing spectacularly. Next he took his left hand, placing it where his fingers curled towards his bent wrist and tried yanking. It hurt like a bitch, straining against the muscles pulling in his forearm, but he got his hand straight eventually. The victory was short lived however, as moments later his wrist began to curl inwards again.

It wasn't something he was used to dealing with, something he knew how to fix and that sent a cold dread swirling down his spine. People would start noticing he wasn't taken notes eventually, how could he if he couldn't hold his pencil? He had never had a tic like this before, didn't even know it was something that could happen. But here he was, sitting in his classroom with the scratching of pens surrounding him, with his hand locked in position.

He only realised how intently he had been staring at his own issue once Hizashi crouched down in front of his desk. A quick glance around the room told him everybody had been set a writing task to do, something he had clearly been too zoned out to hear.

"What's up, bud?" The usually loud blonde whispered, scanning Katsukis' body for any obvious injuries.

His eyes immediately flicked to his son's hand when Katsuki muttered, "There's something wrong with my fucking hand." Yamada smiled internally, pleased that his son was so readily talking about his problems already. He didn't quite take into account the dreaded panic that was churning in Katsukis' stomach that forced him to offer up the information.

"You think you can wait it out or do you need to leave?" The teacher-turned-parent offered, trying to map out the options they had to make the situation less daunting. The kids' problem looked like hand-locking, something that wasn't inherently a tic but was most likely caused by the Tourette's.

"I-" Katsuki stuttered, starting to angrily pull at his hand, clearly getting frustrated. He didn't want to admit he felt controlled by the fear that stemmed from such a simple problem. He was sure it would let up soon but there was still that niggling fear that this was it, the end of his hand. He couldn't quite find in himself what he wanted to do. On one hand he wanted to avoid missing any lessons, but on the other hand he was desperate to leave the confines of the classroom. He knew for a fact that Shouta was on a free period right now and the support of his new father figure sounded brilliant.

Luckily for him, he didn't have to make the decision. "Go find Shouta. He should be in the office down the hall." Hizashi whispered, patting Katsuki on the back as he got up and scampered out of the door, cradling his hand. Waltzing to the front of the room he put on his most enthusiastic voice to distract the class, expertly concealing his worry.

*****

With the speed at which Katsuki strode down the corridor it didn't take long for him to reach the small office Shouta normally shared with Hizashi. He didn't even bother knocking, instead opting to slowly push open the door and poke his head around the corner, looking at the black haired man who was staring intently at his computer.

"Katsuki? Are you alright?" It didn't take long for Shouta to notice him lurking by the doorway, breathing slightly more laboured than it should be and his neck twitching all over the place.

"I'm fucking fine. My shitty hand is just stuck like this." The blonde whined, stepping further into the room after closing the door behind him. He waved his hand in front of him, watching as Aizawa's eyebrows shot upwards before falling back to their perpetually furrowed position.

"It's alright, bud. Probably just a mixture of muscle tension and wrist tics." Shouta stated, reaching over the gently take his sons' hand, rubbing up and down his forearm in an attempt to release some of the tension that was pulling across the area.

"I couldn't even make it through block 1 without leaving." Katsuki said weakly, looking down at his lap in an attempt to avoid Shoutas' prying eyes, suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of frustration. Now the panic was ebbing out of him, he was filled with an anger that bubbled furiously. He should've been able to deal with that situation easily. It wasn't like he was having a tic attack, just a simple stuck joint. But his own fear of what other people would think ended up with him having to lose out on his valuable education.

"You can leave whenever you need to, Katsuki. You've been through a lot, things will take a while to get back to normal." Shouta soothed, watching his son tic over and over again while still staring at his locked wrist.

"But there was no reason for me to leave! I wasn't even having a tic attack!"

"You know deep down what was going through your mind, Katsuki, and whatever that was, it was a valid reason to leave and collect yourself." Shouta said firmly, looking intently at his sons' face. It was clear that the young boy was getting agitated, an emotion that could very quickly blow out of proportion. "I'm proud of you for knowing your limits."

"Being scared of my own classmates reactions isn't a fucking valid reason to leave class!" Aizawa paused as Katsuki ripped his arm away, holding and glaring at his hand as if it was actively trying to murder Jelly. "Why can't I just bring myself tell them?"

"You're scared of being rejected by people you love, a perfectly reasonable feeling in my opinion."

"I don't love those fucking idiots!" Admittedly, Shouta sighed with relief when Katsukis' robotically practiced speech about 'not needing extras' was swiftly interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. The teacher simply raised his eyebrows, watching as his kid took one look at his phone, face crumbling even further as soon as he saw the caller ID. "Sorry, I must've forgotten to silence it."

"Is everything alright, kiddo?" Aizawa asked. A slightly panicked realisation ebbed into his brain as he thought about the last couple of days. Katsuki had definitely been hiding his phone from them all, shoving it into his pockets whenever the screen lit up not even bothering to see who was trying to contact him. Shouta had pushed it off as the boys' reluctance of speaking to his friends, he understood socialising would be hard after the trauma of the past few weeks. But now he thought about it harder, the way Katsukis' mood soured whenever the device shone was certainly concerning. "Is there a reason you've been avoiding your phone recently?" As soon as the question left his mouth, Katsuki began fiddling with his blazer cuffs, nose scrunching fervently. Something was definitely off.

Katsuki had really been hoping that this would blow over, that his parents would just leave him the fuck alone. Every inch of him was screaming to not reveal the messages that were clogging his phones' inbox. It had only been a day since they had started, but they were already consuming his every thought, spiking his nerves and tics. He knew there wasn't really any point in hiding it anymore if Aizawa had already picked up on on something being wrong. So, with his still functioning hand, he switched on his phone and slid it towards Shouta, beginning to massage his own wrist again, glad that it was beginning to loosen up.

His heart stuttered as he watched Shoutas' face scrunch up in anger, his own tics instantly going to replicate the expression. "I should've told you when I first started getting them." He admitted, thinking of the restless night he had had reading through the abusive messages.

"When did you start receiving these?" Aizawa asked, voice strained as he scrolled through the masses of messages and missed call notifications from his parents.

"Yesterday." Was his simple response, noting the surprise that now shone across his teachers' face.

"Katsuki, there are already hundreds of messages on here and - jesus christ these are horrible." Katsuki didn't miss the way his teachers' hands clenched tightly into fists, shaking as he read the reams of insults.

"I know." Katsuki whispered, realising just a little too late it probably wasn't a wise idea to admit that he had sat there reading every single one that popped up on his screen. He didn't love his biological parents, not now he knew what a real family is like at least. But the things they were saying to him still hurt.

"I'm gonna have to take this, bud. We'll get this sorted I promise." Shouta stated, sliding the device into the draw of his desk. He was already thinking of all the ways he could corner the bastards and force them into jail. The court was definitely going to have to get involved now but that was something they could tackle together. "How's the hand going?"

Katsuki knew Shouta was trying to change the topic of discussion, and he was extremely grateful for it. As selfish as it was, he wanted the two pro-heroes in his life to sort everything out for him without him being involved. And that is exactly why he allowed himself to be steered away from the topic of his phone. "It's getting - red riot unbreakable - better. I think I'm okay to go back to class." He said, awkwardly waving his straightened hand in the air. The effort of keeping it up was causing tremors to run up his arm, he was shaking but at least he had control back.

"Alright, bud. Consider telling the rest of the class about the tics!" Shouta shouted as the boy strode out of the door, barely remembering to throw a goodbye over his shoulder. There was never a dry day in Yamada-Aizawa household, that's for sure.

*****

Katsuki was going to tell class 1-A about his tics, he swears he was. But the room was always so loud and he just never found the perfect opportunity. What was he even supposed to say? Hey idiots, I probably have Tourette's syndrome go look it up? The whole situation felt awkward to say the least. The fact that only a few people knew made class difficult, however. And that was exactly why the way the rest of 1-A found out about his little situation was messy at best.

He had only been back at school for a week and his nerves were already shot. People were constantly staring at his face, asking him question after question. His biggest mistake was admitting that the scar was from a disagreement with his mum. He had thought telling the crowd of his class a version of the truth would shut them up, stop them from poking their noses into his business. But it had the opposite of the desired effect, with pity and concern being added to the mix. The constant attention was making him nervous which made his tics even worse, which of course attracted even more attention. He felt like he was stuck in a vicious cycle of never ending questions that not even his friends could prevent (they had tried their best of course.)

The problem reared its' ugly head one afternoon in their once weekly science class. His tics had been particularly bad all day, pencil throwing and hitting being a little too prevalent in his actions. And of course it was this particular day where they were forced to take their singular measly science class. No one really understood why the school still forced the hero students to learn the minuscule amount of content, but no one complained when they were allowed to play around with chemicals and circuit boards.

Katsuki had initially been thrilled when Aizawa had brought out the conical flasks proclaiming an experiment involving mixing some shit together and seeing what precipitates formed. It was extremely simple and meant they could just sit there and look at colours. Even better, Katsuki's lab partner was Eijirou meaning it was destined to be an hour of fucking around. And for the first 20 minutes they had done exactly that, laughing and pushing at each other as they tried to identify which solution was which.

Katsuki had just picked up the next flask they needed, ready to pour it into the one residing on the table when he felt a particularly strong tic begin to fester in his arm. He had been subconsciously suppressing the whole lesson already, extremely conscious of the fragile equipment and glass that was surrounding him and it was finally catching up to him. Pausing, fighting against every part of his body, he managed to grind out "Eijirou! Take the flask!"

"What was that, bro?"

"Take the fucking flask!" But it was too late, Kirishima had been facing the other way scribbling down some of their observations blissfully unaware of the fact Katsuki was fighting his own body. And before he could even reach his arm out to grab the glass from his partners hand, it had gone crashing to the floor landing with a sickening shatter and spray of acid or base or whatever the fuck was in that god forsaken flask.

"Shit! Katsuki!" Instantly Kirishima was at his side, steering him away from the puddle that was slowly seeping through his shoes. The entire room had gone silent, only the sound of Katsuki's frantic breathing filling the air. God, he was so angry. He could've seriously hurt somebody. He could've hurt Kirishima, something he never would've been able to forgive himself for.

He could feel Eijirou's steady hand sat firmly on his shoulder, but the words that had finally begun flying from his classmates felt distant and scrambled. He could pick out a few things, people were definitely asking what had happened, whether he was alright, but he could also distinctly pick out a nasally voice mocking him.

"Are you alright, kiddo? Did any get on you?" Suddenly, Aizawa was in front of him, staring into his eyes as he slammed a first aid kit onto the table next to him.

"I'm pretty sure it's gone through his shoes, sir!" Katsuki could barely hear Kirishima telling Shouta about where the liquid might have hit him over the sound of laughing that was coming from somewhere in the room. It was swirling around his mind, taunting him, mocking him for being weak enough to give in to his body.

"Which solution was it, Kirishima?"

"B!"

"Blasting off! Zap Zap!" Katsuki was vaguely aware of the fact he could hear his tics out loud before he did them. And that realisation was exactly what began to clear his mind. There was no way he was hallucinating hearing his tics. No. Someone was imitating them, forcing him to copy as Aizawa sat him down and poured water over his feet. It was humiliating, he felt like he was some sort of circus animal, used and exploited for someone else's entertainment. But he couldn't bring himself to retaliate when he was too busy trying to not kick the kneeling Shouta in the face.

"Enough!" Shouta finally snapped, standing up from his kneeled position and bellowing at the cackling Mineta from across the room. "Get out of my class!" He normally prided himself on being cool and collected around his students, rarely raising his voice, but his patience had been wearing thin with Mineta ever since he started at UA. It was time that kid got taught a lesson about harassment.

Yet again, the room turned blissfully silent as the class watched Mineta scramble out of the door not once looking back at the raised hair and red eyes of his homeroom teacher. Everyone knew this wasn't a time to cross Aizawa.

"Nobody touch any of their equipment until I'm done cleaning up." Shouta stated, only beginning to sweep up the glass once he was satisfied his kid was fine. Luckily, solution B was nothing that could cause any harm.

"I think the majority of the rest of us are okay to carry on the experiment, sir! We'll make sure to be sensible." Iida chimed from the back of the room which only infuriated Katsuki further. Sensible? Did that know-it-all really think he had done it on purpose? Or maybe he thought Katsuki was just messing around, not caring about the safety of himself and others. Suddenly, Katsuki felt like he couldn't hold in his secret anymore, there was no way he was letting Iida delude the class into thinking he had done it on purpose.

"I have Tourette's syndrome, arsehole!" He had retorted loudly before Shouta could even open his mouth. "I didn't fucking do it on purpose so stop implying I did!"

"Bakugo-"

"Katsuki." He shot back, not even knowing who he was cutting off. "Don't call me Bakugo anymore, that's the fucking hags' name."

The room was overwhelmingly quiet now.

"Look, fuckers. Shit happened. I'm not a Bakugo anymore and you're gonna have to deal with me doing and saying random crap." He stated robotically, just wanting to go back to his room. "Any questions?" He let his question hang in the air for just a second before starting again. "Just kidding. Fucking google it and if you still can't figure it out I'll give you the rundown. Can I be excused, Aizawa?" He asked, still finding it weird to call Shouta his given name on school premises. Sure, he could've been kinder and less blunt in the way he had told the class what was going on. But he was just so tired and scared and the last thing he wanted was to be faced with a wall of questions and concerns.

"Yes, Katsuki." Shouta sighed, finally sweeping up the last of the mess and pulling himself to his feet. "Everybody else tidy up their equipment. We're having an impromptu lesson on tic disorders."

Chapter Text

Katsuki's heart beat just that little bit too fast for just a little bit too long after he first walked out of class. In the space of just one hour he had started the chain of events that would get his parents prosecuted and told his entire class about the health condition that was currently consuming his every thought. Admittedly, it had been a lot and Katsuki was willing to accept that he needed a break to at least collect his thoughts before he started studying. So, he had chucked his school bag by his dorm door and sauntered down to the blessedly empty kitchen, pulling down some flour to make his famous spiced cookies.

He hadn't baked since his tics had properly butted their ugly heads into his life and in hindsight he should've seen that handling eggs and flour wasn't a very good idea. But he had decided it was too late to go back once he was thoroughly covered in flour, and egg was unfortunately splattered across the majority of the ceiling. The cookies that came out of the entire adventure were worth the mess, however. Snagging one of the steaming masterpieces for himself, Katsuki lined the rest up on a tray sat on the table. Cookie in mouth and icing bag in hand he slowly drew a letter on each cookie in alternating red and green, little crosses adorning the sides. The decorating didn't take long and once he was satisfied he begrudgingly went about cleaning up the mess that covered practically every inch of the kitchen, only after snapping a quick picture to print and place next to the fresh cookies.

He was eventually forced to call it quits on trying to get all the egg off the ceiling, adamant that everybody else would just have to deal with the slight stains that adorned certain patches. Finally, mind completely clear as desired, he placed the photo of the wrecked kitchen next to his masterfully baked goods and trudged upstairs to his dorm smiling to himself. He knew at least the 'Bakusquad' would find the icing hilarious. In fact, he's sure Shouta, Hitoshi and Hizashi would love them as well. The brightly coloured 'fuck tourettes' that was spelt out was both educational and fucking funny after all.

The baking was supposed to be just a quick diversion from his goal of studying but as soon as he made it back to his room, stomach filled with warm sweet goodness, his bed just looked too tempting, almost as if it was calling to him. With drooping eyelids and heavy limbs he fell face first onto the plush duvet, not fighting the sleep that washed over him in waves.

*****

The sound of somebody knocking on his door finally tore him away from his forever tempting sleep. His sat up with a start, fully aware of the fact that he had slept with his uniform on and was looking dishevelled at best. He hadn't planned on sleeping until the rest of the class got back to the dorms for the evening but he hadn't planned a lot of things recently, such as you know, getting a new set of parents.

"Kats? It's me." Hearing Eijirou's voice through the door sent Katsuki's heart racing all over again. Scrambling out of the covers desperately trying to smooth down his shirt, he ripped open his dorm door shoulders instantly relaxing upon seeing the bundle of red. "Can I come in?"

"Uh - red riot unbreakable - yeah yeah, come in." He stammered, whistling as he stepped to the side of his doorway, watching Kirishima slide into his room, hands in his pockets. Katsuki had accepted about a week ago that he was crushing unbelievably hard on the extrovert. The two had been texting back and forth everyday as usual, only now he had Shouta and Hizashi pointing out the blush he didn't know adorned his cheeks, or the small smile that was stuck to his face. Only then did he notice the butterflies that swarmed his stomach whenever he thought of the redhead's blinding smile, or the way his heart sped up whenever the boy was mentioned. A few years ago he would have had a crisis, denied the feeling as much as he could and stashed it away in a box. But now he lived in a house with two men that loved each other more than his own parents ever could, he knew it was okay that he felt giddy whenever he made contact with the other boy. The realisation certainly didn't help him keep himself under control however. It was almost like the knowledge that he had a crush amplified his every sense making him aware of the subtle shifts of air around the other boy. And that is exactly how he knew Eijirou was psyching himself up to say something. The uncharacteristic shuffling, twiddling thumbs, gnawed lips. There was something playing on the red heads' mind and that made Katsuki extremely nervous.

"Denki laughed so hard at your cookies he short-circuited."

Almost instantly Katsuki felt the nervous energy seep out of his body. There was no reason for him to be nervous around Kirishima. No matter how many weird things happened between them, such as smashing a beaker and then shouting the classroom down, things always went back to normal instantly.

"Seriously! And then Aizawa came down 'cause Sero had somehow forgotten his whole ass bag and he saw them and actually laughed. Like clutching the side of the table, legs crossed type of laughed." Kirishima continued, a large grin beginning to crack across his face as he invited himself further into Katsuki's room, throwing himself onto the already ruffled bed that sat against the wall. Katsuki could only snort, launching himself onto the bed as well, landing practically on top of Kirishima. "Iida was impressed you managed to clean up after yourself so perfectly."

"I didn't. Just you wait until he spots the mysterious stains that're now part of the ceiling decor."

The laughter that filled the room for the next few minutes felt freeing, like there was nothing left to worry about in the world. Even the silence that came after the last chuckles had died down felt calm and peaceful, not tense in the slightest. Katsuki felt safe to be himself, letting his tics out without hesitation. Most importantly, he felt safe in loving Eijirou, not even flinching when a large calloused hand circled around his.

"I'm really proud of you for telling the rest of the class, Katsuki." The usually loud boy whispered, pulling both of them down to stare up at the ceiling hands still clasped.

Katsuki just shrugged his shoulders, muttering "I should've been nicer 'bout it." He'd had a lot of time to think over the scenario while baking and of course he'd picked apart every single thing he had said. He was trying to be kinder to the rest of the class, now he knew he didn't have to have his walls up all the time he could see how his words and actions might have been affecting some of the class. Sure, he was never going to be as nice or kind as the rest of his friends, but he had at least been trying. And that just made loosing his cool just that much more infuriating.

"I disagree. What you said was perfect." Katsuki could feel Eijirou squeezing his hand tighter and tighter as he thought about the situation. "You're perfect, Katsuki."

Those final words left the blonde flustered to say the least. Ripping his hand away he went to cover his already burning face, holding his breath in a desperate attempt to stop himself from exploding from the emotions that were pushing tightly against his chest.

"Sorry, sorry! That was probably a bit much. I didn't even stop to think about how you felt! I ca-" Kirishima stopped for a second, pausing in the middle of his panicked rant. His eyes were fixed on the curled up figure of the other boy, hope flashing momentarily in his chest. "Are you blushing?"

"Shut the fuck up, Shitty hair! Oh my God, you're gonna kill me."

"I- maybe it's not such a good idea to admit I like you then." Kirishima said with his usual swagger, an unusual amount of confidence considering what he was confessing. The conviction didn't last as long as he was hoping however, his face instantly burning as bright as his hair as he crumbled into a flustered mess just like Katsuki. "Because it'd kill you!" He stammered almost incomprehensibly before throwing his head into his hands. "Jesus, I'm killing myself now. And I really hope I didn't just brutally murder out friendship 'cause that would really suck and-"

It didn't take long for Katsuki to decide to put an end to Eijirou's suffering. The red head's panicked ramblings were only getting weirder, clearly portraying the way the poor boy was spiralling deep in his own head. Katsuki was partly convinced if he didn't say something soon the boy would spontaneously combust.

Leaping across the bed, he cupped the back of Eijirous' neck, pulling his blushing mess of a face so close to his own that their noses bumped just hard enough to cause them to rebound backwards by just a few precious millimetres. "Would it kill you to just kiss me already?" He whispered hoarsely, ears flashing so red they could burn. He had no idea where his confidence was coming from but the the fact it was making Kirishima splutter so much was reason enough to keep it up.

When he saw Eijiros' eyes close he took his chance, tilting his chin forward just a little to connect their lips like the final two pieces of a 1000 piece puzzle. It wasn't frantic. It wasn't heated. It was calm and serene, something that was simply destined to happen since their friendships' flame was first kindled. It was perfect.

The moment was beautiful until the sound of the door cracking open and a disgruntled cough echoed throughout the room. "I'm gonna pretend I didn't see that." Aizawas' gruff voice called from the door causing the two boys to leap apart like Denki had electrocuted them. "In fact, let me try that again." He continued, stepping out of the room and closing the door.

The way Kirishima looked at Katsuki was almost comical, eyes blown wide and breathing halted. His eyes were flitting between the door and the smirk that was plastered across Katsuki's face but the blonde didn't bless him with any answers, simply staring at the door as a loud and obnoxious knock sounded from the wood.

"Ah! Katsuki, there you are!" Shouta said in an extremely exaggerated tone, stepping into the room with his arms spread eagle. "Oh! And Kirishima! What a surprise to see you here."

"Alright, Shouta, get over yourself. What's up?" Katsuki chuckled, pushing himself off of the bed after giving Eijirou one last pat on knee. He was acting cool and collected but internally he was a screaming, flustered ball of emotions.

"You have a letter downstairs that I think you should read." Shouta stated, clapping his hand on his sons' shoulder as he approached the door. Leaning down to Katsuki's ear level he stage whispered so Kirishima could hear as well, "nice one, kiddo. Hizashi is gonna flaunt his 'I told you so' privileges for weeks."

Katsuki shoved his way through the door, desperately trying to hide his rapidly reddening face. "You coming, Eijirou?" He called when he realised the red head still hadn't let the bed, frozen in shock of the last few minutes.

"Uh yeah." Kirishima stuttered, crashing out of the bed and scrambling to join the two others who were beginning their trek to the lift. The walk probably should have been awkward, Katsuki's effective Dad had just walked in on them kissing after all. But the playful teasing and shoving deterred any negative emotions from joining the three. By the time they had made it to the empty dining room where the letter sat Katsuki and Eijirou were holding hands, Katsuki cackling as Aizawa pretended to gag.

Katsuki didn't waste any time in ripping open the letter, it looked official and Aizawa was smiling just a little bit too much for it to be bad news. But as his eyes scanned the paper he couldn't help but feel confusion flitter in to weigh down the initial excitement that had consumed his body. The blatantly obvious 'Tourettes syndrome' written in bold in the diagnostics box was something he shouldn't have been able to see in months.

"But - blasting off - how? I don't understand. I was supposed to be in observation for months." He stuttered, hands shaking as a cynical hope bloomed in his chest.

"Hizashi and I did some digging around your medical files as adoption regulations required and we noticed that you'd been taken to the doctors when you were young for tic like symptoms." Aizawa started, watching as Katsuki handed the letter off to Kirishima, eyes rapidly welling with tears that he willed to disappear. "They appeared to go away after a year so they pegged it as a transient tic disorder but now you have them back it's enough to get the 'late onset' Tourette's diagnosis."

"I don't understand. I don't remember this."

"Kiddo, your parents were incredibly good at getting what they wanted. They must've taught you how to suppress your tics and whatever that entailed was probably traumatic enough to repress to the back of your memories."

"Kats, do you want me to go? This seems kinda intense." Kirishima whispered, clutching the letter in his trembling hands watching in confusion as Katsuki's face slowly began to split into a grin.

Grabbing Eijirous' hand he barrelled into Shouta, dragging the poor squawking boy behind him. Clutching the mans' top with one hand and Kirishimas' hand in the other he sobbed, whispering "thank fucking christ" over and over, getting louder until he suddenly stopped. "I gotta - zap zap - go tell Hitoshi! Eijirou, Dad, stay here!" He sprinted off maniacally, ignoring the fact that Shouta swiftly began choking, Kirishima being forced to slap the poor mans' back. He was too happy to be embarrassed by the fact he had just let 'Dad' slip or that he had just left Eijirou alone with the choking man.

Barreling down the corridors he took absolutely no mercy, screaming "get the fuck out of my way, bitch" to a very stunned looking Iida who didn't even get time to retaliate before Katsuki had skidded around the next corner. Hitoshi lived two buildings over, so Katsuki didn't even bother putting his shoes on, instead jumping out of his slippers, throwing them into his hands to put on later and flying down the pavement. The situation of concrete under his feet reminded him of that day just a few weeks ago, where he was running away from his family. But this time he was running towards them and he couldn't be more grateful.

He was through the front door and up the stairs before any of the other members of class 1-C could even notice he had appeared. He took the stairs two at a time, knowing exactly where he was aiming for. Not even bothering to knock he simply prayed that he wasn't about to walk into a moment like poor Shouta had.

"Hitoshi! Look what I fucking got!" He bellowed, almost tripping through the door frame whilst he attempted to wave the paper in the air while simultaneously putting his slippers back on. Instantly, Hitoshi was off his chair and snatching the paper from Katsukis' flailing hand, eyes skimming the paper like he was in a final exam.

"How-"

"Turns out my shitting ass parents already took me to the doctors about it when I was - blasting off - like a tiny little fucking child or something."

"So it was already on record! Fuck yeah, Katsuki!" Hitoshi actually squealed, looking like he was about to run towards Katsuki for a hug before swiftly turning on his toes and scrambling to his desk for another sheet of paper.

Thrusting the document into Katsukis' hands he jumped up and down, desperately trying to tone down the excitement rushing through his body. "Looks like we've got double the shit to celebrate!"

Looking down at the sheet in his hand, Katsuki smiled. Looks like his final pillar of support would be around him a lot more from now on.

Shinsou Hitoshis' official transfer to class 1-A

*****

It had taken a lot to get to this point, nobody had come out unscathed. But for the first time in his whole life, Katsuki realised what it meant to be happy, to have a family and feel safe to be who he was. Somehow the worst thing to ever happen to him had been the catalyst for everything good in his life, present and future. There's no doubt he'll have tough days ahead of him, being a pro-hero with tics as severe as his is never going to easy. But his support system will be enough to carry him through. He just had to live with a couple tics and scratches.

Chapter Text

Katsuki is not a crier. Well that's a lie. He hasn't been a crier since his adoptive family began carefully sewing the pieces of him back together. His first few months in the Yamada-Aizawa household had been difficult to put it lightly. With the reveal of quite literally all of his secrets, the rushed adoption and finally the court case he had been forced to endure in order to get his parents to stop obsessively sending him revolting messages, it was safe to say that most nights had ended with tears and comforting hugs for a good few months. It hadn't just been difficult for the young blonde though, seeing the previously (seemingly) unwaverable boy break down so often had taken a toll on the rest of the family as well, meaning Katsuki was often not crying alone. But they had made it through together and as soon as his life had settled down a bit they had found that Katsuki went back to a slightly less emotionally constipated version of his previous self. That didn't mean that Katsuki didn't have hard weeks, or even months however, and this came to a rather abrupt peak in the holiday before the beginning of his and Hitoshi's second year at UA.

Katsuki grunted as his fist flew towards his chest yet again, thumping squarely against the dark purple bruise that already resided in that particular position (and had done for the past week.) He had been going through a rough patch with his tics since school had finished for the holidays, the lack of work leaving his brain bored and acting out. He knew the ebbs and flows in tic intensity were part of Tourette's syndrome, but that didn't mean that it wasn't disappointing when a light tic period turned into a heavy one, especially when the heavy periods just never seemed to end. The frustration had been building deep in his chest for a while now, rolling in waves just how it always used to when he was mere minutes away from snapping at Deku. Another hit to his chest had him stifling a yelp as a dull pain radiated throughout his torso, causing the wave of frustration to almost come crashing down.

"Think it might be time to put the gloves on, bud." Shouta called from the kitchen, having heard the grunts of pain and dull smacking from the next room.

Katsuki already felt guilty considering that Hizashi had been forced to escape to his bedroom about 15 minutes earlier after his incessant whistling tics had began to set the older man off as well. But the guilt only grew stronger as he felt irritation creep into his stomach at Shouta's suggestion. He shouldn't feel annoyed, the man did nothing but care for him and that is exactly what he was doing in that precise moment. But Katsuki hated the padded gloves. Yes, they minimised the damage he did to himself when he went through the periods of time when he had these stupid stupid stupid hitting tics. But they made him feel so young and trapped. So fragile.

At first he made no move to get the gloves but after a few more thumps, Shouta peered his eyes around the door that connected the kitchen to the lounge and Katsuki swore the man was somehow staring into his soul. The blonde just rolled his eyes and stood up, practically storming over to the draw where they kept all their first aid gear, pulling on the specially made gloves. Only after having a tic throw them across the room first. Obviously. When he turned around to glare snarkily at Shouta, he saw that the older man had already retreated back into the kitchen and he felt his irritation morph into something darker and sadder. They'd had the gloves made specially for him, laced with some unique material that meant his sweat wouldn't gather and explode unprompted while he was wearing them. They'd probably cost an arm and a leg and yet he was still trying to throw attitude about having to wear them. He could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes at the whole situation, but he swallowed them back down, determined to not cry over something so trivial. He reasoned that he was just tired and frustrated at how bad his tics had been lately, no reason to warrant crying. So he sat back down on the sofa, arms crossed as he sulkily carried on with his sudoku, waiting impatiently for Hitoshi to come back from hanging out with Dunceface.

*****

His tics had carried on in this self-destructive manner for another few days, leaving him constantly on edge and practically trapped in his padded gloves. But eventually one afternoon, after an exceedingly painful couple of weeks, Katsuki ripped off the gloves, declaring that it had officially been 3 hours since he had last hit himself. Sauntering over to the first aid draw, he proudly deposited both gloves as Hizashi clapped and cheered behind him, Shouta and Hitoshi sarcastically joining in only after being elbowed in the ribs by the excited cockatoo.

The young blonde felt what could only be described as triumph as he let Jelly slowly crawl onto his lap again for the first time in weeks. Its not like she hadn't been trying to win cuddles off of Katsuki, but anytime any of the cats got even remotely close to him he had been calling someone to pull them off. There was absolutely no way he was going to risk sending one of them accidentally flying. But he felt relatively under control in that moment, gloves off and a movie on that the whole family had actually agreed on (a somewhat rare occurrence.)

His blissful relaxation only lasted a grand total of approximately 20 minutes however as his vocal tics increased and increased in intensity, whistles and shouts pushing their way out of his chest almost rhythmically. He thought it would be fine until he felt the now familiar restlessness spread into his forearm and suddenly he felt panic drop into his stomach like a hot stone.

"Someone take Jelly." He stammered, whistling between his words, arms locked at his sides as he tried to fight the tics. "Fucking hell, take her now!" He yelled as he made eye contact with Hitoshi who was just about to launch himself across the sofa. But it was too late. Katsuki's arm stuttered upwards before falling back downwards, landing directly on Jelly's back. The cat wasn't actually hurt, Katsuki had luckily managed to redirect most of the tic into hitting himself hard just seconds afterwards. But Jelly still startled, jumping off of his lap and sprinting out of the door. The room was briefly quiet, only the sound of Hizashi's and Katsuki's tics rebounding off of the walls filling the silence.

"Kiddo, don't worry. Jelly's fine -" Aizawa began, seemingly about to stand up to comfort the stunned boy.

"Don't." Katsuki breathed out sharply, suddenly hauling himself out of his seat and stalking across the room to yank his gloves on harshly. "I just need -" He sighed, voice craking as he desperately tried to push down the tears that were threatening to spill. "I just need a fucking moment."

The others stayed silent, knowing it was difficult for Katsuki to express himself like this. It was something he'd been working on with the therapist that Shouta had practically bullied him into seeing. In any other situation he would have been so proud of himself, immediately sending a message to her depicting his triumphs. But right then he was just so angry with himself. How could he hurt something so precious to him? What if he hadn't managed to pull back slightly? What if one day he hurt a citizen he was trying to save? Without another word, Katsuki left to lock himself in his bedroom not to be seen until the next morning, gloves still firmly secured onto his hands.

*****

An entire week had passed before Shouta was eventually able to persuade Katsuki to take off the gloves. Shouta couldn't help but think it was sweet that the usually stoic blonde would go to such lengths to keep himself from possibly hurting a small fluffy cat, but he knew the constant use of the gloves was coming from a new deeply rooted pit of insecurity and anxiety that was festering in the blonde.

"You're not going to hurt anybody, kiddo." He said simply, taking the gloves off of the reluctant Katsuki and immediately placing them in the 'to wash' pile.

"But-"

"No buts!" Shouta interrupted before the kid could go on some long self-deprecating rant that would only end up with anger. "Unless you are hitting yourself or somebody else continuously there is no need for the gloves."

"I just don't want to - blast off - hurt anybody." Katsuki mumbled before stating clearly. "Unless I fucking want to. Obviously."

"Jelly was fine wasn't she! She probably couldn't even remember why she was jumping off of your lap." Shouta stated. "Sure, you've given us all an accidental smack around once or twice but nothing like what we get when training. So don't worry about it."

At the slight wobble of the young blonde's lip, the telltale sign that he was going to cry which he always resolutely denied existed, Aizawa reached over and pulled him into a hug. He knew these past few weeks had been tiring for Katsuki, constant ticcing was mentally as well as physically challenging especially when his diagnosis was still so fresh. The young boy had already gone through so much, loosing one family over something he couldn't even control meant that no matter how safe the Yamada-Aizawa household made him feel, there would still always be that inkling of fear and loss settled deep in Katsuki. Shouta knew there was no way he could take that all away, but he was trying his damn hardest to regardless.

The hug lasted a while, it was well overdue and a couple of hard unintentional back slaps from Katsuki were not going to deter Shouta in the slightest. But he did think it was weird when Katsuki suddenly went rigid in his arms.

"Whats - OOF."

Katsuki rocketed backwards, staring in horror as his teacher- no. Dad - doubled over, clutching his stomach and wheezing. He couldn't get himself to help, couldn't even say sorry as he stared at his own hand that was beginning to pulse with the aftermath of punching Aizawa.

"Got me - goo- got me good there, b-bud." Shouta managed to stammer out, clutching the arm of the chair beside him with one arm and his abdomen with the other, desperately trying to pull himself together despite the fact his breaths were stuttering in and out of him in a manner that he couldn't control. Rather impressively so, Katsuki's tics had managed to smack Shouta in the stomach so suddenly and so hard that he had been winded. But despite the minor panic that was coursing through the man, an inane survival instinct at best, he knew whatever was going through his sons mind was far worse. "Don't worry." He wheezed, attempting to start his sentence again. "Don't wor - worry, Kiddo. You just caught - caught me by surprise is all. Fucking hell, that was a good one."

When he finally looked up again he noticed one key thing, and that was that Katsuki was absolutely sobbing his heart out, tears pouring down his face as sobs racked through his hunched frame. "Katsuki, seriously it's fine. You didn't mean too." He grunted, reaching out to take his son's arm.

"Don't touch me!" Katsuki snarled, stumbling backwards eyes wide and panicked as he scrubbed at the tears that were still falling.

"Okay, okay!" Aizawa rushed out, his hands raised after realising that Katsuki was far more than just upset. "I'm not gonna touch you, alright bud? You're fine. Everything's fine."

Suddenly, Shouta heard pounding footsteps and a skid as Hizashi came sliding through the door. "What's going on?" He rushed, eyes landing on the panicking Katsuki.

"We're alright. One of his tics just winded me for a second. Right, Katsuki?" Shouta replied, watching hesitantly as Hizashi made an attempt at reaching over to touch the boys' shoulder.

"Stop! Stop, stop stop." Katsuki repeated, dodging Hizashi to isolate himself in the corner of the room, tics flaring as he hit his own chest over and over. "You can't -bah! - touch me. I'll -" He gulped. "I'll just hurt you!"

Hizashi threw a quick glance at Shouta, concern and pain swirling behind his eyes. "Hey, little listener, you're not gonna hurt us." He placated, looking like he was having to use every fiber of his being to not step towards Katsuki again.

"I just -blasting off- fucking did! I - I hurt him! And then I just stood there like some fucking villain ."

"Woah! Okay, let's stop there Kiddo. It was my bad." Shouta said, putting his hand out to stop Katsuki when he looked like he was about to interrupt. "You body gave me a clear sign that something like that was about to happen. I was just too distracted to recognise it, alright? I've learnt for next time." Katsuki was still crying, fat tears rolling down his cheeks for the first time in weeks, maybe even months.

"How about snacks and a movie?" Hizashi suggested, scampering off to grab the popcorn the minute Katsuki gave even the slightest grin. "I'm picking what we watch though!" He called from the kitchen over the sound of the microwave already whirring.

"No fair, old man!" Katsuki shouted back, cheekily grinning at Shouta. "You're taking advantage of my trauma so you can watch that stupid fucking cat movie again!"

When the only reply from the kitchen was an extremely indignant squawk and the sound of the microwave dinging, Shouta looked over and watched as Katsuki openly winced, smacking his chest yet again. "Think the gloves might be a good idea though, huh?" He stated carefully.

"Guess they would be. Sorry for beaming you, Dad." Shouta nearly chocked, somehow more surprised by the apology than the use of 'Dad'.

"Did I just hear the Katsuki Yamada-Aizawa apologise?" Hizashi practically screamed from the kitchen, voice high and incredulous.

"Nah. Think you need to get your ears checked." Katsuki smirked, throwing another cheeky grin at Shouta.

"I've got my hearing aids in you little shit! Who's taking advantage of who now then, huh?" Hizashi had his full levels of sass out now, eyebrows raised as he spilt popcorn everywhere with his over-the-top arm waving.

"Alright, settle down you two. What's that 'stupid fucking cat movie' you like called again Hizashi?" Shouta said, already sinking himself deep into the sofa, grinning as Katsuki began yelling incoherently. There was never a dull moment in their house, and thats just how they all liked it.