Work Text:
*****
It was still dark when you woke up.
Your throat felt tight, clogged with tears. You were no stranger to nightmares; you’ve had them for most of your life. But that didn’t make the dreaming nor the waking any easier.
Cold sweat ran down your back, soaking your nightshirt.
Moonlight filtered through windows, the only source of light in the room.
You could see a faint outline of your reflection in the glass. For once, you looked...normal. Terrified, yes, your hair falling in sweat-soaked clumps, fever-bright eyes staring back at you. But your face was whole. No blood, no injuries, no scars that gave you shivers to simply look at.
You wondered how that would change when you actually touched the glass and activated your quirk.
Fear made your throat close.
Fear and an odd sense of familiarity.
You looked away.
In your own apartment, you had put up heavy curtains to cover all the windows. The only mirror you owned had always been kept in the back of your closet, wrapped in old newspapers.
But you weren’t in your apartment, at least not for tonight.
Beside you, Bakugou Katsuki, shifted in his sleep, muttering something under his breath. Something about that made you smile. Who would have known that the famous hero Ground Zero liked to talk in his sleep?
You had tried to listen several times, but it was always something nonsensical, though you did catch idiot and bastard once.
Your skin itched. Every building, every house you had ever been in, you had always known the escape routes, the quickest path to the nearest exit.
In hotels, you had always stayed in the rooms on the ground floor.
Yet here you were, on the second floor of an unfamiliar house, in a bed that wasn’t yours.
Or perhaps, it wasn’t quite true to say that you were unfamiliar with the house.
You knew that the coffee was in a cupboard above the sink, purposely put there to annoy you because you couldn’t quite reach it.
You knew that in the fridge, there was a small box of dark chocolates. Katsuki didn’t like sweets, and always pulled a face whenever you forced him to share one with you. But he’d always keep the fridge stocked with something to satisfy your sweet tooth.
You knew that two of the drawers in his closet were yours, if only because Katsuki purposefully never put anything of his in there.
You knew that knowing all this scared you.
You had spent most of your life running, staying in cheap motels, in old, rundown houses where the landlords were usually too high or too apathetic to remember your face. This was the longest you’d ever stayed in one place.
You jumped when you felt calloused fingers touch the small of your back, running in a straight line down to your hip.
“Hurts?” Katsuki asked, his voice still slightly slurred from sleep.
It did, actually. A stripe of heat that throbbed relentlessly whenever you moved too fast or shifted in the wrong direction. You had refused to take any painkillers for it, disliking the way they muddled your thoughts or slowed your reflexes.
He took your silence for a yes, and clicked his tongue in disapproval.
“Bastard got in a cheap shot,” he said.
“I’m fine,” you lied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
You meant the last part, though; he had been on the news that day, a live feed of him fighting a villain whose name you couldn’t even remember.
You had felt ill, hearing people cheer him on, even as you watched him take a hit that sent bolts of pain searing up your back.
A muffled snort, and you felt him shift restlessly in bed.
“Do you really think someone like that could take me down?” There was no heat in his words though, and he kept rubbing the spot on your back.
You smiled, feeling your face protest at the motion. “Not really. But I was worried.”
Katsuki didn’t say anything, instead drawing slow circles on your skin. You’d learned early on that he was not a fan of small talk.
Every time you turned your head, you could see your reflection on the window glass, dead eyes staring back at you.
“I was thinking…”
He grunted.
“Would you mind if I put up some new curtains? The light’s bothering me.”
Katsuki opened his eyes to stare at you, scowling.
“Bothering you,” he repeated, flatly.
You froze, wondering if you’ve gone too far. Most of your life had been spent hiding and dodging and cowering in every dark corner you could find. You didn’t exactly have time for relationships. Maybe asking to redecorate his room had been too much?
Then Katsuki reached up flicked your nose.
“Stop that. We’ll get your damn curtains, if that’s what you really want. What I want to know is if it’s really the light that’s bothering you or if you’ve been having nightmares again.”
You stared at him, feeling your face grow warm.
He had never been fond of lies, even little white ones.
You had been having nightmares for as long as you could remember. But you never had anyone to talk to, before. You were surprised that Katsuki even noticed. You had always made sure that you stayed quiet, whenever you stayed over at his house.
“Oi. Fucking tell me what it is so we can get back to sleep.”
He knew about your quirk, but he had never seen its effects before. You slid out of his bed , and Katsuki made a small, disapproving noise, but didn’t try to stop you.
Your reflection grew larger as you came closer, until you could see all the little details on your face. There was a tiny scar, just above your lip; three years ago, one of the monsters had seized you in your sleep, and you had to bite down on it to free yourself. Your hair looked frayed and brittle, courtesy of the numerous dye jobs you had done to disguise yourself.
The glass felt cool underneath your fingertips, and your own face stared back at you..
You looked scared, tired .
“Are you going to show me your quirk, or are you just going to stand there looking sad?” Katsuki’s harsh voice broke through your thoughts.
He sounded fully awake now, and irritable with it.
You couldn’t help but smile at that. The man could die in battle and he’d still find enough energy to be angry at the Grim Reaper for showing up late.
You activated your quirk.
The familiar chill rushed through you, and the face in the window... changed.
It was still you. But it was obvious that something horrible had happened. A wide gash appeared across your throat, blood cascading from the open wound. It had been so deeply slashed that you see dark, glistening meat inside, the flash of something that could have been bone.
But the worst of it was your eyes, bright and shining and painfully, utterly aware.
Behind you, Katsuki sucked in his breath sharply.
Your fingers broke contact with the glass, and the image disappeared.
Again.
Your face again, your skull dented due to some unknown force, one eye rolled back into your head, the other still staring back at you, sightless.
A third touch and you were just...gone.
No reflection. No bloody injuries. Nothing.
That happened sometimes, too.
“Stop.”
Warm fingers wrapped around yours and pulled them away from the glass; you didn’t even hear him get up. You hadn’t even realized how cold you were until Katsuki wrapped his arms around you. You pressed your cheek against his bare shoulder, relishing his heat.
He was always so warm.
“These things...they’re the future?”
His voice was calm, steady; so different from his usual tone.
“Possible ones, yes.” You shivered, a nd he held you closer, one hand pressed atop your head, gently turning your face away from the window.
“Explain.”
You pulled away, so you could stare at him in the face. Even in the dim light, his eyes seemed to shine.
“The future isn’t set in stone,” you said. “So it’s constantly shifting, changing outcomes. Every time someone, somewhere, makes a choice, it can change what I See. I might See a man die in an airplane accident tomorrow, but if he happened to miss his flight, the next time I See him, he’ll probably still be alive.”
Katsuki seemed to mull this over for a few seconds, before looking back at you.
“I get it,” he said slowly. “So what you’re telling me is that it’s all bullshit.”
That startled a laugh out of you, and the sound of it echoed across the small room. You had never known anyone to treat the future with such flippancy, but then again, Katsuki had always been the sort of person who lived in the present.
“Some people would take offense,” you said, smiling. “That is still my quirk, you know.”
But it was hard to stay mad at him, hard to even think about getting mad at him, not when his fingers are threading through your hair to soothe you, not when he was so warm, and you were so tired. All you wanted to do was sink into him and sleep.
He scowled at you.
“Well, it i s !” he snapped. “If it’s constantly changing, why would you ever want to worry about something that might never happen in the first place?”
That made the smile slide off your face, and just like that, you were cold again.
“Because,” you said simply. “In almost every future I See, I’m dead.”
The word dead hung in the air like a lingering scent.
“Not all of them.”
You blinked. “What?”
Katsuki’s hand, which had previously been stroking your hair, rubbed your head, almost to an aggressive degree, like petting a dog you’re annoyed with.
“You said almost , you didn’t say all . So that must mean that there are some futures where you are alive.”
You stared at him, feeling your face grow warm again. You found yourself not being quite able to look at his eyes.
“Uh…”
“So quit worrying about it. If anything else turns up, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” He grinned then, smugness practically radiating off him. “I’m Ground Zero, after all.”
You swallowed. There was no point in trying to convince him. Years and years of running and hiding didn’t seem to affect your future; you doubted that a hero, even someone as strong as him, could change it.
You wondered if he’ll feel it, when you die.
You wondered if he’ll hate you for that.
“Hey.” A sharp pain in your ear brought you back to reality. “I said quit worrying about it, dammit! Whatever the hell turns up, I’ll take care of it, okay?!”
“Did you actually box my ear ? What are you, my mother?”
“That’s what you get for not listening to me! You actually think those booger-faced fucks can beat me ?!” Katsuki actually looked offended. He’d seen them once, before, the shadow creatures that had harrowed you since you were seven.
He had blown them up, and declared himself unimpressed.
But they always came back.
“Those ‘booger-faced fucks’ have been chasing me for most of my life,” you muttered. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m actually pretty damn scared of them.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because you’re not as strong as me,” he said smugly.
“Gee, thanks. I feel so reassured.”
“You should be. Nothing’s going to hurt you, okay? So shut up, and let’s get back to sleep. We’ll get your damn curtains in the morning.”
You allowed him to lead you back to bed, and you noticed how he kept one large hand around the back of your neck, so you wouldn’t be tempted to look back at the window.
The two of you lay in bed for a long time after that; you could tell that he was still awake from his stillness. Katsuki had always been a restless sleeper, and had once even kicked you out of bed in his sleep.
He must be more bothered than he was letting on.
“Hey.” His voice was unnaturally soft, almost hesitant.
You tensed. He could have asked you any number of questions, your past, your future, your connection with the strange shadow monsters that had pursued you for more than a decade.
You could lie. You were used to that.
You had lied about your own name so many times that it didn’t even feel yours anymore.
But he was your soulmate, and he deserved better than that.
And he hated lies.
You braced yourself for the question.
What would happen to our bond when you die?
What did you do to make these creatures start chasing you?
What did you do to survive?
What did you do to survive ?
You swallowed.
Katsuki turned to you, and his face looked unnaturally peaceful. In fact, he seemed almost shy.
“In the future...the ones where you were alive. Did you…” He cut himself off, turning red. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
You blinked. That was new.
Usually, people were always clamoring to hear about the future. Their loved ones’ or theirs’, it didn’t matter, they’d grab your hands and beg you to look, look, look. Their eyes hungry and hot and burning a hole straight through you.
They’d shove their money at you, held knives to your throat, all for a glimpse into their own future.
But Katsuki seemed almost embarrassed to ask.
“Hey,” you said gently, touching his shoulder. “It’s okay. I don’t mind you asking.”
His skin felt so warm, almost feverish; a side effect of his quirk, you guessed.
“It’s nothing.” He had actually turned away from you, his face buried against his pillow. The tips of his ears were turning red.
It was cute, you decided. And it made for a welcome distraction.
“Were you going to ask if you’re going to be the number one hero?” you guessed, rubbing his arm soothingly. You could feel corded muscles shifting underneath his skin as he shrank away from you.
“No,” Katsuki growled, his voice muffled. “I don’t need your quirk to know I’ll be the number one hero one day. You’ll just make yourself tired.”
“Then what is it? You asked in the futures where I’m alive…”
He finally lifted his face to look at you, and you could see that his entire face was flushed, even down to his neck. A small, wicked part of you wondered just how far down that flush would go, and you found yourself grinning.
Katsuki always found ways to distract you from your own dark thoughts, even if he sometimes did it unintentionally.
“Yeah. I mean...did you see any...dammit! Just forget about it and go to sleep!”
You couldn’t let this one go, and while you could use your quirk to pick out a future where he did tell you whatever was on his mind, you figured that it would be way more fun to get him to tell you himself.
You could live in the present, too, sometimes.
Katsuki had turned his back on you, but you were already winding your arms around his hips, enjoying his brief jolt at the coolness of his skin . You nuzzled into his neck, feeling his pulse jump against your cheek.
He wasn’t as unaffected as he’d like to pretend.
“It’s okay, you know,” you said softly. “It’s the least I can do for you.”
Your hands drifted to his, and he didn’t protest when you laced your fingers together. You could feel the numerous callouses, the scars, acquired from long years of training and fighting.
Maybe not facing you made it easier for him, or maybe he knew that you weren’t going to let this one go, but finally, Katsuki spoke.
“In the future. Did you see any of my, no, our ...dammit, I can feel you smiling, stop smiling! Forget it and go to sleep, before I knock you unconscious!”
But it had already clicked, and you were sucking in your breath with barely suppressed glee.
You disentangled yourself from him, and sat up, feeling a wide grin spread across your face.
“Katsuki,” you asked, and your voice came out high and excited. “Katsuki, are you asking about kids ? Our kids?”
“NO!”
“You were! Who knew that Ground Zero has a thing for babies?” you said, clapping your hands gleefully. But even as you teased him, you could feel a spreading warmth in your chest.
That he had considered a future with you, even after knowing what could happen…
You wanted to kiss him, you nearly did, but he hissed at swiped at you.
“No, I don’t! I’ll make you take care of them! Little snot-nosed brats…”
“Then why were you asking me about them just now, hm?”
“Just…” Katsuki struggled for words for a brief moment, then settled back on the sheets, glaring up at you, obviously too sleepy to continue the argument further.
You settled yourself on top of him, feeling yourself rise and fall with each breath he took.
“Stop smiling at me,” he snapped. “It’s creepy.”
Even as he said it though, you could feel one hand settling on your hip, sliding underneath your shirt to rub slow circles on your skin.
“I’ve seen...someone though,” you said, thoughtfully. “Several times.”
It hurt sometimes, to talk about the futures where you lived, just because it was so damned hard to find one where you were alive.
But some time ago, you had developed this habit . In between the running and the odd jobs you would take for extra cash. In the small, dark rooms you stayed in, when no one else was awake, you would put your hand over chest and feel your own steady heartbeat.
You would count the beats sometimes or count your own breaths, and you remembered how every beat, every breath, seemed like an act of rebellion all on its own.
How, despite the odds, you were alive.
And you would... surf.
Like a television addict flipping channels, obsessively trying to find the one thing that could hold their interest, you would flip through all possible futures.
Hundreds and hundreds of deaths, some with your mouths still open in their last scream, some with your jaw completely ripped off its hinges.
And amidst the death and destruction and blood, you’d find...something different.
A child with blonde hair and red eyes, looking back at you. A smile so huge it seemed to swallow his eyes.
He opened his mouth.
And called you Mommy .
“He has your hair and eyes,” you said, softly. “That’s how I knew what you looked like before I even met you. He looked nothing like me.”
Katsuki’s breathing slowed, and he was staring up at the ceiling. The steady motions of his hand stopped.
“He?” he asked hoarsely. “A boy?”
He was decidedly not looking at you.
“Yes.”
You hesitated, before adding more.
Years and years of ache and homesickness had left you with a desire to know more about this child, this small boy who could be your future. For a while, you had settled into this future, like an addict with a favorite drug. Or a starving man at a feast. You had memorized his features, his smile, his words, until you could practically see him in your dreams.
This boy could be yours.
“He cries,” you said, softly. “A lot.”
“Must take after you, then,” Katsuki replied.
You smiled, wanting to hit him for that comment, but not finding the energy.
“What does he cry about?”
“Oh, little things. He cries when I put him down. When he can’t follow me around the house. He cried when you didn’t want to take him on a hero mission.”
Katsuki’s breath stuttered in his chest and he closed his eyes. His arms wrapped around you protectively.
You wondered if he was thinking about the boy or your death.
“He has your quirk,” you whispered. “I always see scorch marks on the floor. Or on his chair. Or the table. Everywhere, really.”
You were glad for that. You didn’t want any child of yours to inherit your quirk.
A smile twitched on Katsuki’s lips.
“Of course, he does.” He hesitated, finally looking down at you. “Just one?”
“There’s another one. A girl.”
A girl. A girl with the same hair color as yours, running down past her back. You had seen her, putting out her hand at the side of a dinner table, just in time to catch a spoon her brother had knocked off it.
You had seen her walking across the playground, band-aid in hand, just before her brother fell down.
Utterly self-possessed, even as a child.
And her face was calm, so calm. Like nothing in the world could surprise her. But she would smile whenever her brother came close to her.
“Tell me about her.”
“She looks like me,” you said, softly.
“Beautiful, then.”
You looked up, startled. Compliments never really came easily to Bakugou Katsuki, but right then, he was smiling at you, and there was so much tenderness in his eyes that you thought your heart would break.
“She has long hair,” you whispered. “I think you like to brush it. She’s always sitting on your lap.”
You paused for a long moment before continuing, “Katsuki, she has my quirk.”
“What does she do with it?”
“Mostly keeps her brother out of trouble.”
Katsuki snorted.
“Yeah, sounds about right,” he said, lazily.
The two of you were quiet then, lost in your own thoughts.
Your quirk could be cruel, in its own way. You had once spent an entire night watching them, a hollow feeling in your chest, like your own heart had been carved out of you.
How can you miss something you never had?
It was Katsuki who spoke first.
“I want that future.”
You blinked, sure that you had heard wrong. “What did you say…?”
“I want that future,” he said, again. “So none of this dying shit. I want you to live long enough to see our little hellspawn.”
“Katsuki,” you hissed. “Don’t call them that! They’re our kids!”
He patted your cheek, his expression smug, “Haven’t even met them yet and you’re already protective. You are so getting saddled with the babysitting duty.”
You swatted at him, your face burning.
“But what about…” You stopped yourself. You didn’t want to break the tender moment between you, talking about kids and the future and living .
“Shut up. You’ve seen it, haven’t you? That means a future does exist where you’re alive. It’s just a matter of making it happen.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works…” you muttered underneath your breath.
But Katsuki heard you, and he shrugged, a careless, easy motion.
“You said it yourself, the future isn’t set in stone. You wouldn’t know that you’re going to die for sure until you’re actually dying . And fuck, if I’m not going to let that happen.”
You swallowed down whatever protest was forming on your lips.
You loved him, then, as much as you had ever loved anything in your life. This hard, brash man who came into your life and called you an idiot for ever being afraid of the future.
He was braver than you could ever hope to be.
“Katsuki?” You could feel your heart beating against your chest, and it would have been easy, maybe the easiest thing in the world to say something teasing, something to make him snap at you and forget the weight of the situation.
But you wanted to do it, in this moment, now.
He must have heard something in your voice because his grip tightened around you, as if he meant to keep you there, in his arms, “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
He stopped breathing.
It was the first time you’d ever said it.
You had always been terrified of what it would do to him, when you died.
If you died.
“So much,” you whispered.
Because even if you died tomorrow or next week or a year from now, you realized that you wanted him to know.
Not when you were gone.
Not in that distant, maybe possible future, when you are holding his children in your arms.
Now. In the present.
You were learning to live there, too.
You could feel his hand, heavy and warm against your back.
His eyes were fixed on the ceiling again, and you could feel him slowly, slowly start breathing again.
And when he spoke, his voice was so soft that it barely stirred the air around it, “I love you, too.”