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Nov 16, 2019

here it is , the All Might death fic, roughly 4k words of pain ft; Izuku being a mess, Melissa deserving the world, and Bakugo starting a fistfight (for the greater good)

warning; major character death. no gore or graphic depictions but a lot about the grieving process.

blame @eighthilles

“Sir? Sir, you can’t go back there--” A nurse pleads after Izuku as he follows the stretcher through the expansive hallways of the hospital. Towards one of their surgical rooms. He can’t quite see, over the seeming ocean of hospital staff. Doctors and nurses dressed in crisp, clean clothing, and masks on their faces.

A bit of blond hair, one hazy, blue eye, the tips of bony fingers. And then someone’s holding him back as their wheeling the only father he’s ever known beyond huge, unyielding, double doors.

“No, no,” He protests, plaintively, but not truly putting up enough of a fight to potentially hurt the one restraining him. “I have to see him, I have to…”

I have so much I need to say.

I’m sorry

Thank you

I love you

Please don’t go

Seeming to sense his escalation in panic, the nurse gently guides him back to the waiting area. For some reason the touch is calming, and he can feel his adrenaline draining away slowly. A result of her quirk, in all likelihood, but even calmed he’s in no state to analyze it properly.

“I understand how you feel,” The woman attempts to soothe “But the sooner Mr. Yagi gets into surgery, the better his chances are.”

“Chances?” Izuku parrots, unintelligently, throat closing. “He’s going to be fine, right? He’s going to be ok?”

The nurse looks at him sadly, but doesn’t say yes. Instead she hands him a clipboard, asks him to fill it out; and tells him that she will let him know when they know something.

Izuku takes the forms and nods numbly. Spends a long time staring at the page without really seeing the question. Pen in hand and pressed against the paper but not writing a word.

How many of these questions can he actually answer? He doesn’t know any of this. Not Medical History or Family History or Medications. Even at their closest the retired pro had a habit of hiding his ailments in a ridiculous attempt to not become a ‘burden’ like he could ever be that after everything he’d done for Izuku, for the world.

The young hero begins to fill out what little information he does know. Name, age, occupation. Details the injury that All Might received from All For One nearly two decades prior. Tries not to think about how he’s the least qualified person in the world to be doing this.

And yet, somehow, he’d been All Might’s emergency contact.

He’d almost ignored the incoming call from an unknown number, deeply entrenched in getting the paperwork for the still fledgling agency sorted. No sidekicks meant that each hero had to pull their weight with police reports, incident reports, press releases. Not to mention the reassignment applications, recommendation letters, and other legal documents pertaining to the people who entered their doors looking for help. It added up, quickly, and it needed to be done.

That, in the end, was why he’d ended up relenting and answering his insistently ringing cell phone. After all, it could be an emergency.

It was an emergency.

“...ku?”

Izuku’s head snapped to attention at the sound of someone speaking directly to him, looking up at what he assumed was another doctor. Dressed in a white coat over formal attire. The older man looked familiar, somehow, but he couldn’t exactly place it. But he was smiling at Izuku with a nervous warmth.

“Deku,” the doctor starts again, and the hero’s name causes some heads to turn. Izuku isn’t shocked he wasn’t recognized earlier, he rarely is; out of costume. He didn’t have the remarkable stature of some of his colleagues and he wasn’t exactly exuding his normal levels of confidence.

“You saved my family, three years ago,” he prompts, as if sensing that Izuku has no recollection. Ah, now he remembers. This man and two young girls trapped beneath a collapsed building, fires from a barely over villain fight still raging. Of course, there were plenty of other heroes on the scene as well, all performing similar rescues. It wasn’t exactly an extraordinary achievement.

“I’m glad everyone was ok,” Izuku says, somewhat mechanically, still unable to quite function under the circumstances. “My fa...All Migh...Yagi Toshinori, do you know what happened? Will he be ok?”

The doctor’s expression shifts, closely mirroring the look of pained empathy the nurse had given Izuku before.

“Mr. Yagi suffered from acute heart failure, seemingly caused by stress. A neighbor found him outside his apartment and made the call to have him brought in. His condition is very unstable, and we won’t know until we’ve cleared the blockage if there’s been any permanent damage…”

Somewhere along the way Izuku stops listening to the explanation. Alone, he’d been all alone. Did he see? Did he hear? Did he know Izuku was here, before they took him away? Even if he didn’t….he had to know he was loved, right?

“...let you know when I know more,” The doctor concludes and Izuku nods to indicate he’d heard at least that much.

______________________

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” The doctor says, not even an hour later. And he does, truly, seem sincere. But Izuku cannot comprehend it. Dead. All Might was…

Gone.

It didn’t make any sense. Of course no one is immortal, of course All Might had that old injury to contend with. But he was always ok. Even after his retirement, he was always ok. Until he wasn’t.

The doctor is explaining, now, what went wrong during surgery. How they’d lost him on the table. How he was under anesthetic at the time, asleep. Hadn’t felt a thing.

Good, that’s good. He deserved to go peaceful.

Izuku abruptly stands up, hands the doctor the partially filled out forms, and fishes out his phone.

“Calls,” He mumbles to himself in a tone of voice so robotic even he doesn’t recognize himself. “I need to...call people. Let them know. Make arrangements.”

The doctor seems puzzled by his reaction, but gives him his space as he paces their waiting room making call after call.

“Mom? It’s Izuku,”

“Melissa? This is Midoriya Izuku,”

“Lemillion? It’s Deku,”

Over and over, repeating the news. Apologizing. Listening to the immediate, intense, feelings of grief and wondering what is wrong with him to just feel...hollow.

“Hello? Iida, it’s me, I’m at the hospital and…”

_______________________

The calls continue, well into the night and now into the next day. Izuku’s in his office once more, dressed in the same clothes as the day prior. Looking disheveled and focused. A ghost of his high-school years.

The other heroes working at the agency move around him nervously. Looking at him, then whispering to each other. He ignores it, there’s too much to do. The funeral service, friends and family. Then, of course, the public memorial. There’s the matter of what to do with possessions in All Might’s now vacant apartment, plus his remaining assets.

He’s muttering to himself now he’s aware, because more heads are turning towards him. More concerned expressions.

“Dekukun,” It’s Uraraka who seems to be feeling brave, approaching the manic hero directly “You should go home and rest, you look like you haven’t slept at all,”

“I can’t, I have to stay. I have to get things ready. The casket and flowers and...shit, I almost forgot, Katsuki and Melissa are stateside, I’ll have to book a flight--” He reaches for the phone but Uraraka puts her hand over that.

“We’ll handle that,” She says with a look that says even more pointedly that this isn’t up for debate. “That’s the point isn’t it? For us all to work as equals,”

And she’s right. That is the point of the agency. But this isn’t agency work.

“This is different, it has to be me,” Izuku shakes his head.

“Why?” Todoroki asks, not bothering to hide that he was eavesdropping on their conversation; his stare piercing through Izuku’s entire being.

“Because…” Because he owes it to All Might. Because he hadn’t been there, let him die alone. Because he’d never done what he was supposed to, never made things right. Never said all those things on the tip of his tongue. Had let his fear swallow him whole and now there was nothing left to do except arrange All Might’s funeral.

“It’s my responsibility,” Izuku says, simply. Firmly. Gathering his notes and list of numbers and cell phone. “I’ll go home, do the rest of this there. I shouldn’t be disturbing your work. I’ll be back after the memorial has finished.”

No one stops him from making his exit.

______________________________

“Izuku!” Melissa calls out the moment she sees him by the baggage claim. Katsuki stays a distance a way, watching as the young engineer rushes to hug the haggard looking hero.

Startled, just for a moment, he stumbles a foot back. Melissa, seeming to have predicted this, keeps him up right as she buries her face in his shoulder. “I can’t believe Uncle Might is gone,”

Slowly, he wraps his arms around her as well, holding her close and letting her tears wet the fabric of his shirt. He has no idea what to say, no words of comfort, so he just holds her while she collects herself. Ignores Katsuki glaring daggers at him over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Melissa says, finally, after coming up for air “I’m sorry, you must be more upset than anyone and here I am carrying on--”

“I’m fine,” Izuku replies with a tilted smile, squeezing her hand. “It’s good to see you.”

She pulls away, brushing off her clothes and sniffling a bit; clearly on the verge of even more tears. “My dad wanted to be here, too, but…”

“I know. I tried to pull some strings, get him amnesty so that he could attend but…” he trails off, shaking his head. The authorities had been clear, they consider David Shield to be too dangerous for such a journey. It was unfair, after just one incident all those years ago. It left Melissa alone, too.

“I booked you guys rooms at a hotel not far from where the service will be held, I’ll take you over so you can get some rest,” He changes the subject to one that is slightly less awkward. Katsuki continues to not say anything as he follows Izuku and Melissa out of the airport.

________________________

There isn’t much time left before the funeral service, and a lot of things to get done before hand. At least, that’s what Izuku tells himself in order to keep busy after all the invitations had been passed out and the funeral arrangements made.

He’d found a lovely funeral home to plan everything, they handled a lot of heroes. Izuku was asked to make a few decisions. Flowers, venue. What All Might was to wear when he was buried. He had suits, more fitted to his form after his retirement, but there were his hero costumes as well. Of every era. That could be refitted if needed.

Izuku thought it would be unfair, after all All Might had done for this world, to have to remain the Symbol of Peace even after being buried. And, selfishly, he wanted to say goodbye not to his childhood hero but to the man who raised him. So he’d decided on a suit.

But using the funeral home meant that there wasn’t much of an active role in the planning process. Which means large blocks of time which Izuku had requested off of work to do nothing but sit and stare at the wall. Or worse, be passed from person to person as they all expressed their condolences.

The brief stints on which he paid visits to his own apartment he’d been handed enough home made meals to feed the entirety of Japan. He’d brought them to the agency, so they could be passed out to anyone who was currently using it as refuge. It wasn’t as if he’d eat all that regardless.

That had killed an hour or so, but had come with the extra painful process of each one of his friends telling him to ‘take it easy’ and then having to persuade them that he was fine, really.

And he was. He was fine. Oddly fine. Exhausted, sure, but he’d been busy. He keeps waiting to not be fine. For it to finally hit him that All Might had died, was gone, that he’d never see him again. To cry his eyes out like Melissa did at the airport.

To cry at all.

While he waits, he finds things to do. Like pack up All Might’s old apartment. Sort his belongings into boxes so they can be stored somewhere and then auctioned off for charity. It’s what the former number one would want, Izuku is sure of it.

The man hadn’t owned much, most of it was keepsakes. Some from his years as a pro, but most from his time as a teacher at UA. Handmade trophies and cards from students. Pictures in frames and in albums. Izuku tries not to think too hard about how many of them feature himself. Pointedly avoids looking directly at a framed photo of his mom, All Might, and himself at his high school graduation ceremony.

“I can’t believe it, my little Izuku is so grown up,” Inko Midoriya wailed, holding a squirming eighteen year old Izuku in her arms as he whined in embarrassment. Still, it had felt nice. To have accomplished what no one thought he could.

Well almost no one.

All Might, the first person to ever tell him he could ever be a hero, strode right up to the small Midoriya family with a big smile. “Midoriya my boy! You really have come far, you should be proud.”

“Thanks dad,” Izuku said, the relief of finally being able to escape his mother’s grip preventing him from thinking about what he was saying. The realization hit him a moment later, a moment too late. He looked up at his teacher with a red face, sputtering. “I’m sorry--I didn’t--”

All Might looked stunned for a moment, before pulling the boy into a hug of his own. “I’m proud of you, my boy.”

That was, of course, was all it took for Izuku to start bawling. Which was exactly what he was doing when the picture had been snapped.

Now, a decade later, he stares at the photograph for just a moment, mouth dry, before gently placing it face down on the side table. There wasn’t time for reminiscing. He had to pack these things up.

________________________

As more and more people file into the room and take their seats, Izuku wonders if he should have looked for a bigger venue. He’d had the list of attendees before hand, had invited them himself, but somehow the crowd seems bigger within these solemn walls. Suffocating, even.

The air is thick, causing his brain to go hazy as he greets people as they walk in. Some shaking his hand, giving condolences; others daring to pull him into a hug. Mostly those were the people he knew well. Mirio, Iida, Uraraka, his mom. And Melissa again, as she ushered in a disgruntled Katsuki.

“Katsuki,” Izuku greets, unsure of what to say. There are so many years between them. The extended silence the most amicable their relationship has ever been. Apparently the explosive man feels less so now, keeping his hands firmly in the pockets of his dark colored suit until Izuku takes the hint and retracts his own hand. “It’s good of you to come.”

“You too,” The blonde speaks for the first time (at least to Izuku) since his plane landed. “Surprised you weren’t too busy to show up.”

Sharp red eyes wander around the room, landing on the sunflowers next to the portrait of their deceased teacher. Not exactly traditional, but Izuku had spent hours staring at, frankly, depressing flower arrangements before coming to the conclusion that All Might would have hated all of them.

Katsuki seems to agree because he actually smiles slightly. That is, until Izuku returns it with an awkward smile of his own; causing the other hero to click his tongue and frown irritably, rushing off to find his seat.

“Bakugo!” Melissa calls after him, distressed by his behavior “I don’t know what’s up with his attitude, I swear.”

“That’s just...Katsuki,” Izuku replies. Although that wasn’t entirely fair. He hadn’t been this volatile in years. But there were other people to greet and Izuku really didn’t care to spend any more time analyzing Katsuki’s sour mood.

Melissa looked hesitant, but eventually turned to find her own seat. “I’ll talk to you when it’s over, good luck, Izuku.”

______________

It’s not until the service is over that Izuku registers that he won’t remember any of it. It was as if he’d been asleep. All of it, the crying, the speeches, even his own. If he hadn’t written it down he would have no idea what he’d even said. Did it go well? He had no idea. It had all faded into the background, keeping him in a stupor.

He’s snapped to attention by a hand on his shoulder. Aizawa looks almost the same, somehow, even after all these years. His eyes say that he’s on the verge of giving Izuku a lecture, but he decides better of it as he sizes the young hero up.

“Midoriya,” He says, eventually. “It was a nice service. Go home, get some rest.”

Maybe it was force of habit but Izuku almost immediately says ‘yes Mr. Aizawa’ before he remembers he’s not 16 and a student in Eraser Head’s class anymore. So instead he forces a smile, and says “Thank you, I will. As soon as I take care of everything here.”

Aizawa pauses, opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. He opts instead to nod and give Izuku another pat on the shoulder, before leaving with the now nearly grown Eri in tow.

Things continue in this fashion. People tell him it was a nice service, express their condolences, insist he get some rest, then go home. Until almost everyone is gone. Melissa and Katsuki are waiting, hanging in the back so that Izuku can give them a ride back to their hotel.

Maybe he should have made arrangements for someone else to take them, he would probably be held up for a while. He walks over to them to suggest just that but Melissa cuts him off before he can start.

“We’re fine waiting.” She insists on Katsuki’s behalf. “It was a lovely service, Izuku, Uncle Might would have thought so too.”

“Yeah, real fuckin’ nice” Katsuki spits, having reached his limit of polite conversation. “It was real fuckin’ nice how you didn’t let anyone help, like you’re the only one affected by all this. It was real fuckin’ nice that you disappeared, didn’t say a word to him for years and now show up like the prodigal son after the fact and pretend like nothing happened. It was especially nice when you stood up there and talked about All Might, the hero, the Symbol of Peace. Like he was a fuckin’ stranger. Like you didn’t even know him.”

Izuku flinches with each pointed, and frankly, true, accusation. Backing up almost subconsciously. Scared of Katsuki in a way he hadn’t been since high-school. Or, more accurately, scared of his words, scared of what he may say next.

“Do you even care? Do you give even a single shit that All Might is dead? Because you’re acting like you couldn’t care less. Did he really mean that little to you? You, the favorite, the golden child. Oh we’re so proud of Deku who can’t be fucked to pick up the fucking phone” Katsuki growls, following Izuku as he stumbles back.

“You know, I get it. Why you never talk to me. I was a jerk, the biggest asswipe on the face of the fucking planet. I made your life hell and you hate me and I deserve it. I deserve for you to pretend I don’t exist. But what I can’t fuckin’ figure out is what the hell All Might did to earn the same treatment! Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you treated him like shit when all he ever did was support you!”

“Even now you’re just staring at me with those fuckin’ zombie eyes, say something! Say something you piece of shit! Show any emotion, if you even fuckin’ still have ‘em!”

Katsuki’s impromptu speech is interrupted by Izuku’s fist connecting with his jaw.

The blonde looks stunned, holding his jaw where there’s now a large blossoming bruise. For a split second it seems like that will be the end of it before he lets out a guttural yell and tackles Izuku to the ground.

Izuku retaliates by slamming his knee, sharply, into Katsuki’s gut. Causing the taller man to cough and roll off him, briefly. They get a few more kicks and punches in before they’re separated. Izuku being lifted off of Katsuki by a not at all amused Tetsutetsu while Ashido hooks her arms under Katsuki’s shoulders to keep him from lunging again.

“Get off of me,” he hisses, shoving her away enough to stand up and straighten his suit. He glares at Izuku but makes no moves to lunge at him once more. Tetsutetsu, in turn, sets Izuku back down.

The moment his feet connect with the floor, a hand smacks him across the cheek. Before he can question it, or even comprehend what had just happened; Melissa has turned around to do the same to Katsuki.

“I can’t believe you! Both of you! Acting this way at Uncle Might’s funeral!” She scolds, potentially the angriest Izuku has ever seen the American. “What would he think, if he saw this? What would he say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” to the surprise of everyone, the sullen, bitter, words come from Izuku and not Katsuki. They turn and look at him, expecting him to apologize or give any indication that he was joking.

“It doesn’t matter!” He asserts again, wiping blood from his nose. “He’s gone! It doesn’t matter what he’d say or what he’d think because he’s gone!”

His voice cracks on the last word. Because it’s true, All Might is gone. He’d died without Izuku even getting to say goodbye; let alone all the other things.

I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch, I was scared. Terrified, that you’d hate me.

I admire you, more than anyone else. And I appreciate everything you’ve done, for the world, for me. I wouldn’t be who I am without you, I wouldn’t be alive.

Because of you I had a safe childhood. Because of you one of the biggest threats to man kind is rotting in prison. Because of you people had hope. I never meant to tarnish your legacy, you’re the entire reason I wanted to be a hero in the first place.

I know it doesn’t seem like it, that it looks like i’m tearing down everything you worked for. That’s why I've been avoiding this, because I didn’t want to hurt you. Because I want you to be proud of me. But this is what needs to be done it’s the right thing to do. Just like what you did was right then.

You were there for me when no one else was, when my biological father couldn’t care less. You took me in, you raised me. I shouldn’t have shut you out, I shouldn’t have avoided this. I wasted precious time.

I’m sorry, thank you. I love you.

“It doesn’t matter, whatever I say, or do; it won’t reach him anymore,” Finally, the damn breaks. Starting with a gasping, hiccuped breath, silent tears streaming, working its way up to full on sobs, enough to wrack his entire frame.

“It’s about damn time,” Katsuki mutters, although there’s no more malice in his tone. “I’m taking a cab back to the hotel, let me know when the waterworks are over,”

Melissa looks angry once more, like she wants to say something, but Katsuki makes his exit quickly, and chasing after him would leave the trembling Izuku alone. So instead, she holds him like he did for her, letting his tears soak her dress.

“It’s going to be alright, because I am here.”

#v;;my deku means you can do it (pro hero)#;;character death #;;out of character #i'm suffer

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