Notes: Okay gang, be ready. Angst and guilt about feelings, Katsuki gets injured at work, Reader and Eijirou take care of him, Katsuki has a nightmare that feels PTSD-esque so be careful, confessions? Maybe? depends on whether you think the reader is awake. Everyone is having a hard time in some way or another, there is tension, but it will be resolved next chapter, so all good.
Beta'd by: @teaspacebar
Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
Chapter 5:
You sat stock still as you watched the news, a recap playing of the fight you just watched live. The anchors commented on how “lucky” it was that all of the heroes were okay, that the villains had all been recaptured after the prison break that saw over a dozen villains set free. Dynamight had been the first hero on the scene, and from what you could tell in the footage, he’d held the situation down well, especially given how outnumbered he was, but he’d been hit hard a few times before backup got there. Your texts to the man had gone unanswered thus far. And you knew he was okay, your phone would have been blowing up by now if he wasn’t; you were both his and Eijirou’s emergency contact, after all. Your phone chimed and you scrambled to pick it up.
Loverboy: [Have you heard from him yet?]
You: [Not yet, but I haven’t heard from anyone else either. I’m taking it as a good sign. No news is good news, right?]
Loverboy: [He’s probably just fine, baby, I’ve seen him walk away from fights much worse than that.]
[He’s probably buried in paperwork]
You: [I know, I just get worried]
Loverboy: [That’s good! It’s always better to have someone waiting at home that cares]
You: [You did not just tell me it’s good to be so worried I’m nauseous]
[You both stress me out]
Loverboy: [Oof, not very manly of me. Sorry, babe]
You: [You’re okay, Eiji. You aren’t the one ignoring my texts right now]
Loverboy: [Aww no! I’m sure he’s just tied up]
[But if it makes you feel any better to know, he’s ignoring me too]
You scoffed as you looked down at your phone, frustration and anxiety manifesting as the tension of your shoulders, the clenching of your jaw, the bouncing of your leg. And you couldn’t remember exactly how long it had been since Katsuki had been in so rough a situation, but you were sure your reaction wasn’t this bad. Somehow, he’d wormed his way deeper into your chest since then, and on some level, despite your insistence on not acknowledging it, you knew you feared for him the same way you feared for Eijirou. You couldn’t analyze that right now though, not when the sound of keys sliding into the lock on the front door drove you to burst into the hall.
“Katsuki,” you called, sounding almost like a command as he closed the door behind him, and his eyes snapped up to meet yours. For a moment, you felt nothing but relief, to see him home, to see him standing without support or obvious injury, and you were quick to close the distance and hug him. You expected a comment about you being overbearing or clingy, like he’d done in the past, the very few other times you’d hugged him like this, but he stayed quiet. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you too, and you felt the breath he heaved as he held you; it felt like he was just as relieved as you were. “Are you hurt?” you questioned after a few moments, still not pulling away.
“Mhmm,” he hummed in affirmation.
“This shoulder?” you asked, tapping the shoulder your head wasn’t leaned against.
He tensed, clearly confused when he answered, “No?”
“Good.” You pulled one arm away enough to be able shove him slightly, using that shoulder as your contact point and stared up at him, frustration seeping back into you. “You couldn’t answer your fucking phone?” He huffed a sigh, or as much as you assumed he could given the way he flinched when he breathed in too far, and your irritation flared at his nonchalance. “I had to rely on the news and the fact that I hadn’t gotten a call from the hospital to know you weren’t-” you froze mid-sentence when he silently pulled out his cell phone, and suddenly you understood the why. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he confirmed as though he could hear your thoughts. The phone screen was shattered, and as you stared at it, the screen lit up again, a text from Eijirou, mostly unreadable through the cracks, pinging through. “Go ahead, see if it’s useable,” he offered, holding the phone out as though to hand it to you.
“No, I… believe you.”
“Uh huh.” He dropped the phone back in his pocket, and before you could have the chance to pull away, he looped his arm around you again, pulling you back into his chest.
You huffed a surprised laugh. “Is this something I should get used to?” you questioned, gently rubbing your hand over his upper back to comfort him.
“I sleep in your bed half the time, but suddenly hugging is an issue?” he snarked in return without moving from his place or allowing you to move from yours.
Your palms broke contact with defeated exasperation. “Not what I said, Kats. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t body swapped with a koala bear.”
“Tch. Whatever.” He squeezed a little harder for a moment before he let you go, but he didn’t make any move to leave your personal space. You heard his phone buzz again and watched the irritation flicker across his face. “Would you text shitty hair and tell him I’m alive? Christ, he’s worse than you.”
You chuckled slightly as you reached for your own phone.
You: [He’s home and mostly fine]
[Phone’s busted though, and he seems to be irritated we’ve been blowing it up]
You turned your phone to face Katsuki as proof and he nodded once before his eyes squinted and lips downturned in a scowl. “You both thought I was ignoring you?”
“You were ignoring us.” You stated, matter-of-fact and unwilling to budge.
“My phone was broken!” he defended, volume raising only slightly.
You shrugged, nonchalant as you suggested, “Could have called from the office.”
“Why would I have your number memorized?”
“You don’t need to. I’m your emergency contact; they have my number on file.”
And that shut him up, jaw snapping shut as whatever his next retort was going to be died in his throat. Instead, as he looked away, “I’ll remember that.”
You nodded, smile growing on your face at his concession, and because you couldn’t help but poke at him, “Mmhmm, I win.”
He snarled, but the second he made eye-contact again and found you smiling, he deflated. “You can’t tease me; I got injured on the job.”
“So, you’d rather I baby you?”
His eyes went wide for half a second and he shoved by you, headed to his room. “I’m going to get changed.”
You could only roll your eyes, more amused than anything else at his antics. When your phone buzzed in your pocket, you were quick to pick it up.
Loverboy: [Why didn’t he just call from the office?]
You: [That’s what I said!!]
[I hope the rest of your shift goes well now that we know he’s okay]
[I love you]
Loverboy: [I love you!]
[I’m going to see if I can get off work early, do you want me to pick something up for dinner on my way home?]
You: [No baby, I’ll cook! Any requests?]
Loverboy: [Are you on the menu?]
You: [I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that 15 minutes after we were worried for our best friend’s life]
Loverboy: [I don’t think he’d be bothered. Should we ask him?]
You: [Absolutely NOT]
[Keep it in your pants, Loverboy, I’ll make it up to you later]
Loverboy: [Looking forward to it with binoculars]
[Love you]
You: [I love you too, weirdo]
“What are you shaking your head at?” Katsuki questioned, walking into the living room where you’d wandered whilst on your phone.
“Eijirou and his terrible timing,” you answered, setting your phone down on the coffee table. “But for the record, he also thinks you could have called from the office.”
The blonde scowled. “I don’t appreciate being ganged up on.”
You made no effort to stop the giggle that left your chest at the irritation in his tone. “Right, I forgot, I’m supposed to be babying you.” When you reached for him, you only managed to plant your palms on his cheeks for a moment because the instant you started to squeeze and made a mocking grumpy face at him, he swatted your hands away.
“You’re embarrassing,” he claimed, though you saw his ears turning pink as he turned away from you to sit on the couch.
You hummed through an overly dramatic fake pout at him. “Ouch. Scalding criticism as always, Katsuki. I fear I may perish.” The last bit of your performative attitude was accompanied by a heavy sigh and the back of your hand on your forehead as you fell backward onto the couch with your eyes briefly closed.
“You’re full of it today,” he commented, off-handed, as though it didn’t matter.
But it did, because, “And you’re really not,” You turned to face him so you could watch his body language when you carefully asked, “Are you okay?”
He squinted, turning slightly to look at you, incredulous, as though the answer was obvious. “Aside from the stitches, you mean?”
His regular snark was back, but it didn’t deter you from pushing a little. “I don’t mean physically, Kats.” And you leaned to shoulder him lightly from where you sat beside him, trying to be as gentle as possible when you observed aloud, “You seem… frazzled.”
He looked down at you, eyebrow quirked. “Frazzled,” he repeated as though to ask what that possibly could have meant.
“I don’t know, you just look like you’re far away, like somethings bothering you, or shook you up. Also, and please take this as lightly as possible because its actually really nice,” you added in the middle, almost as an aside before continuing, “you’ve been kind of clingy since you got home, and-”
“I’m being clingy,” he deadpanned. “Right.”
When Katsuki moved away from you on the couch like he was going to stand up, you were quick to stop him with arms around his waist, as carefully as you could. “Wait!” He froze, and you glared. “Would you sit back down and talk to me? Please?” He grumbled something unintelligible in response, but relaxed back into the cushions, so you gave him a moment. Once you were sure he wasn’t going anywhere, and you were able to look him in the eye, you spoke again. “What I mean is that you seem more affectionate than normal. You got home, and I had been worried about you, so I hugged you, and you didn’t push me away,” you explained, hoping by the end of your rant it would make more sense. “You actually hugged me back, and I really appreciate that, but it’s a little out of character for you. And just now when I sat down on the couch, you scooted closer so our legs would touch after I sat down, which again, I have no problem with, but that’s not something you typically do.” You waited for a moment, watching him process. “And if you need more physical affection than normal right now, I’m happy to give that to you, but between that and the glazed-over look in your eye, I figured I have pretty good reason to ask if something is wrong.”
Katsuki faced away from you, eyes wandering like he was reviewing options for something you couldn’t see. Gradually, the movement small and slow, he began to shake his head. He swallowed harshly before he was able to speak. “It doesn’t matter.”
The way he sounded, resigned, and worn down, and haunted, hurt your chest. “Katsuki, it does matter. I-”
“It doesn’t,” he insisted, firmer this time, and clearly trying to shut down any argument about it. “I’m fine, I just… don’t want to be alone right now.” It was mumbled so lowly that you barely heard it, but the fact that he’d admitted that at all meant he needed it more than you could possibly understand.
“Okay,” you relented with a slight nod. You moved to close the distance between the two of you, pressing the side of your leg against his again and dropping your head to his shoulder. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thanks.” It was barely above a whisper as you felt his head drop to lean against yours.
The two of you stayed that way, in the quiet, for several minutes before eventually he suggested the pair of you watch a movie. He made it through twenty minutes before his exhaustion took over and he fell asleep on your shoulder. When Eijirou finally made it home, Katsuki’s sleeping form was slumped almost entirely into your side. At the accidental slam of the door however, he startled awake.
Katsuki inhaled sharply before, “What?” And though his eyes were barely open, and his face was still scrunched, he sat up.
“Hey,” you started, but were cut off when Eijirou shouted.
“Sorry! Didn’t mean to slam it.”
“All good, sweetheart!” you called back as you dropped a hand to Katsuki’s side. “Good morning.”
“Yeah,” he responded, though he looked like he was awake entirely unwillingly. “Did I- How long was I out?”
You shrugged, “Like, forty minutes, I think? Movie’s not done yet.” You gestured to the television as if to show him, but your eyes were stuck on him. You searched his face with your gaze as you asked, “Do you feel any better?” There was an urge in your chest and fingertips to reach for him, to touch his face, press your palm to his cheek and run your thumb over his cheekbone. But before he could answer, before your hands could betray you, Eijirou appeared in the doorway.
“Hey, guys, how’s it going?”
You pulled away from the man sitting next to you, not having realized how far into his space you’d leaned, and a panic that you hoped wasn’t visible from the outside took over your mind. What the fuck was happening? You scolded yourself internally, pulling your eyes from the ground to look up at your approaching boyfriend. “Hey,” you greeted with a smile, doing your best to rid yourself of the anxiety laced in your chest.
“Hey.” Eijirou gave a beaming smile as he reached for the hand you had propped on the back of the couch and planted a kiss on your knuckles. “How are we?” he questioned, but you knew who it was for as he turned toward the other man sat on the couch.
Katsuki shrugged. “Couple stitches, an appointment with a healer in a couple days. I’m alright.”
Eijirou nodded along as he spoke, accepting the answers he was given, though you could see on his face he knew there was more. “You really scared us, man,” he admitted, dropping a hand to squeeze lightly at the blonde’s shoulder.
And despite the fact that a blush quickly bloomed over the man’s neck and ears, you’d never seen Katsuki roll his eyes so hard. “And I will pick up a new phone tomorrow. Happy?”
A chuckle rumbled from within Eijirou’s chest, then, “Not what I meant bro, but sure. Glad you’re okay.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going to go look at my stitches, I’ll be back in a few.”
You and Eijirou watched as the man rose from the couch and went to the bathroom. You heard him pull out the first aid kid before either of you broke the silence.
“So, how is he really?” Eijirou questioned, turning to you with an almost jarring level of seriousness, particularly given how unbothered he’d just appeared to be.
Your lips pursed for a moment before, “Physically, he seems mostly fine; banged up, a little sore, maybe, but okay.”
“That’s good,” he affirmed.
“Yeah, but,” you sighed as you shook your head slightly, skepticism coloring your tone as you continued to explain, “Something’s wrong, he’s been… off. One of the villains today was the same one he fought two months ago when he stopped sleeping. I’m worried about him.”
He nodded, sobered by the information presented to him. “We can keep an eye on him, make sure he’s okay. Everything is going to be fine.”
You wanted to believe him, but the tightness in your chest didn’t let up.
-
You became aware of the smell before anything else, eyes scrunching closed tighter as the aroma of warm caramel began to flood your senses in the darkened room. Next was the mumbling, soft and unintelligible at first, but it quickly grew to discernable phrases.
“No… not them… you can’t take them from me,” came out of Katsuki’s mouth in broken pieces as he began to squirm. And as the volume increased, so did his movement, to the point the once peacefully resting man in your arms began thrashing and shouted, “NO!”
All at once, you were moved against your will, suddenly flipped from your side to your back, and Katsuki, with open but glazed over eyes, was leering down at you.
“Lay a finger on either one of them and I’ll fucking kill you!”
You barely caught it in time, hand clamping tight around the arm he was using to pin you down beneath him. “Katsuki!”
“Eh?” he questioned as though confused why his quirk hadn’t gone off. But then he blinked, and his chest heaved like he’d been startled awake. Your name escaped him, a quiet, unsure question as he looked down at you. You watched as he took in the way you were each positioned; the hand still planted firmly in your shoulder to hold you down and your fingers wrapped around his wrist there, the way his other arm was cocked back as though ready to swing, muscles tensed like he did when putting all of his power into an attack. It was only by the reflection in them of the light outside that you could tell his eyes were wide, and filling with water. His voice was broken and barely audible when he questioned, “What did I do?” his form unmoving from his statuesque stillness.
You were quick to respond in a desperate attempt to interrupt whatever spiral you were witnessing the beginning of. “Nothing, you didn’t do anything, everything is-”
“I almost hurt you. I almost-” There was horror laced through his voice, and he tried to pull away, letting his sentence die out on its own.
You refused to let go of his wrist, refused to give him room to back up. “You didn’t.”
He looked to your side, and you followed his gaze, discovering for the first time that Eijirou too, had woken up. “I could have killed you both.”
“No, you couldn’t have,” you insisted as you felt droplets hit your collarbone. “I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen, right? I told you I’d stop your quirk, and I did. It’s okay, we’re-”
“Its not okay!” The words broke in his throat as he began to hyperventilate. “I almost killed you! Almost- And before… I couldn’t save you… I couldn’t save either of you. It’s too late I’m always too late I can’t keep you safe I can’t-”
“That’s enough,” you said it more to yourself than anyone else, but you know both of the men laying with you heard it. You gave Katsuki no warning as you adjusted your hold on him, letting go of his wrist to wrap a hand around the back of his neck, the other planting firmly on his spine as you tugged him toward you. It must have been his crashing adrenaline that allowed you to move the man, typically much stronger than you, and he thudded into your chest as he collapsed. It knocked the wind out of you a little, but that didn’t matter in the slightest as you heard him start to sob. “Shhh, baby it’s okay,” you spoke softly, hand moving from the back of his neck to instead run your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. “I’m here.”
You looked to Eijirou and found him frozen in shock, searching your eyes like he might find an anchor in them. You gave him a nod, an attempt at encouragement, to assure him everything was okay, that everyone was okay, and that you had everything under control. He only stared another moment at you before he nodded and scooched in closer, lightly dropping a hand to Katsuki’s back.
You pressed a kiss to the top of the blonde’s head as you continued the careful motion of your fingers on his scalp. “You’re safe, Eijirou and I are safe, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re okay.”
“We aren’t going anywhere,” Eijirou jumped in, also careful to make his tone as gentle as he could. “We’ve got you.”
Another hard sob ripped from Katsuki’s throat alongside a broken apology, but a moment later he nodded, face still pressed into your chest. He was still crying, but he was slowly calming down. Eijirou’s forehead pressed gently to your temple as you stared blankly up at the ceiling.
“You did great, sweetheart.”
You hummed a brief acknowledgement and moved your free hand to rest atop his on Katsuki’s back, unable to respond with words for fear of breaking the whispered rhythm you’d gotten into as you continued to breathe reassurances into Katsuki’s hair.
It was as Katsuki’s crying transitioned to tired sniffles on your chest, and as Eijirou’s breathing became heavy and level at your shoulder, that you finally felt your pulse begin to come down from the moon. You managed to heave a shaky breath, despite the weight of the man on your torso, and felt the tears you’d held back finally slide free through the corners of your eyes. Everything was okay. You knew that. But still you clutched the two men in your grasp like they were your lifeline as you drifted back to sleep.
-
The plan you and Eijirou had put together that morning entrusted you to get out of the bed only long enough to use the restroom and call out of your job for the day, citing ‘family emergency’ as your reasoning. You’d come back to the bedroom to find your boyfriend smiling contentedly down at the soundly sleeping man in his arms, the peace such an enormous contrast to the events of the previous night.
He looked up when he heard your uneven steps in the doorway. “All good?” he questioned, head cocked lightly to the side.
You nodded in return, voice soft as you answered, “All good, I’m out for the day. I also double checked with his agency, and he’s out on medical leave the rest of the week. No more patrol either, at least until he’s cleared by a doctor.”
A toothy grin crossed Eijirou’s features as he nodded. “Okay, great. Wanna come switch with me so I can call out and make breakfast?”
When Eijirou tried to pull away, however, Katsuki mumbled grumpily between snores and wrapped an arm over the redhead’s waist. You paused on your path to the bed, eyebrows raising as you looked to your boyfriend, whose cheeks were pink.
“Eiji?” you questioned, an amused curiosity in your voice as you cocked an eyebrow at him. “You good?”
He cleared his throat lightly. “Yeah, no, I’m good, just uh… Do you want to get in here so I can get up without waking him? Maybe use your quirk?”
You chuckled, but crawled into the bed anyway, getting situated on Katsuki’s other side. “You’re pretty flustered for a guy that preaches about the importance of ‘cuddling the homies,’” you commented, offhand, not meaning anything by it.
And yet, a startled look appeared in his eyes, immediately replaced by something that looked like guilt as the blush on his face and ears deepened. “Yeah… right, of course.” He was careful as he pushed Katsuki away from him, taking it slow and gentle as he detached the blonde’s grip.
Once Katsuki was laid out on his back, you adjusted to be on your side facing him, so you’d be able to watch for any other hiccups. But as soon as he felt the weight of your head on his arm, he rolled, and the man’s embrace closed around you like a fly trap. He kept snoring the entire time.
“You got him?” You heard your boyfriend ask from the foot of the bed.
“I think it’s more like he has me, actually,” you admitted, realizing that you couldn’t see much outside of Katsuki’s chest and shoulders with he way he was holding you. “I love you,” you called as you gave a wave with the arm not trapped beneath you.
“I love you too, baby.” It came out almost strained when Eijirou responded. “So, so much. You know that, right?”
“Of course, honey, always.” You were unsure whether your concern was audible in your voice, but if it was, it went ignored.
“I’m going to go make breakfast.”
As you laid in Katsuki’s arms, with his heartbeat pressed to your ear steadfast and sure, you began to drift back toward sleep. Eventually though, Eijirou called from across the house that breakfast was ready, and you pulled in a deep breath to help wake yourself up.
“Kats,” you called softly, still encased in his arms. “It’s time to get up.”
You looked up in time to se his face scrunch slightly, and his grip tightened around you.
“Katsuki,” you tried again.
He stirred, releasing a gravelly, “No.”
You huffed a laugh at his antics and placed your hands carefully to push on his chest. “Come on, your stitches need to be checked, and Eijirou made breakfast.”
That seemed to make his pause, body freezing for a moment before he pulled back, only enough to look down at you quizzically. “Why are you still here? I thought you both had work today.”
You shrugged as much as you were able in his grip, having already decided with Eijirou to play this nonchalantly to hopefully minimize his emotional recoil. “We both needed a break, and since you were going to be off anyway, we figured the three of us could spend the day together; try to decompress and relax.”
His expression changed to one of suspicion, but rather than questioning you further, he relented and released you.
As you moved to stand up you asked, “Did you want to check stitches now or after you eat something?”
“Breakfast first,” he decided aloud, voice still rough from disuse.
“Great, come on.” You stood in the open space between the bed and the door, arm outstretched as you looked at him expectantly.
Katsuki stopped for a moment where he sat on the edge of the bed. “What are you waiting for?” he questioned.
You scoffed, though there was no irritation in the noise. “I’m waiting for you, Kats. I told you last night I’m right here, not going anywhere.”
He rolled his eyes and mumbled something about you being “weird and clingy,” but he couldn’t hide the way his ears turned red, or the way his hand sought out yours the moment he stood as though it had a mind of its own.
-
Things had been different in the house since then. The nightmares weren’t ever talked about, but they stopped after a few days, and Katsuki’s sleep schedule had returned to normal even though his own bed hadn’t been slept in for weeks. It was simply routine now, comfortable and easy for the three of you to cozy up together at night despite Katsuki’s initial embarrassment around just how much he liked the cuddling.
He'd let you and Eijirou be more affectionate with him in the daylight lately, too. Hugs weren’t dodged anymore, and casual physical contact wasn’t pushed away. Katsuki was softer with the two of you in a way that made your heart pull in your chest, only for that feeling to be marred with guilt and a refusal to acknowledge its meaning. But the version you that was just barely on the edges of wakefulness, having just heard the front door close, felt no such guilt.
You were still in the same position you’d fallen asleep in, with your back pressed firmly to your boyfriend’s chest, his arms wrapped around you like a safety belt. You absentmindedly ran your fingertips along his skin as you sleepily waited for the other man to appear, and after a few minutes of muffled noise from around the rest of the house, your bedroom door slowly opened.
You watched through barely open eyes as the blonde, clearly doing his best not to make too much noise, entered the room. An appreciative hum left your chest and with a voice still dampened by sleep, you called, “Kats…” reaching with grabbing hands toward his form.
He huffed a soft laugh as he came closer, crawling into the bed gingerly like he was sore, and allowed himself to be wrapped in your arms as one of his own draped over you so his palm rested on Eijirou’s side. He tucked his head beneath your chin, nose touching lightly to the column of your neck when he voiced, “You can’t say my name like that.”
And while it was quiet, the words, the emotions behind them, were so clear. You were dreaming, you vaguely realized, as your fingertips began to card through his hair. “Why not?” you questioned, hardly intelligible enough to be considered real words.
He nuzzled into you further, the rest of his body following suit as you felt him squeeze closer, squishing you a bit between two bodies much bigger than yours. “Because I want something I can’t have.” His forearm tensed at your hip like he was holding something on the other side of you, and then you felt the soft press of lips at the base of your throat. A beat of silence passed directly following the slow involuntary inhale you gave in response, and then, “I love you.”
A sleepy hum of approval left your chest as you pulled him closer, snuggling into his hair and hitching one leg over his. And despite wanting to stay in the dream, for even just a little while longer in the arms of two men that loved you, despite wanting to say it back, you felt the weight of sleep calling to you again, and the dream ended. Part of you hoped to remember it.
I’m a reporter so I won’t bury the lead. Your country needs you. The country that has given you so much is calling you, the Class of 2025. The country needs you, and it needs you today.
As a reporter, I have learned to respect opinions. Reasonable people can differ about the life of our country. America works well when we listen to those with whom we disagree and when we listen and when we have common ground and we compromise. And one thing we can all agree on – one thing at least – is that America is at her best when everyone is included.
To move forward, we debate, not demonize. We discuss, not destroy. But in this moment – this moment, this morning – our sacred rule of law is under attack. Journalism is under attack. Universities are under attack. Freedom of speech is under attack. An insidious fear is reaching through our schools, our businesses, our homes and into our private thoughts. The fear to speak. In America? If our government is – in Lincoln’s words – “of the people, by the people and for the people” – then why are we afraid to speak?
The Wake Forest Class of 1861 did not choose their time of calling. The Class of 1941 did not choose. The Class of 1968 did not choose. History chose them. And now history is calling you, the Class of 2025. You may not feel prepared, but you are. You are not descended of fearful people. You brought your values to school with you and now Wake Forest has trained you to seek the truth, to find the meaning of life.
Let me tell you briefly about three people I have recently met who discovered the meaning of their lives in moments of crisis not unlike what we have today.
Volodymyr Zelenskyy, president of Ukraine, spent his entire career as an entertainer on television. His first elected office was president of Ukraine. And three years ago, the Russian army came at him from three directions. He had a decision to make. And so he reached for the most lethal weapon in the Ukranian arsenal: his cell phone.
He walked out of front of the presidential offices in Kyiv and made a video selfie. He told his people, “I’m still here and your army is still here, and we are going to fight.” He galvanized 44 million people instantly. Today, three years later, he is all that stands between a murderous dictator in Russia and the rest of free Europe. I asked him, “Where did that come from?” And he said, “Well, you look in the mirror and you ask, ‘Who are you’”?
Nadia Murad, a woman whom we at 60 Minutes found in a refugee camp in Iraq. Her family was murdered by ISIS and she had been sold for money into slavery. We convinced her to tell her story on 60 Minutes, which she did and she found her voice. Then she began to write, and then she began to speak about the crimes that women suffer in war. And a few years later, this young woman who we had found in a refugee camp won the Nobel Peace Prize.
Who are you?
Finally, Dr. Samer Attar, an orthopedic surgeon in Chicago and a professor of surgery at Northwestern who volunteers to do surgery in war zones. In Gaza. In Ukraine. In To save lives of innocent people by using whatever meager supplies he has at hand. I asked him, “Where does this come from?” He told me, “It’s not much, but it beats burying your head in fear and ignorance.”
Who are you?
What is the meaning of life?
Today, great universities are threatened with ruin. So what did President Wente and Provost Gillespie do? They spoke out. They joined other institutions signing the call for constructive engagement, a declaration of the relationship between government and higher education. It reads in part, “Institutions of higher education share a commitment to serve as centers of open inquiry where, in their pursuit of truth, faculty, students, and staff are free to exchange ideas and opinions across a full range of viewpoints without fear of retribution, censorship, or deportation.”
Who are you? What does this make Wake Forest in this moment? Well, I think we know.
Did you hear that phrase in the Declaration? “Pursuit of truth?” Why attack universities? Why attack journalism? Because ignorance works for power.
First, make the truth seekers live in fear. Sue the journalists. For nothing. Then send masked agents to abduct a college student, a writer of her college paper who wrote an editorial supporting Palestinian rights, and send her to a prison in Louisiana and charge her with nothing. Then, move to destroy law firms that stand up for the rights of others.
With that done, power can rewrite history. With grotesque, false narratives, they can make heroes criminals and criminals heroes. And they can change the definition of the words we use to describe reality.
“Diversity” is now described as “illegal.” “Equity” is to be shunned. “Inclusion” is a dirty word. This is an old playbook, my friends. There is nothing new in this. George Orwell – who we met on the street in London – in 1949, he warned of what he called “new speak.” He understood that ignorance works for power.
But it is ignorance that you have repudiated every single day here at Wake Forest University. Who are you? I think we know.
Can just speaking the truth actually work? Well, consider this day. This day. May 19. May 19, 1963. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail” was published for the first time. In that letter, Dr. King says, “The first thing that has to be done in the pursuit of justice is collecting the facts.”
Power was telling him in a jail cell, “Do not speak the truth because power will crush you.”
But consider that just months before that letter was published, Wake Forest University became the first major private institution of higher education in the South to integrate. In 1962.
The year after Dr. King’s letter –1964 – the Civil Rights Act is passed. And the year after that – 1965 – the Voting Rights Act is passed. Now today both of those are under attack. But can the truth win? My friends, nothing else does. It may be a long road, but the truth is coming.
Did you hear the other phrase in the declaration that was signed by President Wente and Provost Gillespie? “Without fear.”
That does not mean there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s an affirmation that you know who you are. That you know what you stand for. And that you know in the end – the long end – the Constitution will defend you even in the face of fearsome times.
In the words of one of your former Wake Forest professors:
“You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies.
You may tread me into the very dirt, but like dust, I’ll rise.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear, I rise.
Into a daybreak that’s wonderfully clear, I rise.
Bringing the gifts my ancestors gave me, I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise.
I rise.
I rise.”
The poet Maya Angelou taught at Wake Forest. She saw the fear that power sought to impose, yet in her famous phrase, she still knew why the caged bird sings.
This university, old and wise, has seen worse. It has overcome existential threats before to our country. You are not alone. A legion has gone before you. And now it is the Class of 2025 that is called in another extreme time.
Will you permit me another word of advice? I think this is how I created at least one astronomer.
Do not settle. You only get one pass at this. This world is going to tell you no a thousand times, but listen to the song in your heart. If they can’t hear it, that’s on them and not on you.
In the 1980s, I was rejected by CBS News over and over and over again over the years. They told me at one point, “Please stop applying.” They really did. And at the time, I thought “What’s wrong with these people?” They couldn’t hear the song in my heart. Maybe they were smarter. Every time I was rejected, I got better. Maybe that was the plan. But I finally made them hear the music in my heart.
You only lose if you quit. Do not settle.
What is the meaning of life? Who are you? You are the educated. You are the compassionate. You are the fierce defenders of democracy, the seekers of truth, the vanguards against ignorance. You are millions strong across our land.
You might be sorry that you were picked by history for this role. But maybe that was the plan. Hard times are going to make you better and stronger. In a few minutes, when that diploma hits your hand, it’s not a piece of paper you’re holding. We’re handing you a baton. Run with it.
Why am I here today? I’m 50 years farther down the trail than you are, and I have doubled back this morning to tell you the one thing I have learned from Volodymyr Zelenskyy and Nadia Murad and Samer Attar and a thousand others: In a moment like this, when our country is in peril, don’t ask the meaning of life. Life is asking, “What’s the meaning of you?”
With great admiration for your achievements and with confidence that you will rise to this occasion, I thank you very humbly for the honor of being with you.
'And all from suppressing oneself . . . I quite see that one should be very careful always to—to express one's personality. The dangers of the other are frightful.'
Agatha Christie, from The Witness for the Prosecution and Other Stories
I ... Wasn't ready to see my life in that movie. No, not the trans allegory. I get it for others.
To me, it is the suppression allegory. That I had to suppress myself just to make sure I don't scare people away, to be acceptable in society, to suppress everything that makes me so much that I no longer know myself. I couldn't even feel free to be myself around my friends. My best friend, who knew me enough that I don't need to hide so much, died a couple of years ago, and so I have no one to feel free with.
Man, tears are flowing.
The only escape I can feel free is through my games and shows. I can feel that so hard. I wish I could share my interests, but something inside said they are insignificant. Only others' interests are important and I must show interest or I will be left behind. I feel like a bad friend no matter how often my friends say the opposite. Because I only know that they only say that because I show interest in them, not they show interest in me.
I'm 45. I'm single. I'm working at a job that I've been growing weary of. My cat is my constant companion. I want to write and go visit events and be energized from conversing. I want to do THINGS. But I've been suppressed for so long that I forgot how to let go. Forgot how to stop letting the voices telling me when to talk and when not to. Forgot how to listen to Myself and not the other Mes.
I don't know if it is possible to un-suppress myself. I don't know how long it might take. I don't know if I will be alone in this journey ...
