Memories 2

Bakugo's voice was suddenly in her ear.

"You got your fucking information, take us the hell back. Now."

When did he get there? Wasn't it Sir Nighteye next to her? Wait, where did they go?

Star opened her eyes, unaware of why she had closed them. The world around her was moving. As she felt his warm sweaty hands and breathed in his burnt sugar scent, she realized she was being carried by Bakugo.

Had she fainted? Her whole body felt like lead. Like the energy had been sapped out of her. She was so tired.

She opened her eyes with a start when she was being moved again. They're already back at Hawk's building?

"Mmmm put me down, please…" Star groaned as they approached the elevator. She looked up just in time to see Bakugo raise an eyebrow at her, but he complied anyway.

Hawks trailed behind them, writing furiously in a tiny notebook. Glancing up, their eyes met, and she could feel his genuine apology. She shrugged off the jacket, and handed it back to him quietly, attempting a smile.

She had made huge progress thanks to him calling in Sir Nighteye. She could at least acknowledge that, and she was thankful.

...To be honest though, she just didn't want to think about anything else. At least Hawks mentally promised to stop spying on her. Small comforts.

As they reached the top, no one said a word as they walked into the penthouse. Hawks anxiously ruffled his hair, and headed for the roof. Bakugo gave her a once over, looking at her wet clothes, and headed to the kitchen with something warm to drink in mind. Star headed to the shower after grabbing her pajamas, forcing herself to gather the energy to take off her damp clothes.

She turned on the shower and let the hot water pour over her, trying to wash away the cold on her skin, and the cold in her mind.

It burned her skin as she tried to scrub away the feeling of chains at her neck, her wrists, her ankles. She tried to forget what it had felt like to be back there again, the way her skin felt like it didn't fit right. She tried to scrub away the puncture wound on the crook of her arm. Wishing it was as simple as taking a cloth to her own mind.

Coming out of her episode just to feel everyone's reactions in the room was almost as bad as the memory itself. She didn't want their pity clinging to her mind like waves trying to cling to the shoreline. Their worry and shock had slammed into her like a wave in a storm, taking breath away from her that she could have sworn the memories had already stolen.

It was the same way everyone felt when they looked at her after the party. It was the same thing she felt from the nurses as they fixed her bandages after the USJ. It was the same expression the police and heroes had when they had rescued her from the warehouse. Heck, it was the same expression Mashirao sometimes gave her when he didn't think she was looking.

Pity.

Hitoshi had understood during the capture. How could he have not? He was there with her. Mina had understood after the party. Had stayed with her, knowing that she wouldn't want to be alone. But, the Hero Killer? That wasn't something anyone could understand. And after everything that had happened, she felt like if she got anymore pity, she would scream.

She let the hot water hit her back, and she breathed in the steam slowly. She had shown enough weakness to last a lifetime. She refused to show any now.

But as she finished showering and walked into their room, she was caught off guard. A cup of hot coco with mini marshmallows was on her bedside. She didn't even realize he knew exactly what she had been drinking every time he came downstairs and joined her…

For a second, she considered letting him in. She had never felt pity from him. Not from the man that hated lift more than anyone.

She considered admitting just how scared she was. How scared she was to touch an open drink, to be in Hosu, to talk about the incident to Hawks, to look at the mark on her arm and know someone had done something to her she wouldn't remember, to look at her chest and admit that the scar now there matched the scars she's had since she was a kid…

That... she wasn't okay.

But...-

Looking away from the mug, she was silent as she went to bed.

-...She didn't.