Chapter 4: A Storm in Which We Are All Lost
Chapter Text
They pull up to the hospital and Izuku feels much better than he did before. The only thing that starts his anxiety up again is whenever he thinks of how to broach the subject of time travel with his mother or the officers. Of course, it won't be now, or soon probably, but he doesn't think he can keep it a secret forever. They will eventually have to know. Maybe he'll do it after he tracks down the original Izuku so his mother won't have to worry.
The walk through the hospital is uneventful, the nurses have been alerted of their arrival beforehand and prepared for the check up. It's normal things at first. Breathing, heart rate, eyes, ears, reflexes. His height has increased and his weight even more so. Considering Izuku is being compared against his middle school self, he's not surprised.
The doctor checking him over frowns when he sees Izuku's scarred and deformed right hand. Everyone gasps when they see the large scar running over his shoulder and down his arm. That's when they move onto the more complicated things.
It's x-rays next. Of his whole body. And that brings forth a wave of panic as the doctors see the breaks and new growth of bone all over his body.
They panic, his mom panics, the officers panic. Izuku hears the word 'torture' thrown around quite a bit as they talk about him from the other side of the door. He hears his mom breakdown again and he clenches his fist.
He knows it's from his quirk. He knows, but they don't. And it's not something he can explain because it doesn't seem like his mom knows he has a quirk. And, if in this different set of events he never got All Might's quirk, then he now has it by mistake. Now there could be two One For All quirks being wielded and Izuku is in possession of sensitive information he now shouldn't know. He picks at the paper gown he wears and tries desperately to drown in the bland environment of the hospital room and not his own thoughts.
How could he explain it to them? How could he reassure them that it's fine and he was alright because this was actually the backlash of inheriting the number one hero's quirk? Would it even be possible to tell them of the two years of pain he experienced improving his new quirk without revealing his background as a time traveler? Probably not.
When the doctors come back in, they are wearing fake smiles and treat him considerably different. Like he's fragile now, and going to break if they don't speak softly or handle him gently. Izuku lets them, if only because his mom is looking at him like he's a dead man walking and this stupid physical was supposed to reassure her that he was fine.
They do a CAT scan to check for brain damage, maybe hoping for some physical tell as to why he has amnesia. They don't find anything. His brain is normal. He didn't expect them to, but now he knows that the officers are drawing a different conclusion than he would have liked. Except, he's not really sure he can dispute it without telling the truth. And the truth is something he just decided not to tell.
The visit to the hospital ends with them taking some blood to run tests. Checking for diseases, foreign entities, etc. The doctors promise results in a few weeks, but recommend an observation period. They want him to come back over the course of two weeks so they can monitor him and check for any other developments. His mom agrees immediately to the doctors' wishes and the police officers thank them, leading both Midoriyas back to the cruiser. The sun has started to set. It took almost all day, mainly because of the hours spent waiting around. Izuku feels numb.
The ride back is just as silent as the way there. Which is fine, Izuku has too much to think about. Namely, whether there are some things he can tell his mother, or if he must keep it all secret. It's tempting to tell his mother everything , to have someone understand why he's different now, before it hurts them both when he's not honest with her. Not only that, but revealing his knowledge of the future could help the heroes and police stay ahead of the game for the...threats to come.
And yet, he hesitates. Messing with the future is something that requires caution and forethought. Plus, if he reveals his knowledge, he can be thrown into an asylum or targeted by villains. It's too risky. Too many unknowns. But, above anything, Izuku doesn't know how he got into this... dimension, as he decides to call it. And like he's thought before, at any point he can be transported back as well. Changing too much without seeing it through can have dire consequences that Izuku won't be around to fix. And that brings up the other mystery- what happened to Izuku?
Not him, obviously, but the Izuku of this dimension. He had apparently gone missing and had yet to return. Where had he gone? Why didn't he come home? Or was this some sort of switch scenario where they traded places? But that wouldn't explain why the other Izuku went missing before he arrived. Maybe he ran into some trouble? Maybe his dimensional time travel was a result of something this version of Izuku did, rather than him. That would explain why he doesn't remember much. It's necessary for him to conduct an investigation immediately, although he is a little reluctant to usurp the identity of a pre-existing Izuku if he is still out there somewhere.
It's clear then. Before anything else, Izuku just needs to figure out what happened to his counterpart by retracing his steps from five odd months ago. He can't do that if he starts throwing around time travel and dimensional theories with the pro heroes and police. It'd have to wait. Izuku just didn't have enough information.
They pull into the driveway sooner than he realizes. The officers stay a bit longer, making small talk, establishing avenues of communication, and letting Izuku and his mom know what comes next. They say he'll have to come to the station tomorrow so they can fill out paperwork and officially make him no longer a missing person. They also tell him they'll have to ask him a few more questions while he's there.
"Standard procedure," Officer Tanaka says with a strained smile, "I hope you understand."
And Izuku does, even if his mom looks like she doesn't. Her mouth is set in a grim line, as if she's upset by the very notion. Izuku nods before she can protest though, and the officer slumps in relief, his smile shifting into something more genuine.
And Izuku's not really sure how to feel about that. So, he elects to ignore it. He'll face tomorrow's problems when it's tomorrow.
The officers say their goodbyes after that, politely refusing an offer to stay for dinner. It's quiet once again with just the two of them, uncomfortably so, but not as bad as either time in the police cruiser. His mother goes into the kitchen to make dinner and Izuku sits up to the counter and watches her. She hums a tune under her breath as she works and Izuku can almost pretend everything is normal. Except he catches her glancing at him too often to be natural, trying to assure herself that he's there. He fights the urge to go to his room and stays in the kitchen so he's in her line of sight. It's the least he can do.
Dinner is excellent as always, and Izuku even manages to make conversation by asking his mom about her work. They blatantly avoid talking about his disappearance, or the hospital visit, or the stark physical changes he now sports. Everytime the topic veers a little too close, the conversation stills until one of them makes an awkward effort to bring it back to something safe. It's avoidance at its finest, but Izuku's too tired to care. And, seeing the heavy dark bags under his mother's puffy red eyes, he thinks she could use a little time before they even begin to broach the issue as well.
Izuku does the dishes, even after his mom insists that she can do it. He tells her she ought to go to bed and stays firm when she protests. He knows she's scared, scared that when she falls asleep she'll wake up to a house without him in it. He doesn't know how to reassure her, but she really does need to sleep and Izuku will be damned if he is the reason she won't.
He lets her know he's tired too and finally gets her to agree to sleep if he's in there with her. It would be funny, in an ironic way, the parent asking the child for comfort from the nightmares, if it wasn't depressingly heartbreaking. Izuku agrees instantly, and that's that.
He wakes up the next morning to his mom running a hand gently through his hair. His eyes crack open and take in his mother with a sad smile on her face.
"You're here," She whispers as way of explanation, tears in her eyes, "You're here."
He's reminded suddenly of playing hero with his mother all those years ago. Himself in an All Might jumpsuit, her hiding under a sheet and calling for help.
Izuku's own eyes grow wet and he takes her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "I'm here."