katsuki bakugo

Katsuki loved you through and through. Bones and all.

To others you were a puzzle of emotions; a jigsaw with pieces too big and complex to form a picture. But to katsuki, you were fucking perfect. Your puzzle would fall and scatter to bits, but he would be there to pick it back up and rebuild it every. single. time.

Until it became too much for him.

A year of dealing with your constant episodes and unstable emotions got the best of him when he swore it wouldn’t. Katsuki didn't have many mental battles of his own to tackle– so he accepted you, offering a space for all the feelings you couldn't handle. But that wasn’t good enough. Katsuki wasn’t a professional, and the sick fucking need to ‘fix’ you backfired quickly.

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Every episode had stages;

The trigger. Katsuki was working late night patrol that day so he wouldn't make it home till very early morning. Even though it was an often recurrence for him to be gone, your world stopped when he walked out without reassurance. Doubt and worry flooded the vulnerable gates of your mind, reliving the trauma of your old memories that led you down this path.

Interpretation. Your hypersensitive mind filling in the blanks as to why he did what he did. Why did he do that? Katsuki never walked out without a ‘love you’, did he not love you anymore? That has to be it, because if he actually did he would fucking say it. He always reminded you not to jump to conclusions, assume his intentions like everything was black and white, good and bad, because it wasn’t. And yet, in that moment, it felt like it was.

Emotional overload. The amygdala becomes overactivated: the walls of your mind crumbling, flashing red and shutting down. Reality was visible only through the red lights, logic and reasoning did not exist. Your chest tightening with each breath you take, every thread of control built from the previous episode slipping, lost.

Reactive behavior. You didn’t mean the things you said, did you? Everything was on impulse: every word, action, accusation, threat. Your nervous system went into emergency override, reacting as though it’s under attack from your own mind. You were angry, scared and terrified all at once. Yelling in his face, accusing him for making you feel this way, shoving him and threatening to leave before he did. Katsuki stood there and took it, endured it. This was your body’s way to protect itself from your mind, but he was going fucking crazy, hanging on by a thread that shortly snapped when you threatened to hurt yourself because of him.

Then comes shame. So much fucking shame, crashing down like gravity weighed a ton, regret and guilt you couldn’t express to him in time. You didn’t need to though, not anymore. He put you in an empty room, every surface white and beige aside from the fake plant on the corner. Every object was light, fake, dull cornered and low risk, as if you were a rogue toddler with a suicidal urge. Katsuki left you. sent you to a psych ward to protect you from yourself.

He wasn’t allowed to visit for months. Something along the lines of you weren’t stable enough to see him. Truth is, katsuki felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. You trusted him enough with your feelings, with the expectations that he understood or at least accepted your intensely complex emotions. Katsuki failed you, and so he waited until he could see you again.

Now there he was, behind a glass frame that separated you from him. He was allowed direct visit, go to your room and request privacy, but the underlying threat of you taking that plant and smashing it over your own head was a possibility, so he didn’t dare to, even though he wanted nothing more than to hug you again. He fucking missed you so bad, you were so much more than a stupid disorder. But as katsuki looked into your eyes, he knew it was deeper than a mere diagnosis.

He broke the long lived silence that was once comfortable but now suffocating with a simple- rough voiced question.

“You been gettin’ better?”