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The Monster Under His Bed
★ CW/TW: Abuse, Abusive Parents
★ QRT if you want to comment, I love getting feels and feedback.
★ CW/TW: Abuse, Abusive Parents
★ QRT if you want to comment, I love getting feels and feedback.
I will protect you as you rest your head
I am the bravery your parents dread
Through your happiness, I am fed
I am the monster under the bed.
I am the bravery your parents dread
Through your happiness, I am fed
I am the monster under the bed.
To explain Katsuki’s relationship with his parents is like trying to explain death to a toddler.
“They’re going to sleep for a long time, honey. They may not be here, but they still love you. And you can still love them.”
“They’re going to sleep for a long time, honey. They may not be here, but they still love you. And you can still love them.”
And one day, Katsuki's life changed, as if his mother went to sleep, and didn't wake up the same.
When Katsuki was four, he remembered hearing an argument coming from downstairs that could only be described as explosive. Glasses shattered like bombs, echoing through his tiny ear drums. Swear words and vile thoughts spewing from his mother.
The same mother he crawled up next to when he had a nightmare. The same, soft, loving mother who would cradle him when he fell and got hurt.
In his loving mind, he wanted to comfort his mother like she did for him. But, when his tiny, All-Might slippered feet padded their way to the foot of the stairs, he froze. He didn’t recognize the pair of wild eyes that burned through him.
“M-mo-mommy. Are y-you o-k-kay?”
“Go back to bed sweetie, Mommy’s busy.”
“But -”
“Go to your fucking room, Katsuki!”
“Go back to bed sweetie, Mommy’s busy.”
“But -”
“Go to your fucking room, Katsuki!”
Katsuki was frozen in place. He looked over at his father, who had his shirt pressed to his head, blood lightly staining the white fabric. He looked at the broken beer bottles on the floor. He looked back to his mom.
“What happened to Daddy?”
“What happened to Daddy?”
Before he knew it, a white hot pain seared through his cheek, and he was picked up by the back of his pajamas and dragged up the stairs to his room.
“Stay out of grown people’s business, child.”
“Stay out of grown people’s business, child.”
The door to his room slammed, leaving him alone and scared for the first time he could remember. His comforters couldn’t protect him from the loud screaming. But maybe All Might could help his wounded dad.
Katsuki spent the rest of the night calling on All Might to help his parents. Maybe Mommy got hit with a villain’s quirk, and she took it out on the first person she saw.
“All Might can’t help you with this one, but I can” Katsuki heard as he was falling asleep. He assumed he was dreaming. He thought his bear was talking to him, seeing that it was the only thing that could provide some comfort.
As time went on, Katsuki realized that no one could help him. No one could help him conquer nerves that overtook him when school is finished and he had to go home.
No one could truly ease the fear of not being perfect because if he wasn’t he would get hit.
No one could cut the tension that filled their home like a thick, suffocating smog. His father moved into the guest bedroom. His mother drank with every meal. Katsuki never spoke unless spoken to, and even then he’d be reprimanded for answering.
But one night, when Katsuki was 6 years old, he got ready for bed, battered and bruised as the result of accidentally knocking over a cup of water when his mother startled him. He crawled into bed, tears silently rolling down his cheeks.
As he rolled onto the side of his body that didn’t hurt, he heard a soft voice speak to him.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?”
Katsuki knew this wasn’t a dream. He was still fully awake, he was still hurting. He was too old to think his bear was speaking to him. He sat up with a jolt, scared that somehow, when he wasn’t looking, his mother made his way into his room.
But it wasn’t the voice of a woman.
But it wasn’t the voice of a woman.
Katsuki pulled out the bat he brought home from school one day, hidden behind his bed. He didn’t anticipate ever using it, but he had it. . . just in case.
“You wouldn’t hurt anyone, Katsuki. Put the bat down.”
“You wouldn’t hurt anyone, Katsuki. Put the bat down.”
Katsuki kept his guard up, circling his room, checking closets, under his desk, his very full toy chest in the corner. He checked everywhere, but he refused to look under the bed.
“I promise if you peek under here you won’t be scared.”
“I promise if you peek under here you won’t be scared.”
Katsuki was confused. The voice sounded like a boy about his age. He sounded playful, bright, and hopeful, yet wise beyond what little Katsuki could comprehend.
“Why should I trust you?” Katsuki whispered, slowly putting the bat back and getting on his knees, kneeling next to the bed skirt that was long enough to gently brush the carpet.
“That’s a good question. All I can tell you right now is that it’s understandable if you don’t, but it’s my job to protect you!”
“Your JOB? But you sound so young!”
“I am! It’s a long story. I can explain it when we get older.”
“Your JOB? But you sound so young!”
“I am! It’s a long story. I can explain it when we get older.”
Katsuki looked at the skirt of his bed in confusion and curiosity. His small hand reached out to pull up the bed skirt, when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He quickly scrambled into bed and pulled up the covers, pretending to sleep.
“When I’m here, you have no reason to be scared. You’ll be okay, Katsuki. Goodnight Katsuki. Sweet dreams.”
Little Katsuki wanted to muffle the voice coming from under the bed. How could his dreams be sweet when he lived in a home with someone so bitter?
As the nights came and went, the voice from under the bed would coax Katsuki into conversation to distract him from the yelling that would constantly go on outside of his room.
On weekends, he never left his room except to use the bathroom. He would bring snacks and drinks into his room. He had his computer, in which he would do his homework and watch shows quietly as to not disturb his mother when she was home
Katsuki would look forward to the nights as he got older. He would lay in bed, whispering to the voice under the bed, talking about his day at school, the snacks he had, the adventures he wanted to go on.
One night, Katsuki laid in bed silently, deep in thought. The voice softly asked him what was on his mind. The blonde boy was usually the first to offer up the information about his day, so his silence came as a surprise.
“Well. . . what’s your name?” Katsuki asked, getting as close to the edge of the bed as he possibly could without falling over.
“Eijirou!” the voice replied excitedly. Katsuki smiled at the way that name sounded. Ei-ji-rou. It was almost like a chant. A happy chant. He repeated it to himself, a genuine smile forming on his face.
“Did you get to pick it, or did someone give it to you?”
“I chose it!”
“Why?”
“It’s a secret!”
“I chose it!”
“Why?”
“It’s a secret!”
This frustrated Katsuki.
“I tell you all of my secrets, why can’t you tell me yours?”
“I tell you all of my secrets, why can’t you tell me yours?”
As soon as the voice was going to answer, angry footsteps pounded down the hallway and the Katsuki’s door slammed open, hard enough to leave a small handlebar dent in the wall.
Mitsuki put the lights on and pulled the covers off of Katsuki.
Mitsuki put the lights on and pulled the covers off of Katsuki.
“Who the fuck are you whispering to in here you fucking freak?” she screamed, tearing the room apart for something, anything to prove her son’s incompetence.
“N-no-nothing” Katsuki stammered, scrambling to get as far away from her as he can. She pulled his ankle and yanked him off the bed, leaving him on the floor. Mistuki checked under the bed and turned to look at her son.
Katsuki began to panic. Was there something under there the whole time and he hadn’t checked? Mitsuki pulled out a red dragon doll from under the bed and chucked it at his face.
“You’re too fucking old to be talking to your toys, Katsuki. You’re 10 years old. Act like it.”
She left the room without cleaning up the hurricane she created. As Katsuki got up to close the door, he heard her yell from the other room.
“Leave that fucking room door open. If I hear you whispering and not sleeping there’s going to be trouble.”
So Katsuki laid in bed, comforter over his head, red dragon he probably had for so long he had forgotten about it clutched to his face, silently sobbing into it.
Both he and Eijirou stayed silent for the rest of the night.
But, the rest of the month, when Katsuki would silently crawl into bed, leaving the door open to prove that he could be good, Eijirou would whisper sweet affirmations into the room.
“Don’t worry, she can’t hear me. I’m sworn to protect you, and only you. You are one of the strongest kids for going through what you are.”
And when Katsuki would cry, Eijirou wouldn’t shush him, or try to get him to be strong, he affirmed the silent strength that was within him.
“It’s okay for boys to cry, your mother may not agree, but I think letting your emotions show is super manly.”
Katsuki would then sob harder, but silently so, his whole body shaking, his dragon soaking up all of the tears he had inside of him.
He wanted to believe this voice under his bed, he really did, but how could he believe someone who never met him?
