[ It matters, more than his inability to speak, than the pain of believing he had died, if only for a few moments while he kept consciousness before the dark swallowed him. It matters because itās his quirk. The source of his power. He knows what it feels like to lose his quirk in a nightmare. This nightmare, Allenās nightmare was playing out the same and just like Shouto had relied on Allen, he needed to know if this time, Allen needed to rely on him. Thatās why he was insistent. Why he needed to verify that he wasnāt reading the situation wrong and it was something simple he didnāt understand. That, too, happened a lot when it came to Allen and his powers. Usually it didnāt bother him, but this was different. Heād died. Thought, heād died and this time he wasnāt going to let it go. To wait for him to tell him at his own pace. This time, he needed that information to keep him safe, and he wasnāt the type to sit idly by. He was taught better. Knew it was dangerous to go into a situation without knowing key facts.
It may have helped if he had a better bedside manner. Maybe eased Allen into the question, but that wasnāt who he was. Direct and to the point was how he operated. Usually, his willingness to accept vague answers kept them from clashing up until now, but this time, Shouto wasnāt willing to bend. This time it didnāt affect just him.
The sound of fabric ripping is an answer in itself. The borderline devastated look on Allenās face, confirms his suspicions. He didnāt know anymore than shim. His quirk was gone, stolen. And they were trapped in a nightmare of his own creation.
Shouto is off the bed in less than a second, wrapping his arms around him, and squeezing him tight to convey the words he canāt force out.
Weāll get it back.
He silently promises, kissing the side of his head fervently and rubs his back in a soothing manner.
Weāll get it back.
Pulls him into his arms to hide him from the world just for a few moments. Kissing his cheek, his ear, all the while holding him close arms tightly wound around him. ]
no subject
It may have helped if he had a better bedside manner. Maybe eased Allen into the question, but that wasnāt who he was. Direct and to the point was how he operated. Usually, his willingness to accept vague answers kept them from clashing up until now, but this time, Shouto wasnāt willing to bend. This time it didnāt affect just him.
The sound of fabric ripping is an answer in itself. The borderline devastated look on Allenās face, confirms his suspicions. He didnāt know anymore than shim. His quirk was gone, stolen. And they were trapped in a nightmare of his own creation.
Shouto is off the bed in less than a second, wrapping his arms around him, and squeezing him tight to convey the words he canāt force out.
Weāll get it back.
He silently promises, kissing the side of his head fervently and rubs his back in a soothing manner.
Weāll get it back.
Pulls him into his arms to hide him from the world just for a few moments. Kissing his cheek, his ear, all the while holding him close arms tightly wound around him. ]