#human monster garou

Ever since he had come to the realization that the world was and would never be fair, Garou decided that he would never rely on anyone else.

Being alone was much more preferable than having someone else for company that would eventually hurt him. The kids who bullied him when he was a child, the teacher who blamed himself for others’ faults, that damned kid’s show he used to watch who kept on crushing a monster’s dream to win just this fucking once-

No, Garou told himself. No more. Never again.

Alone was what he had, and it was what protected him.

And it wasn’t really a lonely notion to have no one else but yourself. Only weak people sought the company of others, and Garou certainly was not weak.

He didn’t need anyone else.

Never.

But he couldn’t convince himself to fully believe what he once had thought to be a good thing, not when he found himself standing on your balcony in the middle of the night.

He would never forget the day he walked out of those glass sliding doors and left you crying inside your home. He had never stopped kicking himself for taking things too fast, for being too damn greedy and acting on impulse.

You told him of your past trauma and there he went, doing exactly the same thing sans the violence.

Why didn’t Garou listen to that tiny voice in his mind that kept on pleading and reasoning out for him to stop?

Why did he have to fuck things up?

He wanted to be a monster that could easily take down any hero in his path, not the monster who would now torment you in your sleep.

Garou gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

Was that what he was to you now? A monster? Did he replace the one who maltreated you before?

He didn’t want to be a monster in your eyes, and the realization hit Garou like a bullet.

Angry at your past abuser, angry at breaking your trust, and angry at himself, Garou forced himself to leave for now.

 .

 His thoughts would instantly drift to you whenever he patched himself up after beating some heroes.

Admittedly, and painfully so, Garou missed the way you fussed over him as you checked and treated his injuries. He missed the slight waver in your voice as you reminded him to look after himself in a fight, told him that it was alright to engage in a brawl but to always remember the safety of his well-being.

It was a funny thought, really. A volunteer nurse, asking him to keep safe while he beat up heroes.

Garou smirked wistfully at the thought.

He also missed the way your hands worked to treat him. How steady they were despite your shaking voice, how light yet sure their movements were as you stitched some of his wounds. He missed the feather-light touches of your fingers on his skin as you probed his chest for any sign of bruises or broken ribs, and how red bloomed on your cheeks every time.

“Why’s your face so red?” he asked you when he took off his shirt for the first time to let you asses the pain on his ribs that he complained about once.

The way your gaze turned flustered and defensive drew a smirk on his lips, eyebrow raised as you tried to save face and kept your gaze anywhere but his exposed skin.

“Nothing. It’s- it’s nothing.”

“Nothing, huh...”

Garou watched with mounting amusement as you bit your lip and resigned yourself with the task you had in mind. The tables turned, however, the moment your fingers tentatively touched his skin.

“Do you mind if I...?”

He only nodded in response, eyes rapt with attention as you gently probed for broken ribs through the bruises that were beginning to bloom on the pale expanse of his torso-

.

.

.

.

-golden eyes shining with what you could only identify as hunger as Garou cornered you against the wall and pressed his body against yours despite your protestations, his face transforming into the grinning visage of the man who hurt you in the past.

[Color] eyes snapped open before your mind could take you deeper into a dream that had quickly spiraled into a nightmare, your chest heaving as you breathed harshly under your sheets.

It had been two weeks since that incident with Garou and your nightmares turned for the worse. You had been getting them ever since he left, turning darker and more terrifying the day you saw him again and fled like a hunted bird.

Garou is my friend.

Tears ran unbidden down your face as you curled on the bed, wracking your brain for reasons - any at all - as to why Garou acted the way he did that day. Did you do something that displeased him? Were you being too annoying with your constant reminders to keep himself safe? Was he getting tired of you fussing over him?

You shook your head, denying - but failing - your own thoughts.

You had been feeling so alone, and to finally have someone who would not even think to judge you for the horrible experiences you’ve had in the past was something you had always wanted and found in Garou. He may be odd sometimes, switching from playful to brooding at times, but he was the most genuine person you’d ever had the privilege of meeting. Despite his desire to crush defeat the heroes and the Association itself, he would always be the hero who saved you from your nightmares and drove away the demons plaguing your mind thereafter.

You had only known him for a short time, but he had been nice to you. Kind, even.

But what made him change? What made his touches linger for longer than necessary, made his gaze constantly zero in on you with an intensity that made your heart beat faster, made him displeased when you talk about your workmates?

“I was bullied when I was a kid. I was isolated, always being treated as if I’m a freak for admiring and rooting for the monster who only wanted to win just for once. I was that to them, the monster.”

Realization hit you like a truck and you could do nothing but cry yourself back to sleep when you remembered how you ran away from him the last time you saw him.

 .

 Tear tracks were still visible on your face, and the first time he saw you like this, Garou knew that he hated it.

He found himself standing in your balcony yet again, and this time he had braved to push aside the glass sliding door (why was it unlocked?) and step inside the one place he realized he missed.

The interior of your modest apartment was still the same, more so the feeling of calm and warmth it had to offer. Just like you, he thought. You always had that effect on him, and it bled through the place you called home.

Garou had made it to your bedroom before he knew it, down on one knee on your bedside and watching you sleep. You looked utterly distressed, brows knitted and lip pressed in a hard line. Your face was blotchy with tears you didn’t bother wiping away, and rage boiled hot and red in his mind.

Was that fucking bastard haunting you in your dreams again?

No, he corrected himself. Garou knew that he had replaced that bastard the moment he laid his hands on you against your will.

Garou was not one to regret the actions he made, but this was an exception. You were one of the few people who cared about him, and what did he do to repay your kindness?

By breaking your trust, your heart, just like what he did to old master Bang.

He wanted to apologize, he really did. But it was not pride that kept him from doing so.

He would never openly admit it, but Garou felt fear. He didn’t mind being called or seen as a monster, for fuck’s sake he reveled in it. But that didn’t mean that he would be fine with you being one of the hypocritical majority.

You were kind. You were one of the two most genuine people he’d had the privilege of meeting. And like the first one, he felt like it was a privilege he wasted.

He left Bang because they couldn’t see eye to eye. He left you because he had broken your trust.

Garou closed his eyes and let his forehead rest on the edge of your bed.

He really was a fuck up, wasn’t he?

A broken sob broke through the red haze of self-hatred in his mind and he quickly lifted his head to look at you.

Fresh tears leaked from your closed eyelids, your hands gripping the pillow you were hugging and hugging it tightly to your chest. Garou watched as your body shook lightly with each sob. He knew this kind of dream - hell, he was always present when you would have them before.

You would always initially struggle against Garou’s arms whenever you dreamed of the bastard who hurt you, whimpers and cries escaping your lips. You would tremble as if you were freezing, pleading, always pleading, for your tormentor to stop. These would always be your body’s subconscious reactions to your nightmares.

But there were times where you would lay limp against him, body shaking ever so lightly as you sobbed quietly, your hands gripping the back of Garou’s shirt like a child and hugging him tightly as if he would let go. These tells were reserved for when your nightmares revolved around you being all alone with no one to hold on to, no one to be with.

One of Garou’s hands automatically found your hair, fingers gently running through your hair and scalp. His gaze turned soft and worried, concerned that you were feeling the same way he did.

You were both alone. Needed friends. And now that you found each other, Garou just had to mess things up by letting his impulse guide him - something that he knew he should never do.

He was glad for the lack of company - he shunned them - before.

Alone was what protected him, it was his only definition for the word before he met you.

Now, he was not so sure as one of your hands found his as he continued to thread his fingers through your hair.

“...rou.”

Garou froze, trying to make sense of what you just mumbled in your sleep. He watched, fascinated, as your much smaller hand tried to wrap around his.

“Ga...”

[Color] eyes met gold as you slowly woke from your troubled dreams.