bloodyfeverdreams

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Like I Could Pull Aside the Mask, and There Would be the Face of My Son, Diego

Soooooo I know this Zorro fandom is literally so dead, as the show's been over for literally over sixty years 😅 but I was watching the show for the first time since I adore Zorro, and as I went, I got an idea for this, annnnd then this happened. Whumptober let me finish this so it counts haha. If y'all don't mind reading fanfics for fandoms you're not familiar with, I'd be really excited if you could try this one. I'll give you a guide so you can follow the story.

Don Diego de la Vega - Zorro, the main character of the show. He's convinced the rest of Los Angeles that he's a dandy, completely inept with a sword in order to keep people from discovering he's Zorro.

Don Alejandro de la Vega - Diego's loving father, who doesn't know who Zorro is under the mask.

Bernardo - Diego's manservant, and best friend. He's mute, and also pretends to be deaf so he can help Diego with being Zorro.

Tornado - Zorro's horse, who's incredibly smart.

Sergeant Garcia - A soldier of the King of Spain, who's not the brightest, who's charged with arresting Zorro while also "secretly" thinking he's a hero

Corporal Reyes - Another soldier, who's probably slightly autistic lol who takes everything Sergeant Garcia says way too literally, and is as dumb as a box of rocks.

The Eagle - The main villain of the second half of the first season.

Juan Ramos - A guy I made up for the sole purpose of hurting Diego.

pueblo - What Los Angeles was before it really became a city. When they say pueblo, they basically mean the whole city.

hacienda - Alejandro's house, he's a rancher, Diego lives there with his father after returning from university in Spain.

cuartel - basically the police force/police station

Okay, now that we've got that out of the way, let's get down to the actual story.

Adrenaline really could be a powerful drug sometimes, Diego thought vaguely. It was why he never drank too much wine when he was drinking, he never liked his senses being dulled. But sometimes, as Zorro, he would get so caught up in the simple act of not getting killed, that his world narrowed to just what he was doing. Facing multiple enemies at once will do that to a person, even the most accomplished swordsman. And while the idea of Zorro could never be destroyed, that didn’t mean that Diego de la Vega wasn’t still just a mortal man.

The Eagle’s men were often very well-trained in swordplay, some even rivaled Diego himself, and this one was no different. Juan Ramon had been sent to smuggle a supply of weapons from Mexico to the Eagle’s men waiting in the outskirts of Los Angeles. As soon as he’d figured out the Eagle’s plan, Diego donned his mask and Zorro rode, and he intercepted the wagon full of the concealed weapons, redirecting it to Sergeant Garcia to prevent any of the Eagle’s men from getting their hands on it. The shipment of weapons had been stopped, but Ramon decided to ride with Sergeant Garcia to capture Zorro, citing the reward. It had been all too easy to evade the Sergeant, as it usually was, but Ramon wasn’t so easily misled, continuing to race after him as he rode on Tornado.

Tornado was the fastest horse in the pueblo, but it seemed nothing would stop Ramon from capturing Zorro. Ramon’s sword slashed at his back, slicing through some of his cape. So he’d turned Tornado around to fight the man honorably, though it seemed the man had none, and their swords began to clash in the darkness. Ramon was a fierce swordsman, a true challenger to Diego’s skills. Being Zorro for so long, he’d gotten very used to fighting in the dark, so he could parry Ramon’s strikes, though fighting on horseback was quite difficult. He didn’t just have to protect himself but he had to protect Tornado. He had no doubt that this man would strike Tornado just to get to him. As his blood thundered through his veins, his heart pounding in his chest, Diego felt the world narrowing to this fight, keeping himself and Tornado alive.

Luck it seemed was on his side though, and he could hear the rattle of a snake in between the crashes of their swords. Ramon’s horse bucked into the air, causing Ramon’s last thrust to veer off course as Ramon was thrown from his horse. Diego could sense that Tornado hadn’t seen the snake yet, though his good friend clearly heard it, and he used his new advantage to ride away before Ramon could get back on his horse to chase after him.

But something strange began to happen as he rode to the hacienda. His vision began to blur a little around the edges as his heart couldn’t slow down. Diego could tell that something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell what, this had never happened to him before. He tried to ignore it, hoping if he just made it home, he could deal with it then, but black spots began to dance across his vision as he rode. After checking that no one was following him, he had Tornado slow down, thinking that would ease his heart into something calmer. Again, it didn’t. Black spots still began to dance across his vision, actually if anything they got worse. At this point, Diego knew that something was terribly wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. He began to slump a little in his saddle, and he became aware of a distant throbbing in his right side. He urged Tornado home, never more grateful that Tornado was the smartest horse in the state, as he was losing the ability to guide Tornado himself.

The throbbing in his side was beginning to get stronger, turning sharper and fouler with a kind of pain he’d never felt before, and he felt himself getting weaker and weaker far too quickly. Diego’s hands then came to his right side, trying to ascertain what was causing his unusual and unpleasant feelings. He ran his fingers up the right side of his shirt, and found part of it to be wet for some reason. He didn’t understand, his sharp, witty mind moving unusually slow, and he looked down at himself.

Wearing all black often let him move around in the pueblo in complete secrecy, moving as one with the shadows. But something he’d never thought of before was that being dressed in black would prevent him from seeing things like blood when they started to stain through his shirt. It wasn’t until he noticed that his shirt was ripped that he even saw the wound. It seemed Ramon’s last strike had found its mark.

All at once, when he finally registered he was wounded, the pain slammed into him like a horse kicking him in the chest. He doubled over, crying out as his hand covered the wound, and his breath left him like he’d been punched in the stomach. His mind went a little dizzy at seeing his flesh sliced open, and he leaned on Tornado to keep himself upright.

“Tornado, take, ahh, take me home.” Diego murmured, his eyes having trouble staying open. But he trusted Tornado, as he was the smartest horse Diego had ever met, and he knew his friend would get him home.

Darkness started to pull at him a little as Tornado trotted along carefully, as if sensing his master was wounded. Pull it together, he thought to himself, the hacienda wasn’t far. He just had to make it back home, and then Bernardo would be able to get him a doctor. He was sure Bernardo would be able to make some excuse of why Diego had been stabbed that didn’t involve Zorro. Probably in a way that made his father disappointed in him again.

Diego’s thoughts began to stray as the pain became unbearable, his body lurching with every step Tornado took. He wasn’t sure why he was thinking of his father, and the disappointed look he always had in his eyes whenever Diego backed down from a fight. Maybe because he’d just fought proudly and honorably for the people he and his father wanted to protect, but his father would never know it. He preferred it that way of course, because he never wanted his father to get caught up in his adventures of Zorro, as he risked his life often and losing his father would absolutely destroy him. But that didn’t make disappointing him any easier.

Thoughts of his father drifted as his body got weaker, as his mind lost the ability to think beyond the pain. He was slumping further and further in the saddle, his body now laying against Tornado’s neck, as he was unable to sit up anymore. His blinks got longer, heavier, his eyes feeling like lead, and he was losing the strength to keep them open.

“Torn’ado, get… get ‘ernardo. Get help…” Diego whimpered, the pain overwhelming him to the point where he could barely speak anymore. The adrenaline that had kept him going this entire time was fading, and he was losing what little strength he had.

But Diego couldn’t see his horse’s answer, as his eyes slipped closed and stayed closed. His body went limp, and he slowly slid out of the saddle. He collapsed onto the ground with a soft groan. He felt Tornado nuzzle his face, heard the fright in his friend’s neighs, but he couldn’t respond beyond a low moan. Tornado tried to get him up once more, but Diego still lay unmoving on his side. With the little bit of strength he had left, Diego tried to reach out to Tornado, unsure of what he was even reaching for, but desperate to try and not give into this darkness. Even though Zorro was a fearless hero, Diego was still just a man, and he was scared he was going to die here in the dirt, away from anyone he loved. His hand trembled as he fought as hard as he could, putting all of his remaining strength into trying to move, but his hand went slack as the little strength he had waned, and he collapsed into darkness.

Originally, Alejandro had wanted Diego to ride with him this morning since he thought that getting some fresh air would do his bookworm son some good, but when he knocked, Diego hadn’t answered. He assumed his son must still be asleep, having stayed up late due to his books and poems, no doubt. Thinking that he’d just see his son at breakfast,  Alejandro decided to ride  across his hacienda alone.

Riding across the hacienda every morning had become a part of his routine when he’d sent Diego off to Spain to finish his education. He’d missed his son terribly, so he’d taken to riding in the morning to clear his head to start the day. Diego had always loved riding when he was younger, so Alejandro rode in the mornings to make him feel close to his son while he was gone. And even though Diego had returned from Spain, Alejandro still missed the young boy he’d sent to college. Diego had been such a rambunctious youth, always getting into trouble, always swinging his sword at every problem in an effort to imitate his father. He wasn’t sure what had changed in his son during university, but something had. So Alejandro still rode every morning to clear his head, to let him focus on the day ahead of him, and to think about his son. He’d tried to understand, tried to get Diego to tell him what had happened to him, but Diego had suddenly become very evasive over his true feelings, and he wouldn’t speak to his father the way he used to. Whatever it was that had happened, he hoped that Diego would tell him eventually. He wanted his son to trust him, regardless of what path he walked in life.

A horse’s neigh started him out of his thoughts, and he was stunned to see Zorro’s black horse riding up to him. He’d only seen the horse a few times when he’d run into the outlaw, but it seemed that Zorro owned the only black horse in the entire pueblo, and everyone would recognize the horse on sight. But something was wrong, as an experienced ranchero like him would immediately spot the tell-tale signs in the horse. The horse came up to Alejandro without fear, and bucked a little. Alejandro could tell the horse knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell what.

“Where is your master, horse?” Alejandro murmured, very confused as to why he was seeing Zorro’s horse without seeing Zorro. The horse still had his complete saddle on so Zorro must have been with him last night. Then the horse then nipped at his arm, gently grasping Alejandro’s jacket and pulling. The kind of control Zorro’s horse had of nipping at him without hurting him was incredible, and Alejandro wondered how Zorro had been able to train his horse so well. The horse nipped at him again, clearly trying to communicate through their language barrier, and he could tell the horse clearly thought whatever it was it was urgent.

“You want me to follow you, is that it?” Alejandro asked, and even though he hadn’t been expecting an answer, it seemed the horse was smarter than Alejandro thought and immediately took off. The horse turned a little, looking at him, and Alejandro nudged his own horse on, following Zorro’s horse.

When the horse realized that Alejandro was indeed following him, Zorro’s horse took off like a shot. Alejandro had to ride quickly to keep up, and the faster the horse ran, the more worried he became. Dread churned in his gut the more distance they covered, and Alejandro wondered what he would find when they finally reached their destination. Animals were often much smarter than most people thought, especially the ones who didn’t spend their lives raising them and training them. But Alejandro was an expert in horses, and he knew that Zorro’s horse wouldn’t have left his master without a good reason.

His eyes went wide when he finally saw what the horse had been leading him to. Zorro was lying on the ground, facedown, in a pool of blood, and he didn’t seem to be moving. Alejandro couldn’t even tell if the man was even breathing. Even though Zorro was a bandit, an outlaw, Alejandro respected him immensely for always riding for justice. He hadn’t forgotten how Zorro had saved him from Comandante Monastario, and how he owed Zorro his life. So Alejandro acted immediately, dismounting the moment he saw the still form of the hero, and he rushed to the man’s side. His hands hovered over Zorro for a moment, but then Alejandro grabbed the man’s shoulder and rolled him over, instantly leaning down to the man’s chest to check his heart. Alejandro could hear the soft thump-thump of Zorro’s heart, though he thought it sounded a little too fast, but the important thing was that the man was alive, and that meant that Alejandro could help him.

Even though Alejandro was getting up in years, he was still able to slide his arms underneath Zorro’s back and knees and he was able to lift the man into the air. He whistled his horse down, and with his horse kneeling, he was able to finagle the unconscious man onto his saddle and get behind him. Zorro was a little taller than he was, just about Diego’s height, so his head lolled onto Alejandro’s shoulder as they began to ride away. Alejandro had one hand on his horse’s reins and the other over Zorro’s chest, holding the unconscious man in the saddle as he whistled for his horse to take them back to the hacienda. Even though Alejandro hadn’t said anything, Zorro’s horse trailed after them, still upset and as frantic as a horse could get, easily matching his horse’s strides. Zorro truly had a magnificent horse, he’d never seen a horse so loyal before.

As they rode home, Alejandro wondered how long Zorro had been lying unconscious on the ground before his horse found Alejandro, how long his horse had clearly sought help. Zorro rocked back and forth limply in Alejandro’s arms as they rode, and Alejandro’s grip got tighter as they approached the hacienda. Even though he was being bounced around a little on Alejandro’s horse, Zorro still hadn’t woken up, and a pit of dread was starting to form in Alejandro’s stomach. With Zorro’s head on his shoulder, he could feel the man’s shallow breathing, and he prayed that he had gotten to the heroic outlaw in time to save the man’s life.

The hacienda was quiet as Alejandro approached, which was usual, as his vaqueros were already out taking care of the cattle and horses, and the servants were most likely still preparing breakfast. Alejandro rode into his hacienda, and he opened his mouth to call Diego down so he could help, but he thought better of it. He didn’t want to put any of his servants or employees in any danger by associating with someone who helped Zorro, even if they loved Zorro. But thankfully, Diego’s manservant exited Diego’s room, probably having just woken Diego for breakfast. Bernardo saw them almost immediately, and he ran down the stairs, coming right up to Alejandro and Zorro. Alejandro dismounted his horse, and Bernardo helped him ease Zorro’s limp body down from his horse and together, they wrapped his arms around their shoulders.

Unfortunately, Zorro’s horse had followed them into the hacienda, still very attached to his master, and Alejandro tried to gently shoo the horse away.

“Go on, horse.” Alejandro waved the horse away with the hand not currently holding the still unconscious Zorro. “We’ve got him, you’ve got to get out of here. It’s dangerous, you must go.”

The horse just neighed and bucked in response, obviously not wanting to leave Zorro’s side. But in order to keep Zorro safe, it had to be a complete secret that he was here, and this horse was far too recognizable. Bernardo turned to him and gestured for him to take all of Zorro’s weight. Alejandro was confused, but Diego trusted this man, and he trusted Diego’s judgment. So he held the limp Zorro in his arms as Bernardo approached Zorro’s horse. Strangely enough, the horse actually reacted to the deaf-mute. When the man put his hand on the horse’s chest, the horse calmed a little. Bernardo then pointed for the horse to leave, and miraculously, Zorro’s horse actually trotted away, obviously returning to where he lived with Zorro. Alejandro stared at Bernardo for a moment, completely bewildered by the man’s actions, but Bernardo then took Zorro’s other arm from him and wrapped it around his shoulders. Alejandro knew he could be confused as to why Zorro’s horse had reacted to a man he’d never met later, right now, they had to get Zorro into the hacienda where no one would stumble upon him.

“We need to find shelter for him.” Alejandro said, and then cursed himself as the man stared at him a little. Right, he couldn’t hear. Lord, he didn’t know how Diego communicated so well with the man. Bernardo then pointed to Diego’s room, and Alejandro nodded. Diego would have no issues giving up his bed for Zorro. He knew that Diego always spoke about how Zorro was a criminal, but he knew the twinkle in his son’s eyes when he was teasing, even if others didn’t.

So Alejandro and Bernardo carried Zorro’s unconscious body up the stairs, and maneuvered him into Diego’s room. Surprisingly, his son wasn’t there as he’d expected Diego to be. He wanted to ask where Diego was, but Bernardo couldn’t hear so that would have to be a question for later. Maybe his son had already gone down for an early breakfast.

Carefully, Alejandro and Bernardo laid Zorro down on Diego’s still made bed. Alejandro removed Zorro’s hat and torn cape, and Bernardo removed Zorro’s shoes and gloves. Then Alejandro gently pulled at the fabric stuck to Zorro’s skin, and hissed at the sight in sympathy. There was a roughly three inch gash in the man’s right side, dried blood mixing in with the dirt Alejandro had found him in. When Bernardo saw the gash, his face was extremely expressive in his worry. Bernardo placed his hand on Zorro’s forehead, and Zorro’s cheeks. He looked at Alejandro, clearly frightened and Alejandro gently touched the man’s skin around the wound. Dammit. It was already warm with fever. Alejandro cursed under his breath.

“Okay. We have to clean the wound, and no one can know he’s here.” Alejandro said slowly, trying to use gestures to explain what he was saying. Thankfully, the man seemed to understand, and he nodded. Alenajdro then gestured to the room, and the books that Diego loved so much. “Where’s Diego?”

Bernardo struggled a little, his gestures not making any sense. Alejandro sighed, wondering how Diego dealt with this all the time. At least his bookworm son had learned patience in Spain. Bernardo then shrugged, and Alejandro sighed. “I have no idea what you’re saying.”

Well, he could worry about where Diego had disappeared to later. Zorro needed him now. He trusted his son, Diego would be alright without his father and his manservant for a little while. His son was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

“Go get some water and several soft cloths.” Alejandro said, and tried to mime that to Bernardo. Even though Alejandro was not used to communicating only with his hands, Bernardo nodded quickly, and slipped out of the room. Having been deaf his whole life, he was probably very used to understanding gestures.

Even though Alejandro only knew cattle and horses, and wasn’t a doctor himself, he’d seen enough injuries over the course of his life that he had a fair idea of what to do. He had to clean the wound, stitch Zorro back up, and let him rest for at least a few days so he could recover from the blood loss and fever. He hoped that that was all Zorro needed, as Alejandro wouldn’t risk bringing a doctor to the hacienda unless it was at the uttermost end of need. The less people who knew of this secret the better.

Bernardo was rather quick in his return, carrying a large basin of water with several soft washcloths. Alejandro cleared a space on Diego’s nightstand for the man to set everything down. Alejandro then tried to gesture for Bernardo to lock Diego’s door, and he nodded quickly. At least now no one would be able to come in unannounced. Diego would understand why he was locked out of his own room once he came home.

When the man returned to Diego’s bed, worry still written clearly on his face, he pointed at Zorro, and then pretended to undress himself. Alejandro nodded resolutely. “You’re right, let’s get his shirt off.”

Bernardo then came around to the other side of Diego’s bed, and carefully, they eased Zorro’s body into somewhat of a sitting position. Alejandro ripped the already torn sash around Zorro’s waist and removed his gloves, and Bernardo supported Zorro’s unconscious body as Alejandro began to slowly try to remove Zorro’s shirt. The man moaned softly in pain as he did so, and while it hurt Alejandro’s heart, he was almost glad for it. The heroic outlaw wasn’t too far gone if he was still able to make noises. Bernardo helped Alejandro wrangle Zorro’s limp arms out of his shirt before they managed to pull it off his head. The pull of the fabric pulled a little at Zorro’s mask and bandana, and when that happened, Alejandro saw Zorro’s eyes open a little. He must have trained himself to recognize anything trying to unmask him, even when he was barely conscious.

“No… n-no…” Zorro whimpered, his trembling hand trying to come to his mask.

“Shh, it’s alright, Zorro. You’re safe here.” Alejandro took Zorro’s hand and squeezed gently. Zorro weakly tried to pull away, his hand trying to come back to his mask. Alejandro could see the fear in Zorro’s eyes, so he spoke with pure conviction, his only goal reassuring the outlaw. “I give you my word, Zorro. We will not unmask you. You’re safe here.”

Zorro stared at him with brown eyes that reminded him of Diego, and he must have seen Alejandro’s sincerity even though the haze of his fever, and he nodded a little, his head then falling limply down as his hand clutched Alejandro’s as tightly as he could. It frightened Alejandro with just how weak Zorro’s grip was.

“... hurts.” Zorro moaned, clearly insentient from the fever, as Alejandro doubted that the masked man would ever admit he was in pain if he were fully in control of his wits.

Again, Alejandro was reminded of Diego, of a time when Diego had been about twelve years old, still young but trying so hard to be a man like his father. Diego had climbed a tree to impress the young Rosarita Cortez, but he’d been more concerned about showing off to the girl he was infatuated with than caution, and he’d slipped and fallen out of the tree. He’d landed hard on his left wrist, and Alejandro had immediately taken him to the doctor in town. As Diego had clung to him in the saddle, he’d made the same exact sound, whispering that it hurts. He’d been trying very hard not to cry, but constantly being jostled around in the saddle had overwhelmed the small boy. But Alejandro had promised his young son that admitting he was in pain was a strength, and not a weakness. Diego then started sobbing into his father’s shirt as Alejandro rode to the doctor, and he comforted his young son as best as he could. If he remembered correctly, Diego still had the scar on his left wrist from the break, even though he’d fully healed years ago. But now was not the time to reminisce about his son. He needed to think about the man in front of him now.

Somehow, as if sensing Zorro’s distress, Bernardo then pulled down Zorro’s mask so it properly covered his face again. The restoration of his mask seemed to calm the outlaw, and his eyelids fluttered as he struggled to remain conscious. Alejandro wondered if he should let the man sleep again, as what he was about to do was going to be painful, but he also didn’t want the man slipping into unconsciousness again to the point where Zorro wouldn’t wake up again.

“Lay him back down.” Alejandro said, there was silence and stillness for a moment, and then he gestured for Bernardo to lay him back down. Gently, Bernardo laid Zorro back down, careful with his head, until Zorro was once again laying flat in Diego’s bed.

Alejandro then reached over, grabbed a small cloth, and dipped it into the water. The water was only slightly cool, and Alejandro hoped that this wouldn’t be too much of a shock to Zorro’s fevered skin. Bernardo then got his attention, and gestured for a cloth of his own. He mimed placing something on his eyes, and Alejandro nodded, understanding. He handed Bernardo the cloth he’d had and grabbed another one. Bernardo folded the damp cloth and then placed it over Zorro’s eyes, over his mask. Alejandro hoped that would help ease the heroic outlaw into knowing that his secret was safe with them.

Taking a deep breath, Alejandro then brought the cool cloth to Zorro’s right side, starting with the skin around the wound. Zorro whimpered in pain at the touch of the cool cloth, but Alejandro knew he couldn’t stop even if his actions were going to cause the man pain. He slowly began to wipe away the dried blood and dirt around Zorro’s wound, trying not to use too much pressure but also trying to make sure he washed off all of the dirt around the wound. As he worked, he saw Bernardo out of the corner of his eye, gently stroking Zorro’s cheek, most likely trying to do what little he could to comfort the suffering man.

Stroke after stroke, Alejandro used gentle pressure to wipe away the dried blood and dirt around the gash in Zorro’s side. He tried to ignore the soft noises of pain that slipped past the outlaw’s lips, knowing that even though this hurt, he needed to clean the wound so Zorro could heal. But each noise twisted his gut a little, even if his hands remained steady as he cleansed the man’s skin. For a reason Alejandro couldn’t figure out, Zorro’s noises of pain sounded almost exactly like Diego. Alejandro ignored it, thinking that it was just his paternal instincts responding to Zorro’s pain as Zorro had the same eyes as his son. Though, Zorro clearly had much more muscle than his scholarly son, training to fence as well to be as skilled as Zorro was would of course build up that muscle. He wished Diego had put that much devotion into his fencing skills rather than his books. He’d heard from around town of just how hopeless his son was with a sword, which he didn’t understand. Diego had been a fine swordsman when he’d left for Spain. Even if he didn’t fence the entire time he was there, he shouldn’t be so hopeless now.

Even though Alejandro couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting to Diego, his hands moved just as they should. Slowly, carefully, he gently cleared away the dried blood and dirt away from Zorro’s right side. When he finished, he looked back up at Zorro. Bernardo was still softly stroking his cheek, and Alejandro saw droplets of water running down Zorro’s cheeks. Alejandro hoped that they were from the cool compress over his eyes, rather than the poor man being in so much pain that he was crying, though he knew it was probably the latter. Alejandro sighed. Unfortunately, it was only going to get worse.

“Bernardo, hold him down.” Alejandro said, trying to gesture to the deaf-mute. “This is going to be painful.”

He saw the fear on Bernardo’s face, as if he could hear the grimness in Alejandro’s tone, but most likely, he just understood what had to come next. Bernardo shifted a little, using his arm to pin Zorro’s shoulder’s to the bed. Using his other arm, Alejandro pinned Zorro’s waist to the bed, and he took another deep breath, trading the dirty cloth for a clean one.

Alejandro then brought the clean cloth to the wound itself. Zorro shrieked in pain as soon as Alejandro touched it, but Bernardo quickly covered Zorro’s mouth, trying to muffle the shrieks and groans of pain as Alejandro worked. The wound had stopped bleeding at some point during the night, but as soon as he began to try and wipe the dirt from the gash, it started bleeding sluggishly once again. Having been a ranchero all his life, Alejandro was very used to blood, human or cattle. But out of all the blood he’d seen in his life, this was the worst. This wasn’t some vaquero who’d been gored by a bull for getting too close to his mate, this wasn’t a man who’d accidentally cut himself as he was fixing the perimeter fence, this wasn’t a man who’d been kicked by a horse. This was a man who’d been intentionally injured because he fought for justice and cared about all people in the pueblo. Still, Alejandro had to do a job to keep the man alive, so he pushed away all thoughts of the cruelty of this wound.

With Bernardo muffling Zorro’s sounds as best as he could, Alejandro worked, trying to get all of the grime in the wound. He had to use a fair amount of his strength to keep Zorro pinned down, but he tried not to focus on that, on how much pain this was causing the man. He just did his best to work as quickly as he could without losing his caution and attention to detail. It felt like it took hours upon hours to make sure there was no more dirt in the wound, but just as he was finishing up, Zorro went completely limp in their arms. The poor man must have passed out from the pain. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, but at least the man wasn’t in agony anymore. Alejandro finished cleaning the wound as Zorro lay unconscious in Diego’s bed, and he sighed heavily when he thought that this would be as clean as he could get a wound like this.

Alejandro then stood up, taking the bloody rags, and threw them in Diego’s fireplace. When he turned back to the man, he saw silent tears running down Bernardo’s cheeks as he continued to stroke Zorro’s face. Even though the man couldn’t hear the horrid cries of excruciating pain he’d been trying to muffle, it seemed he could still tell just how much pain Zorro had been in, and tried to do what little he could to comfort the outlaw. Alejandro then placed his hand on Bernardo’s shoulder, surprising the man a little, but the deaf-mute just nodded at him. The man then started miming the act of sewing, and Alejandro motioned for him to continue. Bernardo then slipped off of Diego’s bed, and went to his desk. He ruffled around for a little bit before returning with some skin sewing thread, which confused Alejandro.

“Why does Diego have medical supplies in his desk?” Alejandro asked.

Bernardo must have understood the question even though he didn’t hear it, and he picked up one of Diego’s books, and pulled his hand back as if he’d been injured.

“He has sewing thread for the skin in case of a papercut?” Alejandro said incredulously, unable to believe that Diego would have something so extreme for something as insignificant as a papercut.

Again, Bernardo seemed to understand, probably going off of his facial expression, and he shook his head. He mimed getting another papercut, and Alejandro realized he’d gotten the wrong conclusion from his actions. Bernardo then mimed riding a horse, and Alejandro finally thought he understood. The man was just using a book to imitate the sensation of getting cut. He remembered how Diego had struggled to ride Princessa even though he was a fantastic rider, how sore he’d been after he’d slipped off of her. When he’d seen his son on the ground, he’d been afraid that Diego had been seriously hurt. Suddenly hitting the ground after being on a horse could cause any manner of injuries. Diego must have the thread because he knew just how dangerous it was to be thrown from a horse, and that sometimes the doctor couldn’t be reached immediately. If anything, his bookworm son had a good, logical head on his shoulders.

“I understand, come here.” Alejandro said, waving the man closer. Bernardo came to him, handing him the thread. He could see the hesitance in the deaf-mute’s face as Bernardo mimed sewing, clearly trying to ask a question.

“Yes, I can do this.” Alejandro nodded. He’d stitched up small wounds on cattle before, so he was confident that he could handle this. He then guided Bernardo’s hands to Zorro’s skin, lightly pressing the wound together. Zorro made another small sound of discomfort but he didn’t move, so Alejandro assumed the man was still unconscious, and Alejandro thought this was the best time to do this.

Alejandro threaded the needle, and with a fierce determination, he began to sew Zorro’s skin together. The process was arduously slow, and every time the needle pierced Zorro’s flesh, he let out another soft noise of pain, feeling the agony even as he slept. It broke Alejandro’s heart, but he didn’t let that affect him. Bernardo had turned away, unable to keep looking as Alejandro stitched the gash closed, and Alejandro didn’t blame him. Sometimes even the most experienced vaquero could be sick at the sight of an injury like this.

Puncture right, push through, puncture under the left, pull, switch sides, then repeat. The repetitive process of sewing Zorro’s skin back together was grueling, as the man had never stopped making those small noises of pain that reminded far too much of Diego. But eventually, after what felt like ten hours but was actually about ten minutes, and roughly twenty stitches later, Alejandro finished stitching the wound shut. Zorro’s skin kept twitching a little as his body adjusted to the stitches, but Alejandro knew that the man’s body would calm after a little while. Alejandro readjusted the cool compress over Zorro’s eyes, feeling Zorro’s warm forehead, but other than keeping Zorro safe and helping with his fever, Alejandro wasn’t sure what else he could do to help the outlaw.

As soon as Alejandro had finished stitching, Bernardo had let go, just staring sadly at Zorro. Alejandro grabbed Bernardo’s shoulder, trying to do what he could to comfort the man. Bernardo just looked at him. Bernardo then gestured to Zorro, and then mimed looking for something and then a question mark.

“I’m not sure,” Alejandro said, still speaking aloud even though the man couldn’t hear him. “I don’t know if the soldiers know he’s wounded, but I suppose it’s only a matter of time. So we must keep his presence here a complete secret.”

Alejandro tried to communicate his words in gestures, which was still a struggle, but Bernardo nodded, so he assumed he might have done something right. He then looked to Diego’s locked door, wondering where his son was. Diego wasn’t the type to go missing for such long periods of time. Alejandro noticed that Diego’s bed hadn’t seemed slept in, but he just assumed that Diego had gotten up during his father’s ride and Bernardo had just remade the bed. Of all the times to be off by himself reading his books or doing whatever it was that he was doing. His son truly had become a mystery since his return from Spain.

But now that the worst part was over, Alejandro was able to focus on other things again. Alejandro then got Bernardo’s attention.

He pointed at Zorro, and then tried to mime riding a horse, and then used his fingers trying to imitate how Zorro’s horse had listened to the deaf-mute. “How on earth did you get Zorro’s horse to obey you?”

Bernardo seemed to understand his question, and then he pointed at Zorro and also mimed riding a horse. He then mimed a lasso, and reached out and held an imaginary horse. Finally he mimed a spoof of one of the king’s soldiers.

“Ah, when Zorro’s horse had been captured by the soldiers, yes.” Alejandro murmured, speaking aloud instinctively. He nodded and then motioned for Bernardo to continue.

Bernardo pointed to himself and used his fingers to imitate walking and then the horse again.

“You were walking by where they were keeping the horse.”

Bernardo mimed the satirized version of a soldier again. Then he mimed a whip, and Alejandro gasped lightly.

“One of the soldiers was whipping Zorro’s horse?” Alejandro asked. “How dishonorable, attacking a defenseless animal like that.”

Bernardo continued as if he hadn’t spoken, miming the whip again, and catching it in the air. He then waved his finger from side to side in a fierce ‘no’.

“You tried to stop him.” Alejandro nodded, putting the puzzle pieces together in his head. Bernardo had been near the corral, and had tried to intervene when he saw the soldier whipping the horse. With as smart as Zorro’s horse seemed to be, that easily explained how Zorro’s horse knew that Bernardo could be trusted. “So he knows you as a friend. I see.”

It was very lucky indeed that Alejandro had been the one who found Zorro. The horse would’ve followed his master into the hacienda of whoever had found him, as everyone in the pueblo would have taken Zorro in, and they might not have been able to send the horse away. He did wonder where the horse went, but Zorro needed his attention more. He had wanted to wait a little to wrap the wound, wanting to give the poor man a break as his body adjusted to the stitches, but now it was time to continue.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Alejandro said slowly, trying his best to mime out his words. “I have some extra bandages in my room from when I was injured, I need to go get them.”

Bernardo nodded. Alejandro still marveled at how easily Bernardo was able to understand him, even though he couldn’t hear him. Alejandro then slipped out of Diego’s room, and carefully came to his own room. He searched through his drawers and found the bandages. As long as the wound didn’t reopen, he thought what he had would be enough.

A knock startled him, and he shoved the bandages into his pocket to hide them. He took a deep breath to steady himself before answering, “Yes?”

“Senor, breakfast is ready.” Alejandro sighed, recognizing his servant’s voice. He’d been afraid that it would be a soldier looking for Zorro.

Alejandro then exited his room. “I shall come down for it later, my son and I have some important business to attend to. I ask that you don’t disturb us.”

The servant nodded, and Alejandro just sighed, walking causally back to Diego’s room. But he trusted his son. Diego was a smart boy, when he returned if anyone asked about this ‘new important business’, his son would easily catch on that his father needed him.

He was beginning to become worried, as it was not like his son to go somewhere where he’d be gone for a while without telling anyone. But he trusted his son to be careful. He was sure Diego was alright. As his father, he felt he’d know if something happened to his son. Still, the longer Diego went without coming home, the more worried he became. Oh mijo, where are you?

Alejandro slipped back into Diego’s room, and pulled the bandages out of his pocket. Bernardo helped ease Zorro into a sitting position again, causing the man to again make a soft noise of pain as they unfortunately jostled his wound. Bernardo then got his attention and mimed a circle and then pointed at himself. It seemed Bernardo wanted to wrap the bandages. Alejandro nodded, seeing no reason to deny him, and handed him the cotton bandages.

Holding Zorro by the shoulders, Alejandro then adjusted himself so he was holding Zorro upright. Bernardo then began to softly wrap the bandages around Zorro’s wound. The man’s touch was incredibly delicate, almost reverent, like he was bandaging a close friend. Maybe Zorro had thanked him for rescuing his horse from that cruel, dishonorable man in some sort of way and Bernardo felt indebted to him as he did, as many did after encountering the hero.

Alejandro watched as Bernardo’s nimble fingers wrapped the white cotton around Zorro’s abdomen. Bernardo moved quickly but tenderly, making sure not to cause any further pain to the hero. He seemed very experienced in this, and a small part of Alejandro hoped that he’d just learned how to do this in his training as a manservant, and not because he’d bandaged an injured Diego before. He hoped that wasn’t what changed his son while he was in Spain. He’d seen the aftereffects of some battles that left men shaking whenever they held a sword again.

Swathes of white soon covered Zorro’s abdomen, and Bernardo tied the two ends together. Together, they laid Zorro against the pillows once more, and adjusted him so he’d be as comfortable as he could be. Alejandro sighed. At least now, all they needed to do was let Zorro rest. They shouldn’t need to cause him any more pain.

With Zorro taken care of Alejandro needed to tend to the hacienda as he always did, trying to assume a look of normalcy. No one could suspect that Zorro was here, that anything was out of the ordinary. And even though Alejandro wanted to remain with Zorro, to watch over the hero as he had watched over Alejandro, it would be better for him to keep the secret and act completely normal. That would keep him the safest.

“Watch over him.” Alejandro said, pointing to his eyes and to Zorro. “I need to tend to the hacienda, otherwise it will seem suspicious.”

Bernardo nodded, and Alejandro placed his hand on Bernardo’s shoulder before heading out. Even though he didn’t really feel like eating, he went down to breakfast anyway. Maybe Diego would be there, waiting with a smile that always calmed Alejandro’s heart.

Bernardo had been exhausted from waiting up all night for Diego to return, but the second he saw his friend in Don Alejandro’s arms, he’d suddenly become wide awake. It was as if he’d drunk a whole keg of coffee, his heart racing in his chest at seeing his friend so injured. Bernardo knew that being Zorro was risky for Diego, it was risky for him too when he joined his friend, but this was the first time Diego had really gotten injured. There had been that one instance when Diego had hit his head against a rock, but he’d been fine afterwards, except for a rather strong headache. He’d been perfectly fine after a little rest. This injury would not go away so easily.

Holding Diego down as his father cleaned the wound was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. Hearing Don Alejandro’s promise to not unmask Diego had been slightly comforting, but his friend was so injured, already afflicted with fever that it was hard to feel it. He’d had trouble keeping up the ruse that he was also deaf, especially when Diego had started screaming in pain. Covering his mouth to muffle his sounds broke Bernardo’s heart, but he knew it was necessary. Diego couldn’t be found here like this, unable to defend himself, and Diego certainly wouldn’t want his father being implicated in helping Zorro, no matter what state he was in.

When Diego finally passed out from the pain, Bernardo didn’t know whether to be grateful or distraught. While he hated to see his friend be in pain, he longed to see Diego’s eyes open once again, so Bernardo could see that he was alive, he was awake. But even in unconsciousness, Diego wasn’t relieved of the pain. He’d kept stroking Diego’s face as gently as he could, trying to bring what little softness and comfort he could to his best friend, trying to give Diego something to focus on that wasn’t the horrible pain he was in. Unfortunately, it hadn’t seemed to work, as Diego continued to make those soft noises of pain as Don Alejandro worked, even after he’d finally lost consciousness.

Bernardo had almost been sick at having to hold the two edges of Diego’s skin closer so Don Alejandro could stitch them together, but he forced himself to be strong for his friend. Diego had always been so strong for him, defending him from people who thought that his inability to speak was a deficiency and made him unintelligent. It was one of the main reasons he’d become so devoted to Diego, who never got frustrated with him because he couldn’t speak. In Spain, Diego had never let anyone speak ill of Bernardo, even dueling a couple of people because they insulted him. Diego was one of the kindest, most patient men he’d ever met, and Bernardo would do anything for the man who had become his best friend. He’d never thought he’d become best friends with someone who was sixteen years younger than him, but Diego was special. He’d never had such a good friend before. So no matter what, no matter how ugly or hard this healing process would be for him to watch, he’d see Diego through this if it killed him.

When Don Alejandro told him he was leaving to keep up appearances, Bernardo nodded, wanting some time alone with his friend. Bernardo locked the door behind him, so he wouldn’t be disturbed. Slumping a little in relief, Bernardo immediately came back to his friend. Gently, Bernardo removed Diego’s bandana and then his mask. This time, Diego’s eyes remained closed, knowing Bernardo’s touch even in sleep. Bernardo then dipped another one of the cloths into the water, and began to dab at the dirt still on Diego’s face, trying hard not to wake him. Judging by the dirt on Diego’s body, he must have fallen off of Tornado at some point. He wondered how long Diego had laid in the dirt before Don Alejandro had found him.

Tenderly, Bernardo began to reveal Diego’s soft skin from under the dirt. His friend slept on, unaware, only occasionally murmuring nonsense in his sleep. He’d never known Diego to talk in his sleep before, but fevers often did strange things to people. So he just focused on his task, gently cleansing Diego’s face with the cool water. This way, Don Alejandro didn’t have to do it and they wouldn’t have to risk Diego’s father potentially accidentally seeing under his mask. Bernardo knew that Don Alejandro promised he wouldn’t unmask Zorro, but still. He and Diego didn’t like to take risks they didn’t have to.

As he worked, little droplets of water ran down Diego’s face, mixing in with the tear tracks so obvious within the dirt that still remained. Bernardo softly stroked Diego’s face with his fingers again, looking sadly upon his friend. Seeing Diego cry was such a rarity that the memories were vivid in his mind. The first time was when Diego wept at the bedside of a good friend when he’d died unexpectedly of yellow fever, and the second was at a wedding as Diego (and most of the crowd) had teared up during the vows. And now this was the third.

Once Diego’s forehead and eyes were clear, Bernardo immediately put the mask back on. Even though the door was locked, he knew Diego would be more comfortable with it on. Despite his fever, Diego still clearly had enough of his wits to remember that he was Zorro, not Don Diego de la Vega. Bernardo hoped the mask’s presence would give Diego the emotional comfort he clearly needed to reassure him that his identity had remained a secret.

Bernardo’s touch was gentle as he brought the cool cloth to Diego’s cheeks, but it seemed that all the touches to his mask and face had woken his friend anyway. Diego’s brow furrowed as his eyes fluttered open. Bernardo could see the fevered glaze in Diego’s brown eyes, and his heart hurt for his friend.

“Ber… bern’do?” Diego whimpered, and Bernardo was grateful that Diego wasn’t too far gone to not recognize him. Bernardo cupped Diego’s cheek gently, and Diego whispered, “wha…?”

Bernardo shushed him gently by putting his finger on Diego’s lips, and then he took Diego’s hand. When he’d first become Diego’s friend, Bernardo had taught him a few hand positions to use as a way to communicate with him. He’d taught Diego the same signs his family had used for the alphabet. It wasn’t something he needed to use often, as Diego was unusually good at communicating with him, but it was what he used to spell out his words as a last resort.

Carefully, Bernardo shifted Diego’s fingers into a fist, with his index and middle fingers raised, and he waited for Diego to recognize it. It took a moment for Diego to understand him through his fever, but eventually he murmured a breathless, “U…” Bernardo then crossed Diego’s fingers, and again waited. “R…” Bernardo guided Diego’s fingers into four successive letters, and when Diego didn’t respond except a confused noise, he did it again. “S-s-a-fe. Safe.”

Bernardo nodded, and cupped Diego’s cheek again. “‘ts good.”

Diego’s eyelids seem to hang heavy over his eyes, and Bernardo’s fingers softly brushed over his bandana. He then grabbed the glass of water he’d gotten earlier, and brought it to Diego’s lips, cradling Diego’s head to help ease him up. Diego wasn’t strong enough to hold the glass, but he managed a few sips of cool water.

“Tor… tornado.” Diego suddenly gasped, his exhausted eyes opening wider in fear, and Bernardo shushed him gently again, setting the glass aside.

Bernardo mimed himself sending Tornado back to their secret hideout, and then he softly stroked Diego’s forehead again. Diego nodded weakly, understanding that Tornado was safe too. Tornado was a smart horse, he’d keep himself out of trouble.

It seemed that the knowledge that he and Tornado were safe was enough for Diego to slip back into sleep, and Bernardo just stroked his cheek until he was sure Diego was deeply asleep again. Bernardo then brought the damp cloth to Diego’s cheeks, softly washing the dirt from Diego’s skin. His touch was featherlight, not wanting to wake Diego again when he clearly didn’t have the strength to stay awake.

After that, Bernardo worked in complete silence, just washing the dirt from Diego’s cheeks, and then Diego’s neck. His costume covered everything else except the wound, and that had already been taken care of. But just as Bernardo placed the dirty, damp cloth to the side, he noticed a thin sheen of sweat on Diego’s skin. He felt Diego’s forehead again, still feeling too warm as the fever burned within him. Hopefully it would burn itself out soon. Diego would need all of his strength to recover from this wound.

Diego hadn’t been at breakfast. He also hadn’t been home for lunch. Alejandro hoped that Diego was just in town, with his friends, and that he was alright. It really was not like Diego to go for so long without at least telling his father where he would be going. The only thing he could think of was that Diego had taken a spur of the moment trip, perhaps to the mission, as potentially someone in town wanted his presence. Still, Diego usually stopped by the hacienda to tell his father where he was going, but perhaps this was an emergency. Alejandro just hoped that Diego came home soon, he missed him.

It was evening by the time that Alejandro had been able to return to Zorro’s side without arousing suspicion. It took a little while for him to get the deaf-mute’s attention inside, but eventually Bernardo unlocked the door upon seeing him.

“You should get some rest, Bernardo.” Alejandro said, doing his best to mime, seeing the exhaustion on Bernardo’s face. “I’ll watch over him for the night.”

Bernardo seemed torn, looking at Zorro with forlorn eyes, obviously not wanting to part from the hero. Alejandro placed his hand on Bernardo’s shoulder, miming “I’ll fetch you if I need you.”

While the man clearly still did not want to go, he did nod. Alejandro wondered if the man had slept the previous night, but whatever had exhausted him was catching up to him. Bernardo took one last look at Zorro, but he went to the door. He knocked three times in a rhythm, and then again. Alejandro realized he was setting up a code for him to use, so he nodded, showing he understood. At least Alejandro could hear the knocks when Bernardo wanted back in.

Alejandro sat at Zorro’s bedside, watching the hero sleep with a worried expression. Zorro’s eyes darted around under his eyelids, his body restless and trembling. Alejandro pressed his hand to Zorro’s forehead, and frowned at the heat he found. All they could do now was hope that an infection had not taken hold and that what was causing this fever would not be as serious as that. An infection would mean Alejandro would need to fetch a doctor, and he hoped that he wouldn’t have to do that. Alejandro grabbed another cloth, it seemed Bernardo had restocked while he was gone, and he dipped it in the cool water.

Carefully, Alejandro brought the cool cloth to Zorro’s collarbone, deciding to forgo touching the man’s face since the slightest touch to his mask had woken him the last time. Tiny beads of sweat had formed across Zorro’s skin, and he softly wiped them away, hoping the cool water would help break the man’s fever. He brushed the cloth over Zorro’s chest, carefully avoiding the bandages around his waist.

As he brushed the cloth over Zorro’s arms, he saw something rather incredible. Zorro also had a scar on his left wrist that Alejandro could’ve sworn looked exactly like Diego’s. He lifted Zorro’s hand, taking great care to be as careful as possible, examining the scar curiously. It was the same length, same width, seemed just as old as Diego’s.

“You know, my son has a scar just like this.” Alejandro murmured. He wasn’t quite sure why he was talking to an unconscious man, but he hoped that his voice could bring the hero some kind of comfort as he slept. “Though, I’m sure you got yours a different way, being the master swordsman that you are. You probably got yours as you honed your incredible skill. My son fell out of a tree, heh.”

A soft moan filled the air, and Zorro’s eyes fluttered open. His brown eyes were glassy and dazed, and it took them a moment to focus on Alejandro.

“Father?” Zorro murmured, his voice weak and confused.

“Shh, it’s alright, Zorro. It’s Don Alejandro.”

Zorro just whimpered again, raising his hand a little. “Father.” Alejandro just grabbed his hand and held it tightly.

“Father… I’m sorry.” Zorro whispered, staring directly into Alejandro’s eyes. Alejandro frowned in confusion, pursing his lips, feeling a little discouraged that Zorro didn’t recognize him. The fever must be distorting Zorro’s mind into thinking Alejandro was his father. “I tried… tried so hard to make you proud.”

“Shh, Zorro, it’s alright.” Alejandro squeezed the hero’s hand. “You did everything you could. Even the bravest in battle get injured. I’m sure your father is very proud of you.”

“No…” Zorro slurred, his glazed eyes drifting softly to the wall. “My father isn’t proud of me.”

“Nonsense.” Alejandro instinctively started stroking Zorro’s hair over his bandana, as Diego always liked his father petting his hair when he wasn’t feeling well. He just hoped that Zorro took comfort from it too. “You’re a great hero. A savior of our people.”

“No… my father thinks I’m a coward.” Zorro muttered. “Always so disappointed in me. I can see it in his eyes.”

Unconsciously, Alejandro’s mind flashed to Diego, that first day when he’d returned from Spain and he hadn’t wanted to take up arms against Comandante Monasterio. How heartbroken Alejandro had been when Diego hadn’t wanted to draw his sword against the corrupt captain, or even draw his sword at all. But how could anyone think that Zorro was a coward? Zorro risked his life constantly for the people of Los Angeles. No one could dare call him a coward or a disappointment! He was tempted to ask who his father was, as he had a few words to exchange with the man. Zorro had risked his own life to save Alejandro’s, how could anyone ever say that he was a coward or a disappointment?

“Your father is wrong.” Alejandro squeezed Zorro’s hand again, his voice full of conviction, which brought Zorro’s fevered eyes back to Alejandro. “You are no coward. You are a hero to us all, Zorro, from the richest ranchero to the poorest peasant. Every day, you risk your life to save us from tyranny and injustice. If your father can’t see that, then even a blind man can see more than he can.”

Zorro’s eyes glistened as Alejandro spoke, and he saw a single tear slide down into the mask. Alejandro’s heart twisted in pain. His thumb came to Zorro’s face, softly brushing under Zorro’s eye. Zorro’s eyes fluttered closed, and Alejandro didn’t stop his ministrations until he was sure that the hero had fallen asleep once again.

Alejandro sighed softly as he gazed upon Zorro’s sleeping form. He hadn’t met the outlaw often, but he never would’ve guessed he’d had such a difficult family. He couldn’t imagine having a father who treated him so disrespectfully. Even he had gotten used to how bookish and unwilling to fight Diego had been since he got back from Spain. Truthfully, it had been hard, but Diego was his son. That meant that Alejandro loved him unconditionally, whether he was a master swordsman or a dandy. Diego was the best thing in his life, nothing could ever change that, even his son’s inability to handle a sword. But Zorro, he was a hero! He did more for the pueblo than anyone. How could anyone be disappointed in that?

Alejandro shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. As much as it hurt to hear that Zorro’s family didn’t appreciate him as they should, there was nothing he could do about that. But what he could do was do his best to help the man heal. He continued wiping the sweat away, brushing Zorro’s skin with clean cool water. He checked the bandage, and thankfully, he didn’t see anything that would indicate an infection. This fever was most likely caused by the stress of getting such an injury, Diego and his late wife had been prone to them as well, Diego especially once his mother passed.

A sudden knock on the door startled him, and he quickly composed himself, covering Zorro with Diego’s blanket and trying his best to hide his mask with a cool compress over his eyes. He then went to the door, trying his best to calm his nerves.

“Yes?” Alejandro answered, seeing one of his servants.

“I’m sorry to disturb you at this late hour, sir, but Sergeant Garcia is at the door and is urgently requesting to speak to you.”

Alejandro’s heart raced. What could Sergeant Garcia be wanting at this hour? Had something happened to Diego? Were they looking for Zorro? His stomach twisted with dread, but he kept a straight face, looking appropriately worried rather letting the terror and panic he was feeling show. He nodded simply, and then headed down to the entrance of the hacienda.

“Sergeant.” Alejandro said, fighting his every nerve to keep calm. “What brings you here this late into the night?”

“I’m so sorry to disturb you, Don Alejandro, but on our last attempt to capture Zorro, it seems he was wounded.” The Sergeant said. “ One of the swords that did battle with him came back with blood on it. So we’re searching everywhere in the pueblo for him, as he’d need help, and since we couldn’t find him in any place he’d seek a doctor, we’ve started searching all the haciendas to see if we can find him.”

“We want to make sure he’s still alive.” Corporal Reyes added.

“Babosa!” Sergeant Garcia shouted, smacking Corporal Reyes upside the head. “You’re not supposed to say that!”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said, Corporal, now be silent!” Garcia growled, and then turned and smiled bashfully at him.

Alejandro’s heart raced, his mind becoming a whirling dervish as he struggled to think of a reason he could deny them entry.

“Well, Sergeant, it is very late, perhaps you could come back tomorrow.” Alejandro said. “Most of the hacienda are already in bed, and I’d hate to wake them.”

“I’m afraid I must insist.” Sergeant Garcia said, sounding regretful. “We must check everywhere for Zorro, even this late at night. N-Not that I suspect you, Don Alejandro, but the Comandante would be very upset if I didn’t search everywhere, including your hacienda. But we’ll try to be quiet.”

Alejandro fought to keep his composure. He had to think, how could he keep them from discovering Zorro? There was no way to sneak him out without the soldiers noticing!

“Well, if you must, but I must ask you that you do not go into Diego’s room.” Alejandro said, hoping this excuse was enough to deter them. He didn’t have the time to think of another. “I’m afraid my son is sick, and cannot be disturbed. A-and I wouldn’t want you catching what he has.”

Sergeant Garcia looked surprised. “Diego is feeling unwell? Oh I’m very sorry to hear that. I was wondering why he hadn’t met me for lunch yesterday as we’d agreed. It’s not like him to miss our lunches together.”

Wait, Diego had made plans and then not kept them? Sergeant Garcia was right, that wasn’t like Diego. That wasn’t like his son at all. He almost asked when the last time the Sergeant had seen his son, but he stopped himself as he realized that he couldn’t. He was pretending Zorro was Diego. The Sergeant would find it very odd that Alejandro needed to look for Diego when supposedly he was lying sick in bed. He would send Diego’s manservant out tomorrow at dawn, and see if the deaf-mute could find his son. Bernardo knew Diego best since he returned from Spain, perhaps he’d be able to find Diego.

“Yes, he has a fever.” Alejandro said, trying to hide his worry for his missing son. “He’s asleep at the moment, and the noise of someone searching his room will most definitely wake him.”

“I do apologize, Don Alejandro, but I must search every room.” Sergeant Garcia said. “But I’ll check his room myself and just peek in there to make sure I don’t wake him.”

“I appreciate your understanding, Sergeant.” Alejandro said, a vice grip squeezing at his chest. The only thing he could hope for now was that the Sergeant wouldn’t recognize Zorro on sight.

With his heart pounding out of his chest, he followed Sergeant Garcia up the stairs while the other soldiers began to search the hacienda. He swallowed nervously as they went up the stairs, using every faculty he had to keep himself acting calm, even if he wasn’t inside. Quietly, Sergeant Garcia opened the door. The soldier peeked through the door, and Alejandro was so anxious about him finding Zorro that he could barely breathe.

Miraculously, Sergeant Garcia closed the door after just a moment. “I apologize for disturbing him, Don Alejandro. It’s obvious Zorro is not in there. Please let me know when he feels better, I would like to come by and see him.”

Don Alejandro smiled, and he actually meant it this time, knowing that Zorro was safe. “Of course, Sergeant. When he feels up to seeing visitors, I’ll send for you.”

Sergeant Garcia nodded happily, smiling broadly at him.

After that, Alejandro could act as he usually did around the soldiers, chatting with them as if nothing was wrong. He knew nothing else in the hacienda would give away that Zorro was here, so there was no chance of them finding Zorro here. Internally, he worried about Diego. What could’ve happened to his son to keep him away from home for so long? To miss plans that he’d made. Diego was not one to go back on his word. Alejandro had taught him the importance of integrity from a very young age. Where on earth could his son be?!

Alejandro wasn’t sure how long the soldiers spent looking for Zorro, but it was still a relief seeing them leave, Sergeant Garcia again apologizing for the disturbance as the rest complained to the Sergeant that they wanted to stop and go home so they could sleep. He bid them adios before returning to Diego’s room. There was nothing he could do about Diego since it was late in the night, and there was only moonlight and starlight to search for him. But the moment the sun rose, Alejandro would start looking for his son.

The moment Alejandro stepped through the door, he could tell something was wrong. Zorro was thrashing a little, having kicked off the blanket which was now tangled between his feet, with the cool compress laying on the pillow beside him. He was murmuring nonsense in his sleep, but it was clear that he was in distress. After locking the door, Alejandro rushed to Zorro’s side.

“Shh, Zorro, you’re alright, you’re alright.” Alejandro said, trying his best to sound soothing.

“No, no please,” Zorro whimpered, still lost in the throes of a nightmare.

“Zorro, wake up, you’re having a nightmare, you’re safe here.” Alejandro gently cupped Zorro’s cheek, hoping the touch to his face would wake him.

But Zorro kept thrashing, his head moving from side to side, his face twisted in fright. Alejandro tried again to wake him before suddenly going still, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Zorro’s thrashing had dislodged his mask, revealing part of his face. Even though he was asleep, Alejandro still recognized the face of his son.

Diego… Diego was Zorro??? His bookish, pacifist son was the hero of the pueblo who fought with the strength of ten men? Impossible. Yet here he was, staring at his son as he thrashed from a nightmare, clearly Zorro under the mask. Surely, it must be a dream, but he was wide awake, and this was no dream.

Alejandro then acted on impulse, his paternal instincts screaming at him to comfort his son. He took Zorro- Diego by the shoulders and brought him up to Alejandro’s chest, his arms wrapping around his suffering son’s body in a fierce hug, holding Diego close to him. He slowly began to rock back and forth, just as he’d done when Diego was a small child.

“Shh, Diego, it’s alright, Father’s here, you’re safe, shh, you’re safe.” He whispered, keeping one hand on Diego’s head, keeping him pressed against his chest. He knew his son, he knew what would comfort him. It had always worked when he was a child, he saw no reason it wouldn’t work now that he was an adult.

Just as he thought it would, Diego’s murmurs of fright softened as his father held him, whispering comforts as he slowly rocked back and forth. When Diego’s mother was alive, Alejandro would often find a sleeping Diego in his late wife’s arms as she sat in her rocking chair. He knew that the feeling comforted Diego, especially after his mother passed. So he just kept rocking back and forth, holding his son tightly until Diego’s cries quieted down. But even though the nightmare seemed to have passed, Alejandro didn’t let go of his son.

Carefully shifting Diego’s weight so he could hold his son with one hand, he gently pulled off the mask of Zorro. He figured, since he’d already found out it was Diego, he wasn’t breaking his word to not unmask Zorro. Gently dropping the mask and bandana onto the bed, he tilted Diego’s head up a little. Alejandro had burned his son’s face into his memory when he’d come home from Spain, having missed him so much. And here he was, in his arms, sleeping peacefully now.

How could he have missed this? How could he have not seen that his own son was Zorro? Obviously, Diego had gone to great lengths to hide his identity from his father, as well as the rest of the pueblo, but Diego was his son. Alejandro should’ve been able to tell. Now that he knew, the clues were rather apparent. No one had ever seen Diego and Zorro in the same room at the same time, Diego was never around whenever Zorro appeared, the fact that Diego was constantly being accused of being Zorro (even though previously it seemed so evident that he wasn’t), Diego’s sudden evasiveness over his feelings, how Zorro sounded so much like Diego especially when he was in pain, the scar on his wrist… it all made sense now.

“I fail to see what we can do.”

“We can stand up to him, fight him!”

“Calm yourself, Father. The use of force should be our last resort.”

“I hardly expected such discretion from a son of mine!”

Diego hadn’t been a coward in the face of Comandante Monastario, he just made Alejandro believe that. He’d seen the hurt in Diego’s eyes when Alejandro had been so vocal about his obvious disappointment when Diego had refused to take a stand against Monastario, but he’d been more concerned about his son becoming a coward after he left for college rather than comforting his son. It must have been very painful for Diego to let him think such low things of his own son.

“I’m sorry. I tried… tried so hard to make you proud… My father isn’t proud of me. My father thinks I’m a coward. Always so disappointed in me. I can see it in his eyes.”

The only time words had caused Alejandro to feel such pain was when the doctor had told him that his wonderful wife was dying. Never before had Alejandro felt such a sickening regret in his chest that consumed him so entirely. Diego, his incredible, precious son thought that he was a disappointment. That Alejandro considered him a coward. Admittedly, Alejandro hadn’t been very good at telling his son how proud he was of him when Diego constantly ran from a fight, not understanding how his amazing son could’ve become such a coward in a few short years. But… he understood now. Diego never ran from a fight, he just became Zorro to fight that fight.

“It is strange. So strange. It is almost as if I had known you. You seem so much like someone I know. I'm a foolish old man with foolish dreams. So often have I dreamed that my son came back from Spain and he would be like you. Now that you're so close, it is so much like my dreams. I feel almost that I could pull aside the mask, and there would be the face of my son, Diego. I would not pull away the mask. I would not have the courage. An old man must cling to his dreams as desperately as he clings to life.”

Alejandro startled at seeing tears run down Diego’s cheeks as he slept, but he soon realized that the tears were coming from him, dripping down from his face onto Diego. He tucked Diego’s head into his shoulder again, kissing his hair.

“Oh, mijo. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He held his son all night, unwilling to let him go. His only consolation was at least now he didn’t have to worry about where Diego was. His precious son was right here in his arms, where he should be when he was… wounded. It was the smallest of silver linings that he hadn’t known that this was his son when struggling to treat his wound. He felt nauseous just thinking of his son being so grievously injured, especially when all his son was trying to do was help people.

Dawn’s early light surprised him, as he was so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed that several hours had passed. Diego was still overly warm in his arms, but he seemed to be resting quietly.

A set of three knocks in a row startled him enough that he nearly dropped his son. There was a pause, and another three knocks. Alejandro’s shoulders slumped when he realized it was just Bernardo. He leaned forward, cradling his son’s head with the utmost reverence as he laid Diego back down. He got up to let Bernardo in before he hastily remembered to put on Diego’s Zorro disguise. He wasn’t sure if Bernardo knew, but if he didn’t, he wouldn’t reveal his son’s secret.

Alejandro then let Bernardo in, and the man immediately rushed to Diego’s side. Bernardo’s hand came to Diego’s forehead, his cheeks, checking on his fever. Diego didn’t stir at the touch, and now Alejandro knew what that meant. Even as Zorro, Diego recognized the touch of his friend. He wondered if that meant that Bernardo knew too.

Diego murmured nonsense in his sleep again, and Alejandro sat beside his son, stroking his hair over the bandana. “Shh, Diego, it’s alright, you’re alright. Sleep my son, shh.”

His son calmed, soothed by Alejandro’s voice. Alejandro just stared at his son for a moment, taking in his peaceful expression before he noticed that Bernardo was looking at him in panic. At first it confused him, before he realized that somehow Bernardo must have understood that he knew now that Diego was Zorro.

“You knew?” Alejandro said, his voice incredulous before it turned to anger. “You knew this whole time?”

Bernardo struggled again with nonsensical movements before he just nodded.

“You knew and you didn’t tell me?” Alejandro demanded. “I’m his father!”

Bernardo then pointed to Diego and pressed a finger to his lips, showing that Diego had asked him not to tell.

Alejandro groaned and ran a hand over his face. Then he stopped.

“Wait, you can hear?” Alejandro exclaimed. “You could hear the whole time too?”

Bernardo nodded again.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Alejandro asked. “Why deceive everyone in such a way?”

Bernardo pointed at Diego again, and then he covered his ear. He then mimed walking again, and used his hands to mime talking. Then he placed his hand behind his ear to mime the word listen. Then he placed his hand over his mouth as if he was whispering and pointed to Diego.

“Diego wanted you to pretend to be deaf so you could overhear others’ conversations and what, report back to him?”

Bernardo gave him a hand wave to indicate perhaps a maybe, and pointed at himself. “You wanted to do that?” Bernardo nodded again. “Why?”

He placed his hand behind his ear again, and then mimed running and then whispering to Diego again. He made a ‘Z’ sign, and then pointed to Diego, and then mimed a shield.

“So… you could overhear things that would indicate that Zorro needed protection?” Alejandro asked.

Bernardo nodded happily.

Alejandro sighed. “At least Diego trusted someone to help him.”

Bernardo frowned and patted his shoulder in what seemed to be a gesture of comfort.

“So Diego has been Zorro this entire time.” Alejandro sighed again before a terrible thought entered his mind. “Even… even when we drew swords against each other.”

He remembered dueling Zorro when he and the other landowners tried to rush the cuartel to free the unjustly imprisoned Torres’ women. He’d noticed back then that Zorro had seemed very reluctant to draw his sword against them, a sadness in his eyes that he hadn’t understood in his anger. And all the time, it was Diego. Diego forced to fight his own father. Even if Alejandro’s intentions were good, his actions had still led him to fight his own son. Poor Diego. Diego had never hidden how much he loved his father, even if he hadn’t told Alejandro his secret.

Bernardo nodded at his statement, pointed at Diego, and then mimed an obvious frown, telling him that Diego had been very upset at having to do that. He could tell the man wasn’t trying to make him feel bad, just trying to tell him that Diego had been just as upset as he was right now, that Diego hadn’t wanted to fight him, but that brought him no comfort. He couldn’t imagine the strength of will Diego must have had to make himself fight his own father on his quest for justice. He doubted he’d have been strong enough to be able to draw his sword against his son.

“We need to take off his mask.” Alejandro said, reaching over. Bernardo grabbed his wrist, shaking his head and waving his finger in a no gesture.

“I’m not doing this because I know now.” Alejandro said. “Last night, while you and most of the hacienda were asleep, the soldiers came here.” Bernardo’s eyes went wide with fear. “Don’t worry, I was able to convince them that Diego was ill to hide Zorro’s presence, but now people expect Diego to be ill. And… I suppose he really is. But if we cover the bandages with a blanket, and hide his mask, then no one will be able to tell that Diego is Zorro. We could let him rest without worry of someone discovering him.”

Alejandro could tell that Bernardo was still uncertain about his plan, but after a moment, he did let go. Alejandro tenderly reached over and slipped Diego’s bandana off, and then very carefully, his mask. Without his Zorro disguise, Diego looked so young, like the boy who he’d sent to university those few years ago. Alejandro softly stroked his son’s cheek, unable to tear his eyes away for a moment. His poor son. Having to shoulder all of that responsibility, all of that pressure to protect the pueblo and distribute justice all alone, unable to confide in his own father. He didn’t know how Diego did it.

They lapsed into silence for a while as Diego slept beside them. Bernardo placed another cool cloth on Diego’s forehead, and Alejandro just sat, brushing another cool cloth over his son’s skin. At least, now that he knew it was Diego, he knew how to help his son. Whenever Diego had gotten stress fevers before, when he was a child, Alejandro just had to give him water, and keep him cool. When they checked his wound as they changed his bandages, the wound showed no sign of infection. Alejandro was nauseous at the sight of seeing his son’s body torn up and stitched together, but he had to be strong for his son. If Diego could fight under his mask as Zorro, then Alejandro could take care of him as his father. When Diego was born, he’d promised to always take care of his son, and he wouldn’t let him down now.

Dusk was settling gently in the west when Diego stirred again. To Alejandro’s immense relief, and when Diego opened his eyes the glaze of fever was gone. He smiled softly at his son.

Soon, fear entered his son’s eyes, and his hand came to his face, obviously searching for his mask. “Father, what… why did you…”

“Last night, you were thrashing in your sleep.” Alejandro explained, his voice saddened by his son’s fear and confusion. As much as he was grateful that he knew, he would’ve wanted his son to tell him of his own free will, and he knew Diego would’ve wanted that too. “It disturbed your mask, and well… I could recognize your face from the other side of the pueblo.”

Diego just stared at him, with his fingers still under his eye. Bernardo then took his hand, and Diego startled a little, having been so distracted with Alejandro’s presence that he didn’t notice his friend. Bernardo smiled a little, but Diego didn’t seem to react to it.

“I am sorry, my son.” Alejandro said, and he knew his son could sense his sincerity. “I know this isn’t how you wanted this to happen.”

Diego slowly brought his hand back down, and he suddenly couldn’t meet his father’s eye. “Are you upset with me? For not telling you?”

“Of course not, mijo.” Alejandro stroked Diego’s hair as he did when he was a child. “I could never be upset with you because you decided to keep a secret. Even one so big as this.”

Diego met his eyes once more. It hurt Alejandro’s heart to see shame in his son’s brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, Father.” Diego murmured. “I didn’t mean to lie to you for so long. I hated doing it.”

“It’s alright, Diego.” Alejandro smiled down at his son. “I can understand why you did it.”

Diego tried for a smile but it didn’t quite make his eyes. He shifted a little, seemingly uncomfortable, and then he winced, frowning in confusion. “What…?”

“Diego, what’s the last thing you remember?” Alejandro asked quietly, as it seemed like Diego didn’t know what had happened to him.

His son paused, his brow furrowing a little. “Riding Tornado. We’d just gotten away from Ramon, the last man I fought. He was trying to smuggle weapons into the pueblo. I… I remember my side hurting, and I didn’t know why. After that, it’s a bit of a blur.”

Alejandro hummed slightly, nodding. That lined up with the timeline that Alejandro had been able to figure out from what little information he had.

“What happened?” Diego asked. “How did you find me?”

“Your horse, actually, he’s incredibly intelligent.” Alejandro explained. “You must have fallen out of the saddle as you rode, and your Tornado went looking for help. He found me and brought me back to you. I found you lying in the dirt with your side sliced open. I brought you home, and since Diego de la Vega wasn’t in his room, I thought we could use it as a place to keep Zorro safe. Bernardo and I took care of you from there.”

“Oh.” Diego said softly, his hand coming to his right side. “I wondered what hurt so much.”

“I can send someone into town for laudanum tomorrow.” Alejandro said. “I couldn’t risk it when you were Zorro, but since the soldiers now think that Diego de la Vega isn’t feeling well, we can ask for it without repercussions.”

“The soldiers?” Diego asked, becoming afraid. “Why were the soldiers here? Is everything alright?”

Alejandro explained how the soldiers had come looking for him and left easily enough, thinking that a sleeping Zorro was a sleeping Diego. That calmed Diego visibly.

“Thank goodness.” Diego murmured. “I never wanted to put anyone in danger.”

Alejandro cupped Diego’s jawline, brushing his thumb over his cheek.

“Bernardo,” Alejandro muttered softly, and the man turned to him. “Can you give me and my son a moment alone?”

Bernardo looked to Diego, who nodded. Alejandro wasn’t sure of what had happened to make Bernardo so loyal to Diego, but he was glad his son had someone who would always stand by his side. It was clear Bernardo didn’t want to go, but he still listened to Diego, and he stood. He mimed getting Diego some water and food, and Diego smiled gratefully.

“That would be nice, Bernardo, thank you.”

Bernardo smiled at his son, and then he slipped out of the room. Now that he and Diego were alone, Alejandro sighed heavily.

“Why didn’t you tell me, mijo?” Alejandro murmured, asking the question that had been burning within him since he found out. “You know I wouldn’t have told anyone. You didn’t have to make me think that you had changed so much since I sent you to Spain.”

“Because I knew being Zorro would put you in danger, and I couldn’t risk that.” Diego whispered, his voice tinted with shyness and shame. “I knew I had to become someone I’m not to fight Comandante Monastario, I had to become someone he would never suspect. A scholar who couldn’t wield a sword couldn’t possibly be Zorro, and it worked. I knew if we took open action as you wanted to do, your life would be in danger. And I had to protect you.”

“You’re my son, Diego, you’re not responsible for protecting me. “ Alejandro said. “I’m responsible for protecting you. I swore to your mother that I would protect you until the end of my days and I will keep that promise. Even if it means dying for you.”

��I couldn’t risk that.” Diego said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. Seeing you get shot was one of the worst days of my life. I’ve never been so scared, not even when I’m fighting the whole of the cuartel at once. I couldn’t knowingly put you in danger, and being Zorro is nothing but danger. I could choose to risk my own life, but I could never ask you to risk yours. I had to protect you, Father, even if it meant lying to you about who I was. I’d rather be a disappointment in your eyes than the reason you were killed.”

“Oh, mijo.” Alejandro sighed, stroking his son’s cheek. “You could never be a disappointment to me. You’re my son, I will always be proud of you. Yes, it was difficult to understand why you wouldn’t fight alongside me, why you suddenly had become so interested in books and music when you hadn’t been before. But that never meant that I thought of you as a disappointment.”

“Father-”

“Diego.” Alejandro said firmly. “Whether you’re a scholar and a diplomat or a dueler and an outlaw, I will always be proud of you. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that. You’re my son, I love you more than life itself.”

Diego smiled again, and this time, he could see it in Diego’s eyes. “I love you too, Father.”

Alejandro smiled in return. This was probably the most honest talk they’d had since Diego returned from Spain, and he was glad that his son could finally be honest with him.

Diego huffed quietly, slightly smirking. “I will say, I’m not looking forward to the worry and fretting you’re going to do whenever I go out at night.”

“I see no reason to do that.” Alejandro laughed, seeing Diego’s attempt at humor for what it was, but going with it anyways. Diego looked surprised at his answer. “You’ve bested me in a duel, my son. Not to mention you constantly fight the curatel and always escape unharmed. You… do escape unharmed every time, right?”

“Yes, Father.” Diego nodded, soothing Alejandro’s worry. “This is the first time I’ve ever gotten seriously hurt being Zorro. Usually, I’m very good at avoiding it.”

“Then I have no need to be worried.” Alejandro said. “I trust in your skills.”

Diego smiled. “Thank you, Father. I’m glad Zorro is skilled enough to earn your trust.”

“I did wonder what happened to your skills when you came back.” Alejandro mused. “When you left, I was sure you’d become the best swordsman in California before age thirty. But I suppose I wasn’t wrong, I just thought it would be under the name de la Vega.”

Diego chuckled. “So did I. I wish I could’ve shown you the medals and trophies I won back in Spain for fencing. You would’ve been so proud.”

“Medals and trophies?” Alejandro asked, confused. This was the first time Diego had ever mentioned anything of the sort since he came back.

“Yes.” Diego nodded. “I won several. I was one of the best swordsmen at university.”

“Where are they? Did you hide them?”

“Yes… at the bottom of the ocean.” Diego said wistfully. “I was warned our bags would be searched when we arrived in Los Angeles, so in order to keep up the illusion that I was completely inept with a sword, I had Bernardo throw them out the port window.”

“That’s a shame.” Alejandro said. “I would’ve liked to have seen them. And shown them off.”

“I can always go swimming the next time I go to the coast.” Diego smirked, and they both laughed together. A somewhat heavy tension between them dissolved softly into nonexistence.

Bernardo soon returned with some soup and a glass of water for Diego. His son went to sit up, before he immediately fell back into the pillows, whimpering in pain and clutching his right side.

“Easy, son.” Alejandro soothed, helping Diego adjust, sliding behind him so he could keep Diego up, maneuvering him into a sitting position. “You’re not ready for that yet. Just let us help you.”

“I don’t seem to have a choice in that.” Diego muttered, and Alejandro could hear the slight bitterness in Diego’s voice. His son had always been independent, and Alejandro knew how difficult it was for him to accept help sometimes.

“The more you rest, the faster you’ll heal.” Alejandro murmured. “I can certainly attest to that.”

Diego huffed quietly, still obviously upset at his situation, but he didn’t protest further. Bernardo could also clearly sense Diego’s desire to not be dependent on them, as he fed Diego as quickly as he could without making him sick so Diego wouldn’t have to deal with being so weak for longer than he had to. Alejandro could tell his son’s strength was waning as he finished, and when Diego was finished, he gently moved so Diego was resting against the pillows again. It took a moment for Diego to adjust and get comfortable again, but his eyes were half-lidded by the time he was done, clearly exhausted.

“Sleep, my son.” Alejandro whispered. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

It was barely a few minutes between Diego nodding softly and Diego’s breathing evening out as he slipped back into sleep. Alejandro stayed with him the entire night, promising himself that he’d watch over Diego until his son was fully healed and riding for justice again.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Caring for You [Even When You Don't Want It]

When Izuku and Kacchan are fighting a villain, Kacchan gets hurt. As horrible as that is, Izuku is a little glad he can finally take care of Kacchan the way he's always wanted to.

Getting paired up with Kacchan on disaster assistance was the highlight of his week. He didn’t like that there had been an earthquake near Musutafu, and he hated seeing all the people in peril who needed help, but Aizawa-sensei assigning him and Kacchan together was definitely a silver lining that he could appreciate. Any time he could spend with Kacchan was time well spent. Sure, Kacchan had loudly protested, and only conceded when Aizawa-sensei hadn’t allowed him to switch as he said that they’d been paired up for a reason, but that didn’t matter. He was pretty sure that Kacchan would’ve complained no matter who he was paired up with. He had always been so independent. It was one of the many reasons Izuki loved him. A-as a friend. Yes, definitely as a friend, and not anything else. Totally.

“You better fucking keep up with me, nerd, or I’m gonna leave your ass in the dust.” Kacchan growled as they started to run to their assigned area.

“Don’t worry about me, Kacchan, I’ll stay right by your side.” Izuku said with a bright smile.

Kacchan just glared at him. “There is nothing in this world that could make me worry about you, Deku.”

Izuku’s smile didn’t falter. He’d known Kacchan long enough to know when he was speaking seriously, and when he wasn’t. As serious as Kacchan was, he often spoke in hyperbole, always had ever since they were little.

They spent the first few minutes looking for any injured people in their area, they��d been given orders to clear three blocks of any civilians and/or get anyone injured to medical attention. The sound of smashing glass then caught their attention.

“The hell was that?” Kacchan muttered.

“It wasn’t an aftershock, we’d feel the ground shaking if it was, so it can’t be the result of anything having to do with the earthquake.” Izuku murmured.

“I know what the fuck it isn’t, Deku, we need to find out what it is, you idiot!” Kacchan snapped at him. Izuku didn’t take it personally, he knew Kacchan was really stressed about this. As much as he liked to portray that his only reason for becoming a hero was to be the best, to be even better than All Might, Izuku still knew that deep down Kacchan wanted to save people too. It was a part of who he was, even if it didn’t seem like it all the time.

Izuku’s eyes searched, and landed on a man climbing through a clearly broken window into what appeared to be a jewelry store. “There!”

Without waiting for him or anything else, Kacchan started running straight towards the man.

“Wait, Kacchan, no, we need a plan of attack!” Izuku said, tearing off after him anyways.

“I have a plan. Attack.” Kacchan growled back as he leapt through the broken window.

Izuku felt the familiar rush of power that accompanied activating One-for-All, his body beginning to crackle slightly with green lightning. He followed Kacchan inside the store to see the man he’d seen stuffing the necklaces into his jacket. Clearly, this was a crime of opportunity, and Izuku hated seeing people take advantage of others’ distress.

“Hands up, you dumb bastard!” Kacchan shouted, his hands already sparking off.

The man turned, obviously startled by their presence, as he’d most likely been expecting the heroes to focus on where the damage was rather than the side streets they’d been assigned.

“What the? Who the hell are you brats?”

“Dynamight and Deku, fuckwad!” Kacchan shouted back. Izuku’s heart secretly fluttered just a little as he heard his and Kacchan’s hero names sounding so wonderful together, especially in Kacchan’s gorgeous voice.

“We’re gonna take you down!” Izuku yelled.

“The hell you will!” The man shouted, and he extended his arm towards them.

The man’s quirk was easily revealed as spikes of all lengths started to shoot out of the man’s wrist. Almost seamlessly, they instinctively began to work together, just as they had done during the final exam, proving that they truly were two sides of the same coin. Izuku tried firing his snap wind attacks, trying to catch the man off balance, while Kacchan expertly put him on the defense to keep backing him into the wall. Together they flew, moving as one unit, when Kacchan dodged, Izuku fired his air pressure snaps, and when Izuku dove underneath a display case to shield himself, Kacchan got in close, trying to blow the man up. As much as Kacchan didn’t like working with him, it was easy to see that they did work ridiculously well together. While Izuku never lost focus on the man in front of him, he couldn’t help but stare a little at Kacchan as he moved in tandem with Izuku. Kacchan was a warrior, yet also a dancer who moved with beauty and grace, and Izuku loved being here to watch him move so expertly.

Suddenly, the world seemed to slow down as Kacchan jumped into the air, his arm outstretched, his hand ready to pull the pin out of his grenade. As he saw Kacchan move, Izuku saw a small spike protruding from the underside of Kacchan’s right gauntlet that Kacchan couldn’t see. Immediately, he started to reach for Kacchan, to scream at him to stop. But before Izuku could even get his voice to work, Kacchan had already pulled the pin.

BOOM!

A blast of hot air hit him in the chest and threw him off his feet. He flew through the air for a moment before he crashed into something hard behind him, his vision going spotty as he slid down to the ground. He wanted to get up, he wanted to run to Kacchan, but instead his eyes just closed and he passed out.

His ears rang painfully as Izuku managed to open his eyes. He groaned lightly without being able to hear it as his blurred vision tried to justify itself. Izuku wasn’t sure how long it took before his mind finally got the cobwebs out and he came back to himself. Everything about him hurt, and he could feel what must have been over a dozen bruises all over his body, but he’d had worse, so he forced himself up. He leaned against the wall to steady himself and looked around, seeing debris all around him. The jewelry store… the building must have come down around them from the force of the explosion from Kacchan’s gauntlet misfiring.

Oh god, Kacchan! Forcing himself forward despite the pain, Izuku stumbled to where he’d last seen Kacchan.

“Kacchan!” Izuku coughed as he shouted for his friend, dust trying to get down his throat as he walked. “Kacchan, where are you?”

Silence.

Izuku’s heart twisted in fear when Kacchan didn’t answer. What if something had happened when Izuku was unconscious? What if Kacchan had gotten kidnapped again? What if he’d gotten killed? God, Izuku couldn’t fathom it. Kacchan was just as much a part of him as his left arm was. He couldn’t lose Kacchan, he just couldn’t.

“Kacchan! Come on, answer me!” Izuku shouted, trying to search through the debris for any sign of his friend.

His blood ran cold when he saw lots of dots of red splattered over the floor. Izuku’s mind raced as he followed the red trail, his stomach twisting with dread as horrible images of Kacchan’s broken body flashed through his head. No, please, no, god, there was so much blood…

Izuku gasped as he came upon a pair of black boots lying still on the ground, and he immediately lurched forward, moving the body they were attached to to see who it was. A few tears ran down his cheeks as he realized that these belonged to the man who had been robbing the store. He ripped his glove off and felt at the man’s throat. He sighed heavily as he didn’t feel a pulse, and he saw some of the man’s own spikes embedded in his flesh. The force of the explosion must have sent the spikes back into him. It was a tragedy, and Izuku wished it hadn’t turned out like this, but his mind quickly drifted back to Kacchan. He needed to find his friend, he couldn’t waste any time. The potential for Kacchan to be injured was just too high.

He searched through the wreckage as carefully as he could, trying to determine any load bearing debris as he worked, using his quirk to help him dislodge what rubble he could. “Kacchan, come on, please answer me! Please! Anything! Just let me know you’re alive!”

His only answer was an eerie silence that terrified him. Kacchan never went that long without making noise.

Izuku’s heart pounded with fear in his chest, a vice twisting around his chest in the same way he’d felt that night at the training camp. “Please, Kacchan, please say something, don’t be gone, please let me find you, please!”

When he finally saw a glimpse of a green glove, he shrieked “Kacchan!”, and Izuku felt his instincts scream at him to get to Kacchan. His hands started shaking as he removed the rubble that was caging Kacchan in, and finally, after lifting a chunk of debris that must have been almost as big as Izuku himself, he finally saw the crumpled form of his dear friend. “Oh god, no, Kacchan!”

Kacchan lay upon a giant piece of rubble, slightly curled on his right side, lying in a pool of blood. Izuku immediately reached for Kacchan’s throat, and a shuddered sigh passed his lips as he felt a weak but steady pulse beating against his fingers. Izuku forced himself to calm down so he could properly triage Kacchan. Right now, his friend needed calm, and he needed support, and right now, Izuku was the only one who could give him that. Focus, Izuku, focus.

Izuku’s eyes were immediately drawn to Kacchan’s right arm, his silky skin embedded with horrible shrapnel. His right arm was soaked in blood, and took top priority. A quick glance showed that this was the most serious of the many wounds on Kacchan’s body, so he just slipped his hands underneath Kacchan’s chest and knees. He’d carry Kacchan to safety if it killed him.

A soft moan followed, and he realized that the movement must have woken Kacchan.

“Wha… de-deku?”

“Shh, you’re alright.” Izuku whispered, taking a moment to softly stroke Kacchan’s golden hair. Kacchan usually never let him get close enough to touch him, and he knew that Kacchan liked it even if he wouldn’t admit it. He’d seen Kirishima do it last week when Kacchan had a headache, and he’d seen that small smile on Kacchan’s face, even if he probably wasn’t meant to. Sure, Kacchan probably didn’t know that Izuku had been watching him, but he’d seen that Kacchan was clearly in pain, so he just wanted to check on his friend. It was nothing more, really. “Don’t move, Kacchan, I’ve got you.”

“What… happened?” Kacchan groaned, coughing a little. Probably from the dust, just as Izuku had.

“Your gauntlet misfired.” Izuku said simply. “You got hurt.”

Kacchan just made a pained noise in response.

“Shh, Kacchan, it’s alright, I’m going to take care of you.” Izuku said. He’d always wanted to do this, to be able to be close enough to take care of Kacchan, but he’d never been allowed before. “I’m going to get you to safety.”

Kacchan weakly shoved at him with his left arm. “I don’t need you, Deku.” Kacchan then tried to move and push himself up, but he didn’t even get off the ground before he shrieked in pain and collapsed again.

Izuku didn’t say anything for a moment. Kacchan glared at him. He tried again, trying to get up himself, but Kacchan just collapsed with another agonizing shout. It hurt Izuku’s heart to hear Kacchan’s beautiful voice exude such agony, but he knew his Kacchan. He had to try it himself before he let anyone even think about helping. As much as Izuku loved how independent Kacchan could be, sometimes, it was really frustrating to watch as Kacchan put himself through agony to prove a point Izuku already knew.

This time, Kacchan stayed down, panting heavily. Izuku knew that Kacchan would never verbally ask for help, especially not from him, but he knew that Kacchan not trying to stand again was his way of saying that he needed Izuku’s help. Izuku knew him better than anyone, he understood what Kacchan’s nonverbal behaviors meant, even if Kacchan himself didn’t know. Honestly, though, Kacchan had no choice but to accept Izuku’s help. He couldn’t even stand on his own. Izuku’d always wanted Kacchan to want him, to want him around, to want Izuku to take care of him, and he secretly hoped that maybe this would finally show to Kacchan that Izuku was the person who he would want when he was in trouble, when he needed someone to help him.

Gently, Izuku reached out and again stroked Kacchan’s satiny golden hair in an effort to be soothing. Kacchan swatted his hand away, but he could sense Kacchan’s strength waning. “Don’t… don’t touch me… Deku.”

“Kacchan, you’re badly hurt, and right now, I’m all you’ve got.” Izuku said, getting a little frustrated that Kacchan was acting like this even when he was so hurt. “I’m going to take care of you whether you like it or not.”

Kacchan just glared at him, but he could see the pain Kacchan was trying to keep hidden. Kacchan was so silly sometimes, trying to hide something that Izuku could so clearly see. But he knew that Kacchan had a really hard time being vulnerable, especially in front of Izuku, so he didn’t call Kacchan out on it. After all, it would just lead to another argument.

“I know you don’t like being touched, Kacchan, but you’re really hurt, and I need to do this.” Izuku said softly but firmly, and he resumed his position of grabbing Kacchan under his knees and chest. He started to lift, but he froze when Kacchan shrieked loudly in his ear.

“Wha- Kacchan, what’s wrong?” Izuku asked frantically. Kacchan would never scream like that unless he couldn’t hold it back.

“Right… side.” Kacchan gasped quietly, pain evident in every syllable. “Something… shifted.”

Izuku immediately set Kacchan back down, and rolled Kacchan over a bit, making Kacchan make a soft whimpering sound in the back of his throat. Izuku gasped as he saw what Kacchan must have felt. It had been hidden by Kacchan’s first position, but there was a metal rod sticking into Kacchan’s body, right above his hip. That must have been why there was so much pooled blood. Ohh, not good, not good. He set Kacchan back down, causing another gasp of pain.

“Kacchan, you’ve- there’s a steel rod, it’s stabbed into you.” Izuku explained, trying to keep panic out of his voice. Kacchan met his eyes, and he saw a fear in Kacchan’s beautiful crimson eyes that he hadn’t seen in a long time. They both knew that if the rod was displaced before they reached medical assistance that Kacchan would bleed out. And Izuku wasn’t willing to risk trying to break the rod, because the probability of making the wound worse was too high. Which meant that Izuku couldn’t carry Kacchan to safety without the potential of killing him.

Oh, god.

Okay, focus, Izuku, Kacchan’s terrified and he needs you. You’re the only one who can help him right now. Just like a dark part of him secretly wanted, though he always pushed that part of him down as far as it could go.

“Okay, I need to stop the bleeding on your arm.” Izuku thought out loud, so he could let Kacchan know what he was about to do so he could prepare himself. He could hear the subtle hitches in Kacchan’s breathing, they both knew this was gonna be painful. Be strong, Izuku. For Kacchan.

“I-I’ll be right back, Kacchan.” Izuku stuttered a little, hating to leave his precious Kacchan like this, scared and in pain, but he had to do this to save his best friend. “I’m going to see if this place has a first aid kit. Just-just call me if you need me.”

Izuku felt like he was tearing his heart in half, having to leave Kacchan alone for even a second while he was hurting and scared, but he forced himself to stand up anyways. His head swam a little as he did, his own injuries screaming at him for attention, but he’d had worse so he forced himself to ignore it. His own set of bruises was nothing in comparison, his poor Kacchan was in agony and as long as Kacchan hurt, Izuku’s pain didn’t matter.

Thankfully, whoever had run this place was thinking logically, and when Izuku finally found the remnants of a register, he also found a small first aid kit tucked away along with some tape. Knowing this would be the best he got, he immediately returned to his Kacchan. He flipped open the kit, and examined its contents, looking for very specific equipment. His heart calmed a little when he found tweezers and a small spray bottle of isopropyl alcohol, the two things he needed most right now. Okay, he could do this. Kachhan would be okay. Kacchan would be okay.

First things first, Izuku found a couple of ibuprofen tablets, and popped them out of their blister packs. Before he could put these to Kachhan’s mouth, Kacchan’s left hand snatched them away from him, and he dry swallowed the pills. It wouldn’t be nearly enough to stop the pain he was in, but Izuku hoped it would help. After all, the only real reason Kacchan would’ve done that was because he was in so much pain he couldn’t wait for Izuku’s gentleness.

“Kacchan, I have to clean the blood off, pull the fragments out, and then disinfect the wounds.” Izuku said, his voice shaking a little. Kacchan glared up at him, and yet Izuku, knowing Kacchan as well as he did, could still see the fear hidden in those beautiful crimson eyes.

“Fuck, just- fucking do it already.” Kacchan muttered, pain so horribly evident in Kacchan’s gorgeous voice. “I can take it.”

That Izuku knew. After everything they’d gone through, Izuku knew just how far Kacchan could push himself. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. He took the paper first aid guide and held it up to Kacchan’s mouth. “Here, bite down on this.”

At first it looked like Kacchan wasn’t going to, but after a moment of hesitation, Kacchan slowly moved to bite down on the booklet. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was the best they had. Izuku then maneuvered himself carefully to be slightly above, slightly next to Kacchan without him needing to move so Izuku could get at Kacchan’s whole arm. Even though Kacchan made a noise of protest, Izuku gently picked up Kacchan’s arm and placed it in his lap. Izuku knew the protest was just the pain, so he didn’t pay it any heed.

Izuku then pulled off his gloves, setting them aside. The kit didn’t have any rubber gloves to replace them, but his somewhat clean hands were better than his dirty gloves touching Kacchan’s silky, torn skin. All that was in the kit that Izuku could use was those little alcohol pads so he just tore one open. He carefully brought them to Kacchan’s shoulder, and took a deep breath.

Slowly, meticulously, Izuku then swiped the little pad down Kacchan’s bicep. It didn’t do much since it was so small, but he did his best. It was mere minutes before the pad was soaked with Kacchan’s blood, so he just tossed it aside and got another. As Izuku worked, Kacchan made little noises of pain when the pad hit an open wound, tiny lacerations that were hidden by the blood so thoroughly plastered to his skin, but Izuku kept going. He had to.

“It’s gonna be alright Kacchan, shh, I know it hurts, but you’re doing so well, I’ve got you.”

It felt like hours were passing as Izuku swiped at the blood on Kacchan’s arms, the little pads easily getting overwhelmed by the amount of blood. His heart was thundering in his chest as he saw every new cut, how deep some of the fragments were embedded into Kacchan’s touchable skin. He wished he could touch Kacchan like this when he wasn’t grievously wounded. As he wiped off the blood, he counted the lacerations as he found them, cataloging where it was and approximately how long it was. He didn’t think he’d ever been so grateful for his ability to pay so intense attention to detail.

After five eternities, Izuku finally finished with Kacchan’s arm as clean as he could get it. There were still spots of dried blood, but he didn’t try getting them. He didn’t want the attempt to aggravate Kacchan’s existing cuts and add to his obvious agony.

Now for the hard part.

Izuku’s hands were shaking as he picked up the tweezers after using the last of the alcohol pads to do his best to sterilize his hands. He met Kacchan’s eyes, as if nonverbally preparing him for what was to come. Kacchan’s eyes were filled with a resignation he’d never seen before, one that made Izuku almost feel the agony Kacchan was feeling inside, and then, Kacchan nodded. Izuku took another deep breath, and nodded back, understanding.

As Izuku moved determinedly, the shakiness in his hands slowed to a stop. He couldn’t afford to have shaky hands right now. Again, he started at Kacchan’s shoulder, working his way down to his forearm. Izuku’s heart and stomach lurched as he pulled the tiny pieces of shrapnel from Kacchan’s perfect body. Kacchan couldn’t stop himself from crying out whenever Izuku found one that was resistant to his gentle pulls, and gasping when the pieces finally slid out. Izuku had to look away from Kacchan’s face, unable to take the tears streaming down his cheeks. Kacchan was hurting so bad, and while he knew this was for Kacchan’s own good, that Kacchan had given him permission, that didn’t make him feel any less terrible about the pain he was causing his poor, poor Kacchan.

“You’re doing great, Kacchan, you’re doing great.” Izuku murmured, almost unaware of the words he was saying as he was so focused on his task. “Just a few more, just a few more, you’re doing great, Kacchan, almost there, almost there.”

Izuku’s movements became repetitive, tweezing the next piece of shrapnel, pulling it out as gently as he could, putting the very end of the tweezers into his mouth, then grabbing a piece of gauze from the kit and covering the wound with it, and finally, using the tape he found to keep the gauze secured to Kacchan’s wounds. A small pile of shrapnel was forming beside them as Izuku carefully extracted the twisted metal. But as hard as he tried to keep himself focused on his only job, taking care of Kacchan, his ears couldn’t help but be tormented by Kacchan’s moans and whimpers of pain as Izuku worked. Izuku’s heart was tearing itself into pieces knowing he was the cause of Kacchan’s pain, regardless of circumstances. He just knew that Kacchan was hurting, Kacchan was scared, and that meant Izuku was hurting too.

Finally, the fourteen Izuku had originally counted was down to one, and Izuku pulled it out with a tug, tug, tug. Kacchan’s voice cracked on the last tug as the shrapnel finally came loose, and he quickly taped down the last piece of gauze.

“There we go, okay, Kacchan, that was the last one, you’re done, you’re so brave Kacchan, you’re done, you were amazing.” Izuku murmured, brushing his hand through Kacchan’s hair again. “I’ve got some bandages in my pocket, I’ll wrap your arm and then I’ll go for help okay?”

It took three heartbeats for Kacchan to nod weakly, his eyes only half open. His level of compliance terrified Izuku.

“We’re almost done, Kacchan, you just gotta stay with me, okay?” Izuku said, pulling the bandages out of his pocket. “You gotta stay awake. Just a few more minutes. Stay awake, Kacchan, come on, stay awake.”

Kacchan’s eyelids fluttered precariously.

Izuku gulped nervously. He grabbed Kacchan’s arm, and even though he’d tried to be gentle, the movement itself must have been too much for Kacchan’s loose grip on consciousness, and he watched in horror as Kacchan’s eyes closed and didn’t open again. Izuku’s fingers immediately went back to Kacchan’s throat, but when he found a weak but steady pulse that was going too fast for his liking, he took another deep breath, trying to calm down. Kacchan must have just passed out from the pain, which wasn’t ideal but it also wasn’t fatal, so he took what he got. As much as he wanted Kacchan to be giving him attention, any kind of attention, he didn’t bother trying to wake Kacchan up, thinking it would waste valuable time. The medics could do that when they were helping him once they got here.

Izuku’s fingers nimbly began to wrap Kacchan’s arm as quickly as he could without losing the efficacy. He just had to do this so the gauze would stay in place, just in case blood weakened the tape with its moisture, and then he could go run for help. Swathes of white soon covered Kacchan’s arm, Izuku making sure that the bandages were tight but not too tight, covering the gauze properly so it wouldn’t be disturbed. Class 1-A had been given basic first aid training after Aizawa-sensei had recovered from the USJ, so he just pulled up the instructions in his head and followed them. Thankfully, had just enough bandages to cover the important parts, his knot stopping just shy of Kacchan’s wrist. He put another couple pieces of tape over the bandages and then stood up.

“I’m going to go get help, Kacchan.” Izuku said, knowing that Kacchan couldn’t hear him, but he couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye. He walked out of the jewelry store, checking to see if there was anyone else. The street was just as empty as it had been before, and he went to step forward, wanting to do what he’d always wanted to do and help Kacchan.

But something stopped him. He took one more look at Kacchan, who was still lying unconscious on the ground. The dark part of his heart whispered in his head, whispered that there had been something else he’d always wanted to do… and right now he had a chance to do it. He doubted he’d ever get a chance again, at least not for years. So even though his logical mind told him to stop, his heart had him going back to Kacchan.

Izuku knelt in front of Kacchan, looking for any sign of consciousness. When there wasn’t any, calloused fingers cupped Kacchan’s cheek, brushing his thumb over Kacchan’s satin skin. Kacchan was so beautiful, even when injured. Izuku could touch Kacchan every day for the rest of their lives and he’d never get tired of it. He longed for a day when Kacchan realized that his show of independence wouldn’t be necessary for him, that Izuku understood him in a way that no one else ever could. That Izuku loved him more than his own life, that Kacchan’s happiness mattered so much to Izuku that he’d sacrifice anything just to see Kacchan smile. In the deepest, darkest part of his heart, Izuku knew that Kacchan would be with him eventually. Izuku just had to keep trying, he just had to keep getting Kacchan’s attention any way he knew how.

Izuku’s free hand brushed through Kacchan’s golden hair again, savoring the feeling as he knew he wouldn’t get the chance for a while. When sunlight streamed through the windows in the dorms, Izuku could just stare at how Kacchan’s hair glowed in the light for hours as Kacchan sleepily made himself breakfast. It was his favorite part of the mornings, why he always tried to secretly align his schedule with Kacchan’s, so he could see it every chance he could.

But Izuku’s favorite thing to stare at was Kacchan’s lips. Secretly, whenever he was alone and no one could ever catch him, he’d imagine what it felt like to be kissed by those plump, full lips. Izuku could daydream for hours just imagining Kacchan’s lips pressed against his, his hands roving over Izuku’s body, their bodies pressed so closely together. And every time he’d tell himself that he just had to be patient, that he’d convince Kacchan how good they’d be together, that he was so sure that Kacchan actually really cared about him rather than the angry mask he put on. He just had to give Kacchan time. But right now, with Kacchan unconscious and left completely alone with him, Izuku didn’t have to be patient.

There was a spark of electricity within him as soon as Izuku pressed his lips against Kacchan’s, his heart singing with the thrill of being able to kiss Kacchan. Sure, he’d prefer that Kacchan was awake and willing, but this was more than enough for now. Izuku deepened the kiss against Kacchan’s slack lips, being selfish for once in his life. Kacchan’s lips were so much better than he’d imagined, soft and luscious and addictive. Izuku could happily spend a week just like this, kissing Kacchan’s perfect lips, even giving up food and water as much as he could just to spend more time with Kacchan loving him the way that Izuku knew he would, that he did.

Izuku pulled back immediately when Kacchan stirred, making a soft moan. Izuku scanned his face for any sign of waking, but Kacchan went still after that. Even though he was unconscious, Kacchan must have felt the same spark of electricity at their kiss that Izuku did.

“I love you too, Kacchan.” Izuku breathlessly whispered. “I’m going to save you.”

With his lips still tingling, Izuku stood up again, and took off to find the first paramedic he could. He was lightheaded and a little dizzy, but he was sure it had nothing to do with his own injuries (mostly), just feeling such an intense high of having fulfilled a lifelong dream of actually kissing Kacchan. And just as he promised he would, he would save Kacchan, no matter what. He’d save him from whatever threat ever came their way, no matter how vast or how cruel.

Nothing would ever keep him from Kacchan’s side again, not even Kacchan himself.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Caring for You [Even When You Don't Want It]

When Izuku and Kacchan are fighting a villain, Kacchan gets hurt. As horrible as that is, Izuku is a little glad he can finally take care of Kacchan the way he's always wanted to.

Getting paired up with Kacchan on disaster assistance was the highlight of his week. He didn’t like that there had been an earthquake near Musutafu, and he hated seeing all the people in peril who needed help, but Aizawa-sensei assigning him and Kacchan together was definitely a silver lining that he could appreciate. Any time he could spend with Kacchan was time well spent. Sure, Kacchan had loudly protested, and only conceded when Aizawa-sensei hadn’t allowed him to switch as he said that they’d been paired up for a reason, but that didn’t matter. He was pretty sure that Kacchan would’ve complained no matter who he was paired up with. He had always been so independent. It was one of the many reasons Izuki loved him. A-as a friend. Yes, definitely as a friend, and not anything else. Totally.

“You better fucking keep up with me, nerd, or I’m gonna leave your ass in the dust.” Kacchan growled as they started to run to their assigned area.

“Don’t worry about me, Kacchan, I’ll stay right by your side.” Izuku said with a bright smile.

Kacchan just glared at him. “There is nothing in this world that could make me worry about you, Deku.”

Izuku’s smile didn’t falter. He’d known Kacchan long enough to know when he was speaking seriously, and when he wasn’t. As serious as Kacchan was, he often spoke in hyperbole, always had ever since they were little.

They spent the first few minutes looking for any injured people in their area, they’d been given orders to clear three blocks of any civilians and/or get anyone injured to medical attention. The sound of smashing glass then caught their attention.

“The hell was that?” Kacchan muttered.

“It wasn’t an aftershock, we’d feel the ground shaking if it was, so it can’t be the result of anything having to do with the earthquake.” Izuku murmured.

“I know what the fuck it isn’t, Deku, we need to find out what it is, you idiot!” Kacchan snapped at him. Izuku didn’t take it personally, he knew Kacchan was really stressed about this. As much as he liked to portray that his only reason for becoming a hero was to be the best, to be even better than All Might, Izuku still knew that deep down Kacchan wanted to save people too. It was a part of who he was, even if it didn’t seem like it all the time.

Izuku’s eyes searched, and landed on a man climbing through a clearly broken window into what appeared to be a jewelry store. “There!”

Without waiting for him or anything else, Kacchan started running straight towards the man.

“Wait, Kacchan, no, we need a plan of attack!” Izuku said, tearing off after him anyways.

“I have a plan. Attack.” Kacchan growled back as he leapt through the broken window.

Izuku felt the familiar rush of power that accompanied activating One-for-All, his body beginning to crackle slightly with green lightning. He followed Kacchan inside the store to see the man he’d seen stuffing the necklaces into his jacket. Clearly, this was a crime of opportunity, and Izuku hated seeing people take advantage of others’ distress.

“Hands up, you dumb bastard!” Kacchan shouted, his hands already sparking off.

The man turned, obviously startled by their presence, as he’d most likely been expecting the heroes to focus on where the damage was rather than the side streets they’d been assigned.

“What the? Who the hell are you brats?”

“Dynamight and Deku, fuckwad!” Kacchan shouted back. Izuku’s heart secretly fluttered just a little as he heard his and Kacchan’s hero names sounding so wonderful together, especially in Kacchan’s gorgeous voice.

“We’re gonna take you down!” Izuku yelled.

“The hell you will!” The man shouted, and he extended his arm towards them.

The man’s quirk was easily revealed as spikes of all lengths started to shoot out of the man’s wrist. Almost seamlessly, they instinctively began to work together, just as they had done during the final exam, proving that they truly were two sides of the same coin. Izuku tried firing his snap wind attacks, trying to catch the man off balance, while Kacchan expertly put him on the defense to keep backing him into the wall. Together they flew, moving as one unit, when Kacchan dodged, Izuku fired his air pressure snaps, and when Izuku dove underneath a display case to shield himself, Kacchan got in close, trying to blow the man up. As much as Kacchan didn’t like working with him, it was easy to see that they did work ridiculously well together. While Izuku never lost focus on the man in front of him, he couldn’t help but stare a little at Kacchan as he moved in tandem with Izuku. Kacchan was a warrior, yet also a dancer who moved with beauty and grace, and Izuku loved being here to watch him move so expertly.

Suddenly, the world seemed to slow down as Kacchan jumped into the air, his arm outstretched, his hand ready to pull the pin out of his grenade. As he saw Kacchan move, Izuku saw a small spike protruding from the underside of Kacchan’s right gauntlet that Kacchan couldn’t see. Immediately, he started to reach for Kacchan, to scream at him to stop. But before Izuku could even get his voice to work, Kacchan had already pulled the pin.

BOOM!

A blast of hot air hit him in the chest and threw him off his feet. He flew through the air for a moment before he crashed into something hard behind him, his vision going spotty as he slid down to the ground. He wanted to get up, he wanted to run to Kacchan, but instead his eyes just closed and he passed out.

His ears rang painfully as Izuku managed to open his eyes. He groaned lightly without being able to hear it as his blurred vision tried to justify itself. Izuku wasn’t sure how long it took before his mind finally got the cobwebs out and he came back to himself. Everything about him hurt, and he could feel what must have been over a dozen bruises all over his body, but he’d had worse, so he forced himself up. He leaned against the wall to steady himself and looked around, seeing debris all around him. The jewelry store… the building must have come down around them from the force of the explosion from Kacchan’s gauntlet misfiring.

Oh god, Kacchan! Forcing himself forward despite the pain, Izuku stumbled to where he’d last seen Kacchan.

“Kacchan!” Izuku coughed as he shouted for his friend, dust trying to get down his throat as he walked. “Kacchan, where are you?”

Silence.

Izuku’s heart twisted in fear when Kacchan didn’t answer. What if something had happened when Izuku was unconscious? What if Kacchan had gotten kidnapped again? What if he’d gotten killed? God, Izuku couldn’t fathom it. Kacchan was just as much a part of him as his left arm was. He couldn’t lose Kacchan, he just couldn’t.

“Kacchan! Come on, answer me!” Izuku shouted, trying to search through the debris for any sign of his friend.

His blood ran cold when he saw lots of dots of red splattered over the floor. Izuku’s mind raced as he followed the red trail, his stomach twisting with dread as horrible images of Kacchan’s broken body flashed through his head. No, please, no, god, there was so much blood…

Izuku gasped as he came upon a pair of black boots lying still on the ground, and he immediately lurched forward, moving the body they were attached to to see who it was. A few tears ran down his cheeks as he realized that these belonged to the man who had been robbing the store. He ripped his glove off and felt at the man’s throat. He sighed heavily as he didn’t feel a pulse, and he saw some of the man’s own spikes embedded in his flesh. The force of the explosion must have sent the spikes back into him. It was a tragedy, and Izuku wished it hadn’t turned out like this, but his mind quickly drifted back to Kacchan. He needed to find his friend, he couldn’t waste any time. The potential for Kacchan to be injured was just too high.

He searched through the wreckage as carefully as he could, trying to determine any load bearing debris as he worked, using his quirk to help him dislodge what rubble he could. “Kacchan, come on, please answer me! Please! Anything! Just let me know you’re alive!”

His only answer was an eerie silence that terrified him. Kacchan never went that long without making noise.

Izuku’s heart pounded with fear in his chest, a vice twisting around his chest in the same way he’d felt that night at the training camp. “Please, Kacchan, please say something, don’t be gone, please let me find you, please!”

When he finally saw a glimpse of a green glove, he shrieked “Kacchan!”, and Izuku felt his instincts scream at him to get to Kacchan. His hands started shaking as he removed the rubble that was caging Kacchan in, and finally, after lifting a chunk of debris that must have been almost as big as Izuku himself, he finally saw the crumpled form of his dear friend. “Oh god, no, Kacchan!”

Kacchan lay upon a giant piece of rubble, slightly curled on his right side, lying in a pool of blood. Izuku immediately reached for Kacchan’s throat, and a shuddered sigh passed his lips as he felt a weak but steady pulse beating against his fingers. Izuku forced himself to calm down so he could properly triage Kacchan. Right now, his friend needed calm, and he needed support, and right now, Izuku was the only one who could give him that. Focus, Izuku, focus.

Izuku’s eyes were immediately drawn to Kacchan’s right arm, his silky skin embedded with horrible shrapnel. His right arm was soaked in blood, and took top priority. A quick glance showed that this was the most serious of the many wounds on Kacchan’s body, so he just slipped his hands underneath Kacchan’s chest and knees. He’d carry Kacchan to safety if it killed him.

A soft moan followed, and he realized that the movement must have woken Kacchan.

“Wha… de-deku?”

“Shh, you’re alright.” Izuku whispered, taking a moment to softly stroke Kacchan’s golden hair. Kacchan usually never let him get close enough to touch him, and he knew that Kacchan liked it even if he wouldn’t admit it. He’d seen Kirishima do it last week when Kacchan had a headache, and he’d seen that small smile on Kacchan’s face, even if he probably wasn’t meant to. Sure, Kacchan probably didn’t know that Izuku had been watching him, but he’d seen that Kacchan was clearly in pain, so he just wanted to check on his friend. It was nothing more, really. “Don’t move, Kacchan, I’ve got you.”

“What… happened?” Kacchan groaned, coughing a little. Probably from the dust, just as Izuku had.

“Your gauntlet misfired.” Izuku said simply. “You got hurt.”

Kacchan just made a pained noise in response.

“Shh, Kacchan, it’s alright, I’m going to take care of you.” Izuku said. He’d always wanted to do this, to be able to be close enough to take care of Kacchan, but he’d never been allowed before. “I’m going to get you to safety.”

Kacchan weakly shoved at him with his left arm. “I don’t need you, Deku.” Kacchan then tried to move and push himself up, but he didn’t even get off the ground before he shrieked in pain and collapsed again.

Izuku didn’t say anything for a moment. Kacchan glared at him. He tried again, trying to get up himself, but Kacchan just collapsed with another agonizing shout. It hurt Izuku’s heart to hear Kacchan’s beautiful voice exude such agony, but he knew his Kacchan. He had to try it himself before he let anyone even think about helping. As much as Izuku loved how independent Kacchan could be, sometimes, it was really frustrating to watch as Kacchan put himself through agony to prove a point Izuku already knew.

This time, Kacchan stayed down, panting heavily. Izuku knew that Kacchan would never verbally ask for help, especially not from him, but he knew that Kacchan not trying to stand again was his way of saying that he needed Izuku’s help. Izuku knew him better than anyone, he understood what Kacchan’s nonverbal behaviors meant, even if Kacchan himself didn’t know. Honestly, though, Kacchan had no choice but to accept Izuku’s help. He couldn’t even stand on his own. Izuku’d always wanted Kacchan to want him, to want him around, to want Izuku to take care of him, and he secretly hoped that maybe this would finally show to Kacchan that Izuku was the person who he would want when he was in trouble, when he needed someone to help him.

Gently, Izuku reached out and again stroked Kacchan’s satiny golden hair in an effort to be soothing. Kacchan swatted his hand away, but he could sense Kacchan’s strength waning. “Don’t… don’t touch me… Deku.”

“Kacchan, you’re badly hurt, and right now, I’m all you’ve got.” Izuku said, getting a little frustrated that Kacchan was acting like this even when he was so hurt. “I’m going to take care of you whether you like it or not.”

Kacchan just glared at him, but he could see the pain Kacchan was trying to keep hidden. Kacchan was so silly sometimes, trying to hide something that Izuku could so clearly see. But he knew that Kacchan had a really hard time being vulnerable, especially in front of Izuku, so he didn’t call Kacchan out on it. After all, it would just lead to another argument.

“I know you don’t like being touched, Kacchan, but you’re really hurt, and I need to do this.” Izuku said softly but firmly, and he resumed his position of grabbing Kacchan under his knees and chest. He started to lift, but he froze when Kacchan shrieked loudly in his ear.

“Wha- Kacchan, what’s wrong?” Izuku asked frantically. Kacchan would never scream like that unless he couldn’t hold it back.

“Right… side.” Kacchan gasped quietly, pain evident in every syllable. “Something… shifted.”

Izuku immediately set Kacchan back down, and rolled Kacchan over a bit, making Kacchan make a soft whimpering sound in the back of his throat. Izuku gasped as he saw what Kacchan must have felt. It had been hidden by Kacchan’s first position, but there was a metal rod sticking into Kacchan’s body, right above his hip. That must have been why there was so much pooled blood. Ohh, not good, not good. He set Kacchan back down, causing another gasp of pain.

“Kacchan, you’ve- there’s a steel rod, it’s stabbed into you.” Izuku explained, trying to keep panic out of his voice. Kacchan met his eyes, and he saw a fear in Kacchan’s beautiful crimson eyes that he hadn’t seen in a long time. They both knew that if the rod was displaced before they reached medical assistance that Kacchan would bleed out. And Izuku wasn’t willing to risk trying to break the rod, because the probability of making the wound worse was too high. Which meant that Izuku couldn’t carry Kacchan to safety without the potential of killing him.

Oh, god.

Okay, focus, Izuku, Kacchan’s terrified and he needs you. You’re the only one who can help him right now. Just like a dark part of him secretly wanted, though he always pushed that part of him down as far as it could go.

“Okay, I need to stop the bleeding on your arm.” Izuku thought out loud, so he could let Kacchan know what he was about to do so he could prepare himself. He could hear the subtle hitches in Kacchan’s breathing, they both knew this was gonna be painful. Be strong, Izuku. For Kacchan.

“I-I’ll be right back, Kacchan.” Izuku stuttered a little, hating to leave his precious Kacchan like this, scared and in pain, but he had to do this to save his best friend. “I’m going to see if this place has a first aid kit. Just-just call me if you need me.”

Izuku felt like he was tearing his heart in half, having to leave Kacchan alone for even a second while he was hurting and scared, but he forced himself to stand up anyways. His head swam a little as he did, his own injuries screaming at him for attention, but he’d had worse so he forced himself to ignore it. His own set of bruises was nothing in comparison, his poor Kacchan was in agony and as long as Kacchan hurt, Izuku’s pain didn’t matter.

Thankfully, whoever had run this place was thinking logically, and when Izuku finally found the remnants of a register, he also found a small first aid kit tucked away along with some tape. Knowing this would be the best he got, he immediately returned to his Kacchan. He flipped open the kit, and examined its contents, looking for very specific equipment. His heart calmed a little when he found tweezers and a small spray bottle of isopropyl alcohol, the two things he needed most right now. Okay, he could do this. Kachhan would be okay. Kacchan would be okay.

First things first, Izuku found a couple of ibuprofen tablets, and popped them out of their blister packs. Before he could put these to Kachhan’s mouth, Kacchan’s left hand snatched them away from him, and he dry swallowed the pills. It wouldn’t be nearly enough to stop the pain he was in, but Izuku hoped it would help. After all, the only real reason Kacchan would’ve done that was because he was in so much pain he couldn’t wait for Izuku’s gentleness.

“Kacchan, I have to clean the blood off, pull the fragments out, and then disinfect the wounds.” Izuku said, his voice shaking a little. Kacchan glared up at him, and yet Izuku, knowing Kacchan as well as he did, could still see the fear hidden in those beautiful crimson eyes.

“Fuck, just- fucking do it already.” Kacchan muttered, pain so horribly evident in Kacchan’s gorgeous voice. “I can take it.”

That Izuku knew. After everything they’d gone through, Izuku knew just how far Kacchan could push himself. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. He took the paper first aid guide and held it up to Kacchan’s mouth. “Here, bite down on this.”

At first it looked like Kacchan wasn’t going to, but after a moment of hesitation, Kacchan slowly moved to bite down on the booklet. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was the best they had. Izuku then maneuvered himself carefully to be slightly above, slightly next to Kacchan without him needing to move so Izuku could get at Kacchan’s whole arm. Even though Kacchan made a noise of protest, Izuku gently picked up Kacchan’s arm and placed it in his lap. Izuku knew the protest was just the pain, so he didn’t pay it any heed.

Izuku then pulled off his gloves, setting them aside. The kit didn’t have any rubber gloves to replace them, but his somewhat clean hands were better than his dirty gloves touching Kacchan’s silky, torn skin. All that was in the kit that Izuku could use was those little alcohol pads so he just tore one open. He carefully brought them to Kacchan’s shoulder, and took a deep breath.

Slowly, meticulously, Izuku then swiped the little pad down Kacchan’s bicep. It didn’t do much since it was so small, but he did his best. It was mere minutes before the pad was soaked with Kacchan’s blood, so he just tossed it aside and got another. As Izuku worked, Kacchan made little noises of pain when the pad hit an open wound, tiny lacerations that were hidden by the blood so thoroughly plastered to his skin, but Izuku kept going. He had to.

“It’s gonna be alright Kacchan, shh, I know it hurts, but you’re doing so well, I’ve got you.”

It felt like hours were passing as Izuku swiped at the blood on Kacchan’s arms, the little pads easily getting overwhelmed by the amount of blood. His heart was thundering in his chest as he saw every new cut, how deep some of the fragments were embedded into Kacchan’s touchable skin. He wished he could touch Kacchan like this when he wasn’t grievously wounded. As he wiped off the blood, he counted the lacerations as he found them, cataloging where it was and approximately how long it was. He didn’t think he’d ever been so grateful for his ability to pay so intense attention to detail.

After five eternities, Izuku finally finished with Kacchan’s arm as clean as he could get it. There were still spots of dried blood, but he didn’t try getting them. He didn’t want the attempt to aggravate Kacchan’s existing cuts and add to his obvious agony.

Now for the hard part.

Izuku’s hands were shaking as he picked up the tweezers after using the last of the alcohol pads to do his best to sterilize his hands. He met Kacchan’s eyes, as if nonverbally preparing him for what was to come. Kacchan’s eyes were filled with a resignation he’d never seen before, one that made Izuku almost feel the agony Kacchan was feeling inside, and then, Kacchan nodded. Izuku took another deep breath, and nodded back, understanding.

As Izuku moved determinedly, the shakiness in his hands slowed to a stop. He couldn’t afford to have shaky hands right now. Again, he started at Kacchan’s shoulder, working his way down to his forearm. Izuku’s heart and stomach lurched as he pulled the tiny pieces of shrapnel from Kacchan’s perfect body. Kacchan couldn’t stop himself from crying out whenever Izuku found one that was resistant to his gentle pulls, and gasping when the pieces finally slid out. Izuku had to look away from Kacchan’s face, unable to take the tears streaming down his cheeks. Kacchan was hurting so bad, and while he knew this was for Kacchan’s own good, that Kacchan had given him permission, that didn’t make him feel any less terrible about the pain he was causing his poor, poor Kacchan.

“You’re doing great, Kacchan, you’re doing great.” Izuku murmured, almost unaware of the words he was saying as he was so focused on his task. “Just a few more, just a few more, you’re doing great, Kacchan, almost there, almost there.”

Izuku’s movements became repetitive, tweezing the next piece of shrapnel, pulling it out as gently as he could, putting the very end of the tweezers into his mouth, then grabbing a piece of gauze from the kit and covering the wound with it, and finally, using the tape he found to keep the gauze secured to Kacchan’s wounds. A small pile of shrapnel was forming beside them as Izuku carefully extracted the twisted metal. But as hard as he tried to keep himself focused on his only job, taking care of Kacchan, his ears couldn’t help but be tormented by Kacchan’s moans and whimpers of pain as Izuku worked. Izuku’s heart was tearing itself into pieces knowing he was the cause of Kacchan’s pain, regardless of circumstances. He just knew that Kacchan was hurting, Kacchan was scared, and that meant Izuku was hurting too.

Finally, the fourteen Izuku had originally counted was down to one, and Izuku pulled it out with a tug, tug, tug. Kacchan’s voice cracked on the last tug as the shrapnel finally came loose, and he quickly taped down the last piece of gauze.

“There we go, okay, Kacchan, that was the last one, you’re done, you’re so brave Kacchan, you’re done, you were amazing.” Izuku murmured, brushing his hand through Kacchan’s hair again. “I’ve got some bandages in my pocket, I’ll wrap your arm and then I’ll go for help okay?”

It took three heartbeats for Kacchan to nod weakly, his eyes only half open. His level of compliance terrified Izuku.

“We’re almost done, Kacchan, you just gotta stay with me, okay?” Izuku said, pulling the bandages out of his pocket. “You gotta stay awake. Just a few more minutes. Stay awake, Kacchan, come on, stay awake.”

Kacchan’s eyelids fluttered precariously.

Izuku gulped nervously. He grabbed Kacchan’s arm, and even though he’d tried to be gentle, the movement itself must have been too much for Kacchan’s loose grip on consciousness, and he watched in horror as Kacchan’s eyes closed and didn’t open again. Izuku’s fingers immediately went back to Kacchan’s throat, but when he found a weak but steady pulse that was going too fast for his liking, he took another deep breath, trying to calm down. Kacchan must have just passed out from the pain, which wasn’t ideal but it also wasn’t fatal, so he took what he got. As much as he wanted Kacchan to be giving him attention, any kind of attention, he didn’t bother trying to wake Kacchan up, thinking it would waste valuable time. The medics could do that when they were helping him once they got here.

Izuku’s fingers nimbly began to wrap Kacchan’s arm as quickly as he could without losing the efficacy. He just had to do this so the gauze would stay in place, just in case blood weakened the tape with its moisture, and then he could go run for help. Swathes of white soon covered Kacchan’s arm, Izuku making sure that the bandages were tight but not too tight, covering the gauze properly so it wouldn’t be disturbed. Class 1-A had been given basic first aid training after Aizawa-sensei had recovered from the USJ, so he just pulled up the instructions in his head and followed them. Thankfully, had just enough bandages to cover the important parts, his knot stopping just shy of Kacchan’s wrist. He put another couple pieces of tape over the bandages and then stood up.

“I’m going to go get help, Kacchan.” Izuku said, knowing that Kacchan couldn’t hear him, but he couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye. He walked out of the jewelry store, checking to see if there was anyone else. The street was just as empty as it had been before, and he went to step forward, wanting to do what he’d always wanted to do and help Kacchan.

But something stopped him. He took one more look at Kacchan, who was still lying unconscious on the ground. The dark part of his heart whispered in his head, whispered that there had been something else he’d always wanted to do… and right now he had a chance to do it. He doubted he’d ever get a chance again, at least not for years. So even though his logical mind told him to stop, his heart had him going back to Kacchan.

Izuku knelt in front of Kacchan, looking for any sign of consciousness. When there wasn’t any, calloused fingers cupped Kacchan’s cheek, brushing his thumb over Kacchan’s satin skin. Kacchan was so beautiful, even when injured. Izuku could touch Kacchan every day for the rest of their lives and he’d never get tired of it. He longed for a day when Kacchan realized that his show of independence wouldn’t be necessary for him, that Izuku understood him in a way that no one else ever could. That Izuku loved him more than his own life, that Kacchan’s happiness mattered so much to Izuku that he’d sacrifice anything just to see Kacchan smile. In the deepest, darkest part of his heart, Izuku knew that Kacchan would be with him eventually. Izuku just had to keep trying, he just had to keep getting Kacchan’s attention any way he knew how.

Izuku’s free hand brushed through Kacchan’s golden hair again, savoring the feeling as he knew he wouldn’t get the chance for a while. When sunlight streamed through the windows in the dorms, Izuku could just stare at how Kacchan’s hair glowed in the light for hours as Kacchan sleepily made himself breakfast. It was his favorite part of the mornings, why he always tried to secretly align his schedule with Kacchan’s, so he could see it every chance he could.

But Izuku’s favorite thing to stare at was Kacchan’s lips. Secretly, whenever he was alone and no one could ever catch him, he’d imagine what it felt like to be kissed by those plump, full lips. Izuku could daydream for hours just imagining Kacchan’s lips pressed against his, his hands roving over Izuku’s body, their bodies pressed so closely together. And every time he’d tell himself that he just had to be patient, that he’d convince Kacchan how good they’d be together, that he was so sure that Kacchan actually really cared about him rather than the angry mask he put on. He just had to give Kacchan time. But right now, with Kacchan unconscious and left completely alone with him, Izuku didn’t have to be patient.

There was a spark of electricity within him as soon as Izuku pressed his lips against Kacchan’s, his heart singing with the thrill of being able to kiss Kacchan. Sure, he’d prefer that Kacchan was awake and willing, but this was more than enough for now. Izuku deepened the kiss against Kacchan’s slack lips, being selfish for once in his life. Kacchan’s lips were so much better than he’d imagined, soft and luscious and addictive. Izuku could happily spend a week just like this, kissing Kacchan’s perfect lips, even giving up food and water as much as he could just to spend more time with Kacchan loving him the way that Izuku knew he would, that he did.

Izuku pulled back immediately when Kacchan stirred, making a soft moan. Izuku scanned his face for any sign of waking, but Kacchan went still after that. Even though he was unconscious, Kacchan must have felt the same spark of electricity at their kiss that Izuku did.

“I love you too, Kacchan.” Izuku breathlessly whispered. “I’m going to save you.”

With his lips still tingling, Izuku stood up again, and took off to find the first paramedic he could. He was lightheaded and a little dizzy, but he was sure it had nothing to do with his own injuries (mostly), just feeling such an intense high of having fulfilled a lifelong dream of actually kissing Kacchan. And just as he promised he would, he would save Kacchan, no matter what. He’d save him from whatever threat ever came their way, no matter how vast or how cruel.

Nothing would ever keep him from Kacchan’s side again, not even Kacchan himself.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Don't Forget to Water Your Bakugou

Day 4 Hypnosis, Day 5 Heat Stroke, Day 6 Not Realizing They're Injured, Day 12 Just A Little More, Day 25 Being Monitored, Alt #10 Shivering

Class 1-A goes on a field trip. It's a ridiculously hot and humid day, and unfortunately, Shinsou's group accidentally gets lost in the woods. Bakugou ends up getting heat stroke and Shinsou, Kaminari, and Yaoyorozu take care of him the only way they can.

Todoroki always talked about how field trips for Class 1-A were cursed, and at this point, Shinsou was leaning to the conspiracy theorist being right about that. They’d traveled to Iriomote-Ishigaki National Park, an island at the end of the archipelago of Japan, a forest that was isolated and uninhabited, something that almost guaranteed they wouldn’t be attacked by villains. They’d gone to study local plant and animal life, a science project of sorts. They’d been split into five groups of four, making sure that if anything happened, they’d have backup. Shinsou at first thought it was a bit much, needing backup on an uninhabited island, but he was new to Class 1-A, and he didn’t want to question anything he didn’t have experience with. Admittedly, it did kinda seem that wherever Class 1-A went, trouble followed.

The day had been much hotter and more humid than originally anticipated, and boy did it show. Everyone was sweating, uncomfortable, and complaining about it. Kaminari was one of the loudest, which came as no surprise. Todoroki had graciously offered some of his ice, but when they’d arrived, they’d been split into their groups to explore separate parts of the island. That had elicited a groan from everyone at the thought of losing their portable air conditioner, but Aizawa-sensei had shut them up with a glare. Unfortunately for Shinsou, Todoroki hadn’t been in his randomly assigned group, but at least Bakugou had, and he could take that. Not only was Bakugou one of the best in the class, he was actually kinda becoming Shinsou’s friend.

Kaminari had assimilated Shinsou into his friend group regardless if Shinsou wanted friends or not, saying that “You look like you need a friend, and these guys are the best!” It hadn’t been an easy transition for him, as he’d never had many friends due to his quirk, no one really ever trusted him with themselves, but Kaminari just steamrolled what he knew and before he really knew it, Shinsou had become a part of the Bakusquad and there was no going back. But strangely enough, Bakugou had been the one who made the transition more tolerable, as apparently, he’d been given the same treatment by Kirishima.

“The more you tell them you don’t want friends, the more they weasel into your life.” Bakugou had said. “They at least get more tolerable with time.”

And he’d been right. The more time he spent with the Bakusquad, the more he enjoyed their company. There was still a part of him that was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to ask him something like using his quirk on a teacher so they wouldn’t have to take a test, or to use his voice synthesizer as a prank, but so far they hadn’t. They just seemed… genuinely interested in his friendship. Shinsou wasn’t quite sure what to make of that honestly. He’d never met such sincere people who were willing to trust him, despite knowing his quirk.

His favorite way to spend time though was when the rest of the squad was playing video games or complaining as they did their homework, was to just sit sort of next to Bakugou in silence. Oftentimes Bakugou would be reading three chapters ahead, but he never said anything when Shinsou would sit next to him on the couch to do his own thing. Occasionally, he’d glance over at what Shinsou was doing, correct him if he messed something up, but mostly they just sat together. It was a much needed calmness in the hecticness of their previously unwanted friend group. He didn’t know if Bakugou enjoyed it as much as he did, but Bakugou never refused him, so he took that to mean he liked it too.

“It’s so hot.” Kaminari whined, for what felt like the fifth time. “I hate humidity. It’s not fair that we have to be here when it’s so humid.”

“Shut up, Pikachu.” Bakugou snapped, wiping his sweat from his brow. “Not all of us are so weak that we have to complain about each and every little thing. We fucking know you hate it, stop fucking complaining. Won’t change anything about our situation. Fucking deal with it.”

Kaminari pouted, and the last member of their group, Yaoyorozu, offered to make him a cooling cloth to put around his neck.

“Don’t give him an out, Ponytail!” Bakugou snarled, glaring fiercely at her. “He needs to fucking toughen up, a little heat is nothing. What happens if you get caught near a fire? We’ve trained for worse, stop being such a baby!”

Kaminari pouted. “Don’t I get a say in this? She didn’t offer it to you.”

“No, you fucking don’t.” Bakugou growled. “You’d cheat on tests if you could get away with it, I’m not fucking letting you cheat in this shit.”

Kaminari groaned, pouting, but he didn’t take Yaoyorozu up on her offer. Shinsou watched Bakugou carefully, and he realized something as they walked. Bakugou wasn’t just being a dick about this, making Kaminari suffer alongside the rest of them. But Shinsou noticed in his words that it almost seemed like Bakugou was trying to help Kaminari train. He was right, a fire was an intense amount of heat where things like cooling clothes wouldn’t help, or wouldn’t be available in the first place. It seemed as if Bakugou was trying to toughen Kaminari up himself, which was an interesting thought. Apparently Bakugou wasn’t as detached from the squad as he made himself appear to be. Very interesting.

Together, all four of them explored their area of the forest, Bakugou and Yaoyorozu writing down their notes of the things they observed. Only one person was really instructed to write everything down, Kaminari immediately made pleading eyes with Yaoyorozu until she accepted with a smile, but Bakugou seemed to be writing his own notes anyways. Shinsou kept an eye on what he was writing down, wanting to make sure he didn’t miss anything, needing to study twice as hard to be half as good as everyone else since he transferred in so late. It was actually the journal that initially gave Shinsou the first hint that something was wrong. Bakugou prided himself on his… well, everything, but one of the things was his very crisp, legible handwriting. But as they walked, as the minutes turned into an hour, Bakugou’s handwriting seemed to be getting worse.

“You okay, dude?” Shinsou whispered as Kaminari found a frog, (and then immediately shrieked when it leapt his way).

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Bakugou snapped back, again wiping his brow.

“Just… thought your writing was getting a little messy.” Shinsou said, and when he said it aloud, he realized just how flimsy his evidence was. “You’re just usually so… neat.”

Bakugou just glared at him. “Keep your fucking nose out of my business.”

“I was just trying to help, okay?” Shinsou held up his hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but you and I are actually kinda friends now, and I was trying to look out for you.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Let alone some stray that Pikachu brought home.”

Shinsou’s heart hurt a little at that, surprised by Bakugou’s testiness. Sure, the guy was always cranky, but this seemed a little strong for even the explosive boy. Bakugou had never called him a stray before, and even though he probably didn’t mean it, it still hurt to hear.

“Fine, asshole.” Shinsou snapped back. “Forgive me for wanting to be a decent human being to you. I won’t do it again.”

Shinsou then stomped off before Bakugou could reply, and went over to a giggling Yaoyorozu and a frightened Kaminari standing behind her.

“Hey, ‘Toshi, does your quirk work on animals?” Kaminari asked, staring warily at the tiny little frog. “It won’t leave me alone.”

“It doesn’t, Denki, but I don’t think we need it.” Shinsou just chuckled, and scooped the frog up gently. He then softly tossed it back near the river, and it jumped out of his hands to return to its house. “There. Now you’re safe from the itty bitty frog.”

Kamiari glared at him with a pout on his lips. “‘Toshiiiii. Don’t be so mean. We’ve already got Kacchan for that.”

Shinsou snorted bitterly. “Yeah we do.”

As dumb as Kaminari was, he said with love, Kaminari was actually very perceptive about people’s emotions. At least, when it didn’t come to flirting. “You okay?”

“Bakugou’s just an asshole, it’s fine.” Shinsou muttered.

“Oh, yeah, he gets extra cranky when he’s uncomfortable.” Kaminari shrugged casually, as if it was common knowledge. “And heat like this makes him cranky.”

Shinsou looked back at Bakugou, and saw him wiping his forehead again, panting a little. He vaguely remembered Kirishima making sure Bakugou drank lots of water on hot days, saying that Bakugou’s sweat didn’t cool him down like a normal person’s. It wasn’t an excuse, and he wasn’t forgiven, but at least Shinsou understood a little more.

Even so, Shinsou avoided Bakugou as they continued to explore, but the blond was quiet, reserved even, which Shinsou found odd but at the moment he didn’t care. He was just glad that Bakugou wasn’t yelling or snapping at anyone anymore.

“Um, guys?” Kaminari voiced after a bit, uncertainty clear in his tone. “Um. Does anyone remember how we got here? Because I can’t find the path we’re supposed to be on.”

Bakugou then stomped over to them with a snarl and a glare. “Are you saying you got us lost, Pikachu?”

“I- um, uh…”

“You stupid idiot!”

Shinsou then stepped between them, holding up his hand. “Hey! You weren’t paying attention to where we were going either. It’s just as much our fault as it is his!”

Bakugou just snarled at him and stalked off.

“Oi! Kacchan, where are you going?”

“Retracing our steps, idiot!” Bakugou shouted back.

Shinsou met Kaminari and Yaoyorozu’s eyes and nodded, following after him. If anyone knew what to do, it would be Bakugou. Kirishima had told him that he and Bakugou often went on hikes, even went rock climbing together too. He’d know what to do when lost in the woods.

Bakugou knelt down, seemingly examining their tracks. “Ponytail, make me a compass.”

“Kacchan, don’t you have one of those real fancy ones?” Kaminari asked.

“Yes, but it’s in my climbing pack, which is currently still in the dorms.” Bakugou said. “We weren’t going climbing, didn’t think I’d need to bring it. I wasn’t expecting you fucks to get us lost. So, Ponytail, make me a compass.”

“Of course, Bakugou.” Yaoyorozu said, and after a moment, handed him a compass.

“If we keep going southwest, based on our previous direction, we should make it back to the path Dunce Face wasn’t supposed to get off of.”

Bakugou then stood up, and wobbled for a moment. That caught everyone’s attention.

“Whoa, Kacchan, are you okay?”

“Bakugou, are you alright? Do you need some water?”

“I’m fine! Back off!” Bakugou snarled at them.

Shinsou noticed there was a faint flush of red on Bakugou’s cheeks as he shouted at them. A sunburn maybe? That would explain the crankiness, but not that moment where he lost his balance. Unless the sunburn was giving him a headache maybe? Most people were much more irritable when in pain.

“Just fucking keep up, I’m not fucking keeping track of you shits.”

“Why can’t you just let people care about you, huh?” Shinsou asked before he could stop himself, even though he knew that his question would piss Bakugou off.

“I don’t need your fucking pity!” Bakugou shouted back at him, wiping his forehead again. If Shinsou wasn’t so distracted by Bakugou’s anger, he would’ve noticed that Bakugou’s skin was too dry for the hotness of the day.

“I’m not fucking giving you any!” Shinsou yelled, refusing to back down. Shinsou had observed enough interactions with the explosive blond, he knew that the best way to get through to him was to not back down from his anger. “Not everyone who fucking asks if you’re okay is fucking pitying you, you asshole!”

Yaoyorozu then stepped between them. “Boys, please! Yelling at each other isn’t going to get us back on the path.”

Bakugou just snarled at him again before stomping off.

They quickly followed, Shinsou switching between fury and worry as he looked at his friend. Bakugou’s breath was coming a little faster than usual as they walked, and his skin was flushed red. But at the same time, Bakugou seemed his normal, cranky, asshole self. Though, he also knew that Bakugou would never tell them he wasn’t feeling well. Damn bastard. At this point, Shinsou didn’t even know whether or not he even should be worried. He didn’t think Bakugou was a liar, and he seemed very convinced that he was fine.

Suddenly, Bakugou stopped, and his hand came to his forehead.

When he didn’t speak, Yaoyorozu did. “Um, Bakugou? Is everything alright?”

Bakugou didn’t answer her.

Too late, Shinsou realized Bakugou was tilting to the side, and he watched in horror as Bakugou’s legs seemed to give out. His newly trained hero instincts had him moving before he could even process what was happening, his arms immediately wrapping around Bakugou’s body. But even with the strength training he’d been doing, he couldn’t stop them both from crashing to the ground, Shinsou doing his best to clutch Bakugou’s head to his chest, doing his best to protect his friend.

“Bakugou!”  “Kacchan!”

Kaminari and Yaoyorozu rushed to their side, and Shinsou pulled himself up a little, still holding Bakugou close to his chest, adjusting so he was laying up against a nearby tree. Hands came to Bakugou’s shoulders, his waist, and together he and Yaoyorozu turned the unconscious blond over. Bakugou’s head lolled limply, and Shinsou’s heart began to pound in his chest.

“Fuck, he feels like he’s on fire.” Shinsou murmured, pressing his hand to Bakugou’s forehead. “And I think he stopped sweating.”

“His heart and breathing are also going too fast.” Yaoyorozu added, her face set in a serious expression. “I think he has heat stroke.”

Shinsou’s stomach twisted painfully with dread. Irritability and agitation were also a sign of heat stroke, and Shinsou had just chalked it up to Bakugou just being an asshole. Dammit, he knew something was wrong with Bakugou, and he let Bakugou’s attitude deter him from checking on his friend. Dammit.

“Heat stroke? Isn’t that the really serious one?” Kaminari asked, fear evident in his voice.

Yaoyorozu nodded grimly. “Yes. It means his body temperature is over 40 (104) degrees. We need to cool him down immediately.”

“The river.” Shinsou said, and Yaoyorozu and Kaminari nodded.

Shinsou stood up, and grabbed Bakugou’s right arm, as Kaminari grabbed his left. Together, they hauled Bakugou up, slinging his arms over their shoulders and grabbing Bakugou’s waist, running as quickly as they could to the river. Bakugou’s feet dragged limply as they ran, and Shinsou just tried to focus on getting to the river. Bakugou would be okay, they just had to cool him down. The river was close, they just had to get him there.

“Okay, so should we just toss him in or something?” Kaminari asked, clearly panicking a little. Shinsou didn’t blame him. He’d known 1A long enough to know that when something bad happened, they looked to Bakugou (and Midoriya and Todoroki) for the game plan, Kaminari and the Bakusquad especially. And he knew how Kaminari studied, which is to say not at all, so poor Kaminari must feel like he has absolutely no idea of what to do.

“No, we need to ease him in gently, otherwise we might put him into shock.” Yaoyorozu said. Then she shifted a little nervously. “And… we need to take his clothes off.”

Awkwardness hung heavy in the air for a moment. But then Shinsou just took a deep breath, and nodded. None of them wanted to do this, but it had to be done. “Alright. Yaomomo, you get his shirt off, and then Denki and I will get his pants.”

Shinsou watched Yaoyorozu’s nimble fingers undo the buttons on Bakugou’s white shirt, exposing more and more of his skin as she went. They wrangled Bakugou’s limp arms out of his shirt, and then he and Kaminari laid Bakugou down onto the ground. Shinsou’s hands shook a little as he unbuckled Bakugou’s belt, and then the buttons on his pants. Kaminari and Yaoyorozu lifted his waist so Shinsou could slide the fabric down Bakugou’s body, then they took off Bakugou’s shoes and socks, setting them aside so Shinsou could place the other clothes on them.

After taking a few moments to splash the river water onto Bakugou’s heated skin, all three of them carefully maneuvered Bakugou into the cool water. Slowly, they laid Bakugou down to where the water was coming up just below his shoulders. The blond made a soft sound as they did, but he didn’t seem to wake fully. Shinsou’s stomach twisted hard with dread again.

Yaoyorozu pulled a rag out of her chest. She dipped it into the water and wrung it out before placing it on Bakugou’s forehead. She then took a big, deep breath before her chest sparkled as she pulled a sunbrella out, which Kaminari set up to cast them into shadow. “Okay, that should be good for now. It’s not ideal, but this should keep him from overheating even further, and should hopefully bring his temperature down.”

Shinsou didn’t like how Yaoyorozu was saying ‘should’, but it was the best they had. A hand suddenly came to his shoulder, and when he faced it, Kaminari was looking at him with a sad smile.

“Don’t worry, ‘Toshi. He’ll be alright. He always is. He’s Bakugou. If he could survive like twelve villain attacks, then heat’s got nothing on him.”

Shinsou nodded softly, grateful for his friend’s optimism. “We need to get back to the teachers, they can take him back to the mainland and get him actual help.”

“I mean, that’s a good plan, ‘Toshi, but going back to the river made us even more lost.” Kaminari sighed. “Wait, Yaomomo, can you make, like, a GPS or something? Something that could find the teachers?”

“Well, I could make a GPS but that would only tell us where we are.” Yaoyorozu murmured. “I could make one if someone decides to go looking for the teachers, that would lead them back to us. But it wouldn’t make us any less lost.”

Kaminari deflated a little. Shinsou put his hand on Kaminari’s shoulder and squeezed.

“We’ll figure this out, Denks.” Shinsou tried for a smile. “We just need to put our heads together. We’re smart, we can think of something.”

A sudden noise caught all of their attention, and Bakugou’s crimson eyes fluttered open a little. Oh thank god. As much as Shinsou had studied hero coursework, being trapped on an island away from all medical help and other people with someone with heat stroke hadn’t exactly been covered. Shinsou was really relieved that Bakugou would be back to be able to guide them back to camp.

But when Shinsou’s eyes met Bakugou’s, his heart sank. Unfocused crimson was dull with haze, and Shinsou’s shoulders slumped. Bakugou’s mouth moved for a moment with no sound before he croaked out a quiet, “water.”

Everyone scrambled to grab their water bottles, and since Shinsou’s was the only one with a straw, it was quickly decided that that would be the one used, and Shinsou brought it to Bakugou’s lips. Yaoyorozu positioned herself behind Bakugou, lifting him gently so his head rested in her lap. Shinsou pressed the straw to Bakugou’s lips, and he took a sip.

“Come on, Bakugou, just a little more.” Shinsou softly coaxed, keeping his water bottle at Bakugou’s lips.

Bakugou made a hushed noise of negation. “Mm… mm. Feel sick.”

“The water will help, Bakugou, come on.” Shinsou said. When Bakugou refused again, his voice still slightly slurred, a terrible idea came into his head.

It seemed that Kaminari had the same idea as he said, “Um, Hitosh? Maybe you should use your quirk.”

Shinsou looked to Yaoyorozu, who he trusted with making this decision. He wouldn’t dare use his quirk without everyone agreeing.

“He really does need the water.” Yaoyorozu sighed. “Feeling sick is a symptom of heat stroke, and he needs the hydration to combat it.”

Shinsou’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded. He hated using his quirk like this, when the innocent person he was using it on wasn’t consenting, but it was for the greater good.

Bakugou, please, just drink a little more.” Shinsou pleaded with him one last time, wanting to save using his quirk as a last resort.

Again, Bakugou refused, turning his head away from the water bottle. It broke his heart, but when the blond murmured, “uh-uh,” Shinsou activated his quirk. He blanketed Bakugou’s mind with his quirk, calming Bakugou’s fierce willpower with a soft darkness. Bakugou’s mind was powerful, and if he was fully conscious Shinsou doubted he’d be able to get control of Bakugou. But he wasn’t fully conscious, he was suffering and dehydrated, so Shinsou easily got a hold of Bakugou’s mind.

“Drink five small sips of water.” Shinsou commanded, using careful language. He always had to be careful in the language he used on those he controlled, as vagueness just left them confused and disoriented, able to fight back.

As commanded, Bakugou drank five more sips of water, and Shinsou used his quirk to soften the edges of the illness Bakguou was feeling right now, able to feel his own stomach rolling as Bakgou’s did. But the power of telepathy behind his quirk also let Shinsou soothe neural impulses, and he could ease the nausea within Bakugou to keep him drinking without issue.

“Is that enough?” Shinsou whispered, not breaking eye contact with Bakugou. “Has he had enough?”

He could feel his friends’ discomfort as they watched him control Bakugou, even if it was necessary, and he hated it. He wanted it over with as quickly as possible, for all their sakes.

“M-may… maybe a little more?” Yaoyorozu responded after a moment. “I-I can’t tell if he’s hydrated enough.”

“Drink five more small sips of water.” Shinsou commanded, and Bakugou instantly complied.

Shinsou felt Bakugou’s mind wavering, and he knew Bakugou was close to passing out again, so he withdrew his mind from Bakugou’s. Still, it took a moment to meet his friends’ eyes again. He knew they wouldn’t blame him for doing that, but it didn’t make him feel any less lousy for needing to control Bakugou to get him to drink some damn water. He just hung his head for a minute, needing to gather his courage to look Kaminari and Yaoyorozu in the eye again.

“H-hey, he’s shivering.” Kaminari said, which caused Shinsou to look up at the electric blond. “Does that mean the water is too cold?”

“No I don’t think so.” Yaoyorozu shook her head, feeling Bakugou’s cheeks and neck with the back of her hand. “He’s cooled down a little though. He’s not as hot as before.”

“Think we can chance moving him?” Shinsou asked, with a pit of dread in his stomach that the river wouldn’t help their friend for too much longer.

“I’m not sure.” Yaoyorozu worried at her lip. “If we weren’t lost, I’d think we could, but we still have no idea how far our base camp is from here. We can’t take him and look for help for more than… I’d say a half an hour. It would just make him worse.”

“Then you guys stay here.” Kaminari said, suddenly standing. “I’m gonna go look for help.”

“Whoa, hey, Denki-”

“No, I got us lost, I need to get us unlost.” Kaminari said. “Kacchan needs a hospital where they can actually get him out of this humidity and actually cool him off and stuff. And Hitoshi, you need to be able to help Kacchan when he can’t do it himself and Yaomomo knows the most about heat stroke and can make anything he needs. I’m expendable, I need to go looking for someone who can help us get out of here.”

“You’re not expendable, Denki!” Shinsou argued, hating that what Kaminari was saying was making a little sense, but he refused to let his friend think so lowly of himself.

“Yes, Kaminari, Shinsou’s right. You’re not expendable. You’ve been incredibly helpful.”

“Well, I’m gonna go be more helpful.” Kaminari said resolutely, and Shinsou knew they wouldn’t be able to change his mind. Once any member of the Bakusquad set their minds to something, there was no talking them out of it. “Yaomomo, can I have that GPS?”

Shinsou and Yaoyorozu exchanged a glance, and he could see a resignation in her eyes that matched his own.

“Alright, but please be careful, Kaminari.” Yaoyorozu pleaded, and within moments, she handed him a fully functioning GPS system. “Walking alone in the woods seems to be inviting trouble.”

“I’ll be safe, Yaomomo.” Kaminari gave them a thumbs up, and unexpectedly, it did kinda make Shinsou feel better. “I’ll be real careful, I promise.”

Yaoyorozu then handed Kaminari a walkie talkie. “Take this too, so we can keep in contact.”

“Check in like every five minutes, dude.” Shinsou said, his worry clearly shining through. “And make sure to drink lots of water.”

“I will. Just stay here, guys, I’ll get help.” Kaminari said, giving them both a look before turning and taking off. Shinsou watched with a heavy heart until Kaminari was out of sight. He knew that the park was uninhabited, but there was always the risk of getting injured or heat exhaustion or spooking a venomous animal. Kaminari could break his ankle or get bitten by a snake or fall down a crevasse or…

“He’ll be alright.” Yaoyorozu then said, startling him from his thoughts. “If there’s anything that Class 1-A is, it’s good in a crisis.”

Shinsou huffed softly. “Yeah. Guess Fate decided that I’m supposed to see that for myself.”

“Hey-o, my dudes, I’m still alive.” The walkie talkie then chirped and they giggled a little, Kaminari’s words breaking the tension a little.

“Glad to hear it, man.” Shinsou said into their receiver.

Silence followed for a little while, but it wasn’t as awkward as Shinsou was used to. Most silences around him were awkward, people wanting too much from him or no one feeling comfortable around him, but for some reason, it was a calm silence, like how when he sat with Bakugou on the couch. If Bakugou hadn’t been so sick, it would’ve been almost nice.

As an amount of time that Shinsou wasn’t sure of passed, he and Yaoyorozu just kept tending to Bakugou. Re-soaking the cloth on his forehead with cool water, gently splashing his exposed skin, adjusting the sunbrella to keep the sun off of them. Bakugou regained consciousness a couple of times, and Shinsou was able to get him to drink a little bit more water, but he never stayed awake long enough for much else. Kaminari routinely checked in with them, telling them that he was fine, and venting a little about how all trees look alike. Shinsou just prayed that Kaminari wasn’t getting any more lost.

“I’m- I’m sorry guys, I feel like I’ve passed this tree like four times, I can’t- hey! Guys! Over here!” Kaminari shouted through the walkie talkie, and both Shinsou and Yaoyorozu perked up.

“What’s going on, Kaminari?” Yaoyorozu asked.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I finally found you guys, I’ve been searching for forever!” Kaminari said, not answering the question.

“Where the hell have you guys been, man?!” That was Kirishima, worry evident in his tone. Kaminari had found their class again! “We’ve been looking for you guys for over an hour!”

“Kacchan got heat stroke, we had to go to the river to cool him down, and we got lost.” Kaminari said desperately. “But- but don’t worry, Yaomomo made me a GPS thingy, it’ll lead us straight back to them!”

“Then let’s waste no time.” Shinsou was a little surprised to hear their teacher’s voice, but he supposed that when students were missing, Aizawa-sensei would never let his students search alone. “Lead us back to your group, Kaminari.”

“Yes, sir, Aizawa-sensei sir!”

“Thank goodness.” Yaoyorozu murmured, softly stroking Bakugou’s cheek almost absentmindedly. “I was beginning to get really worried.”

Shinsou nodded, his body untensing as relief flooded through him. “Yeah, me too.”

After a bit, Kaminari shouted through the walkie talkie. “Guys! Guys! The GPS thingy says we’ll be at your location in three minutes.”

“Understood, Kaminari, and thank you.” Yaoyorozu answered.

Aizawa must have taken the walkie talkie because it was his voice that echoed through next. “How’s Bakugou?” 

“Still unconscious, but he’s better than when he first passed out.” Yaoyorozu replied. “His shivering has calmed down a little, and we’ve been able to get him to drink some water when he does wake up.”

“Well done.”

Once everyone arrived, Shinsou thought it was like a sort of controlled chaos. Everyone else must have returned on time, as Aizawa had been walking with their whole class, probably to keep everyone together, and so many people immediately rushed in to help. Kirishima picked Bakugou up, Todoroki brushed a thin layer of ice over Bakugou’s skin, Sero grabbed all of Bakugou’s clothes, Midoriya and the girls immediately worried over both he and Yaoyorozu, checking over them as Aizawa checked over Bakugou. It was a lot of stimulation at once, and kinda overwhelming, but then Kaminari put a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder and squeezed gently, grounding him a little, and Shinsou managed a small smile.

As they headed back to the boat, with Bakugou in Kirishima’s arms, Shinsou finally felt a sense of tranquility come over him, safe in the knowledge that soon they’d be back in their air conditioned dormitory and Bakugou would be in an air conditioned hospital room. While they walked, Shinsou couldn’t help but find himself drawn to Bakugou’s slack face. It was strange, his blank face looked almost peaceful, serene. It was the gentlest expression he thought he’d ever seen on Bakugou. He wondered if the blond could tell that he was surrounded by friends and safety as they walked. He hoped so.

When Bakugou woke up later in Recovery Girl’s office, Shinsou would be there waiting for him.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Don't Forget to Water Your Bakugou

Day 4 Hypnosis, Day 5 Heat Stroke, Day 6 Not Realizing They're Injured, Day 12 Just A Little More, Day 25 Being Monitored, Alt #10 Shivering

Class 1-A goes on a field trip. It's a ridiculously hot and humid day, and unfortunately, Shinsou's group accidentally gets lost in the woods. Bakugou ends up getting heat stroke and Shinsou, Kaminari, and Yaoyorozu take care of him the only way they can.

Todoroki always talked about how field trips for Class 1-A were cursed, and at this point, Shinsou was leaning to the conspiracy theorist being right about that. They’d traveled to Iriomote-Ishigaki National Park, an island at the end of the archipelago of Japan, a forest that was isolated and uninhabited, something that almost guaranteed they wouldn’t be attacked by villains. They’d gone to study local plant and animal life, a science project of sorts. They’d been split into five groups of four, making sure that if anything happened, they’d have backup. Shinsou at first thought it was a bit much, needing backup on an uninhabited island, but he was new to Class 1-A, and he didn’t want to question anything he didn’t have experience with. Admittedly, it did kinda seem that wherever Class 1-A went, trouble followed.

The day had been much hotter and more humid than originally anticipated, and boy did it show. Everyone was sweating, uncomfortable, and complaining about it. Kaminari was one of the loudest, which came as no surprise. Todoroki had graciously offered some of his ice, but when they’d arrived, they’d been split into their groups to explore separate parts of the island. That had elicited a groan from everyone at the thought of losing their portable air conditioner, but Aizawa-sensei had shut them up with a glare. Unfortunately for Shinsou, Todoroki hadn’t been in his randomly assigned group, but at least Bakugou had, and he could take that. Not only was Bakugou one of the best in the class, he was actually kinda becoming Shinsou’s friend.

Kaminari had assimilated Shinsou into his friend group regardless if Shinsou wanted friends or not, saying that “You look like you need a friend, and these guys are the best!” It hadn’t been an easy transition for him, as he’d never had many friends due to his quirk, no one really ever trusted him with themselves, but Kaminari just steamrolled what he knew and before he really knew it, Shinsou had become a part of the Bakusquad and there was no going back. But strangely enough, Bakugou had been the one who made the transition more tolerable, as apparently, he’d been given the same treatment by Kirishima.

“The more you tell them you don’t want friends, the more they weasel into your life.” Bakugou had said. “They at least get more tolerable with time.”

And he’d been right. The more time he spent with the Bakusquad, the more he enjoyed their company. There was still a part of him that was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to ask him something like using his quirk on a teacher so they wouldn’t have to take a test, or to use his voice synthesizer as a prank, but so far they hadn’t. They just seemed… genuinely interested in his friendship. Shinsou wasn’t quite sure what to make of that honestly. He’d never met such sincere people who were willing to trust him, despite knowing his quirk.

His favorite way to spend time though was when the rest of the squad was playing video games or complaining as they did their homework, was to just sit sort of next to Bakugou in silence. Oftentimes Bakugou would be reading three chapters ahead, but he never said anything when Shinsou would sit next to him on the couch to do his own thing. Occasionally, he’d glance over at what Shinsou was doing, correct him if he messed something up, but mostly they just sat together. It was a much needed calmness in the hecticness of their previously unwanted friend group. He didn’t know if Bakugou enjoyed it as much as he did, but Bakugou never refused him, so he took that to mean he liked it too.

“It’s so hot.” Kaminari whined, for what felt like the fifth time. “I hate humidity. It’s not fair that we have to be here when it’s so humid.”

“Shut up, Pikachu.” Bakugou snapped, wiping his sweat from his brow. “Not all of us are so weak that we have to complain about each and every little thing. We fucking know you hate it, stop fucking complaining. Won’t change anything about our situation. Fucking deal with it.”

Kaminari pouted, and the last member of their group, Yaoyorozu, offered to make him a cooling cloth to put around his neck.

“Don’t give him an out, Ponytail!” Bakugou snarled, glaring fiercely at her. “He needs to fucking toughen up, a little heat is nothing. What happens if you get caught near a fire? We’ve trained for worse, stop being such a baby!”

Kaminari pouted. “Don’t I get a say in this? She didn’t offer it to you.”

“No, you fucking don’t.” Bakugou growled. “You’d cheat on tests if you could get away with it, I’m not fucking letting you cheat in this shit.”

Kaminari groaned, pouting, but he didn’t take Yaoyorozu up on her offer. Shinsou watched Bakugou carefully, and he realized something as they walked. Bakugou wasn’t just being a dick about this, making Kaminari suffer alongside the rest of them. But Shinsou noticed in his words that it almost seemed like Bakugou was trying to help Kaminari train. He was right, a fire was an intense amount of heat where things like cooling clothes wouldn’t help, or wouldn’t be available in the first place. It seemed as if Bakugou was trying to toughen Kaminari up himself, which was an interesting thought. Apparently Bakugou wasn’t as detached from the squad as he made himself appear to be. Very interesting.

Together, all four of them explored their area of the forest, Bakugou and Yaoyorozu writing down their notes of the things they observed. Only one person was really instructed to write everything down, Kaminari immediately made pleading eyes with Yaoyorozu until she accepted with a smile, but Bakugou seemed to be writing his own notes anyways. Shinsou kept an eye on what he was writing down, wanting to make sure he didn’t miss anything, needing to study twice as hard to be half as good as everyone else since he transferred in so late. It was actually the journal that initially gave Shinsou the first hint that something was wrong. Bakugou prided himself on his… well, everything, but one of the things was his very crisp, legible handwriting. But as they walked, as the minutes turned into an hour, Bakugou’s handwriting seemed to be getting worse.

“You okay, dude?” Shinsou whispered as Kaminari found a frog, (and then immediately shrieked when it leapt his way).

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Bakugou snapped back, again wiping his brow.

“Just… thought your writing was getting a little messy.” Shinsou said, and when he said it aloud, he realized just how flimsy his evidence was. “You’re just usually so… neat.”

Bakugou just glared at him. “Keep your fucking nose out of my business.”

“I was just trying to help, okay?” Shinsou held up his hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but you and I are actually kinda friends now, and I was trying to look out for you.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Let alone some stray that Pikachu brought home.”

Shinsou’s heart hurt a little at that, surprised by Bakugou’s testiness. Sure, the guy was always cranky, but this seemed a little strong for even the explosive boy. Bakugou had never called him a stray before, and even though he probably didn’t mean it, it still hurt to hear.

“Fine, asshole.” Shinsou snapped back. “Forgive me for wanting to be a decent human being to you. I won’t do it again.”

Shinsou then stomped off before Bakugou could reply, and went over to a giggling Yaoyorozu and a frightened Kaminari standing behind her.

“Hey, ‘Toshi, does your quirk work on animals?��� Kaminari asked, staring warily at the tiny little frog. “It won’t leave me alone.”

“It doesn’t, Denki, but I don’t think we need it.” Shinsou just chuckled, and scooped the frog up gently. He then softly tossed it back near the river, and it jumped out of his hands to return to its house. “There. Now you’re safe from the itty bitty frog.”

Kamiari glared at him with a pout on his lips. “‘Toshiiiii. Don’t be so mean. We’ve already got Kacchan for that.”

Shinsou snorted bitterly. “Yeah we do.”

As dumb as Kaminari was, he said with love, Kaminari was actually very perceptive about people’s emotions. At least, when it didn’t come to flirting. “You okay?”

“Bakugou’s just an asshole, it’s fine.” Shinsou muttered.

“Oh, yeah, he gets extra cranky when he’s uncomfortable.” Kaminari shrugged casually, as if it was common knowledge. “And heat like this makes him cranky.”

Shinsou looked back at Bakugou, and saw him wiping his forehead again, panting a little. He vaguely remembered Kirishima making sure Bakugou drank lots of water on hot days, saying that Bakugou’s sweat didn’t cool him down like a normal person’s. It wasn’t an excuse, and he wasn’t forgiven, but at least Shinsou understood a little more.

Even so, Shinsou avoided Bakugou as they continued to explore, but the blond was quiet, reserved even, which Shinsou found odd but at the moment he didn’t care. He was just glad that Bakugou wasn’t yelling or snapping at anyone anymore.

“Um, guys?” Kaminari voiced after a bit, uncertainty clear in his tone. “Um. Does anyone remember how we got here? Because I can’t find the path we’re supposed to be on.”

Bakugou then stomped over to them with a snarl and a glare. “Are you saying you got us lost, Pikachu?”

“I- um, uh…”

“You stupid idiot!”

Shinsou then stepped between them, holding up his hand. “Hey! You weren’t paying attention to where we were going either. It’s just as much our fault as it is his!”

Bakugou just snarled at him and stalked off.

“Oi! Kacchan, where are you going?”

“Retracing our steps, idiot!” Bakugou shouted back.

Shinsou met Kaminari and Yaoyorozu’s eyes and nodded, following after him. If anyone knew what to do, it would be Bakugou. Kirishima had told him that he and Bakugou often went on hikes, even went rock climbing together too. He’d know what to do when lost in the woods.

Bakugou knelt down, seemingly examining their tracks. “Ponytail, make me a compass.”

“Kacchan, don’t you have one of those real fancy ones?” Kaminari asked.

“Yes, but it’s in my climbing pack, which is currently still in the dorms.” Bakugou said. “We weren’t going climbing, didn’t think I’d need to bring it. I wasn’t expecting you fucks to get us lost. So, Ponytail, make me a compass.”

“Of course, Bakugou.” Yaoyorozu said, and after a moment, handed him a compass.

“If we keep going southwest, based on our previous direction, we should make it back to the path Dunce Face wasn’t supposed to get off of.”

Bakugou then stood up, and wobbled for a moment. That caught everyone’s attention.

“Whoa, Kacchan, are you okay?”

“Bakugou, are you alright? Do you need some water?”

“I’m fine! Back off!” Bakugou snarled at them.

Shinsou noticed there was a faint flush of red on Bakugou’s cheeks as he shouted at them. A sunburn maybe? That would explain the crankiness, but not that moment where he lost his balance. Unless the sunburn was giving him a headache maybe? Most people were much more irritable when in pain.

“Just fucking keep up, I’m not fucking keeping track of you shits.”

“Why can’t you just let people care about you, huh?” Shinsou asked before he could stop himself, even though he knew that his question would piss Bakugou off.

“I don’t need your fucking pity!” Bakugou shouted back at him, wiping his forehead again. If Shinsou wasn’t so distracted by Bakugou’s anger, he would’ve noticed that Bakugou’s skin was too dry for the hotness of the day.

“I’m not fucking giving you any!” Shinsou yelled, refusing to back down. Shinsou had observed enough interactions with the explosive blond, he knew that the best way to get through to him was to not back down from his anger. “Not everyone who fucking asks if you’re okay is fucking pitying you, you asshole!”

Yaoyorozu then stepped between them. “Boys, please! Yelling at each other isn’t going to get us back on the path.”

Bakugou just snarled at him again before stomping off.

They quickly followed, Shinsou switching between fury and worry as he looked at his friend. Bakugou’s breath was coming a little faster than usual as they walked, and his skin was flushed red. But at the same time, Bakugou seemed his normal, cranky, asshole self. Though, he also knew that Bakugou would never tell them he wasn’t feeling well. Damn bastard. At this point, Shinsou didn’t even know whether or not he even should be worried. He didn’t think Bakugou was a liar, and he seemed very convinced that he was fine.

Suddenly, Bakugou stopped, and his hand came to his forehead.

When he didn’t speak, Yaoyorozu did. “Um, Bakugou? Is everything alright?”

Bakugou didn’t answer her.

Too late, Shinsou realized Bakugou was tilting to the side, and he watched in horror as Bakugou’s legs seemed to give out. His newly trained hero instincts had him moving before he could even process what was happening, his arms immediately wrapping around Bakugou’s body. But even with the strength training he’d been doing, he couldn’t stop them both from crashing to the ground, Shinsou doing his best to clutch Bakugou’s head to his chest, doing his best to protect his friend.

“Bakugou!”  “Kacchan!”

Kaminari and Yaoyorozu rushed to their side, and Shinsou pulled himself up a little, still holding Bakugou close to his chest, adjusting so he was laying up against a nearby tree. Hands came to Bakugou’s shoulders, his waist, and together he and Yaoyorozu turned the unconscious blond over. Bakugou’s head lolled limply, and Shinsou’s heart began to pound in his chest.

“Fuck, he feels like he’s on fire.” Shinsou murmured, pressing his hand to Bakugou’s forehead. “And I think he stopped sweating.”

“His heart and breathing are also going too fast.” Yaoyorozu added, her face set in a serious expression. “I think he has heat stroke.”

Shinsou’s stomach twisted painfully with dread. Irritability and agitation were also a sign of heat stroke, and Shinsou had just chalked it up to Bakugou just being an asshole. Dammit, he knew something was wrong with Bakugou, and he let Bakugou’s attitude deter him from checking on his friend. Dammit.

“Heat stroke? Isn’t that the really serious one?” Kaminari asked, fear evident in his voice.

Yaoyorozu nodded grimly. “Yes. It means his body temperature is over 40 (104) degrees. We need to cool him down immediately.”

“The river.” Shinsou said, and Yaoyorozu and Kaminari nodded.

Shinsou stood up, and grabbed Bakugou’s right arm, as Kaminari grabbed his left. Together, they hauled Bakugou up, slinging his arms over their shoulders and grabbing Bakugou’s waist, running as quickly as they could to the river. Bakugou’s feet dragged limply as they ran, and Shinsou just tried to focus on getting to the river. Bakugou would be okay, they just had to cool him down. The river was close, they just had to get him there.

“Okay, so should we just toss him in or something?” Kaminari asked, clearly panicking a little. Shinsou didn’t blame him. He’d known 1A long enough to know that when something bad happened, they looked to Bakugou (and Midoriya and Todoroki) for the game plan, Kaminari and the Bakusquad especially. And he knew how Kaminari studied, which is to say not at all, so poor Kaminari must feel like he has absolutely no idea of what to do.

“No, we need to ease him in gently, otherwise we might put him into shock.” Yaoyorozu said. Then she shifted a little nervously. “And… we need to take his clothes off.”

Awkwardness hung heavy in the air for a moment. But then Shinsou just took a deep breath, and nodded. None of them wanted to do this, but it had to be done. “Alright. Yaomomo, you get his shirt off, and then Denki and I will get his pants.”

Shinsou watched Yaoyorozu’s nimble fingers undo the buttons on Bakugou’s white shirt, exposing more and more of his skin as she went. They wrangled Bakugou’s limp arms out of his shirt, and then he and Kaminari laid Bakugou down onto the ground. Shinsou’s hands shook a little as he unbuckled Bakugou’s belt, and then the buttons on his pants. Kaminari and Yaoyorozu lifted his waist so Shinsou could slide the fabric down Bakugou’s body, then they took off Bakugou’s shoes and socks, setting them aside so Shinsou could place the other clothes on them.

After taking a few moments to splash the river water onto Bakugou’s heated skin, all three of them carefully maneuvered Bakugou into the cool water. Slowly, they laid Bakugou down to where the water was coming up just below his shoulders. The blond made a soft sound as they did, but he didn’t seem to wake fully. Shinsou’s stomach twisted hard with dread again.

Yaoyorozu pulled a rag out of her chest. She dipped it into the water and wrung it out before placing it on Bakugou’s forehead. She then took a big, deep breath before her chest sparkled as she pulled a sunbrella out, which Kaminari set up to cast them into shadow. “Okay, that should be good for now. It’s not ideal, but this should keep him from overheating even further, and should hopefully bring his temperature down.”

Shinsou didn’t like how Yaoyorozu was saying ‘should’, but it was the best they had. A hand suddenly came to his shoulder, and when he faced it, Kaminari was looking at him with a sad smile.

“Don’t worry, ‘Toshi. He’ll be alright. He always is. He’s Bakugou. If he could survive like twelve villain attacks, then heat’s got nothing on him.”

Shinsou nodded softly, grateful for his friend’s optimism. “We need to get back to the teachers, they can take him back to the mainland and get him actual help.”

“I mean, that’s a good plan, ‘Toshi, but going back to the river made us even more lost.” Kaminari sighed. “Wait, Yaomomo, can you make, like, a GPS or something? Something that could find the teachers?”

“Well, I could make a GPS but that would only tell us where we are.” Yaoyorozu murmured. “I could make one if someone decides to go looking for the teachers, that would lead them back to us. But it wouldn’t make us any less lost.”

Kaminari deflated a little. Shinsou put his hand on Kaminari’s shoulder and squeezed.

“We’ll figure this out, Denks.” Shinsou tried for a smile. “We just need to put our heads together. We’re smart, we can think of something.”

A sudden noise caught all of their attention, and Bakugou’s crimson eyes fluttered open a little. Oh thank god. As much as Shinsou had studied hero coursework, being trapped on an island away from all medical help and other people with someone with heat stroke hadn’t exactly been covered. Shinsou was really relieved that Bakugou would be back to be able to guide them back to camp.

But when Shinsou’s eyes met Bakugou’s, his heart sank. Unfocused crimson was dull with haze, and Shinsou’s shoulders slumped. Bakugou’s mouth moved for a moment with no sound before he croaked out a quiet, “water.”

Everyone scrambled to grab their water bottles, and since Shinsou’s was the only one with a straw, it was quickly decided that that would be the one used, and Shinsou brought it to Bakugou’s lips. Yaoyorozu positioned herself behind Bakugou, lifting him gently so his head rested in her lap. Shinsou pressed the straw to Bakugou’s lips, and he took a sip.

“Come on, Bakugou, just a little more.” Shinsou softly coaxed, keeping his water bottle at Bakugou’s lips.

Bakugou made a hushed noise of negation. “Mm… mm. Feel sick.”

“The water will help, Bakugou, come on.” Shinsou said. When Bakugou refused again, his voice still slightly slurred, a terrible idea came into his head.

It seemed that Kaminari had the same idea as he said, “Um, Hitosh? Maybe you should use your quirk.”

Shinsou looked to Yaoyorozu, who he trusted with making this decision. He wouldn’t dare use his quirk without everyone agreeing.

“He really does need the water.” Yaoyorozu sighed. “Feeling sick is a symptom of heat stroke, and he needs the hydration to combat it.”

Shinsou’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded. He hated using his quirk like this, when the innocent person he was using it on wasn’t consenting, but it was for the greater good.

Bakugou, please, just drink a little more.” Shinsou pleaded with him one last time, wanting to save using his quirk as a last resort.

Again, Bakugou refused, turning his head away from the water bottle. It broke his heart, but when the blond murmured, “uh-uh,” Shinsou activated his quirk. He blanketed Bakugou’s mind with his quirk, calming Bakugou’s fierce willpower with a soft darkness. Bakugou’s mind was powerful, and if he was fully conscious Shinsou doubted he’d be able to get control of Bakugou. But he wasn’t fully conscious, he was suffering and dehydrated, so Shinsou easily got a hold of Bakugou’s mind.

“Drink five small sips of water.” Shinsou commanded, using careful language. He always had to be careful in the language he used on those he controlled, as vagueness just left them confused and disoriented, able to fight back.

As commanded, Bakugou drank five more sips of water, and Shinsou used his quirk to soften the edges of the illness Bakguou was feeling right now, able to feel his own stomach rolling as Bakgou’s did. But the power of telepathy behind his quirk also let Shinsou soothe neural impulses, and he could ease the nausea within Bakugou to keep him drinking without issue.

“Is that enough?” Shinsou whispered, not breaking eye contact with Bakugou. “Has he had enough?”

He could feel his friends’ discomfort as they watched him control Bakugou, even if it was necessary, and he hated it. He wanted it over with as quickly as possible, for all their sakes.

“M-may… maybe a little more?” Yaoyorozu responded after a moment. “I-I can’t tell if he’s hydrated enough.”

“Drink five more small sips of water.” Shinsou commanded, and Bakugou instantly complied.

Shinsou felt Bakugou’s mind wavering, and he knew Bakugou was close to passing out again, so he withdrew his mind from Bakugou’s. Still, it took a moment to meet his friends’ eyes again. He knew they wouldn’t blame him for doing that, but it didn’t make him feel any less lousy for needing to control Bakugou to get him to drink some damn water. He just hung his head for a minute, needing to gather his courage to look Kaminari and Yaoyorozu in the eye again.

“H-hey, he’s shivering.” Kaminari said, which caused Shinsou to look up at the electric blond. “Does that mean the water is too cold?”

“No I don’t think so.” Yaoyorozu shook her head, feeling Bakugou’s cheeks and neck with the back of her hand. “He’s cooled down a little though. He’s not as hot as before.”

“Think we can chance moving him?” Shinsou asked, with a pit of dread in his stomach that the river wouldn’t help their friend for too much longer.

“I’m not sure.” Yaoyorozu worried at her lip. “If we weren’t lost, I’d think we could, but we still have no idea how far our base camp is from here. We can’t take him and look for help for more than… I’d say a half an hour. It would just make him worse.”

“Then you guys stay here.” Kaminari said, suddenly standing. “I’m gonna go look for help.”

“Whoa, hey, Denki-”

“No, I got us lost, I need to get us unlost.” Kaminari said. “Kacchan needs a hospital where they can actually get him out of this humidity and actually cool him off and stuff. And Hitoshi, you need to be able to help Kacchan when he can’t do it himself and Yaomomo knows the most about heat stroke and can make anything he needs. I’m expendable, I need to go looking for someone who can help us get out of here.”

“You’re not expendable, Denki!” Shinsou argued, hating that what Kaminari was saying was making a little sense, but he refused to let his friend think so lowly of himself.

“Yes, Kaminari, Shinsou’s right. You’re not expendable. You’ve been incredibly helpful.”

“Well, I’m gonna go be more helpful.” Kaminari said resolutely, and Shinsou knew they wouldn’t be able to change his mind. Once any member of the Bakusquad set their minds to something, there was no talking them out of it. “Yaomomo, can I have that GPS?”

Shinsou and Yaoyorozu exchanged a glance, and he could see a resignation in her eyes that matched his own.

“Alright, but please be careful, Kaminari.” Yaoyorozu pleaded, and within moments, she handed him a fully functioning GPS system. “Walking alone in the woods seems to be inviting trouble.”

“I’ll be safe, Yaomomo.” Kaminari gave them a thumbs up, and unexpectedly, it did kinda make Shinsou feel better. “I’ll be real careful, I promise.”

Yaoyorozu then handed Kaminari a walkie talkie. “Take this too, so we can keep in contact.”

“Check in like every five minutes, dude.” Shinsou said, his worry clearly shining through. “And make sure to drink lots of water.”

“I will. Just stay here, guys, I’ll get help.” Kaminari said, giving them both a look before turning and taking off. Shinsou watched with a heavy heart until Kaminari was out of sight. He knew that the park was uninhabited, but there was always the risk of getting injured or heat exhaustion or spooking a venomous animal. Kaminari could break his ankle or get bitten by a snake or fall down a crevasse or…

“He’ll be alright.” Yaoyorozu then said, startling him from his thoughts. “If there’s anything that Class 1-A is, it’s good in a crisis.”

Shinsou huffed softly. “Yeah. Guess Fate decided that I’m supposed to see that for myself.”

“Hey-o, my dudes, I’m still alive.” The walkie talkie then chirped and they giggled a little, Kaminari’s words breaking the tension a little.

“Glad to hear it, man.” Shinsou said into their receiver.

Silence followed for a little while, but it wasn’t as awkward as Shinsou was used to. Most silences around him were awkward, people wanting too much from him or no one feeling comfortable around him, but for some reason, it was a calm silence, like how when he sat with Bakugou on the couch. If Bakugou hadn’t been so sick, it would’ve been almost nice.

As an amount of time that Shinsou wasn’t sure of passed, he and Yaoyorozu just kept tending to Bakugou. Re-soaking the cloth on his forehead with cool water, gently splashing his exposed skin, adjusting the sunbrella to keep the sun off of them. Bakugou regained consciousness a couple of times, and Shinsou was able to get him to drink a little bit more water, but he never stayed awake long enough for much else. Kaminari routinely checked in with them, telling them that he was fine, and venting a little about how all trees look alike. Shinsou just prayed that Kaminari wasn’t getting any more lost.

“I’m- I’m sorry guys, I feel like I’ve passed this tree like four times, I can’t- hey! Guys! Over here!” Kaminari shouted through the walkie talkie, and both Shinsou and Yaoyorozu perked up.

“What’s going on, Kaminari?” Yaoyorozu asked.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I finally found you guys, I’ve been searching for forever!” Kaminari said, not answering the question.

“Where the hell have you guys been, man?!” That was Kirishima, worry evident in his tone. Kaminari had found their class again! “We’ve been looking for you guys for over an hour!”

“Kacchan got heat stroke, we had to go to the river to cool him down, and we got lost.” Kaminari said desperately. “But- but don’t worry, Yaomomo made me a GPS thingy, it’ll lead us straight back to them!”

“Then let’s waste no time.” Shinsou was a little surprised to hear their teacher’s voice, but he supposed that when students were missing, Aizawa-sensei would never let his students search alone. “Lead us back to your group, Kaminari.”

“Yes, sir, Aizawa-sensei sir!”

“Thank goodness.” Yaoyorozu murmured, softly stroking Bakugou’s cheek almost absentmindedly. “I was beginning to get really worried.”

Shinsou nodded, his body untensing as relief flooded through him. “Yeah, me too.”

After a bit, Kaminari shouted through the walkie talkie. “Guys! Guys! The GPS thingy says we’ll be at your location in three minutes.”

“Understood, Kaminari, and thank you.” Yaoyorozu answered.

Aizawa must have taken the walkie talkie because it was his voice that echoed through next. “How’s Bakugou?” 

“Still unconscious, but he’s better than when he first passed out.” Yaoyorozu replied. “His shivering has calmed down a little, and we’ve been able to get him to drink some water when he does wake up.”

“Well done.”

Once everyone arrived, Shinsou thought it was like a sort of controlled chaos. Everyone else must have returned on time, as Aizawa had been walking with their whole class, probably to keep everyone together, and so many people immediately rushed in to help. Kirishima picked Bakugou up, Todoroki brushed a thin layer of ice over Bakugou’s skin, Sero grabbed all of Bakugou’s clothes, Midoriya and the girls immediately worried over both he and Yaoyorozu, checking over them as Aizawa checked over Bakugou. It was a lot of stimulation at once, and kinda overwhelming, but then Kaminari put a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder and squeezed gently, grounding him a little, and Shinsou managed a small smile.

As they headed back to the boat, with Bakugou in Kirishima’s arms, Shinsou finally felt a sense of tranquility come over him, safe in the knowledge that soon they’d be back in their air conditioned dormitory and Bakugou would be in an air conditioned hospital room. While they walked, Shinsou couldn’t help but find himself drawn to Bakugou’s slack face. It was strange, his blank face looked almost peaceful, serene. It was the gentlest expression he thought he’d ever seen on Bakugou. He wondered if the blond could tell that he was surrounded by friends and safety as they walked. He hoped so.

When Bakugou woke up later in Recovery Girl’s office, Shinsou would be there waiting for him.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

When the Past Comes Calling, I Can't Breathe

Day 1 Panic Attack, Day 2 Trust Issues, Day 11 Loneliness, Day 13 Team as Family, Day 14 Left for Dead, Day 15 Childhood Trauma, Day 28 Exposure

When an old "friend" of Katsuki's resurfaces, he tries hard to keep that sludge villain incident a secret from his squad. Unfortunately, it's harder said than done.

Class 1-A had been kept inside of UA’s walls for a while, and as soon as they were given the greenlight to finally go out again now that they all had their provisional licenses, Katsuki’s extras roped him into a trip to the arcade. He hadn’t wanted to go with them, but one of the conditions Aizawa-sensei had set was they had to go in groups, and his extras were some of the few in their class that Katsuki could stand, so he was left with little choice. The allure of going outside and not having people stare at him or whisper about him just out of earshot was worth dealing with his extras being overly excited and overdramatic for a little while. They’d gone back to their system of having one person choose their destination, as they had done before the dorm system, and it was Sero’s turn. He’d chosen to go to the arcade, and Katsuki figured at least he’d have some fun wiping the floor with his extras at all the games.

Somehow, the day had actually been going rather smoothly, as they hadn’t gotten kicked out yet, they hadn’t broken anything in their enthusiasm, and the only time they air hockey puck went off of the table, which surprisingly hadn’t been his fault, no one had gotten hurt. Katsuki had actually smiled a couple of times after watching his extras play, and seeing their disappointed faces whenever he won. He really should’ve known better than to trust and let his guard down a little thinking it would just be a simple day with his extras. His life was never that easy anymore.

“Hey, Katsuki. Long time no see.”

Katsuki went completely still, his heart beginning to pound in his chest as a voice he hadn’t heard in months drifted back into his ears.

“Come on, Katsuki, don’t ignore me. We’ve been friends for too long for that.”

Katsuki’s temper flared at that, feeling like he wanted to tear the bastard’s face off, but he tried his best to keep his anger under control. His fists however seemed to have different ideas, and he only noticed he’d been crushing his cup when soda started to spill down his hand.

He took a shaky, deep breath, turned towards the bastard, and said, “I have no idea who you are. Leave me alone.” Then he turned to his extras, who had mercifully been very absorbed in the shooting game they’d been playing, and just muttered, “I’m getting another drink.”

His extras acknowledged him briefly, and he stormed off to the nearest trash can, hoping that the damn bastard would get the hint and leave him alone. But it seemed the bastard was just as stupid as he was in middle school, and followed him.

“Don’t be such an asshole, Katsuki. Just because I didn’t end up going to UA doesn’t mean you can ignore me now.”

Katsuki whirled around, facing Koshinuke, his heart still pounding in his chest from anger and an emotion he was trying to smother with anger. He wanted to scream in this fucker’s face, he wanted to tear his throat out, but he couldn’t, that would draw too much attention, so he just settled on a low growl filled with hatred. “I told you, I don’t know who you are, leave me alone.”

Koshinuke rolled his eyes, and lightly glared at him. “You can’t just pretend you don’t know me, asshole. Come on, we’ve been friends for years, and suddenly when you get into UA, you just block everyone and drop off the face of the planet? Not cool, man.”

Katsuki’s hand clenched even harder on the paper cup, and he threw it into the trash can as hard as he could, some drops of soda still spilling down his hand. “I won’t tell you again, leave me the fuck alone.”

“What? Are you afraid to be seen with me with your big shot UA friends, or something?” Koshinuke asked presumptuously. “You can’t just ignore the past.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened as keeping his temper under control became even harder. Middle school Katsuki probably would’ve blown him up, but he didn’t want to ruin today for his extras, they’d been so restless and antsy being kept inside the dorms all the time. If he used his quirk, they’d get kicked out and he just couldn’t do that to his extras.

“You have no right to bring up the past with me, you selfish bastard.” Katsuki hissed, his voice full of venom. “You ever think I fucking blocked you because I didn’t want to fucking talk to you ever again after what you did to me?”

Koshinuke scoffed. “Seriously, dude, are you still mad about that? That was forever ago.”

“Time makes no goddamn difference, you abandoned me to that thing.” Katsuki growled, some of his emotions leaking into his voice.

“We knew you’d be okay.” Koshinuke dismissed. “You’re Bakugou Katsuki, you can do anything. You always said you could.”

“Don’t throw my own fucking words back in my face, you traitorous bastard!” Katsuki’s heart was beating so loud, everyone in this arcade should’ve been able to hear it, and he didn’t think it was only from righteous anger.

“Ugh, why are you still so mad about that, Katsuki?” Koshinuke sighed as if Katsuki was annoying him. “You’re fine now. You got into UA, you’re becoming a hero, everything you always said you’d do, you did. It’s not like it really did anything to you.”

“That’s not the goddamn point.” Katsuki sneered. “And stop calling me Katsuki, you lost that right a long time ago.”

“Why are you being so sensitive, dude?” Koshinuke groaned. “I swear, you’re sounding like pathetic Deku or something.”

Katsuki had never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly in his life. His body was trembling with anger, his heart was beating out of his chest, and his fingernails were digging into his palms as he tried his best to keep his anger under control.

“ You left me there to die. ” Katsuki whispered out, his voice gravelly and rough as his throat closed as he spoke.

“This guy bothering you, man?” Katsuki was startled to hear Kirishima, but his extras were suddenly behind him, looking mildly upset. They must have finished their game and gone looking for him when he hadn’t returned.

“We’re old friends from middle school.” Koshinuke said, smiling in a way that made Katsuki want to stab him in the eye.

“No we’re not.” Katsuki stated flatly. “And yes, he is bothering me. I told him to leave me alone, get him out of my sight before I blow this whole damn building.”

The words had thankfully come out like an order, but there had been an inflection in his voice he hadn’t wanted. He just hoped his extras chalked it up to him being ridiculously angry.

“You heard him, beat it.” Kaminari said, looking as serious as he could be. In any other situation, Katsuki would’ve found it hilarious. “Kacchan doesn’t want you around.”

“Yeah, leave us alone, dude.” Sero said. “We don’t want any drama, okay?

Koshinuke seemed affronted by his extras. “Katsuki, come on, we’re friends-”

“Don’t make us get the security guard.” Kirishima interrupted, crossing his arms. “Bakugou told you to leave him alone, I suggest you listen this time. Trust me, man, you don’t want this fight.”

Koshinuke looked between his extras, still looking offended, but when all of his extras glared right back, moving closer to him as if to protect him, something they’d started after Kamino, he finally backed off to Katsuki’s relief.

“Fine, whatever, man. Guess you’re still the same asshole you always were.” Koshinuke scoffed, sneering at him. “Hope you all enjoy being an asshole’s lapdog.”

Koshinuke put his hands in his pockets and stormed off. Katsuki was still trembling with anger, but hopefully his heart would calm down soon. He wasn’t sure why it was beating so fast, it didn’t usually, but he hadn’t been this angry since Ground Beta.

“You okay, dude? You seem really upset.” Kirishima said, placing his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off.

“I’m fine. The fucker just wouldn’t leave me alone.” Katsuki said, still glaring at the bastard’s back as he walked away. He held up his hand, which was still covered in sticky soda, and he just sighed in annoyance. “Need to fucking wash my hands. I’ll be back.”

Before his extras could say anything, he stalked off the bathroom, trying to hide how his hands were shaking. He ran his hands under the cold water, scrubbing them intensely, and tried to push the interaction out of his mind. His breathing was coming faster and faster, and his heart was beating so hard in his chest it was painful. His wet hands then came to his throat, clawing at it as breathing suddenly became much, much harder than it should be.

Suppressed memories started to break through to his mind’s eye, flashing across his eyes and devastating them with his power. The sight of his shaking hands in the shower as he scrubbed his body raw trying to get rid of the feeling of sludge all over his body, his stomach rolling as he still felt disgusting no matter how hard he scrubbed. The panic that had been caused by the attack, the fires that had started, the way his quirk had turned from a defensive measure into an uncontrollable weapon for the villain. Coughing as much as he was breathing, feeling the villain’s sludge go down his throat, only being allowed to breathe on the villain’s terms. His friends staring in terror at the monstrosity swirling around him, his arm still outstretched as he silently begged for their help. Watching in horror as the people he thought were friends turned around and ran away from him, abandoning him to be at the villain’s mercy, letting his body get swallowed by the darkness he couldn’t escape on his own.

Katsuki crashed to his knees, his soapy hands still clawing at his throat, his heart beating so hard it must be cracking his ribs. Up until that point, Katsuki had never felt so close to death, and now it felt like he was right back there, his body trembling and weakening from the inescapable power of the memories that seemed to be slowly killing him.

“-kugou! Bakugou! Katsuki!” A strange hand grasped his, holding it tightly.

Instinctively, Katsuki’s quirk went off, as if trying to protect himself from a threat he couldn’t recognize. But the hand stayed, unaffected by his explosion, and another hand then cupped his cheek. Again, Katsuki’s hand came to the foreign feeling, setting off another firecracker. Again, the hand didn’t pull away, and Katsuki didn’t know why.

It took a little bit, but eventually Katsuki recognized a red blur, recognizing the color of Kirishima’s hair anywhere. He blinked hard, just now realizing that he was crying and that was why he couldn’t see, trying to focus on the sight of his friend to keep him grounded.

“You can do it, Katsuki, just try to breathe with me, okay?” Kirishima said, pulling Katsuki’s hand to Kirishima’s chest. He breathed in slowly, a soft voice besides them counting to four, and then breathed out as the voice counted to seven.

Breath slowly scraped through Katsuki’s lungs, his body still trembling as he tried his best to focus on his friends. The voice belonged to Mina, who wore the same worried expression that Kirishima did as Katsuki became dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

“Maybe we should call Aizawa-sensei.” He heard Sero whisper to Kirishima. “Or take him to the hospital, he’s not calming down.”

Katsuki whimpered as he shook his head quickly, as the thought of someone else seeing him like this made his skin crawl. He was still gasping for air, but he managed to whisper, “no hospitals.”

“Katsuki, you’re having a panic attack.” Kirishima said, still squeezing his hands. Ah, Kirishima had his quirk activated on his hands, that’s why the explosions hadn’t worked. As much as he didn’t want to be touched right now, he was somewhat glad he hadn’t hurt his friend. “I really think you need to go to the hospital.”

He shook his head again, his stomach twisting painfully, knowing that a trip to the hospital would only lead to negative outcomes. “Please. No hospitals.”

Kirishima bit his lip with his shark teeth, and Katsuki saw the uncertainty in his friends’ faces. The tiny part of his logical mind that wasn’t being drowned out by panic told him he needed to calm down or his friends would take him to the hospital. While the panic was still strong, while his body still trembled, he tried to match the four-seven breathing pattern Kirishima and Mina had shown him. Encouraged by Katsuki’s attempts, Kirishima squeezed his hand again and started breathing deeply again, keeping Katsuki’s hand pressed against his chest.

Katsuki wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually his breathing finally calmed down to meet the four-seven pattern his friends were giving him. The dizziness that had sent his stomach rolling finally calmed down, and while stray tears were still streaming down his cheeks, he could finally breathe again, letting him think clearly.

“You back with us, Bakugou?” Kirishima’s voice was barely a whisper, as if afraid to set him off again.

Katsuki wanted to shove his friends away, to scream at them to leave him alone, but he didn’t have the strength to. Instead he just nodded, still panting.

“Are you okay, Kacchan?” Kaminari asked, and Katsuki just glared at him. He nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, got it, stupid question, shutting up.”

“Okay, what the hell just happened?” Mina asked, staring at him with her raccoon eyes, emotion shining within them.

“‘Ts nothing.” Katsuki muttered.

“Bullshit, you don’t have panic attacks for nothing.” Kirishima said, and he wondered when his friends had gotten so good at calling him out. “Come on, dude, you gotta tell us what happened. We’re your friends. Did that guy hurt you or something?”

Katsuki shook his head, and thought for a moment. His extras were like dogs with bones, once they were on the trail of something, they never let it go. He hated revealing any weaknesses to anyone, but he supposed they had just talked him down from a panic attack, and they’d want to ‘help’ him. But since he still didn’t want to talk, his still shaking hand felt around for his phone for a moment, and then pulled it out. He searched up the story, as he knew it had made the news, and then held his phone out for them to read.

His friends looked confused, but they took the phone from him. All of his friends crowded around so they could all read the article.

“All Might defeats sludge type villain… hey wait a minute I remember this, it was on the news.” Sero said, staring at the phone with a puzzled expression before his eyes went wide and his voice became incredulous. “Wait a minute, that was you? ”

Katsuki just nodded curtly.

“Oh my god, this is about you? ” Mina said, gesturing to the article. “You were the one that he…”

Katsuki nodded again.

His friends’ faces went white and he looked down at the floor, unable to take the emotions in their eyes. Kirishima squeezed his hand again, disarming his quirk so he just felt his friend’s calloused skin.

“Dude, I’m so sorry- I, I mean,” Kirishima sputtered, “We’re glad you’re okay.”

“Are… you okay?” Kaminari asked hesitantly.

Katsuki nodded again, even if his body was still trembling and the occasional tear still ran down his cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kirishima said, his voice sounding far too sincere for Katsuki to handle. “We’re your friends, you can tell us stuff like this. We’re here to support you.”

Katsuki glared at Kirishima. “It was none of your business.”

Kirishima winced as if he’d been expecting that answer.

“But… wait a minute.” Sero said. “If this happened because you got attacked by a villain, then… what does that guy have to do with it?”

Katsuki squirmed a little uncomfortably. “Just drop it, okay? This has nothing to do with you. It’s none of your business.”

That got him looks from all of his friends.

“Bakugou, we’re your friends.” Kirishima said. “When some random asshole hurts you, we’re here to help you. We care about you.”

“Besides, it kinda became our business when we needed to talk you down from a panic attack.” Sero said plainly.

“Yeah. So stop being mister stoic and secretive and emotionally repressed for a little bit, okay?” Mina added. “Just talk to us.”

“I’m not emotionally repressed.” Katsuki murmured petulantly.

“Kacchan, you’re the king of being emotionally repressed.” Kaminari deadpanned. “Come on, man. We- we need to know why we need to beat up that guy if we ever see him again.”

That got Katsuki to snort, chuckling a little at his friend’s idiocy. Katsuki took a deep breath and sighed. His stomach was still twisting painfully, but his heart was at least calming a little being surrounded by his friends. There was still a part of him that wanted to scrub his skin raw again, but it was calming down the longer his friends’ spent hovering over him.

“I… was walking home like I always did. Was hanging out with that bastard and another idiot from middle school. We were… taking a shortcut, deciding what to do for the day. We… went into this alleyway, and then this wall of sludge came up from the sewers. Grabs me. And those two fucking cowards… they turned and ran at the first fucking sign of trouble. Left me to deal with it alone. I was fine, of course, All Might was right around the corner, it was nothing, but… I couldn’t forgive them for just leaving me there. Haven’t talked to them since.”

Katsuki kept his eyes on the ground, able to sense his friends’ godawful pity in their eyes without needing to see it. His friends knew him well enough that that last bit of bravado was fake. He could tell by how hard Kirishima was squeezing his hand.

“That’s so horrible.” Mina said, her voice wavering a little. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“I told you, it was nothing!” Katsuki snapped.

“Oh yeah, it was totally nothing.” Sero muttered, rolling his eyes and glaring at him. “It was so nothing that you were sent into a panic attack just by seeing that asshole again.”

Katsuki matched his glare. Sero didn’t back down.

“So we’re totally actually beating them up if we ever see them again, right?” Kaminari asked, breaking the tension a little.

Katsuki breathed out a soft chuckle. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“We’re not saying you need us to fight your battles.” Sero smirked. “We’re just saying that if we ever see those guys again, they’re just gonna accidentally get punched in the face a couple dozen times. No biggie.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Katsuki scoffed quietly.

“Yeah, but trust me, we want to.” Kaminari said with a soft, idiotic smirk. “No one abandons our Kacchan to die and gets away with it.”

Katuki’s eyes went wide, looking at Kaminari in shock. “What… did you just say?”

“Oh um. When- when we were walking over to you after I kicked Sero’s ass-”

There was a soft interruption of “We fucking tied! That last kill didn’t count!”

A beat.

“After I finished kicking Sero’s ass, I um, kinda heard you say that he- that he left you for dead.” Kaminari said, obviously trying to be light despite the subject matter, trying to play it off as if it was nothing. “So yeah, we’re gonna punch those guys, like, a lot. They fucking suck.”

Katsuki flushed red, unaware that his friends had heard that part of the conversation. Fuck. He opened his mouth to dismiss his own words, but he couldn’t come up with anything that would actually work. Fuck.

Kirishima squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay, Bakugou. You don’t have to say anything.”

Kirishima then let go of him and stood up. “I think we should all go home. I’m kinda tired. What about you guys?”

“No.” Katsuki said. “You were all so excited to get out of the dorms for a little while. I’m fine, let’s go back to playing.”

His legs were still shaking a little, but Katsuki managed to get himself up. His friends hovered over him a little, as if waiting to catch him if he fell. Katsuki held his head up, and looked them all in the eye. His friends’ exchanged a couple of worried glances, but they eventually nodded, letting him not be held back by this as he wanted.

“Yeah, sure, man.” Sero said. “I say Kami owes me a rematch from earlier, we fucking tied!”

Katsuki felt a tiny smile grace his lips, and then Kirishima slung an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder. This time, Katsuki let it stay a whole three seconds longer than he usually did.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

When the Past Comes Calling, I Can't Breathe

Day 1 Panic Attack, Day 2 Trust Issues, Day 11 Loneliness, Day 13 Team as Family, Day 14 Left for Dead, Day 15 Childhood Trauma, Day 28 Exposure

When an old "friend" of Katsuki's resurfaces, he tries hard to keep that sludge villain incident a secret from his squad. Unfortunately, it's harder said than done.

Class 1-A had been kept inside of UA’s walls for a while, and as soon as they were given the greenlight to finally go out again now that they all had their provisional licenses, Katsuki’s extras roped him into a trip to the arcade. He hadn’t wanted to go with them, but one of the conditions Aizawa-sensei had set was they had to go in groups, and his extras were some of the few in their class that Katsuki could stand, so he was left with little choice. The allure of going outside and not having people stare at him or whisper about him just out of earshot was worth dealing with his extras being overly excited and overdramatic for a little while. They’d gone back to their system of having one person choose their destination, as they had done before the dorm system, and it was Sero’s turn. He’d chosen to go to the arcade, and Katsuki figured at least he’d have some fun wiping the floor with his extras at all the games.

Somehow, the day had actually been going rather smoothly, as they hadn’t gotten kicked out yet, they hadn’t broken anything in their enthusiasm, and the only time they air hockey puck went off of the table, which surprisingly hadn’t been his fault, no one had gotten hurt. Katsuki had actually smiled a couple of times after watching his extras play, and seeing their disappointed faces whenever he won. He really should’ve known better than to trust and let his guard down a little thinking it would just be a simple day with his extras. His life was never that easy anymore.

“Hey, Katsuki. Long time no see.”

Katsuki went completely still, his heart beginning to pound in his chest as a voice he hadn’t heard in months drifted back into his ears.

“Come on, Katsuki, don’t ignore me. We’ve been friends for too long for that.”

Katsuki’s temper flared at that, feeling like he wanted to tear the bastard’s face off, but he tried his best to keep his anger under control. His fists however seemed to have different ideas, and he only noticed he’d been crushing his cup when soda started to spill down his hand.

He took a shaky, deep breath, turned towards the bastard, and said, “I have no idea who you are. Leave me alone.” Then he turned to his extras, who had mercifully been very absorbed in the shooting game they’d been playing, and just muttered, “I’m getting another drink.”

His extras acknowledged him briefly, and he stormed off to the nearest trash can, hoping that the damn bastard would get the hint and leave him alone. But it seemed the bastard was just as stupid as he was in middle school, and followed him.

“Don’t be such an asshole, Katsuki. Just because I didn’t end up going to UA doesn’t mean you can ignore me now.”

Katsuki whirled around, facing Koshinuke, his heart still pounding in his chest from anger and an emotion he was trying to smother with anger. He wanted to scream in this fucker’s face, he wanted to tear his throat out, but he couldn’t, that would draw too much attention, so he just settled on a low growl filled with hatred. “I told you, I don’t know who you are, leave me alone.”

Koshinuke rolled his eyes, and lightly glared at him. “You can’t just pretend you don’t know me, asshole. Come on, we’ve been friends for years, and suddenly when you get into UA, you just block everyone and drop off the face of the planet? Not cool, man.”

Katsuki’s hand clenched even harder on the paper cup, and he threw it into the trash can as hard as he could, some drops of soda still spilling down his hand. “I won’t tell you again, leave me the fuck alone.”

“What? Are you afraid to be seen with me with your big shot UA friends, or something?” Koshinuke asked presumptuously. “You can’t just ignore the past.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened as keeping his temper under control became even harder. Middle school Katsuki probably would’ve blown him up, but he didn’t want to ruin today for his extras, they’d been so restless and antsy being kept inside the dorms all the time. If he used his quirk, they’d get kicked out and he just couldn’t do that to his extras.

“You have no right to bring up the past with me, you selfish bastard.” Katsuki hissed, his voice full of venom. “You ever think I fucking blocked you because I didn’t want to fucking talk to you ever again after what you did to me?”

Koshinuke scoffed. “Seriously, dude, are you still mad about that? That was forever ago.”

“Time makes no goddamn difference, you abandoned me to that thing.” Katsuki growled, some of his emotions leaking into his voice.

“We knew you’d be okay.” Koshinuke dismissed. “You’re Bakugou Katsuki, you can do anything. You always said you could.”

“Don’t throw my own fucking words back in my face, you traitorous bastard!” Katsuki’s heart was beating so loud, everyone in this arcade should’ve been able to hear it, and he didn’t think it was only from righteous anger.

“Ugh, why are you still so mad about that, Katsuki?” Koshinuke sighed as if Katsuki was annoying him. “You’re fine now. You got into UA, you’re becoming a hero, everything you always said you’d do, you did. It’s not like it really did anything to you.”

“That’s not the goddamn point.” Katsuki sneered. “And stop calling me Katsuki, you lost that right a long time ago.”

“Why are you being so sensitive, dude?” Koshinuke groaned. “I swear, you’re sounding like pathetic Deku or something.”

Katsuki had never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly in his life. His body was trembling with anger, his heart was beating out of his chest, and his fingernails were digging into his palms as he tried his best to keep his anger under control.

“ You left me there to die. ” Katsuki whispered out, his voice gravelly and rough as his throat closed as he spoke.

“This guy bothering you, man?” Katsuki was startled to hear Kirishima, but his extras were suddenly behind him, looking mildly upset. They must have finished their game and gone looking for him when he hadn’t returned.

“We’re old friends from middle school.” Koshinuke said, smiling in a way that made Katsuki want to stab him in the eye.

“No we’re not.” Katsuki stated flatly. “And yes, he is bothering me. I told him to leave me alone, get him out of my sight before I blow this whole damn building.”

The words had thankfully come out like an order, but there had been an inflection in his voice he hadn’t wanted. He just hoped his extras chalked it up to him being ridiculously angry.

“You heard him, beat it.” Kaminari said, looking as serious as he could be. In any other situation, Katsuki would’ve found it hilarious. “Kacchan doesn’t want you around.”

“Yeah, leave us alone, dude.” Sero said. “We don’t want any drama, okay?

Koshinuke seemed affronted by his extras. “Katsuki, come on, we’re friends-”

“Don’t make us get the security guard.” Kirishima interrupted, crossing his arms. “Bakugou told you to leave him alone, I suggest you listen this time. Trust me, man, you don’t want this fight.”

Koshinuke looked between his extras, still looking offended, but when all of his extras glared right back, moving closer to him as if to protect him, something they’d started after Kamino, he finally backed off to Katsuki’s relief.

“Fine, whatever, man. Guess you’re still the same asshole you always were.” Koshinuke scoffed, sneering at him. “Hope you all enjoy being an asshole’s lapdog.”

Koshinuke put his hands in his pockets and stormed off. Katsuki was still trembling with anger, but hopefully his heart would calm down soon. He wasn’t sure why it was beating so fast, it didn’t usually, but he hadn’t been this angry since Ground Beta.

“You okay, dude? You seem really upset.” Kirishima said, placing his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off.

“I’m fine. The fucker just wouldn’t leave me alone.” Katsuki said, still glaring at the bastard’s back as he walked away. He held up his hand, which was still covered in sticky soda, and he just sighed in annoyance. “Need to fucking wash my hands. I’ll be back.”

Before his extras could say anything, he stalked off the bathroom, trying to hide how his hands were shaking. He ran his hands under the cold water, scrubbing them intensely, and tried to push the interaction out of his mind. His breathing was coming faster and faster, and his heart was beating so hard in his chest it was painful. His wet hands then came to his throat, clawing at it as breathing suddenly became much, much harder than it should be.

Suppressed memories started to break through to his mind’s eye, flashing across his eyes and devastating them with his power. The sight of his shaking hands in the shower as he scrubbed his body raw trying to get rid of the feeling of sludge all over his body, his stomach rolling as he still felt disgusting no matter how hard he scrubbed. The panic that had been caused by the attack, the fires that had started, the way his quirk had turned from a defensive measure into an uncontrollable weapon for the villain. Coughing as much as he was breathing, feeling the villain’s sludge go down his throat, only being allowed to breathe on the villain’s terms. His friends staring in terror at the monstrosity swirling around him, his arm still outstretched as he silently begged for their help. Watching in horror as the people he thought were friends turned around and ran away from him, abandoning him to be at the villain’s mercy, letting his body get swallowed by the darkness he couldn’t escape on his own.

Katsuki crashed to his knees, his soapy hands still clawing at his throat, his heart beating so hard it must be cracking his ribs. Up until that point, Katsuki had never felt so close to death, and now it felt like he was right back there, his body trembling and weakening from the inescapable power of the memories that seemed to be slowly killing him.

“-kugou! Bakugou! Katsuki!” A strange hand grasped his, holding it tightly.

Instinctively, Katsuki’s quirk went off, as if trying to protect himself from a threat he couldn’t recognize. But the hand stayed, unaffected by his explosion, and another hand then cupped his cheek. Again, Katsuki’s hand came to the foreign feeling, setting off another firecracker. Again, the hand didn’t pull away, and Katsuki didn’t know why.

It took a little bit, but eventually Katsuki recognized a red blur, recognizing the color of Kirishima’s hair anywhere. He blinked hard, just now realizing that he was crying and that was why he couldn’t see, trying to focus on the sight of his friend to keep him grounded.

“You can do it, Katsuki, just try to breathe with me, okay?” Kirishima said, pulling Katsuki’s hand to Kirishima’s chest. He breathed in slowly, a soft voice besides them counting to four, and then breathed out as the voice counted to seven.

Breath slowly scraped through Katsuki’s lungs, his body still trembling as he tried his best to focus on his friends. The voice belonged to Mina, who wore the same worried expression that Kirishima did as Katsuki became dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

“Maybe we should call Aizawa-sensei.” He heard Sero whisper to Kirishima. “Or take him to the hospital, he’s not calming down.”

Katsuki whimpered as he shook his head quickly, as the thought of someone else seeing him like this made his skin crawl. He was still gasping for air, but he managed to whisper, “no hospitals.”

“Katsuki, you’re having a panic attack.” Kirishima said, still squeezing his hands. Ah, Kirishima had his quirk activated on his hands, that’s why the explosions hadn’t worked. As much as he didn’t want to be touched right now, he was somewhat glad he hadn’t hurt his friend. “I really think you need to go to the hospital.”

He shook his head again, his stomach twisting painfully, knowing that a trip to the hospital would only lead to negative outcomes. “Please. No hospitals.”

Kirishima bit his lip with his shark teeth, and Katsuki saw the uncertainty in his friends’ faces. The tiny part of his logical mind that wasn’t being drowned out by panic told him he needed to calm down or his friends would take him to the hospital. While the panic was still strong, while his body still trembled, he tried to match the four-seven breathing pattern Kirishima and Mina had shown him. Encouraged by Katsuki’s attempts, Kirishima squeezed his hand again and started breathing deeply again, keeping Katsuki’s hand pressed against his chest.

Katsuki wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually his breathing finally calmed down to meet the four-seven pattern his friends were giving him. The dizziness that had sent his stomach rolling finally calmed down, and while stray tears were still streaming down his cheeks, he could finally breathe again, letting him think clearly.

“You back with us, Bakugou?” Kirishima’s voice was barely a whisper, as if afraid to set him off again.

Katsuki wanted to shove his friends away, to scream at them to leave him alone, but he didn’t have the strength to. Instead he just nodded, still panting.

“Are you okay, Kacchan?” Kaminari asked, and Katsuki just glared at him. He nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, got it, stupid question, shutting up.”

“Okay, what the hell just happened?” Mina asked, staring at him with her raccoon eyes, emotion shining within them.

“‘Ts nothing.” Katsuki muttered.

“Bullshit, you don’t have panic attacks for nothing.” Kirishima said, and he wondered when his friends had gotten so good at calling him out. “Come on, dude, you gotta tell us what happened. We’re your friends. Did that guy hurt you or something?”

Katsuki shook his head, and thought for a moment. His extras were like dogs with bones, once they were on the trail of something, they never let it go. He hated revealing any weaknesses to anyone, but he supposed they had just talked him down from a panic attack, and they’d want to ‘help’ him. But since he still didn’t want to talk, his still shaking hand felt around for his phone for a moment, and then pulled it out. He searched up the story, as he knew it had made the news, and then held his phone out for them to read.

His friends looked confused, but they took the phone from him. All of his friends crowded around so they could all read the article.

“All Might defeats sludge type villain… hey wait a minute I remember this, it was on the news.” Sero said, staring at the phone with a puzzled expression before his eyes went wide and his voice became incredulous. “Wait a minute, that was you? ”

Katsuki just nodded curtly.

“Oh my god, this is about you? ” Mina said, gesturing to the article. “You were the one that he…”

Katsuki nodded again.

His friends’ faces went white and he looked down at the floor, unable to take the emotions in their eyes. Kirishima squeezed his hand again, disarming his quirk so he just felt his friend’s calloused skin.

“Dude, I’m so sorry- I, I mean,” Kirishima sputtered, “We’re glad you’re okay.”

“Are… you okay?” Kaminari asked hesitantly.

Katsuki nodded again, even if his body was still trembling and the occasional tear still ran down his cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kirishima said, his voice sounding far too sincere for Katsuki to handle. “We’re your friends, you can tell us stuff like this. We’re here to support you.”

Katsuki glared at Kirishima. “It was none of your business.”

Kirishima winced as if he’d been expecting that answer.

“But… wait a minute.” Sero said. “If this happened because you got attacked by a villain, then… what does that guy have to do with it?”

Katsuki squirmed a little uncomfortably. “Just drop it, okay? This has nothing to do with you. It’s none of your business.”

That got him looks from all of his friends.

“Bakugou, we’re your friends.” Kirishima said. “When some random asshole hurts you, we’re here to help you. We care about you.”

“Besides, it kinda became our business when we needed to talk you down from a panic attack.” Sero said plainly.

“Yeah. So stop being mister stoic and secretive and emotionally repressed for a little bit, okay?” Mina added. “Just talk to us.”

“I’m not emotionally repressed.” Katsuki murmured petulantly.

“Kacchan, you’re the king of being emotionally repressed.” Kaminari deadpanned. “Come on, man. We- we need to know why we need to beat up that guy if we ever see him again.”

That got Katsuki to snort, chuckling a little at his friend’s idiocy. Katsuki took a deep breath and sighed. His stomach was still twisting painfully, but his heart was at least calming a little being surrounded by his friends. There was still a part of him that wanted to scrub his skin raw again, but it was calming down the longer his friends’ spent hovering over him.

“I… was walking home like I always did. Was hanging out with that bastard and another idiot from middle school. We were… taking a shortcut, deciding what to do for the day. We… went into this alleyway, and then this wall of sludge came up from the sewers. Grabs me. And those two fucking cowards… they turned and ran at the first fucking sign of trouble. Left me to deal with it alone. I was fine, of course, All Might was right around the corner, it was nothing, but… I couldn’t forgive them for just leaving me there. Haven’t talked to them since.”

Katsuki kept his eyes on the ground, able to sense his friends’ godawful pity in their eyes without needing to see it. His friends knew him well enough that that last bit of bravado was fake. He could tell by how hard Kirishima was squeezing his hand.

“That’s so horrible.” Mina said, her voice wavering a little. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“I told you, it was nothing!” Katsuki snapped.

“Oh yeah, it was totally nothing.” Sero muttered, rolling his eyes and glaring at him. “It was so nothing that you were sent into a panic attack just by seeing that asshole again.”

Katsuki matched his glare. Sero didn’t back down.

“So we’re totally actually beating them up if we ever see them again, right?” Kaminari asked, breaking the tension a little.

Katsuki breathed out a soft chuckle. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“We’re not saying you need us to fight your battles.” Sero smirked. “We’re just saying that if we ever see those guys again, they’re just gonna accidentally get punched in the face a couple dozen times. No biggie.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Katsuki scoffed quietly.

“Yeah, but trust me, we want to.” Kaminari said with a soft, idiotic smirk. “No one abandons our Kacchan to die and gets away with it.”

Katuki’s eyes went wide, looking at Kaminari in shock. “What… did you just say?”

“Oh um. When- when we were walking over to you after I kicked Sero’s ass-”

There was a soft interruption of “We fucking tied! That last kill didn’t count!”

A beat.

“After I finished kicking Sero’s ass, I um, kinda heard you say that he- that he left you for dead.” Kaminari said, obviously trying to be light despite the subject matter, trying to play it off as if it was nothing. “So yeah, we’re gonna punch those guys, like, a lot. They fucking suck.”

Katsuki flushed red, unaware that his friends had heard that part of the conversation. Fuck. He opened his mouth to dismiss his own words, but he couldn’t come up with anything that would actually work. Fuck.

Kirishima squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay, Bakugou. You don’t have to say anything.”

Kirishima then let go of him and stood up. “I think we should all go home. I’m kinda tired. What about you guys?”

“No.” Katsuki said. “You were all so excited to get out of the dorms for a little while. I’m fine, let’s go back to playing.”

His legs were still shaking a little, but Katsuki managed to get himself up. His friends hovered over him a little, as if waiting to catch him if he fell. Katsuki held his head up, and looked them all in the eye. His friends’ exchanged a couple of worried glances, but they eventually nodded, letting him not be held back by this as he wanted.

“Yeah, sure, man.” Sero said. “I say Kami owes me a rematch from earlier, we fucking tied!”

Katsuki felt a tiny smile grace his lips, and then Kirishima slung an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder. This time, Katsuki let it stay a whole three seconds longer than he usually did.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Whumptober Masterlist

This is my first masterlist, but let's see if I can pull it off haha

Bakugou "Doesn't Get Sick"- Katsuki's fine. He's totally fine, it's just too hot outside. and inside. It's nothing, his headache is from dealing with everyone's bullshit, and getting annoyed at Todoroki for being his assigned partner. He's fine.

Prompts 1, 2, 3, 7, 13, and 15- Swooning, Thermometer/Delirium, "Make it stop", "Can you hear me?", Cold Compress, and "I'm fine"

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I'm Fine (Don't Peek Behind the Curtain)- Honestly, Shinsou hasn't been in class 1A for long, but god, it seems like Bakugou has the biggest case of 'main character syndrome' he's ever seen. His entire personality is just being an asshole, and Shinsou is already tired of it. But when a villain makes Bakugou's internal pain show externally, Shinsou sees just how wrong he was.

Prompt 4, 6, 22, and 29- Shock, Made to Watch, Watch Out, and Troubled Past Resurfacing

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Lost in the Darkness- Katsuki is already having a seriously shitty day when the building he, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Uraraka is in collapses. From there, everything just gets worse and worse. He should've known better, he said "today couldn't get any worse", and he jinxed himself.

Also known as trying to keep the blindfold on Katsuki as long as possible ;)

Prompt 5, 9, 10, 17, 18, and 30- Pinned Down, You're A Liar, Stranded, Touch Aversion, Blindfold, and Bridal Carry

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Stricken- Trying to rescue Kaminari from his own dumbassery, Katsuki gets struck by lightning.

Prompts 8, 11. 16, 25, 27- All the Things I've Done, "All the light's gone out and my hope's destroyed", Chasing Cars, Storm, and Scars

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Never Shall We Die- Katsuki walks the plank to save his crew, willing to die so they don't. Waking up on a beach alive wasn't something he'd thought possible, and his rescuer is even more inexplicable.

Prompts 14, 21, 24, and 28- Water Inhalation, Restraints, Goodbye Note, Sacrifice

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shidekobushi- Katsuki has a stalker who gives him something she shouldn't

Prompt 19 and 23- Floral Bouquet and Stalking

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Friends Are The Best Obvious Solution- Katsuki hasn't been able to properly sleep for a while, having nightmares that leave him unable to get back to sleep until he has to get up again. The squad notices something's wrong, and decide that they're gonna help no matter what Katsuki says.

Prompts 12, 20, 26, and 31- Insomnia, Found Family, "Sometimes I Get So Tired, I Don't Know Myself", and "I thought I was getting better"

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[bloodyfeverdreams]

Day 12, 20, 26, 31- Friends are the Best Obvious Solution

Prompts- Insomnia, Found Family, "Sometimes I Get so tired, I Don't Know Myself", and "I thought I was getting better"

Katsuki hasn't been able to properly sleep for a while, having nightmares that leave him unable to get back to sleep until he has to get up again. The squad notices something's wrong, and decide that they're gonna help no matter what Katsuki says.

ao3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/51255391

Katsuki couldn’t count the hours of sleep he’d lost in the past couple of weeks. He’d tried everything to help him sleep, all sorts of tea, white noise, melatonin, and even yoga and meditation. Nothing worked. Every day was becoming the same, go to bed at 8:30 like normal, fall asleep, have terrible nightmares, wake up terrified and shaking just past midnight, stare at the ceiling trying desperately to fall back asleep, fail, and then get up at five when his alarm goes off. He’d had this routine since getting to the dorms, it was very similar to his old routine except now he could train and shower instead of showering before getting on the train. He very much liked it, even with his friends calling him an old man for going to bed so early. He never cared about what they said anyways, they had shitty routines of their own, and he just laughed at them when they complained about being tired after going to bed at 2am. His routine was far superior, and let him get actual rest to be prepared for the next day.

Except now, he wasn’t getting any rest at all. He didn’t understand. The nightmares that had started after the sludge villain incident had died down, resurfacing with the USJ and Kamino, but they had died down again. Nothing violently traumatic had happened again, so the fact that they had come back with a vengeance made no sense. It had been months, he shouldn’t be having these nightmares! He’d moved on, everything was different now, and he should be fine!

But he wasn’t fine. Katsuki didn’t do well without sleep. Simple things that he’d never put any thought into, like taking notes or staying awake in class, had suddenly become very daunting tasks that he struggled with every day. It was even getting a little hard to read his own handwriting, though it was usually crisp and clear. At this point, it was only his pride that kept him from going to Recovery Girl or his family’s doctor for some sleeping medication. He was fucking Bakugou Katsuki, and he didn’t need fucking medication to do things he’s always done.

Though, his pride took a heavy blow in favor of the meds when he got his last math quiz back. Katsuki excelled in school, in all subjects, and it was rare that he’d get anything below a ninety-eight percent.

This one was a ninety . Shit.

“Hey, I did way better this time!” Kirishima said happily, shoving his seventy-eight in Katsui’s face. Through the fog of sleep deprivation, he was at least proud of his friend. Especially since he’d worked hard to get all that damn information into Kirishima’s head.

“Finally.” Katsuki muttered. “Bout time you started retaining the shit I teach you.”

Kirishima gave him an abashed but still ridiculously bright smile. “You know, I may learn better without you whacking me on the head all the time. What did you get?”

“Fuck off, that’s my business.” Katsuki said, immediately trying to shove it into his backpack. However, his behavior must have set off alarm bells in Kirishima’s mind, so his stupid fucking best friend tried looking even harder than his casual glace of before.

“Ninety?!?” “Shut up!” Katsuki hissed, his cheeks heating up without his consent.

“Dude I’ve never seen you get a score so low.” Kirishima’s voice was irritatingly worried, and Katsuki hated it. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, keep your nose out of my fucking business.”

“ Something’s wrong.” Kirishima pressed. “You’ve been off lately, like way off. I just thought maybe you were studying really hard but something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Katsuki insisted.

“Come on, I’m your best friend, you can tell me.” Kirishima said, his eyes gratingly sincere.

“There’s nothing to tell.” Katsuki growled, and thankfully, class was over for the day now, and they could go home. Katsuki just quickly grabbed his stuff, and left, ignoring Kirishima’s urges to talk.

Thank fuck it was friday. Now it was time to stare at the ceiling for long past five am. At least he could still stay in bed however long he wanted to.

Katsuki just went straight to his dorm room, again ignoring all of Kirishima’s attempts to talk to him, and locked his door behind him. His bag thudded heavily to the floor, and he flopped down onto his bed, cradling his head in his hands. Gods, what he wouldn’t do to just sleep. 

His bed was comfortable, his room was the perfect temperature, he’d changed into comfortable sweats and an oversized t-shirt, and he didn’t have school tomorrow so he could sleep in as long as he wanted, and still he couldn’t sleep. Closing his eyes just left him in the dark, and trying to do stupid breathing exercises to calm his mind did nothing. Sleep eluded him like common sense eluded Deku, and Katsuki just lay in bed, wishing with all his might that he could sleep and not getting it.

A knock startled him out of his desperate attempts for sleep, and he just sighed. Impatiently, the knock sounded again.

“Kaaaccchhaann.” Kaminari whined from the other side of the door.  “We know you’re in there.”

“No shit I’m in here, it’s my fucking room!” He shouted back.

“Come on, bro, open the door!” Kirishima was there too apparently. “We wanna hang out.”

“Yeah! It’s friday!” Aaaaand there was Sero. Dammit, he hated when all of his friends ganged up on him. It was always much harder to resist when all of his idiots were yapping at him. “Time for a smash brothers tournament!”

“We’re not gonna leave you alone until you come with us.” Ashido. Great, now the whole squad was outside his door. “So you might as well just give in and come out.”

He sighed again, loudly and dramatically. Fucking hell, his friends were annoying. But playing video games was mindless, and he did at least enjoy it. Maybe it would exhaust him enough to finally let him sleep.

“Fine.” He sighed, and the squad cheered. “But I’m player one, and no one complains about it.”

“Deal!” was chirped and Katsuki reluctantly got out of bed.

Apparently tonight was in Kirishima’s room, so at least he didn’t have to go far. They often cycled through the squad for video game tournaments and movie nights (except his. No one went into his room but him). But this time it was Kirishima’s turn to host, and so they all shuffled into the horrible brightness of his best friend’s room, and all spread out on the only available room to sit, the bed. Katsuki wasn’t sure how, as he didn’t like people coming into his personal space, but somehow, he ended up in the middle of Kirishima’s bed with Kirishima on his right side and Ashido on his left. Kaminari and Sero were sitting on the floor, leaning against his legs. This felt very intentional, but his friends weren’t acting suspicious, and since none of them could act well, he let it go. Maybe he was overthinking it?

He was handed the player one controller, and the others were passed around. The game was familiar enough to be relaxing, yet high speed enough to take his mind off his problems a little bit. He got comfortable and barely noticed it, sagging where he was sitting, body growing lax and complacent with a desperate need to rest. Everything started to fade into the background, the colors began to blur on the TV. His hands pushed the controller buttons automatically, on pure motor memory, but as his surroundings turned to white noise, he forgot that he was actually competing with anyone. His hands slowed as his mind sank into the comfort of where he was, the people around him. His friends’ animated chattering turned to a quiet buzz in his ears, sharp but familiar. He was warm on all sides, and Kirishima’s duvet was surprisingly soft.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, yanking him out of his reverie, and the controller was being pulled out of his hands. He was confused until he managed to refocus his vision and see Ashido looking at him with big, worried eyes.

“Okay, Kirishima was right, something’s wrong.” She said.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Katsuki insisted. “Let’s just finish playing.”

“Dude, the game’s over.” Sero said, staring at him with the same worry in Ashido’s eyes.

His eyes flicked to the screen, and it had returned to the selection of characters for the next round. Shit. He hadn’t even noticed. His eyes came back to his friends, and everyone was staring at him. Even Kaminari was giving him an uncertain look.

“Come on, Bakugou, talk to us.” Kirishima said, and the walls Katsuki put up were becoming too exhausting to keep up. The sincerity even he couldn’t mistake for pity was too strong, the room too comfortable for him to be able to resist. He was just so tired. “We’re your friends. You can tell us anything.”

“I’m fine.” Katsuki hissed, his last desperate attempt to get them to back off before his walls fully crumbled. How had he lost so much ground so quickly? He was normally so much stronger than this. But dammit, he was exhausted and keeping up this act just added to his exhaustion.

“But you’re not.” Kirishima said. “You’ve been way off in training, you haven’t been getting your normal scores, and you just zoned out for like ten minutes without even realizing it. That’s not ‘fine’, dude. It’s just not.”

No matter where he looked, he couldn’t escape this sincerity, and he was trapped, with Sero leaning up against his leg so he couldn’t just storm out. Fuck.

“Icantsleep.” Katsuki whispered, his voice barely audible.

“What?” Chorused from his friends.

“I can’t sleep.” Katsuki sighed heavily. “Everything’s fine, I’m just really fucking tired.”

“But… you’ve been going to bed every night super early like normal.” Kaminari said, surprised. “We’ve seen you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you stay up past nine on school nights.”

“I don’t.” Katsuki said. “I just… I don’t know. I get into bed, and I just can’t sleep. I mostly just lay there.”

His friends exchanged worried looks.

“How long has it been since you last got decent sleep?” Kirishima asked.

Katsuki just shrugged, since honestly at this point, he really didn’t know.

“Have you tried, like, melatonin or tea?” Ashido asked.

Katsuki nodded. “Yes, I’ve tried those, I’ve already tried all the fucking obvious methods. Meds, tea, all the different noises, I even tried fucking yoga . Nothing worked. I just can’t sleep.”

“So is it like a mental thing?” Kaminari asked. “I sometimes can’t sleep because my thoughts are going too fast.”

Katsuki just shook his head.

“Well then, do you know what it is?” Sero asked. “That’s keeping you up? Because it sounds like it’s not a physical thing, if those other things didn’t work, and you say it’s not a mental thing, so I feel like there’s a puzzle piece missing.”

Katsuki just shrugged, not wanting to admit the nightmares, but his cheeks turned light pink anyways. Dammit.

“Okay, come on, what are you not telling us?” Kirishima asked directly. “I know that face, Bakugou, that face means you’re hiding something.”

“It does not!” Katsuki shot back.

Kirishima just raised an eyebrow. “How long have we been friends? And next door neighbors?”

“I keep telling you fucks, we’re not friends, I just can’t get rid of you.” Katsuki said, curling into himself unconsciously.

“Since the USJ at least.” Kirishima said, answering his own question. “I know you, man. We know you.”

“And that face means you’re hiding something.” Ashido finished. “You always get the tiniest blush when you know something we don’t know.”

“I do not.” Katsuki grumbled.

Several versions of “yes, you do” were echoed from all sides.

Katsuki just slumped harder. Fuck his friends. How the fuck did they know him so well? He hadn’t even known them a year! And yet, they knew him better than anyone in his life, outside of his parents and maybe Deku.

“Fucking fine, I have nightmares, okay!” Katsuki shouted, the jagged remains of his internal walls becoming like porcupine quills, trying to stab his friends with his anger. “I don’t fucking know why, but I’ve been having them basically every single fucking night, and there’s no goddamn reason for them! Will you shits leave me alone now?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kirishima asked, placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment.

“What the fuck would I say?” Katsuki snapped. “So you could call me a fucking pussy who gets nightmares for no fucking reason?”

“We wouldn’t call you a pussy because you get nightmares, Bakugou.” Kirishima said. “I get nightmares too.”

“Yeah, we all do.” Sero said, with Kaminari and Ashido nodding along.

His confusion must have been written on his face because Kirishima continued. “Dude, I’ve gotten them ever since Kamino. And the Shie Hassaikai raid made them come back for a while too. I still get them every once in a while.”

“I got them after the USJ,” Kaminari said, “and mine came back for a while too, after that whole fiasco on I-Island.”

“And not to mention Nabu Island too.” Sero added.

“I still have nightmares about that woman.” Ashido shuddered, and Katsuki knew she was also talking about Nabu. “Sometimes I even have nightmares about failing out of school.”

“Oh gods, girl, same.” Kaminari said, leaning back on Katsuki’s leg to look directly up at Ashido. “I have that nightmare the night before every test.”

Katsuki unconsciously filed that information away for later, he’d come back to that when the next test came around, but mostly he was still confused. “But none of you ever said anything. You shits literally talk about every subject under the fucking sun and you’ve never mentioned that. I would’ve noticed.”

“I mean, I guess not, but like.” Kirishima shrugged. “That doesn’t mean we’d call you a pussy for having them. You’re too hard on yourself, bro. Nightmares happen.”

“Not to me.” Katsuki hissed. “I’m fine , there’s nothing wrong with me!”

“We’re not saying anything’s wrong with you, Bakugou.” Ashido said, placing her hand on his shoulder for a moment, like Kirishima did.

“Nothing has to be wrong with you for you to get nightmares.” Sero said. “Honestly, with all the shit you’ve been through, I’d be shocked if you didn’t get them.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine getting kid-uh, I mean battling villains the way you did and not getting nightmares.” Kaminari recovered quickly after almost fucking up, reminding Katsuki of what he did not like being reminded of . Kamino could go die for all he cared, and he hated any reminder of it with a passion.

“But we haven’t had any battles lately.” Katsuki snapped, his hatred for his own weakness coming out as a spat at his friends. “There’s no fucking reason for this.”

“I don’t think nightmares need a specific reason to happen, bro.” Sero shrugged. “You just get them. There doesn’t always need to be a reason.”

Katsuki huffed, unhappy with that answer.

“We can figure out the reason tomorrow.” Kirishima said, successfully putting a pin in the conversation. He was good at that, at getting Katsuki to come back to shit when he felt better. “Right now, I think we just need to focus on helping you sleep.”

“I don’t need anyone’s fucking help.” Katsuki growled.

“Uh-huh.” Kirishima was also good at calling him out on his bullshit. Dammit, when had his stupid best friend gotten so good at that? “Come on. Lay down. You’re staying with me tonight.”

“No.” Katsuki said, very confused at to what the fuck his friend was even planning. “That’s dumb.”

“Fine, I’ll just tackle you.” Kirishima stated seriously, and honestly, Katsuki believed him.

“Whatever.” He grumbled, pulling himself back a little so he could properly lay down on Kirishima’s bed. For someone who’s entire thing was hardening, Kirishima’s bedding was unexpectedly soft. “Now what, geniuses?”

Apparently ‘now’ was everyone climbing onto the bed with him, Ashido pressed against his abdomen and the wall, Kirishima on his other side, and Sero and Kaminari back on his legs. They weren’t on him enough for him to feel trapped, but enough for him to feel that they were there. It felt oddly comforting.

“Okay, now close your eyes.” Ashido said.

He just glared up at her.

“You have to close your eyes to sleep.” She rolled her eyes. “Unless you sleep with your eyes open. Wait, do you sleep with your eyes open?”

“No, I don’t sleep with my eyes open, that’s weird.”

“Okay, so close your eyes.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes at her, and he sighed unhappily, but he did as she said.

“Breathe in for four seconds, and then exhale for seven.” Sero said.

“Tried that.” Katsuki replied. “Didn’t work.”

“Do it anyway.” Sero said, and he could hear him rolling his eyes. His bastard friends had a lot of nerve to roll their eyes at him, considering what they were doing. “You need to relax, and stop fighting us. Otherwise, you’re never going to get to sleep.”

“I’m never going to sleep with all you fucks watching me either.” Katsuki mumbled.

“We’re not watching you,” Ashido said. “We’re helping you.”

“Same thing.” Katsuki muttered.

“Just do the fucking breathing exercises.” Sero snapped.

Overdramatically, he took a big breath in, and blew it out. Afterwards, he started counting to four and seven as he breathed, and his body did start to relax. His mind was still very much wide awake but at least his body wasn’t as taut as a rubber band anymore. It felt a little strange, as he hadn’t felt anything when he’d tried this on his own, but it was working so he didn’t question it.

A hand suddenly came to his hair, brushing through his spikes, scratching lightly. His eyes immediately snapped open, and he found the hand belonged to Ashido. 

“Fuck are you doing?” Katsuki asked, but he was taken aback a little by his own voice. He sounded like he was half-asleep, but he knew that was untrue. His mind was still very awake.

“Shush, and keep your eyes closed.” She lightly chastised him. Katsuki didn’t even notice that she hadn’t answered his question.

Instead of standing up and telling his friends this didn’t work either, his leaded eyes just slid shut. His mind sank back into the comfort from before, a quiet voice of anxiety and fear effectively silenced by the warmth and safety his friends emanated.

Distantly, he could feel hands pull at his feet, taking his shoes off for him, and he didn’t have the words to respond to them. The fingers in his hair became his only real focus, feeling the gentle strokes of Ashido’s hand as she lightly dragged her nails over his scalp. No one but his parents had ever attempted anything like this, but he found he didn’t really want her to stop. Her fingers seemed to turn his exhaustion into a soft brook across his body, seeking out tension and washing it away. After an amount of time he couldn’t distinguish, the only things he could feel anymore were his friends comforting weight against him, and Ashido’s fingers in his hair. There were soft noises around him, gentle but garbled. Katsuki only caught the words ‘sleep’ and ‘night’, and couldn’t decipher any of the rest.

In an instant, Katsuki’s mind had gone from being completely awake to hanging by a thread, and Katsuki wasn’t sure when that had happened. Sleep hit him like a freight train, the thread of his consciousness didn’t stand a chance, and he was asleep between one breath and another.

After being so used to waking up shaking and sweating, Katsuki didn’t notice he was actually awake at first. He woke up slowly, an easy rise to consciousness not tainted by fear and terror. He felt warm on all sides, with heavy pressure all over his body, and he was so comfortable that he could’ve slipped back into sleep without much issue. Even more surprising, he felt rested for the first time in what felt like weeks. This was one of the best sleeps of his life. He idly wondered what brought it on after those debilitating nightmares.

Oh yeah. His friends. He could hear their soft breathing, feel their bodies all over him. Ashido was still sandwiched between him and the wall with her legs across his waist, Kirishima had flopped almost onto him, and the idiot’s legs seemed to be hanging off the bed, Sero and Kaminari were all tangled up on his legs, using his thighs as pillows. Kaminari was drooling on him, of fucking course the idiot drooled, but he was so comfortable that he let it go (for now). It took a bit of work to extract his hand from the pile that was him and his friends, but he checked his phone that was still in his pocket. It was a little past 5. Wow, he’d actually slept through the whole night.

Even with all the sleep he'd gotten which made him feel sooooo much better, he was still exhausted. His sleep deficit had only increased the more this went on, and he had a lot to make up. So, since no one was awake, he just snuggled in deeper to his friends, pressing into all of them, and he let the safety of his friends (who were practically family to him at this point) take him right back to sleep. And he slept long after everyone else had woken up, though they all still stayed cuddled up to him, their presence keeping the nightmares away.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Day 19, 23- shidekobushi

19 was hard, so this is what came of it. It's not my strongest work, but it's still finished. That's all that matters^^

prompts- floral bouquet and stalking- Bakugou has a stalker, one who he sees as nothing more than an annoyance. but this wouldn't be a whump story if she was just an annoyance ;) mostly really this is slice of life with whump^^

AO3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50331565

A hero needed to be constantly aware of their surroundings, able to tell the slightest difference between movements to make sure they’re not caught off guard, and Katsuki lived by that code. Even though he ignored all the stares he’d become more aware of after Kamino, and very much ignored how anxious that made him feel, he still noticed who was staring at him, assessing their threat status, or how annoying they were. The top of that list right now was this dumb little brunette from support, who hadn’t stopped staring at him for almost a month now. If he flicked his eyes over to her, glaring strongly, she always turned her head to the side, and it tightened the dread that had started building in his gut. There were two scenarios where someone would need to stare at him for so long, and one was particularly worse than the other. The first was simple, they were a threat to him, either challenging his authority or prowess, and he could deal with them easily. The second drove him up the wall. Ever since middle school, where the other kids had finally begun to notice the other gender, or the same gender depending on which way they swung, he’d been plagued by other people leaving chocolates on his desk, slipping little notes into his locker, or worst of all, actually talking to him with a nervous smile and hopeful eyes, asking him for coffee or to go on a walk.

He might take a little too much pleasure shutting them down sometimes, but watching as their faces collapsed when he bluntly turned them down was his consolation prize for being forced to deal with this shit in the first place. It was their own fault really, he’d made it very clear that he had no interest in romance, especially not the ‘traditional’ way. He always thought it was so stupid, leaving terrible chocolate or pieces of worthless paper with shitty drawings all over it. If he ever became interested in romance, (which he absolutely doubted but the old hag kept telling him she was the same way when she was his age but she found herself wanting it as she got older so he supposed it was technically possible) he would be the one doing the ‘wooing’ or whatever shit it was called. He wasn’t a coward, he’d just go up to the person and tell them and start dating them. He would never be approached by anyone and actually accept it.

Katsuki had hoped to dissuade her by loudly talking about how he didn’t date around her. His friends had asked him if he’d ever dated before coming to U.A., and he’d taken advantage of the opportunity. Ashido was the most perceptive in the class when it came to unnecessary emotions, calling the couples that would eventually get together with disturbing accuracy, so he’d thought that she’d asked because she also noticed the girl and was putting feelers out if he was interested. He’d tried to make it blatantly obvious that he wasn’t to get her to back off, but that just seemed to spur her on. Not even yelling at her to leave him alone worked, at least Deku listened to that.

When she started showing up at places he went, he started to get very uncomfortable. She would never actually engage with him, just be there, at arm’s length, constantly making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Dread mixed with anxiety that he refused to admit was anxiety, telling himself that it was just some stupid bitch who couldn’t read a fucking room. Deku had been similar, though he actually had been invited to the places he was going because the old hag had insisted on inviting Auntie Inko and inviting Auntie always meant Deku coming too. The damn nerd may have constantly stared and asked too many questions, but at least he wasn’t always at the edge of his perception, raising his hackles every goddamn time. His skin crawled every time he saw her, when he decided to get Lunch Rush’s food rather than make his own she was always there, when he went to the gym to spar or workout she was always there pretending to work out, when all of his classmates were outside enjoying the sun and he was studying away from them (but not too far away) she was always on another bench or behind a tree. This dumb extra was fucking insane, apparently, and eventually he went back to ignoring her, hoping that complete disinterest in her actions would work.

It hadn’t, much to his dismay.

“You know, dude, maybe we should just start inviting that girl to go with us places.” Kaminari said lightly, ignoring Katsuki’s glare. “We already know she’s gonna be there anyways, might as well give her an invitation.”

“I barely tolerate you fucks, invite her and I’ll stick your head to the top of the flagpole.” Katsuki growled, trying to suppress how uncomfortable that made him.

“But if we do, then she’ll see how much better boyfriend material I am.” Kaminari laughed, puffing up his nonexistent chest. “That’ll get her off your back.”

Tense muscles unwound just a little as Katsuki recognized that Kaminari was actually trying to help, just in the stupidest way possible. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, he’d named the idiot Dunce Face for a reason, and not just because of his whey mode.

But the idea still made him pause. “Aren’t you literally always trying to get into Ears’ pants? And Mindfreak’s now too?”

Kaminari looked quickly over to where the two purples were… off purpling, he didn’t fucking know and he didn’t care. All he cared about was Dunce Face kept inviting more and more people to be in their little group that Katsuki couldn’t escape and it really pissed him the fuck off.

“I mean, yeah, but there’s always the ‘make em jealous’ route.” Kaminari said, once he realized his two purples were out of earshot.

“That literally never works, you’re just a fucking idiot.” Katsuki said, ignoring the fact that he was actually somehow giving relationship advice. God, what was his life now?

Kaminari sort of deflated with too much emotion for Katsuki to process all of them. “Well, I don’t know what else to do! I flirt with them, and they just make fun of me.”

“As they should.”

“Kacchan!” Kaminari huffed. “My point is, I’m running out of ideas here. A guy can only take so much friendly ribbing before he goes crazy!”

“Why are you asking me?” Katsuki in disbelief.

“Because I’ve already asked everyone else, and nothing’s working.” Kaminari whined.

“Maybe if you stop being such a huge idiot all the time, they might pay attention to you.” Katsuki scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Get better lines, I’m so fucking sick of the shitty ones you have. If you say another corny ass bullshit one-liner, I’m throwing you out the window.”

“Hey, my lines are awesome!” Kaminari said, getting another eye roll and scoff.

“Sure, if you’re five or in one of those god awful romance movies.”

Kaminari pouted. “I don’t know what that girl sees in you.”

Katsuki didn’t either.

“Girl?” Ah, hell, Ashido. Great, way to make this conversation worse. “Is there a girl? Oh my god, Bakugou do you like someone?”

“Fuck no.” Katsuki barked, making her pout.

“Nah, we’re talking about Kacchan’s stalker.” Kaminari said, saving him from another lecture about not yelling at people who ask stupid questions. “We don’t know what she sees in him.”

“Fuck you, I’m great.” Katsuki snapped. “If I did want to date someone, which I don’t, but if I did, I’d be the greatest fucking boyfriend ever. Your stupid pickup lines wouldn’t be good enough to lick the dirt off my boots.”

Kaminari cringed at his crudeness, but Ashido just stared at him with her too knowing eyes. “You know, Bakugou, if you keep that up, you’ll end up single for the rest of your life.”

“Good.” Katsuki snarled. “Romance is for the weak minded.”

“Mm, you say that now.” Ashido said, still staring at him. “I still swear by the end of second year, you’ll be with someone. I just know it.”

Katsuki blanched a little, deciding to never date anyone ever while he was here at U.A. just to spite her, even if the world turned upside down and he somehow actually wanted to. Kaminari laughed at his face, which Katsuki ended with a hard smack! to his arm.

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“Sorry, Kacchan but you should’ve seen your face.” Kaminari said, rubbing his arm but still giggling a little. Bastard.

“I don’t date. At all.” Katsuki stated bluntly. “Least of all her. She’s a fucking creep.”

“If you’re uncomfortable around her, why don’t you just tell her to leave you alone, and that you’re not interested?” Mina asked.

Katsuki’s eye twitched. “I have. She won’t take the fucking hint.”

“Just tell someone, then.” Mina shrugged, as if it were that easy. “I’m sure one of the teachers would step in for stalking. Pretty sure it’s against the rules or something. Or we could do it, maybe she’ll listen to us.”

“I don’t need anyone to ‘step in’, I don’t need help.” Katsuki growled. “I can handle this on my own, without anyone meddling in my fucking business.”

Katsuki just needed her to just make her stupid public confession, so he could embarrass her in front of everyone to get her to stop. Humiliating her was becoming his last option to get her to fucking stop. He didn’t know if anything else would work since nothing else was.

Mina just shrugged at him again, and the conversation moved back to Kaminari’s pathetic attempts to get into their other friends’ pants, and Katsuki tried to forget about her for a while.

“Bakubro, stalker alert.” Kirishima murmured to him as they were at their lockers, the last bell having rung a few minutes ago.

Katsuki turned and the dumb bitch was actually walking towards him, her arms behind her back, like she was holding something. Finally.

“What, stalker?” Katsuki snapped as she finally came up to him.

“Um, it’s Seiko.” She said, and he internally facepalmed that she thought he had just mispronounced her name. Though, the fact that her parents named her ‘psycho’ seemed apt.

His throat was getting a little tight, and he wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t dangerous, just creepy. He should’ve been able to breathe just fine. His eye had twitched at her stupidity, but it was still going, and Katsuki was starting to get a little dizzy. What the hell?

“I’ve been admiring you from afar,” not too fucking far, “and I thought that maybe, since I know you like coffee,” she sounded like she knew some personal secret, and Katsuki rolled his eyes. Everyone knew he liked coffee. “a-and well. I thought that maybe you’d like to go out for a coffee with me this friday?”

Katsuki meant to yell at her, but his throat was now very tight, as if it was closing. Something was wrong, he just couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on.

Taking his silence as hesitant permission to keep going, she went on, “I-I brought you these! I overheard you saying you liked them the other day, so. Here.”

And then it made sense.

This dumb fucking bitch pulled out shidekobushi from behind her back, her hands jerky in her movements. She was right, he had mentioned them the other day, but not because he liked them.

He’d been telling his friends he was deathly allergic to them.

They’d been discussing taking a weekend trip somewhere, to blow off steam and just spend some quality time together, and he’d been forced to join the conversation. Mina had floated the idea of going to Tajimi, because this was the season the rare flower shidekobushi were in bloom, and Tajimi was one of the only places in Japan to see them.

“We’re not going there.” Katsuki had said authoritatively.

“Kacchan, just because you don’t really like flowers doesn’t mean it’s not a cool experience.” Mina had protested, frowning.

“We’re not going there.” Katsuki had repeated. “If you go there, I’m not going.”

“Come on, bro, the point is to do things as a group.” Kirishima had put his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder briefly. “Everyone goes, even if it’s not our first choice.”

“I’m not fucking going.” Katsuki had snapped. “I’ve been there before.”

“And we’ve all been to the maid cafe Denki dragged us to too, and that’s still an option.” Mina had insisted. “Besides, I’ve never been, and I want to go.”

“I can’t!” Katsuki had sighed angrily, rubbing his nose trying to deal with their annoying bullshit. His voice had gotten low, instinctively trying to protect himself from being overheard. Admitting this was already hard enough. “Last time I went, I ended up in the hospital.”

That had caught his friends’ attention. “Dude, why?”

“Because I got fucking taken out by fucking flowers.” Katsuki had whispered grumpily. He hated admitting any weakness, but he couldn’t play with his own life like that. He couldn’t be a hero if some stupid flower fucking killed him, no matter how much he hated it. Stupid bastards for pushing him all the time, they always made him admit things he didn’t want to. How fucking dare they learn his weaknesses? “I can’t be around them, they make me sick.”

Thankfully, Kirishima had had the good grace to also whisper because they all knew how hard this was for him, Kirishima especially. “Like allergic? Like how bad?”

“Bad.” Katsuki had said. “If you wanna go there, I’m not going. I don’t fuck around with that.”

They’d all agreed that that was off the table, and Katsuki had all but forgotten talking about it.

Until he had those exact flowers shoved in his face by a crazy stalker who’d only overheard part of the conversation.

Katsuki’s eyes went wide as his throat immediately closed, his hand coming to his throat as the world began to spin. He gasped for air like a fish out of water, the air never making it to his lungs as his throat closed completely. He stumbled backwards, feeling Kirishima catch him as his eyes unfocused as the room began to spin faster. Kirishima lowered them to the ground, Katsuki’s body jerking convulsively as he kept trying and failing to breathe.

Voices filtered in his head, and he lost track of them, black spots flashing across his eyes so fast he didn’t notice when his eyes rolled back in his head.

“I don’t understand! I heard him!”

“Get those flowers away from him! He’s allergic!”

“Does anyone have an epi-pen?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Someone get Recovery Girl!”

“He can’t breathe!”

The convulsions stopped, his eyes fluttered closed, and his attempts at getting air stopped. Darkness overtook him like a tsunami, not even giving him time to lament the fact that he’d just been killed by a fucking flower of all things, only giving him the slightest feeling of something sharp in his leg.

The first thing he became conscious of was breathing a full breath and then immediately choking on it, coughing as he wheezed awake. He got his eyes open, blinking heavily at the too strong light, but the world stayed in place instead of spinning and he could breathe again so he could thank the stars he hadn’t just been killed by a fucking flower. Stupid fucking immune system.

“Easy, Bakugou, take it easy.” It took a moment but his vision justified Aizawa into focus. “Recovery Girl will be here in a minute, just breathe.”

Honestly, breathing was still a little hard to do, but he shook his head anyway. “Can walk.”

“I know you can, I’m just not letting you.” Aizawa said. He opened his mouth in protest, but the hand he discovered was on his shoulder pressed down. “Epinephrine is taken best laid down, we need to make sure it’s still properly in your system, and right now what I say goes. You can yell at me later, problem child, after this is over.”

Katsuki decided he was definitely going to do that, this pissed him off. He was perfectly capable of walking to Recovery Girl’s office under his own power.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Aizawa said, distracting him from his anger. “I’m getting a lot of conflicting stories.”

“Crazy stalker bitch.” Katsuki panted, his eyes searching for her. But he found there wasn’t anyone else around him, they were all down the hall, Vlad King blocking off anyone from getting near him. Alright, maybe he won’t yell so much at Aizawa, that was clearly his doing. “Brought stupid fucking flowers as if I’d like that. ‘M allergic to them.”

“We noticed that.” Aizawa muttered. “Your friends say she’s been stalking you for about a month now, and that you repeatedly turned her down. Do you think it might have been intentional?”

Katsuki shook his head. He hated this bitch and hoped to never see her again, but he wouldn’t purposefully get someone in trouble for something they didn’t do. He had his own code of honor, even if other people didn’t understand it. “Don’t think so. Think she just misheard me. She never got close enough to hear shit properly, and she asked me out rather than say it was revenge, so I think she’s just fucking dumb.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Aizawa asked. “She did shove them in your face from what I’ve heard.”

“I’m sure.” Katsuki nodded. “Not the first time someone’s shoved stuff at me because of this romance bullshit. First time it was flowers though. Usually it’s chocolate.”

“Alright, that’s good.” Aizawa said.  “And you didn’t come to anyone about having a stalker for a month… why?”

“She was just a girl with a stupid crush.” Katsuki said obviously. “She wasn’t a threat. Figured she’d ask me out eventually, and thought turning her down would get her to stop. Wasn’t supposed to be a big deal.”

“If there’s a next time, problem child, tell me anyway, I don’t care.” Aizawa said bluntly. “Stalkers can devolve very easily into dangerous situations, or they can do dumb things like get you flowers you’re allergic to and become threats in a matter of seconds.”

Katsuki pouted, didn’t nod but also didn’t refuse. Aizawa took that as acceptance.

“Get better students and I won’t have to deal with this.”

Aizawa glared at him. He glared back.

“Since it seems to be accidental,” Aizawa said. Katsuki declared the staring contest a draw. “I don’t think suspension or expulsion are necessary, just an apology and maybe a restriction order. Do you agree?”

“I don’t want that bitch anywhere near me.” Katsuki growled. “And she can stuff her apology up her ass, I don’t fucking need pathetic words.”

Aizawa just nodded at him. “I’ll have her write one anyway, you don’t have to read it.”

Katsuki just huffed.

“Alright, Recovery Girl is here.” Aizawa said, and Katsuki could hear the whir of a transport and crutch along with footsteps. “Be nice, problem child.”

Katsuki opened his mouth, and Aizawa just glared again. “Be nice.”

He was yelling at his bastard teacher again.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Day 14, 21, 24, 28- Never Shall We Die

This was inspired by @olldolldraws they did a great piece with a pirate Katsuki that just made me feral. The story didn't end up like the drawing, but Katsuki's appearance is basically completely the same. But Kirishima wouldn't be the mermaid, so Todoroki ended up doing it. I'm not a fantasy writer, so this might not be the best, but I hope you all really enjoy it.

prompts- water inhalation, restraints, goodbye note, sacrifice- pirate Katsuki has to walk the plank to save his crew, and is resigned to his death. but he's saved by someone, something, completely unexpected

AO3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50193352

Katsuki had never been one that saw the point in making prisoners walk the plank. He thought it was entirely unnecessary, too much energy for too little of a reward. It was far easier to simply stab them and throw the body overboard. His efficiency in executions aided in his rise to becoming one of the most feared pirates on all seven seas, so he never saw a need to make anyone, be them soldier or buccaneer.

He never thought he’d be the one walking to his own death off a flimsy piece of wood.

Granted, he may have been a bit overconfident when the Tainted Revenge first fired upon them, but he won every battle he’d ever entered into. It had never been overconfidence, just a factual statement that he’d win, that is… until now. He’d treated this as any other battle he fought, with the fierce determination to win, unwilling to accept defeat, with complete confidence in his crew. He only took on the best, so Katsuki thought it impossible for them to lose.

It seemed that death had finally caught up to him, having evaded it for so long. Pirates’ lives were grand and full of adventure, but very often, they were also rather short.

“Captain, don’t!” Kirishima shouted, so strong the two men holding him were having trouble keeping him under control. A gag was immediately tied around his loyal first mate’s mouth, but Katsuki had already made his choice. Katsuki had already accepted Captain Shigaraki’s bargain, his life for his crews’. It was a choice Katsuki made without even thinking.

“How can I know you’ll spare them?” Katsuki asked instead, talking directly to Captain Shigaraki, trying to ignore his crews’ shouts and struggles. They had always been loyal to him, and he to them, and the scream that had echoed from all of them when he’d accepted had been one of the most awful noises he’d ever heard. But he refused to let them die when he could save them. “It’s not like a dead man can hold you to your word.”

“Captain!” Mina screamed, causing the blonde bitch holding her to put her sword to her throat, giggling like a madwoman. The bloodlust in her eyes just intensified his resolve to save them.

Shigraki smirked, as if amused by his question. Instead of answering him directly, the bastard turned to another member of his crew. “Magne, prepare the lifeboat.”

Shigaraki turned back to him. “There’s an island a few clicks away from here. It’s uninhabited, but there’s enough life for a signal fire. Once they’re on the water, they’re out of my hands.”

Katsuki knew that would be the best deal he’d get. “Put them on first. Then I’ll walk.”

“Uh, uh, ah.” Shigaraki sneered. “If I do that, they’ll just row over and grab you. Would make the deal a bit moot.”

“I’m not dying before they’re freed.” Katsuki said, stepping up to Shigaraki showing no fear. With his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t do anything if Shigaraki tried, but he refused to show this sadistic bastard what he wanted. If he was going to die, he was going to die with his pride intact.

“Captain, please don’t!” He could hear the tears in Kaminari’s voice. The young boy was the newest member of his trusted crew, just a simple cabin boy, but the best one he’d ever had, if a little constantly distracted.

“Fine.” Shigaraki rolled his eyes. “I’ll put them on, but I’m not lowering them until I’m sure you’re dead.”

Katsuki took the last long look at his crew. A third man had to join to keep holding Kirishima back, even with the sword at his throat. Mina was crying as the blonde bitch held her too close for Katsuki’s liking, Denki was too, his body trembling in the scarred bastard’s grip. Shinsou was trying to staunch a bleeding wound in Sero’s leg, but they still kept looking up at him in terror. They saw him as unbeatable, and it broke his heart that this was the last time they’d ever see him.

He gave them a smile that was a little too shaky to be as confident as he wanted it to be, and then turned and gave Shigaraki a nod. His crew screamed again as they were thrown roughly into the lifeboat the woman had already prepared. Kirishima tried to rush them but three swords were pointed at his crew in seconds. “Eijirou, stand down!” Katsuki commanded, and Kirishima looked up at him, broken-hearted. “You know your duty. Keep them safe.”

Kirishima just stared at him, the grief so powerful in his eyes, Katsuki had to look away. Shigaraki then pushed him roughly so he stumbled towards the edge of the boat, where the plank lay, as inviting as a siren’s call. “Go on then.”

Katsuki’s heart sped up in fear, but he held firm. He wouldn’t die a coward. He wouldn’t.

The plank was a pathetic piece of wood, and the first step he took made a horrible creaking sound. He hoped he’d be able to walk all the way to the end before it collapsed. If he was going to die, then it was going to be on his terms. Walking on something so narrow with his hands bound was more difficult than he thought it would be, so he took it a little slow, his steps sure and careful. As he walked, he whispered the mantra he’d taught every member of his crew. It was from the first sea shanty he’d learned as a pirate, and the way he’d lived his life on the sea.

“Oh hurry up already, before I get bored!” Shigaraki shouted, startling him a little, causing him to wobble. His steps got a little faster but he tried to keep his cautious approach.

It was the longest walk of his life, but it was only a few short steps until he reached the end. He took a breath, held his head high, and spun on his ankles to face the bastards, but his eyes were only on his crew. Crimson met red, black, yellow, black and purple.

“Never shall we die.”

He jumped.

Panic hit him the second he hit the water. Katsuki had grown up on the ocean, his parents silk merchants who often took him with them as they went from port to port. He’d learned to swim before he’d learned how to spell his own name. But now all those years of expertise were useless, his body jerking out with no traction, his legs directionless as he tried to get back up to the surface. He’d breach the surface for a moment before the ocean’s current would rise again and he couldn’t tread water to keep from being pushed down all over again. Holding his breath was his last resort, trying to take as big of a breath as he could when his head was above the surface but the rolling waves were coming too fast. He could hear voices he knew but the water pushed him down before he could decipher them, and his legs were quickly losing energy to be able to keep himself afloat. His wrists strained on the ropes, trying desperately to get out, but the fiber just dug into his skin, rubbing his wrists raw, the salt of the ocean stinging him as water shoved itself down his throat. Energy drained out of him as he began to sink under the waves, his legs kicking out without strength before going completely limp. He could see the sun shining down on the water, the bright light with its shining rays getting dim as his eyes fluttered. A few bubbles escaped his lips, taking the last bit of air he had, and his last thought was a prayer that his sacrifice was worth it, that his crew, his friends would live on even if he didn't. Darkness claimed him as he sank down into the depths of Davy Jones locker.

Katsuki could feel the touch of fingers on his cheek, gentle as they turned his face a little, and a little pressure on his chest had him coughing up the water in his lungs. Air that wasn’t laden with water passed his lips and he took a breath he didn’t think he’d ever take again. A presence, the fingers owner, was talking to him he thought, but he couldn’t understand the voice at all. But it sounded… it sounded…

Ethereal

Breaking the salt crusting his lids shut, Katsuki’s eyes fluttered to see something his drowned mind couldn’t understand. The sun shone around this stranger like a halo, making the white and red sparkle in the light, but blue as bright as ice and gray like a fierce storm captivated him. He’d never seen such eyes. There was a gentleness in them, though it was guarded with caution. An uncoordinated hand went to reach for the stranger’s face but another hand caught it. The hand was cool, cooler than he’d ever felt a hand be before. His brow furrowed. What… who…

A loud sound caught the stranger’s attention, and his eyes went wide as he saw the stranger shrink back. They weren’t wearing a shirt, and their muscles were on full display, with Katsuki able to see each one of their abs as they went down, down, down until they reached… a tail. Katsuki blinked hard, and still saw the fish tail, the scales enmeshed with their skin. Katsuki’s head swam again, getting dizzy from the sight. The stranger looked down at him again, and with a sadness he didn’t understand, the stranger then crawled away on their hands quickly, and threw themselves back into the water, white and red tail fins high before disappearing under the water. Katsuki stared for another long moment, unable to comprehend what he’d just seen.

It was only then he realized his hands were no longer bound, and another uncoordinated hand came to his wrist, which was still red and raw from the ropes. He could still feel the dried salt on his skin, could feel his waterlogged clothes still glued to him, the water in his ears throwing off his equilibrium, the sand on literally every part of his body, and he just didn’t understand, couldn’t. The stranger was his savior, one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen in his life, but his guardian angel was something he could barely describe. There was a word for what he’d just seen, but his mind just couldn’t connect what he’d seen to that particular word. He had to go after them, had to go after his angel.

Weak arms tried to push upwards, but he barely got his chest up before he crashed back down to the ground. It should not have taken so much energy to move, but his reserves of energy were spent again, and his eyes fluttered shut. The sound of the waves that drowned him rang in his ears, but his mind began to slip back into darkness, unable to keep himself awake. With his eyes closed and sleep infecting his body like a virus, he missed white and red popping back out of the water, staring at him as he lay on the beach.

“Katsuki!”

Katsuki whimpered from the pitch of the scream, his ears sensitive to the noise, wanting to sink back into sleep. In sleep there was no feeling of being like a dried fish, crusted with salt and stiff from the sun. Moving his whole body was too much energy, so he hoped just turning his head to the side would be enough. But then he heard knees crash to the ground, and the sun was blocked from further drying out his form.

“Katsuki, oh god, Katsuki, fuck, how did you- we thought we lost you, oh my god.” Tears were streaming down his first mate’s face, but the watery smile was so powerful that Katsuki had a hard time focusing on his face. Katsuki was then lifted into a strong embrace with corded muscles holding him tight. “I can’t believe you’re alive. I thought… we thought… alive, you’re alive, god, I can’t believe it.” Kirishima pressed a kiss to his hair, the spikes fluffing up as they dried. And then a couple more in his desperation.

“S’itty hair.” Katsuki croaked out, and then he had to turn to his side to cough out a little more water, his lungs aching in his chest.

Kirishima patted his back gently until the fit subsided, letting him gasp until it was just air, and then held him close once again.

“You’re alive.” Kirishima whispered, holding his head gently, Katsuki without the strength to hold himself up. “You’re alive.”

“Al’ve.” Katsuki gasped, attempting for a smile. Kirishima just gave a watery laugh, shaky and overwhelmed, and pressed their foreheads together. Katsuki’s eyes fluttered shut as they took a moment to breathe together. Air had never tasted so sweet.

“You know, when you said never shall we die, I didn’t think you meant literally.” Kirishima breathed a chuckle, still obviously shaken over what happened. Honestly, so was Katsuki.

“N’ther did I.” Katsuki choked out, trying to laugh this all off, but tears poured down his face before he could stop them. Kirishima pulled him into the nape of his neck, holding him together as Katsuki sobbed with what breath he had. Kirishima pulled his body close to his own, cradling Katsuki in his arms, gently massaging at the back of his head, scratching lightly at his hair, whispering soft comforts and encouraging him to just let himself cry. Katsuki hated crying, but these tears were irrepressible, and he broke down in a way he’d never thought he could.

Katsuki had heard stories of drowning, but none of them compared to what actually happened, how someone actually drowned. Drowning was so painful, so terrifying, it was almost enough to keep him from ever going on the ocean again. Katsuki wasn’t sure how long he cried out his fears into his first mate’s embrace, but eventually his sobs subsided into coughing, heavy breaths.

Acting as if nothing had happened, Kirishima stood, standing with such strength he brought Katsuki up with him. This is why Katsuki had chosen him to be first mate, he knew Katsuki best, as well as their crew. “Come on, captain. Let’s get you home with us.”

Katsuki flopped his arm around Kirishima’s shoulders, and Kirishima took his hip, a position they’d been in many times over the years. It was the closest Katuski got to letting people help him, not wanting to show any weakness as the captain of the Howitzer. But this time Katsuki was so spent and felt so shitty that he just let Kirishima drag him, his feet barely pushing him forward as he tried to walk. He knew it was scaring his first mate, but he couldn’t do anything else. He just had nothing left.

He was halfway to unconsciousness when he heard another shout from voices he recognized, this one of joy. A body wrapped around him, and then another, and then he lost track of all the bodies in his personal bubble. Questions were thrown at him too rapidly for him to understand, and they only stopped when Kirishima loudly cleared his throat.

“Guys, back off.” Kirishima said authoritatively. “He’s been through a lot. Give him some space.”

“But how did he survive, Kiri?” Kaminari said, redirecting his question. “He should’ve drowned, how could he have gotten here, and before us?”

“M’rman.” Katsuki panted, leaning too heavily into Kirishima as black spots teased at his vision.

“Did he just say merman?” Kaminari breathed, shock all over his face. “Like merpeople? Like half fish, half hot person merpeople?”

“Denki, back off, now.” Shinsou said, grabbing Katsuki’s other arm to sling over his shoulder. “He needs rest right now, more than we need answers. He probably got sun sickness laying out there as long as he did.”

Kirishima and Shinsou then grabbed Katsuki’s thighs and lifted him into the air a little, his head lolling to the side limply. The fact that Shinsou could take charge in a crisis was one of the reasons he’d chosen Shinsou for his crew, to tend what medical aid he could. He wasn’t a doctor, but he’d been trained in several arts by a teacher even Katsuki respected. They carried him over to somewhere much shadier, and then set him down on some soft dirt, propped up against a tree. This was the best he’d felt since the battle.

“Help me get his clothes off.” Shinsou said, already starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Shinsou, don’t, you know how he is when it comes to stuff like that.” Kirishima hesitated, placing a hand on Shinsou's shoulder. Even when half-dead, Katsuki could appreciate his first mate's desire to protect him. Kirishima knew he never liked anyone seeing him undressed. He was unashamed of his body, but he was Captain. He was always supposed to be strong, put together, collected. His crew looked to him for strength, and being undressed and vulnerable wasn't strong.

“Staying in these wet clothes is worse for him, he needs to dry off completely, he’ll get sicker.” Shinsou said, Kirishima not even breaking his focus. “Besides, his shirt is white, it’s not like we can’t see everything anyways.”

Kirishima sighed but nodded. His first mate then got his boots off, pulling a noise from him as he hadn’t realized how uncomfortable his boots were until they were off. Kirishima then cupped his cheek, trying to reassure him. Shinsou removed his scarf, and then his shirt, Katsuki completely limp as his crew maneuvered his body, blinking in and out of consciousness. He didn’t even notice them taking his pants off, but he could feel that they were done when they got to his undergarments and he was grateful to his crew for that anyways. Katsuki never liked being undressed, even around his crew, the concept too vulnerable to let anyone see, so his muddied mind was at least grateful for the gesture. He drifted when he felt hands stop touching him, voices unintelligibly whispering around him.

A soft cloth with cool water then touched his forehead, gently brushing across his face, drawing him weakly back to consciousness. After his closed eyes were done, he opened them to see Mina with a bowl of water. River water it felt like, since there wasn’t any salt residue left over and it was washing that same salt from his face. River water had never felt so good on his skin. He tried for a smile, wanting to thank her but without the strength to speak.

“It’s okay, captain, we’ve got you.” Mina said, kissing his cheek. “We’ll figure out how to get out of here. It’s our turn to protect you. You can rest now.”

That brought out a genuine, if exhausted, smile. Tomorrow, when he was more coherent, had more strength, he’d tell his crew the tale of his guardian angel, of how he was rescued, and what he thought he’d been rescued by. But for now, his eyes just closed, and he drifted to sleep, completely confident that his crew would get them out of this. Instead of the nightmares he was prone to, tonight he dreamt of his angel with those incredible eyes and inexplicable tail.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Day 8, 11, 16, 25, 27- Stricken

In trying to rescue Kaminari from his own dumbassery, Katsuki gets struck by lightning

lightning, burn, pain, guilt, friendship

“Come on, Kachaaan.” Kaminari whined, making this the fiftieth time in ten minutes that he’d gotten complained at. “Please? We won’t bug you about anything ever again.”

“That’s a fucking lie.” Katsuki shouted back, staring up at his idiot that was currently stuck on the roof of the gym. “Bugging me is your favorite thing to do. Wait, no, it’s your second. Getting into dumb shit that can very easily be avoided is your favorite.”

“Heeeyyy!” Kaminari pouted.

“Seriously, Bakugou, can’t you get him down?” Ashido joined in, marking fifty-one. “I promise we’ll make it up to you.”

Katsuki just glared at her. “What am I? A dog for you to play fetch with? It’s not my fault the dumbass flung the damn thing on the roof in the first place, and making the fucking stupid decision to get himself up there without being able to get down.”

“Yeah, but if we get the teachers, then we’re gonna get in trouble.” Ashido said.

“You deserve to get in trouble.” Katsuki snapped.

“Kachaaaaaaan.” Kaminari called again from the roof. Katsuki didn’t even know how he’d gotten himself up there. “Please?”

“Please, bro?” And there was fifty-two from Kirishima, and twin please faces assaulted him. “Since Sero’s still laid up, we can’t ask him. You’re the only one who can blast up there and get him down without issue.”

Katsuki cursed Sero in his head again. Ever since that bastard broke his damn arm, everyone had come whining to him to blast himself up somewhere since he was one of the only ones in their class with that kind of precision in his quirk. Honestly, sometimes it felt like Sero did it on purpose just to get a fucking break from all this bullshit.

Katsuki turned back up to Kaminari, looking down on them from the roof, a third please face staring at him. The dark clouds behind him matched Katsuki’s mood perfectly.

Goddammit, he hated these fucking idiots.

“Give me the rope.”

Three cheers erupted from each of his idiots, and the rope that ponytail had made them was thrust into his hands. “You owe me big time for this. Especially you, dunce face!”

“Okay, Kacchan!” Kaminari chirped, moving into the middle of the roof to give Katsuki space.

Katsuki wrapped the rope around his shoulder, and got into his proper stance. A quick deep breath, and he ignited his quirk, propelling himself into the air. After training so hard to perfect his Howitzer Impact, flying through the air with his quirk was a breeze. He’d only needed one shot to get himself high enough, and his foot went out to step onto the roof.

(ask temi for sound of thunder)

Burnt ozone. Katsuki barely recognized the smell, but it was there. Before Katsuki’s heart could beat once more, fire erupted from his right shoulder, sending an unfathomable agony across each and every one of his nerves, setting them alight with a heat that couldn’t be quenched. Katsuki’s vision whited sharply, unable to hear the scream his body was making, unable to see the horrified looks on his friends’ faces, unable to see the pure light surrounding him like a fallen angel’s hellfire descent. His body went limp and he didn’t even feel it, so consumed with the burning, wretched fury of pain. Freefalling through the air, he felt like he was falling into a black hole. Darkness engulfed him, saving his mind from tumbling into the inferno of pure torment.

White light flashed across his eyelids, and he could feel sparks running up and down his body, causing his muscles to lightly convulse against his will. As he began to wake, his mind sank further and further into static, a white noise like pelting raindrops and indecipherable noises, only cognizant of the blinding pain stemming from his shoulder.

“Wake up, Bakugou, please wake up!”

His throat wasn’t his own, only gasps and groans could pass his lips, so he couldn’t answer his best friend. It took several moments to recognize that it was Kirishima, but he was still talking, still begging him to wake up, and the constantness of Kirishima’s voice allowed him to figure out who was talking. He couldn’t move his arms or legs to move out of the water that was pelting him, with every drop being a sharp knife stabbing into his skin. There was a soft pressure on his cheek, but he couldn’t remember why it was there, the last thing he could remember was Kaminari being stuck on the roof. He suddenly became aware of an intense heat under his skin, starting from his shoulder and going all across his body, burning his body from the inside out. His only thought became the hot, searing pain in his shoulder, and he lost reality once more.

A soothing, icy touch pressed against his shoulder, thin but firm, and with it, the scorching, fiery pain settled into a mere boiling of his blood instead of all-consuming agony. He grasped onto consciousness as best as he could, pulling another low groan from his throat, as if he were trying to scream from the agony but didn’t have enough control over his body to do so. A steady thrum ran through his perception of consciousness, growing stronger with rapid intensity until he felt as if he were a live wire. Crackling energy raced from his shoulder into his limbs, setting his nerves alight with sensation, with an overstimulated feeling to the point where it was as if the very air was tangible, almost crunchy as he moved through it.

Every aspect of him hurt, hurt in a way that he couldn’t describe with mere words. He wanted to ask what happened, what was causing those white sparks to flash across his closed eyelids, but his throat was too busy trying to pull in weak air to his twitching lungs to try and satisfy his boiling blood. He’d been burned before, an explosive quirk meant a lot of burns in training, but this wasn't like anything he’d ever suffered. Sweat poured down his face, and he could feel his muscles still shaking with every second, his heart feeling like it was missing something every three times. He tried to latch onto the voices around him, using them as the only thing keeping him from losing his mind to the violent, blazing torment in his shoulder. The weak, reedy breaths he managed to take did little to ease the pain, to lift the static in his mind to give him control of himself once again.

Several hands came to his body, the soft pressure leaving his cheek, going under his head, his back, his legs. The voices around him were stronger, closer to him, and he felt them lift him into the air. He couldn’t help the exhausted, pained whimper from escaping his traitorous throat as another white flash erupted across his eyelids, each miniscule movement drawing another piece of agony to each individual nerve in the cruciation that had once been his shoulder. Darkness pulled at his closed eyes, as if knowing he was weak, so weak he could barely think coherently, but his will power burned a different kind of fire under his skin to try and stay awake.

Every single second, every movement sent a new agony through him, the electric crackling in his muscles making even breathing hurt. It would be so easy to just stop, to just give up and let darkness take him, but he couldn’t do that. Giving up just wasn’t in his blood, boiling as it was. Water was running down his face, and he wondered if he had the strength to cry, or if it was the water stabbing into him with every droplet. His breath was pulled from his body, leaving him for too long, just making his lungs twitch and convulse even more, each second bringing a new wave of agony to the forefront of his mind.

Katsuki felt himself being placed on something stiff that wasn’t the ground he’d just been on, grass no longer stabbing into his back. But small, wet bullets dug into his skin, and the heat in his blood reached unfathomable levels, and he lost reality again as what he was laying on lurched to life, moving at a speed he couldn’t comprehend. Time slipped through his hands like water from a faucet, but somehow it was as slow as molasses at the same time. Katsuki’s mind couldn’t keep up, and the darkness that had been taunting him since he’d woken up pounced, and he fell sharply into the nothingness that it promised.

“Lightning?!?” Katsuki shouted incredulously. “I was struck by fucking lightning?!?”

Aizawa nodded, and Katsuki reeled from the shock. “From what I can figure out, when you went up in the air to get Kaminari down from the roof, you caught the edge of the thunderstorm that was just starting. Thankfully, you only caught a side flash, a direct one that close to your heart would’ve killed you. You were very, very lucky.”

Katsuki just stared in disbelief at his teacher for a minute, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’d just been struck by lightning. Unconsciously, his left hand came to his right shoulder, feeling the tender flesh beneath his fingers. When he’d gotten healed by Recovery Girl in the past, he could barely feel any lingering aches in his body once she was done, the only exception being Nabu island and that fight with Nine. He still couldn’t remember what happened and how his arms had gotten so destroyed, but he remembered how it felt after Recovery Girl had healed him. It had felt so odd when the damage was so deep that there was leftover pain, and it felt just as odd now. His hand dropped to his lap, not wanting to prod the still sensitive burn on his shoulder. He’d never been more glad that humans can’t remember pain, he only had flashes of broken memories after the strike and before waking up in the infirmary, and he never wanted to go after those memories. He never thought he’d be happy about forgetting something.

He just nodded at his teacher, understanding what he was saying.

“Recovery Girl has cleared you to head back to the dorms, but you’re still out of classes for a week.” Aizawa said, handing him some folded clothes. He took them, opening his mouth to protest, but Aizawa just held up a hand. “No. Lightning strikes can have several consequences, including paralysis and cardiac arrest. What your body needs now is rest, and you’re going to get it. The only reason that you’re allowed to go back to the dorms is because I know that you wouldn’t get any actual rest staying in here for a week. You need to be careful with yourself. Not many people survive what you just went through. Now get dressed, your classmates are already chomping at the bit to see you again.”

Katsuki frowned at that, he didn’t want to be swarmed with those extras, but he supposed if one of them got struck by lightning and almost died (gods he almost died) he’d want to see that they were okay. Not that he cared, because of course he didn’t, but just because a near death experience meant that he might have to deal with someone new. If one of those extras died, he’d have to deal with a replacement and they might be worse, so best to check to make sure that the extras he was at least used to were still alive.

The skull tee and comfortable leggings that only Kirishima could’ve gotten him, as he was the only one who Katsuki allowed into his always locked room, were a small mercy he appreciated. The hospital clothes he was in now were uncomfortable and ill-fitting, and Katsuki hated being in them. Aizawa patted his leg gently, and then headed out. Katsuki headed to the changing room, ready to be out of these clothes and out of this building. He hated that he was going to be out of class for a week over nothing, but right now, he was looking forward to lying down in his own bed. Katsuki was seriously tired of the beds in the infirmary.

Apparently the lightning strike had also set fire to his clothes, so he’d been given a pathetic hospital tent canvass and gym shorts, and he practically ripped them off. His arm and shoulder were still bandaged even though he’d been healed, but it wasn’t the bandage that caught his eye. It was what was coming out of it. There were a couple new lines of raised pink lines on his skin that hadn’t been there the last time he looked in a mirror. A quick touch had him wincing lightly, as it seemed like the origin of the pain still in his shoulder. Even though he knew he probably shouldn’t take the bandage off, his hands had already started unwinding it, revealing more pink as he went. Several lines of fresh scars decorated his shoulder now, branching out from his shoulder to his collarbone, all leading back to his shoulder. At the joint, there was a mass of them, a small blob of scar where all the branches ran from. This must be where he’d gotten struck, the scars all stemming from here. It was like a tree’s roots spread all over his body.

Katsuki’s breath left him for a moment. Even with the other injuries he’d ever had, including the final exam, there were never any scars left over. Recovery Girl’s quirk didn’t leave scars. This was the first scar he’d ever gotten in his life. His lungs stuttered in his chest, his heart skipped a beat, and then another. Gods… he could’ve died. He almost died. If he had shot himself up in the air just a little bit higher, he would’ve died.

Hastily, he rewrapped the bandages, pushing down the tears building in his eyes. He was fine now, he was fine now. It didn’t matter that he’d almost died, he didn’t. Gods, he almost died. A few tears slipped down his cheeks, and he scrubbed violently at them. Once the bandage was completely rewrapped, looking as if he hadn’t touched it even though his hands had started shaking, he shoved both hands into his eyes. Stop crying, he told himself. He was fine now, that was all that mattered. This pathetic display of emotion was unnecessary, and he didn’t like spending any time on unnecessary emotions. They were useless to him, so he stuffed them down as far as he possibly could, until he couldn’t feel them anymore.

It took another minute for his heaving breaths to steady out again, and he just put his clothes on, as if nothing had happened. He didn’t dare look in the mirror again. He couldn’t risk another bout of those horrible, and completely unnecessary emotions. He didn’t die. That was all that mattered. He just had to keep telling himself that until he believed it.

If his eyes were still red, then Aizawa at least had the good grace not to say anything. Katsuki was thankful for that. They walked in comfortable silence back to the dorms, the route unusually quiet for a Saturday night. Normally, the weekends had lots of people running around.

“Why is it so quiet?” Katsuki asked casually. “Everyone’s always out on the weekends.”

“That’s because it’s monday.” Aizawa sighed, pursing his lips. “You’ve been unconscious for a long time.”

Katsuki’s heart skipped another beat. His throat got a little tight, only able to make a small, affirmative noise, but he just shoved his emotions down again. It was fine. He was more upset about missing the weekend. That was definitely the bigger issue here. He hated missing out on good sparring time, and he liked to get in some good studying before the weekend was out. He distracted himself from the missing time with the thought that at least he’d get in plenty of studying time when he was resting.

The dorms were quieter than expected. Even on school nights, there were still some idiots, usually his idiots, who were making too much noise and staying up too late. But he couldn’t hear his friends laughing and chattering at each other, or even the other extras really. His constant scowl got deeper.

“He’s back!”

Katsuki couldn’t even process the shout before something hard slammed into him. Arms wrapped around his body, squeezing hard. Two arms became four, and then six, with two more lumps crashing into him. Katsuki’s eye twitched. He’d never allowed his friends to hug him before, and now he was completely trapped by Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari to where he couldn’t even move his arms. A seventh joined him, and Sero was at his side, squeezing lightly with one arm, as the other was still in a sling.

“Let. go. now.” Katsuki growled, completely overwhelmed by the sudden influx of touch. His skin was still crawling even when they let go. Katsuki just grit his teeth as they all bombarded him with their shouts.

“Are you okay?”

“We’re so sorry.”

“How do you feel?”

“Gods, we’re so sorry!”

Katsuki’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as he looked at his friends’ crying faces. Tears stained Ashido’s cheeks, Kaminari’s too, and Sero and Kirishima’s eyes were both red. While his friends had approached him first, he could feel everyone staring at him, looking him over silently. Dammit, he couldn’t handle this kind of attention.

“Just shut up, all of you!” He snapped. “I’m fine, it’s over. Doesn’t matter. Leave me alone.”

Instead of doing as he asked, Kaminari just attacked him again, hugging him very tightly, sniffling in his ear. “I’m so sorry, Bakugou! You weren’t supposed to get hurt, I’ll never ask you to do something ever again. I’m so sorry.”

Awkwardly, Katsuki patted Kaminari’s back as his electric idiot started sobbing into his good shoulder. He’d never been put in this position before, he had no idea what to do or how to get him to stop.

“It’s fine, pikachu.” Katsuki gritted out. “You can stop now.”

This time, Kaminari listened. He pulled back, still loudly sniffling but not crying on him anymore. That was at least some progress.

“I’m fine, back the fuck off.” Katsuki snarled, still very overwhelmed since his friends hadn’t gotten out of his personal space.

“Oh! I made you something!” Kaminari then exclaimed, running back into the dorms. Katsuki took that moment to get past the porch, and actually head back inside. Kaminari had run to the kitchen, and come back with a plate, covered with tinfoil. It was then thrust into his hands.

Katsuki didn’t know what possessed him to take it, but when he unwrapped the foil, he found misshapen cookies underneath. He couldn’t even tell what kind they were.

“They’re spicy, I put in extra chilly flakes.” Oh gods, these were going to taste horrendous. “And some of your coffee beans too.” Oh gods, these were going to taste horrendous.

But… he couldn’t deny his friend. As much as he was very annoyed and irritated right now with his friends’ actions, there was something in him that wouldn’t let him outwardly throw them away or disparage them. He couldn’t imagine being in Kaminari’s shoes, having someone getting struck by lightning because you did something stupid. Granted, he never did anything stupid (well, maybe not never, but it was very rare) so he’d never end up in Kaminari’s shoes, but… he couldn’t do it. Especially not with Kaminari looking at him so sincerely. In the past, he would’ve called it pity, but he didn’t think it was. He knew now what Kaminari looked like when he was upset, this was a lot closer to when he knew he’d disappointed Katsuki than feeling sorry for him.

“I’m not hungry.” Katsuki said, and he wasn’t. His voice dropped a couple octaves. “I’ll take them up to my room.”

Kaminari brightened a little at that.

“I’m going to bed, now leave me the fuck alone, losers.” Katsuki said, heading to the elevator. His friends followed just a little, wanting to hover over him, but they knew better thankfully, and didn’t follow him into the elevator. His bedroom door was unlocked, and he scowled at it, but he found a new set of keys on his nightstand. His keys had probably caught fire too in his pocket.

Morbid curiosity taunted him, and he took a small bite from one of the cookies. Immediately, he spit it out into the trash, gagging on the terrible taste. That was one of the worst things he’d ever had in his life. He had to figure out how to get rid of these without Kaminari finding out. It was definitely one of the worst foods he’d ever had in his life, but Kaminari wasn’t one of the worst people he’d ever had in his life, and he supposed intention is more important than the outcome.

Katsuki thought about changing into pajamas, but decided that he didn’t care enough to put in the effort, and he just flopped into bed. He took a long deep breath, and closed his eyes, ready to go to sleep. He wasn’t exactly tired, but it was late, and he had his routine to keep. 

His breathing became erratic, and he couldn’t stop it. Tears built up behind his eyes and he couldn’t push them down. The hands that he’d placed behind his head as he usually did when he was calming down to sleep slid down to grasp at his own arms.

Now that he was alone in his room, he couldn’t keep his emotions down any longer, and he curled a little into a ball and just started sobbing. He buried his face in his pillow, hiding his face as he cried, the shame of being unable to control himself was smothered by the grief and terror that flooded his mind like a broken dam. He almost died. The slightest change in any movement, and he would’ve died. He hadn’t felt anything like this since Kamino, but he’d been able to smother his feelings better then. He’d had adversaries, he’d had distractions. He’d been terrified for his life, but he refused to let the League see how scared he was. He’d been able to hide it so well he’d even hidden it from himself. But he couldn’t hide this, not when he could still feel the lingering ache in his shoulder, could still feel the raised pink lines now etched into his shoulder, and he couldn’t hide just how terrified that made him.

Gods, he’d almost died.

Katsuki wasn’t sure how long he’d cried, it wasn’t like he timed it, but eventually, he drifted into a sort of half-doze. It was a very light sleep, not deep enough to dream, his mind floating back up to consciousness occasionally but never waking him up fully.

A quiet knock startled him out of it completely.

“Um, Bakugou?” Ah. Kaminari again. He wondered when he was gonna get back to calling him Kacchan. It would feel like a return to normal, even if he didn’t like being called that.

Katsuki got out of bed, scrubbing at his face, trying to erase any sign of tear tracks on his cheeks. He opened the door and raised an eyebrow. “What, pikachu?”

“Um, about the cookies.” Kaminari said, and he saw the uneaten cookies on Katsuki’s nightstand. But before he could answer, say that he’d eat them later, Kaminari continued. “You don’t have to eat them. I know they’re gross. I had a couple left over that didn’t come out right, and we tried them and I think I poisoned Kirishima. so. you don’t have to. You shouldn’t have to get hurt twice because of me.”

The smile that Kaminari tried and failed to make just made Katsuki feel bad for him. Kaminari was always so happy and chipper, even if sometimes he was panicked about it, and seeing him feeling this low made the emotions he was still feeling flare up.

“Next time you feel like making cookies, don’t.” Katsuki grumbled, huffing quietly. Kaminari just shrunk at that, like a heavy weight had been placed on his shoulders. “And ask me for help first.”

Happiness bloomed on Kaminari’s face like a sunflower at dawn.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Day 5, 9, 10, 17, 18, 30- Lost in the Darkness

aka Working very hard to keep Bakugou blindfolded the entire story

prompts- pinned down, stranded, you're a liar, touch aversion, blindfold, bridal carry- building collapse, broken bones, head injury, Bakugou being Bakugou, Kiri not taking his shit hehe

AO3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50415793

Sometimes Katsuki entertains the idea that he might regret coming to U.A.

He didn’t, he would never accept anything less than the school that All Might attended, but circumstances like this gave him plenty of time to think. Especially since he couldn’t do literally anything else at the moment. Currently, he was blindfolded, with his hands tied behind his back, suspended in the air hanging from a rope that was connected to a harness, being forced to pretend to be a hostage. As much as the training scenarios were as close to real life as they could be, hanging from a singular rope tied to a ceiling was not something to be fucked around with, and Katsuki could be grateful at least that he wouldn’t get injured by his classmates’ idiocy in this shitty simulation. He wouldn’t put it past them to just cut him down without warning him so he fell flat on his face. They really were that stupid. As soon as they’d gotten him in the air, he’d wanted to get out of his restraints himself, perfectly capable of rescuing himself, but Aizawa had told him that if he didn’t play his ‘randomly’ assigned role (bullshit, Aizawa never left anything up to chance) as ‘regular citizen’, then Katsuki would lose an entire grade over it. Damn fucker was using his stellar academic record against him, and Katsuki had to admit, it was currently working. As impressed as he was that Aizawa had found something that got him to go along with this dumb exercise, Katsuki also never hated his teacher more than right now.

So, unfortunately, here he was. Hanging here, in complete silence, cut off from the world around him. God, this fucking sucked. Had to be one of the most humiliating things he’d done since getting to this school, and to make matters worse, he was so bored. The classmates who were pretending to be the villains who ‘captured’ him had left him ages ago, off fighting the heroes of the exercise, being serious fucking idiots as you should never leave a hostage alone because you don’t know what they’ll do or the heroes plan and then you lose your bargaining chip. … Sue him, he was bored, he could think both sides’ actions through, and he certainly wouldn’t have acted this dumb, and he’d win the battle against anyone assigned to be his enemy. That first fight with Deku was an outlier, and Katsuki refused to count it.

Noises caught his attention, and Katsuki hoped that this shit would be over soon. He just wanted to go to his room, make a pot of coffee, and forget today with some violent video games he could take his anger out on. Maybe if he was lucky, Kirishima would be down to play too. He always felt better after annihilating one of his friends. But then the noises shifted, and Katsuki carefully turned his head, trying to pinpoint where they were coming from without getting the rope to spin.

“Bakugou!” Dunce face. Wonderful. “Guys, I found him, come on!”

More noises followed her shout, footsteps, and he sensed the area around him fill up with people. He’d been right, as he always was, going off to the fight and leaving him alone was a dumb move by his classmates and they’d gotten their asses kicked. From what he could hear, since they still hadn’t taken off the damn blindfold, dunce face, pink cheeks, and shitty hair had come to his ‘rescue’. Joy. At least pink cheeks had some measure of sense when Deku wasn’t involved, and Kirishima would hopefully keep Kaminari from being too stupid for his own good. He supposed this was the best out of a shitty situation since he was stuck here anyways.

“So how do we get him down?” Kaminari asked. “If we just cut him down, he’ll fall.”

Katsuki bit his lip, trying to keep himself in check. The answer was so obvious Katsuki could’ve screamed.

“Ooh, Uraraka, if you float him, I can cut the rope.” Thank god, Katsuki thought that discovery was going to take them three more years as they chattered.

“On it, Kirishima!”

Five fingers came to his chest, and the horrible feeling of weightlessness infected his whole body. Katsuki had never liked pink cheeks quirk in the first place, and he hated it even more now. He hated not being in control of his own body. Katsuki bit his lip harder.

Katsuki swung a little as Kirishima sawed through the rope, and he felt it when the rope attached to his harness suddenly went limp. He floated around for a moment before he got too fed up with their idiocy.

“Let me down. Now.” Katsuki hissed, his voice as venomous as a snake.

He could tell he surprised pink cheeks in her gasp, even though they still hadn’t taken off the goddamn blindfold, but he seriously didn’t give a shit. This day was shitty enough, he didn’t need her to add to it more than necessary. He heard her speak her stupid words, she really didn’t need to say it every time, from what he could tell of her quirk, but he used the sound to prepare for the sudden fall he was about to experience.

The freefall he was expecting got interrupted by strong arms, Kirishima balancing him so he could stand on his own without falling over. Under the blindfold they still hadn’t taken off, his eye twitched. And he thought today couldn’t get any worse, but he supposed he’d underestimated just how fucking stupid these assholes were.

“What do we do now?” Kaminari said, doing fuck knows what.

“How about you untie me?” Katsuki growled, his desire to keep his grades perfect fighting with his desire to just fuck all this shit and take the fucking hit so he could be fucking done.

“I got you, bro!” Kirishima said, and Katsuki heard Kirishima’s quirk go off again. He felt a swish behind his back, and his arms were finally freed from those damn uncomfortable ropes.

“Fucking finally.” Katsuki muttered, rubbing at his wrists. “Took you idiots long enough.”

Katsuki’s hand went to the blindfold, ready to rip it off himself, when the whole building shook. He instinctively put his hands out to steady himself, and before anyone could speak, Katsuki felt the ground crack and split open, and they were all freefalling with a shout. Katsuki had a single moment to curse in his head, as apparently things could get worse, and he’d just jinxed himself. But before he could try anything that might mitigate the shit the building collapse had started, his head crashed into something hard and unyielding, sending bright sparks across his eyes before he fell into a darkness a blindfold couldn’t create. 

~~

Katsuki’s first thought as he slowly rose to consciousness was that his whole body hurt, and he didn’t know why. He could feel heavy weights pressing down on him, completely covering his right arm, left hip, and there was one pushing directly on his face. His face was sticky, his arm was sticky, and his hip was throbbing two beats faster than his heart. He groaned, trying to move to escape the weights but they kept him pinned down, his legs scraping on dust, sliding through the dirty ground like a waterslide.

“Hold on, I think I heard him.” He knew that voice. That was… that was…

Oh shit. As he heard his best friend, memories came rushing back to his mind. Putting on the harness in the unhappiest way, being lifted into the air, and Aizawa handing him the blindfold to put on before his teacher gently tied his hands behind his back. Chattering voices from his idiot classmates, who joined him only to leave him there a little while later. Other voices of different people, Kirishima cutting him down, cutting the ropes, and then the ground disappearing out from under them. The building must’ve collapsed, that’s what the weights were, debris from the cave in. And the blindfold was still on his fucking face.

Kirishima must’ve found him, because soon the weights were being lifted off of him, and he heard a soft, “fuck.” The weight on his face was lifted very slowly, gently, and fingers probed at Katsuki’s temple, and he twitched as Kirishima disturbed the dried sticky shit on his face and in his hair. He was pretty sure it was blood, but he couldn’t be sure, as who knows what kind of plumbing had been disturbed when they’d fallen. Be easier for him if it wasn’t blood, though.

“Kami, get over here, turn up the light. Bakugou’s hurt!” No shit, Kirishima. Why not say other obvious shit like they were in trouble or that they were trapped?

Kaminari must be using his quirk to have his electricity crackle around him, giving them what light they could get. Light began to penetrate his darkness, and he shut his eyes harder, the light stabbing needles into his brain. A pained gasp slipped out unconsciously, and his left arm tried to shield his eyes from the light, but Kirishima took his hand, and held it.

“Easy, bro, you took a lot of damage.” Kirishima murmured. If Kirishima kept saying super obvious things that didn’t need to be said, Katsuki was going to blow him up.

Katsuki ripped his hand out of Kirishima’s, and came to his face. Since none of these assholes would finally take off this goddamned blindfold, he was going to do it himself. But as he pushed the fabric upwards, strobe lights blinded him, his vision going white as he screamed. A hand pulled his away, the blindfold falling back into place. Firecrackers of light assaulted his mind, taking away his ability to process the world around him. Flashes of what he’d managed to see popped through his mind, Kirishima with minimal cuts and a few bruises, Kaminari’s jacket tied around Uraraka’s bloody shoulder as a tourniquet, and Kaminari was nothing but an essence of overly powerful, bright light.

“Bakugou, what’s wrong?”

All he could manage was a strained, “bright.”

Kirishima’s fingers pinched at the blindfold, putting himself in between Katsuki and Kaminari, and through the shining light setting his nerves on fire, he could see his best friend frown before putting the blindfold back. “Shit.”

“What is it, Kirishima?” Kaminari asked, sounding unsettled, like he had in the mall training. Two was enough for a pattern for Katsuki, he was going to rage at Aizawa for letting this happen to him again, and swear that he wasn’t doing anything like this again until the teachers fixed this shit so a third time never happened.

“Bakugou, I think you have a concussion or something.” Kirishima muttered, knowing to talk to him despite the fact that it had been Uraraka that had asked. Katsuki hated being talked about like he wasn’t there. “And your arm totally looks broken, dude.”

Even though Katsuki couldn’t see it, he knew Kirishima was biting the inside of his cheek. It was one of his nervous habits. But a head wound meant the stickiness on his face was blood, and that complicated shit. Adding a broken arm to the mix was a disadvantage he would struggle to get through, but Katsuki refused to let this stop him. The marathon this had been going to be had just turned into a triathlon. Fuck. Still, he could do a triathlon with his eyes closed.

Actually, he was going to have to. Katsuki could see the overpowering light still through the blindfold, but it was easier to deal with with the blindfold on. Goddammit, his day could not get any-- stop. Don’t jinx yourself again. He didn’t know how this could get worse, and he didn’t want to know. Today fucking sucked ass, he should leave it at that.

“You with us, bro?” Kirishima asked, and he realized he’d been getting talked to, but honestly he couldn’t care less.

“Yeah.” He muttered. “Just figuring out how to get us out of here.”

Since Kirishima had removed the debris, Katsuki was able to lean to his left side, using his good side to get himself up. He could practically hear Kirishima wanting to help him, but he also knew Katsuki wouldn’t accept it. His left leg was shaky, his hip screaming at him to stop, but pain was just a call he didn’t have to answer. Pain never stopped All Might, therefore it wouldn’t stop him.

But as soon as he got himself as upright as he could, a bout of dizziness hit him, and he lost his balance, crashing into Kirishima. His best friend fumbled a bit catching him, making a surprised noise, but got him standing after a moment.

“Okay, dude, I’m sorry, I know you hate this, but you can’t walk by yourself.” Kirishima said, regret lacing his words, infuriating him. Kirishima was the only one he could trust not to pity him, but he still hated needing his help. Kirishima had learned the language Katsuki spoke, to know when to ask for something because Katsuki needed it but wouldn’t say it, to brush everything off as not an issue because Katsuki didn’t want to talk about it, ever. This wasn’t his language and Katsuki growled at him, the warning sign that he was about to get his shit rocked.

But Kirishima never took his shit, so he just adjusted Katsuki so his left arm was slung around Kirishima’s shoulders. And he thought that being tied up was humiliating.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima said, lowering his voice so only he could hear. “You can’t take the blindfold off, Kami’s light is too strong for your concussion, and you can’t walk. Just this once, let me help you. Let me be your crutch.”

Oh damn him for using that shit against him. He let Deku be his crutch one time and they never let him live it down. Katsuki was going to find a reason to blow Deku up for this, whether it was a good reason or not. This was all his fault anyway.

Regardless of how he felt though, Kirishima was right. He couldn’t see, and being trapped under a bunch of debris was not something that he could get out of on his own if he was blind. He couldn’t even see what was in front of him, the light radiating off Kaminari too bright for him to see anything but blurs and blobs of where he assumed people and objects were.

It felt like swallowing broken glass, but he ground out a quiet, “fine.”

“Thanks, dude.” Kirishima whispered, wrapping his arm around Katsuki’s waist. He hobbled them over to the others, Katsuki struggling to walk in step with Kirishima since he couldn’t fucking see where the bastard was stepping. God, he just wanted today to end.

“Dude, Bakugou, you look like shit.” Kaminari exclaimed, crackling faintly.

Katsuki tried to shy away from the bright light without looking like he was doing that. “If anyone else says one more blatantly obvious thing, I’m gonna blow all three of you up.”

He heard Kaminari’s, “yeesh, sorry” but it was soon drowned out by pink cheeks.

“Hush, Bakugou. You can’t do that anyways, you’ll just make this worse, unless you want this to cave in more. Now, we need to take care of your arm. Okay, what can we use to make a sling?”

Lots of ideas were discussed, and shot down violently by Katsuki, but eventually he allowed Kirishima to take the harness off and use that, Katsuki using his good arm on Kirishima’s shoulder to keep himself upright. Katsuki refused to let any noise of pain out again, but internally he was screaming as Kirishima moved. Oh yeah, his arm was definitely broken, it felt like almost a Deku level of broken, and when Kirishima finally stopped and took his waist again, Katsuki was trying to minimize his heavy panting and shove down the tears in his eyes.

“Here, Kirishima, I can make Bakugou float so it’s not as hard for you to carry him.” Uraraka said, way too chipper for what she was saying.

Katsuki felt a flash of panicked anger ignite in his chest. Not being in control of his body when he was trapped and blind was a step too far, and he didn’t care what it meant for him to refuse it. He’d rather drag his own ass out of here on his own, completely blind, then have the last thing he had taken from him. Control over his body was something he refused external assistance for, and he would not let her steal that from him, he didn’t care how hurt he was.

Sensing her fingers as they began to brush his skin, Katsuki kicked out at her. “Don’t touch me!”

He must have connected with Kaminari accidentally, as he got a static shock from it, but the “ow!” Kaminari made made up for it a little.

“Bakugou! Don’t kick me!” Pink cheeks squealed, which just made his resolve stronger. He ignored Kaminari’s, “don’t kick me either!”

“Then don’t fucking touch me.”

“Come on, man.” Kirishima said in his ear. “We need to get out of here.”

“I’m not letting that bitch touch me.” Katsuki growled back.

Pink cheeks made an affronted shout, but Kirishima was quick to understand what Katsuki was actually saying, that her quirk was off limits.

“He doesn’t mean it, Uraraka,” uh, yes the fuck he did, “but I’ve got him. He’s not heavy to me.”

Somehow Katsuki got a sappy vibe from that comment and he promptly ignored it.

“If you say so, Kirishima.” Uraraka said, doing that stupid pouty face she made when she was trying to be serious. He didn’t have to see it, he could hear it just fine.

“Come on guys, let’s get out of here.” Kirishima said, and they started walking. “There’s a path, Bakugou, if there’s anything you can trip on, I’ll handle it.”

Kirishima kept to the back, not leaving Kaminari’s light but also trying to keep as much of it off Katsuki as he could. This is why Kirishima was his best friend, even though he hadn’t actually wanted a best friend when he came to this school. But Kirishima understood him, helped without helping, didn’t shove his weakness back in Katsuki’s face. When they got back, he supposed he could make too much gyūdon and give the other bits to Kirishima for this. He supposed it’s been a while since he had that, and he could just randomly have a craving for a meatier dish.

The more they walked, the more Katsuki couldn’t help leaning on Kirishima. Each step with his left foot sent another bolt of pure agony to his hip, and every step with his right jostled his arm, and Katsuki’s head was already swimming from so much movement that he could barely keep track of the world beyond the pain. With the blindfold keeping the torturous light away, he couldn’t see the worried looks his friends were shooting him, only being able to sense a tension rising in the air, unable to place where it was coming from. It was strangely quiet as they walked, which unsettled him. Kaminari usually was a motor mouth, Katsuki always had to yell at him to be quiet. But now, no one was talking, and that didn’t seem right.

Suddenly, the light stopped, and they all froze.

“Kaminari!” Pink cheeks shrieked, the sound sending another bolt from his ear to his brain, and then back. He couldn’t be worried about Kaminari for a minute, he was so wrapped up in agony.

He heard knees and hands hit the floor along with winded gasps. Kaminari must have been pushing the limits of his control, his quirk more suited for attacks rather than support, keeping the volts so close to him had been exhausting him. As worried as he wouldn’t admit he was for his idiot, he was more worried that this would make dunce face go into whey mode. Not only would they lose what little light they had, but Katsuki wouldn’t be the only one out of commission, and Katsuki didn’t think their little group could take much more.

“I’m okay.” Kaminari panted, and the light started up again, but it was duller. “I’ll be fine. Plus ultra, right?”

The light was so dull in comparison to what Kaminari had before, that he reached around Kirishima’s neck, strangling him a little but for a good reason, and he peeled back the blindfold for a moment. It was still too bright, driving icepicks into his brain, but he could make out his friends now. Uraraka had knelt down to Kaminari’s level, and Kaminari was trembling, but from what Katsuki wasn’t sure. To let Kirishima breathe, he let go.

“Take a breather, man, you’ve been going for like, forever.” Kirishima said, and again the light went out, as the sound of shifting echoed in the darkness.

Katsuki never liked darkness, not that he was afraid of it like a baby or anything, but he never liked being able to see what and who was around him. Especially since… well. He supposed both. Kamino had only added onto what had happened with the sludge villain. But being plunged into darkness now wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, and he was glad to hear Kaminari’s breath evening out.

Standing was becoming unbearable as they waited for Kaminari to be ready again. His left leg was trembling fiercely, and his right wasn’t doing much better. His arm was still against his chest, but just being upright was making him dizzy, the world spinning painfully, like being stabbed into a ceiling fan as it rotated. At this point, Katsuki was standing on pure willpower alone. He wouldn’t fall, he already had to lean on Kirishima, he wouldn’t embarrass himself further and fucking fall. He wasn’t Deku, clumsy as fuck and idiotic. He. wouldn’t. fall.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Kaminari said, though they could all hear the exhaustion still in his voice. But the relief Katsuki felt might’ve slipped through, as Kirishima adjusted his hold a little, taking on more of Katsuki’s weight.

The sound of electricity crackled in the air, the light reappearing. It wasn’t as bright as when Katsuki had first woken up, but it was better than Kaminari’s second attempt. Still too bright for him to take off the blindfold, but instead of thirty icepicks digging violently into his brain, now there were only twenty.

Katsuki realized he’d been wrong before, standing wasn’t agony, but continuing to walk now was excruciating, so much worse than standing. His steps shuffled a little, his mind unable to send the signal to lift them up all the way, and Kirishima had to take more of his weight. He was practically carrying Katsuki by his waist, Kirishima’s arm wrapped almost all the way around.

A rumbling sound in the distance.

“Did you hear that?”

“That sounded like--”

The rumbling got closer. Katsuki could just barely make out the sound of roof cracking under too much stress.

“Shit, run!”

Footsteps took off, but instead of his own following, Katsuki felt Kirishima shove him to the ground, cracking his head again on the hard ground, and he just barely felt Kirishima’s hardening activate before he passed out again.

With every breath he took, he felt his chest brush something stiff, and he could hear heavy breaths that weren’t his own.

“Shitty hair.” Katsuki moaned out, coming back to consciousness for the second time that day. Honestly he was just pissed off at this point, he hadn’t even jinxed them this time!

“Hey, Bakubro.” Kirishima said, and the awful sounds of rocks shifting and falling to the ground echoed too loudly in his ears. “Was a little worried I put you down too hard.”

“Fucking threw me.” Katsuki groaned, opening his eyes to darkness. His heart beat a little quicker. “Where’s dunce face? ‘S dark.”

“I’m not sure.” Kirishima sighed. “I knew I could only protect you with my quirk, so I told them to run. They did. Hopefully they outran the collapse.”

Katsuki did hope they outran the collapse. He was no doubt someone was coming after them, but it was probably the other idiots in their class. Aizawa hadn’t even set foot in the mall when it collapsed. And knowing his idiots, it would take them two days to find a sponge in a sink. With Kaminari and Uraraka trapped alongside them, it would be even harder to find them.

God, he just wanted to go to bed.

“Bakugou, wake up, hey don’t sleep.” Kirishima suddenly said, shaking him a little.

Katsuki let out a noise that meant that hurt and if Kirishima did it again, he’d regret it.

“Sorry, bro, but you can’t sleep.” Kirishima said. “I don’t know what’s going on with your head right now, but I don’t think it’s safe for you to sleep.”

Shit. He hadn’t been trying to fall asleep, he must have been passing out. That was a problem.

“What… what does this shit look like?”

“What shit?”

Katsuki’s good arm grabbed Kirishima’s face awkwardly, and rolled it around, trying to gesture to the space around them. He stopped when he heard the debris.

“Oh.” If rolling his eyes wasn’t painful, he would’ve. He settled for huffing. “I don’t know. I can’t see anything either. I can feel the debris on my back, but it keeps shifting around when I breathe. But don’t worry, I can keep this up for a while, you’re safe, bro, I got you.”

Right, Kaminari had been their only light source. He hadn’t really been worried about his safety, he’d wanted to be able to crawl out of here. But that wasn’t happening apparently. They were just stuck here until someone found them.

“Hey, Bakugou?”

“Mm.”

“Do you ever think about death?”

“Hah?!” Kirishima’s voice was way too blasé for this subject. “The fuck kinda question is that?”

“I’m trying to keep you awake and that was the first thing I came up with!” Katsuki heard Kirishima’s blush in his explanation. If he wasn’t hardened, he’d have gotten a smack for that. Katsuki just kept telling himself that rolling his eyes would hurt, rolling his eyes would hurt, don’t do that.

“Think of something better!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

There was a beat of silence. Katsuki groaned. God his friends were stupid.

“Are you and Midoriya exes or something?”

And he thought the death one was bad. “Excuse the fuck me? Has he been saying that? I’m going to fucking murder him!”

“No, no he hasn’t!” Kirishima said, saving Deku’s life, for now. “He’s never said that, or implied that or anything. We all just… we just wonder why you hate him so much. Like, I know you hate pretty much everybody, but your hatred for him is intense, dude. So we all kinda have a sort of bet going on, trying to figure out why. Couple of people think it was because you two dated and then had a bad break-up, especially since he knows so much about you.”

Katsuki blinked. That was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard, and he’d known Deku for over ten years. Holy fuck.

“Shut down this ‘bet’, shitty hair, you all can stop fucking guessing.” Katsuki snarled.

“Oh yeah?” Kirishima perked up. “You gonna tell me?”

“No.” Somehow Kirishima deflated without moving. “First off, you assholes can stay the fuck out of my business, it makes no fucking difference to you why I hate him.”

“Yeah but we like Midoriya.” Kirishima sighed. “And we like you. We thought maybe if we could figure out why you hate him, we could help fix it.”

Katsuki supposed it was well-intentioned, but the idea still made his skin crawl. His relationship with Deku was his own, and… he didn’t want to think about it. His head already hurt too much.

“You can’t fix it, shitty hair.” Katsuki sighed. “None of you can. It’s only between us. Personal. Though if you could get him to stop crying every other second, that might help.”

Kirishima laughed breathlessly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

It was quiet for a minute.

“Does it… bother you, that I don’t like him?” Katsuki didn’t like how unsure his voice was, and he fully blamed it on the nondescript head wound.

“Bother, no, but it kinda makes me sad.” Kirishima said, shrugging and then freezing as more debris shifted. “I mean, you’re my best bro, and Midoriya’s a good bro, and it kinda sucks that we can’t like hang out together or do fun stuff. But if you don’t like him, I’m not going to force you to do stuff with him. You’re allowed to not like people. We’ll all just hang out separately.”

Katsuki couldn’t name the emotion in his chest, and he refused to try.

“You know, you could do better.” Katsuki said. “You’re one of the only idiots in our class who’s somewhat tolerable.”

“Aww, I love you too, Bakubro.” Kirishima chirped, and Katsuki’s eyes widened. “It’s not like that though, we’re just friends.”

“I didn’t fucking say that.”

“Maybe not in those words.” Kirishima said. “But I know you.”

“Not well enough apparently.” Katsuki muttered. “I didn’t fucking say that. I don’t say that shit to anyone, let alone you.”

“Aww, Bakubro!” Kirishima whined, and Katsuki knew he was wearing the stupid smile he was always wearing when he teased Katsuki. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“That was the intent, yes.”

Kirishima laughed, and the echo died in the walls of fallen debris around them.

“How’s your quirk?”

“I’ll be alright, Bakugou.” Kirishima said, and Katsuki could hear the strain Kirishima was trying to hide from him. “I’ve got you. I can keep this up a while longer.”

Katsuki didn’t doubt that, Kirishima had already risked his life for Katsuki once, it didn’t surprise him that he’d do it again and again. He was a good friend.

Silence followed for a moment.

“Bakugou, you still alive?” Kirishima asked.

“Mhm.” Bakugou murmured. “If I die, I’ll let you know.”

Kirishima huffed a strained laugh. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

The tiniest shines of light then filtered through the cracks of the debris. A spark of hope ignited in both of them. A muffled voice echoed through.

“Kaminari? Uraraka?” Kirishima shouted, and Bakugou whimpered. Damn, that hurt. He understood its necessity, but goddamn that hurt.

The voices got stronger, and so did the light. The debris was being shifted around, pink cheeks obviously using her quirk to move the debris safely. Thank fuck.

“Kirishima?” Kaminari’s voice rang through, and Bakugou just groaned quietly. That seemed to be answer enough, as he heard a, “I can hear them!”

Debris began to move quicker, and the light kept getting stronger, a pocket shining through. Katsuki didn’t have to see the head popping through to know that Kaminari was able to see them now.

“How buried am I?” Kirishima asked. “Can you see it?”

“Yeah I can see it, sheesh man, you’re under a lot of rock.” Kaminari said. “But Uraraka should be able to get you out, bro. Just give us a little time.”

“Thanks, bro.”

Without a watch but with a head wound, Bakugou couldn’t tell how it took them to move the debris, and the sounds sort of amalgamated into a noisy blur that he couldn’t quite distinguish. Eventually, he felt the chest he constantly brushed as he breathed disappear, and he could hear Kirishima shift around without the debris falling off of him. A hand came to his shoulder, but thankfully didn’t shake him. 

“You still alive, bro?” Kirishima whispered.

“I haven’t told you I’m dead yet so what do you think?”

Kirishima laughed quietly. “Come on, Kaminari unburied me. We can stand up now.”

Ah shit. This was going to be hard, but Bakugou couldn’t back down now. He hoped that what sort of rest he’d gotten laying down would allow him to be able to stand again.

Okay. He could do this. He’d stand if it killed him.

His left was already trembling as he tried to push himself up, his hip screaming at him to stop moving as he moved his body. Instead of even trying to lose his left leg, he put all his weight on his right, but using his left arm and right leg to stand wasn’t working, and he could feel Kirishima’s hands begin to touch his shoulders. Dammit, he didn’t need fucking help!

Putting any weight on his left leg suddenly became the stupidest decision he’d ever made, as it hadn’t even been three seconds before he was crying out in pain and falling back to the ground.

Several versions of his name rang out in almost perfect unison, hands touching all over, and he just groaned. Today had to be one of the shittiest days of his life. At this point, he’d rather just pass out so he didn’t have to deal with this anymore.

“Bakugou, are you alright?” Kirishima’s voice finally made a sentence instead of just an exclamation.

“Stop fucking touching me and I might be.” Katsuki hissed, and four of the hands retracted themselves. The other two belonged to Kirishima, but he couldn’t see where his friend was to smack him with his good arm.

“Please don’t hate me for this, Bakubro, but you’re too hurt.” Kirishima said, and one hand stayed under his shoulder and the other moved to his knees.

Shit, wait, no, he wasn’t ready-- Kirishima lifted him into the air, and his hip screamed through his voice. The sound he made didn’t even sound like him. The versions of his name were shouted at him again, pounding his head so hard he could barely process their words.

“Hip.” Katsuki panted, finally taking control back of his voice from his hip.

“Dude, what do you mean?” Kirishima asked. “What’s going on?”

“Left hip.” Katsuki gasped. “Been broken since I woke up.”

“Dude!” Kirishima shouted and Katsuki grimaced. “I-- sorry, bro, but why didn’t you say anything? We’ve been walking with you this whole time!”

“Could handle it.” Katsuki groaned.

“Bullshit, Bakugou.” Kirishima snapped, and he sounded angrier than Katsuki had ever heard before. “Look, dude, walking with a head wound and broken arm is one thing. Walking on a broken hip is another. Kaminari, Uraraka, you two keep going. I’m gonna stay here with Bakugou.”

“I said I can handle it.” Katsuki said, trying to push out of Kirishima’s arms. Kirishima just held him tighter.

“I don’t care what you say, Bakugou.” Kirishima snarled. He was beginning to sound like Katsuki.

“Kirishima, are you sure?” Uraraka asked. “If we go, you’ll be completely in the dark.”

“I’ll be fine.” Kirishima said. Bastard even had the audacity to ignore Katsuki’s “I’m already fine.” and continue on like he hadn’t said anything. “Seriously guys. You go ahead. I can protect him with my quirk if anything else happens. We need help, now, and you two are our best chance at getting it. We won’t go anywhere, so you’ll know where you left us. It’ll be okay.”

Katsuki could hear the worried looks his friends exchanged, but they said their goodbyes and footsteps started to fade.

Kirishima knelt to the ground, and placed him down flat on the ground. He heard a bit of shifting before Kirishima pulled Katsuki’s head into his lap. It was somewhat comfortable, the darkness keeping Kirishima from seeing Katsuki’s unhappy blush. A soft hand came to his hair, brushing softly through his spikes, and that helped his headache better than the lack of light.

“You’re such a liar sometimes, Katsuki.”

Kirishima’s voice was soft, but the emotion in it was just as strong. Caught off guard by the sudden use of his given name, Katsuki barely managed a confused, “No I’m not.”

“Yes the fuck you are.” Kirishima snapped. “Saying you can handle walking on a broken hip when you can’t see and you can’t even catch yourself if you fall because of your arm. No one can do that, not even you. I can’t believe you sometimes, hiding that from us. From me. Seriously, Katsuki, how could you be so stupid?”

“I wasn’t being stupid!” Katsuki growled.

“Walking on a broken hip is stupid.” Kirishima insisted. “You know better! If it were me, you wouldn’t let me walk on it. You would’ve made Uraraka use her quirk on me so I didn’t put weight on it. What’s wrong with you, Katsuki? Why the hell did you do that?”

Even though they were arguing, the soft hand in his hair didn’t change its rhythm.

The pout on Katsuki’s face also matched the blush spreading to his ears. He wasn’t sure about how he felt about Kirishima using his given name, and he didn’t think he could figure it out with the headache that was trying to resist the comfort from Kirishima’s fingers.

“All Might worked for years with a hole in his side.” Katsuki pouted. “I could make it for one fucking day. It’s just pain.”

“Yeah, but you’re not All Might.” Kirishima said, and Katsuki bristled. “You’re not! You’re gonna be the number one one day, I’m sure of it, but you’re not there yet. And walking on a broken hip is a good way to make sure you never get there. What if you damaged your hip permanently?”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Katsuki grumbled. “I know when to stop before it gets that bad.”

“No, you don’t.” Kirishima refuted. “If you knew when to stop, you would’ve told me about your broken hip right when you woke up. Come on, man, I’m supposed to be your best friend. Why didn’t you at least tell me?”

“Not like I can keep a secret here.” Katsuki muttered. “If I’d said anything, then those two extras would’ve overheard, and pink cheeks would’ve used her stupid quirk on me again.”

“She was trying to help you.” Kirishima sighed.

“I don’t need her fucking help.” Katsuki seethed. Clenching his jaw made stars appear over his eyes, so he forced himself to ungrit his teeth. “I don’t want her fucking touching me. I don’t want anyone fucking touching me.”

“I’m touching you.”

Katsuki pouted again. “It’s different.”

“Because I’m ‘tolerable’?” Kirishima asked, with just the hint of a smirk. Bastard.

“Somewhat tolerable.” Katsuki huffed. “Just because you’re not literally the worst doesn’t mean you’re actually tolerable.”

“Uh-huh.” Kirishima said, not believing him at all. Damn bastard. “I don’t know what it is that makes you like this, but come on, Katsuki. Keeping us out when it comes to shit like this is only gonna turn around and bite you in the ass. I mean, look at us now. You can’t move, you still can’t even see even if it wasn’t dark, and now I have to stay here with you so you don’t die or get crushed or something.”

“You don’t need to rub it in.” Katsuki snapped.

“I’m not.” Kirishima sighed. “You’re my best friend, Katsuki. I don’t want to see you hurt, and just be stuck watching as you purposefully make yourself worse to prove some sort of point. I don’t even know who you’re proving it to, none of us care that you can’t walk on a broken hip.”

“I care.” Katsuki said. “I’m not like those extras who whine and cry every time they get a tiny scratch. They’ll never even make it to the top twenty with that attitude.”

“And you think you’ll make it to the top twenty if you constantly ignore your body?” Kirishima snapped back. “You constantly yell at Midoriya because he’s always breaking his bones all the time, and yet you do something like this!”

“It’s different!” Katsuki repeated.

“Ugh, no it’s not!” Kirishima groused. “What are you trying to prove, Katsuki? That you have absolutely no regard for your own well-being?”

“That I’m strong enough on my own.” Katsuki hissed.

The hand that had been softly running through his hair disappeared, and he refused to miss it. It came to his cheek, a softer touch than Katsuki would’ve suspected for how strong Kirishima was, and how mad at him he was.

“What if someone wants to be with you?” Kirishima asked softly, his thumb brushing up and down his cheek. “What if someone wants to stand by your side, to be there as you shoot to the top, wants to help you get there by calling you out on your bullshit, wants to hold you when you have nightmares, wants to have your back, wants to help prop you up when you can’t see or stand?”

Katsuki blinked.

“What was that middle one?”

“Wants to help you get there by calling you out on your bullshit.” Kirishima said. That hadn’t been the middle one he’d been talking about, but he let it go. Maybe he’d just misheard. “And that? That was bullshit.”

Katsuki huffed. “Okay maybe… maybe it wasn’t my smartest decision.”

“No shit, sherlock.” Kirishima muttered. Katsuki ignored that.

“I didn’t figure it would be such a big deal. It’s just pain. Pain is a call I don’t have to answer. I’m not weak, pain isn’t that big of a deal.”

“Your pain is a big deal to me.” Kirishima said. “Just because you acknowledge you’re in pain doesn’t mean that you’re weak.”

“The pros get hurt all the time in the field.” Katsuki retorted. “If they can rise above and keep moving when they’re hurt, then I can too.”

“You know, when we went on the Shie Hassaikai raid,” Kirishima said slowly, obviously thinking about his every word, “I passed out after that fight with Rappa.”

“You told me about that.” Katsuki said, unsure of where this was going.

“Yeah I did.” Kirishima said. “That fight took everything out of me. I had more cuts and bruises than I could physically count. And you know what Fat Gum did?”

A beat.

“He took me out of the fight.” Kirishima answered himself. “He found a place where we could be as safe as possible, and he got me medical help. I didn’t rejoin the fight after that. Fat Gum didn’t either. He stayed with me, kept me safe.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything to that.

“So why is it that Fast Gum, the actual pro, takes pain into consideration when making decisions, making sure that the people he was with were protected, but you, the teenager, don’t?”

“You were unconscious, I wasn’t.” Katsuki deflected. “I keep telling you, it’s different.”

“I wasn’t unconscious the entire time.” Kirishima shot back. “I woke up before Overhaul destroyed the street. And Fat Gum still stayed with me. Helped me get to the ambulances, even went with me to the hospital. He didn’t go back into the fight, he just stayed with me until I was taken care of. And he’s a genuine pro.”

Katsuki refused to answer his unspoken question.

“I think you’re running out of reasons why it’s different, Katsuki.” Kirishima said.

“Fuck you.” Katsuki snarled. “And why the fuck are you all of a sudden using my given name? I didn’t say you could do that.”

“You’re deflecting again.” Kirishima called out. “Give me a reason, dammit. A real reason. Why is it so different?”

“Because it’s me!” Katsuki shouted back. “I have to do this.”

“Dammit, why?”

“Because I have to be good enough!” Katsuki shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.

A choked noise of pain followed, and Katsuki lost track of reality as his world became nothing but unending agony, the pain so overwhelming that he couldn’t even be sure that he was breathing. It felt like it went on for three separate lifetimes, drowning him in a torment so excruciating he didn’t think he could ever describe it in words.

Shaky breaths were the first thing he became aware of when the pain finally began to subside. The fingers on his cheek were in his hair again, lightly dragging their nails across his scalp, and he clung to that feeling as his only salvation as he managed to get through the final assaults of the pain.

“Katsuki?” Kirishima’s voice was so quiet that Katsuki barely heard it.

Katsuki made the quietest noise he’d ever made in his life in response. He only just now realized he was crying, tears running rivers down his cheeks.

“You’re good enough, Katsuki.” Kirishima whispered. “You don’t have to kill yourself like this to prove you’re good enough. You’re good enough on your own, Katsuki.”

Katsuki couldn’t even think of a response, the pain had completely cut his voice off.

“It’s gonna be okay, Katsuki.” Kirishima kept going when he didn’t say anything. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re enough, you’re good enough. You’ll be okay. It’s alright. Yound soonna breathing, it’s okay, you’re gon it’s okay. Yound soon it’s alright. You’reat.”

The hell? Katsuki was completely losing track of what Kirishima was saying. The fifty icepicks in his brain were beating a drum beat that went two beats faster than his heart. When his mind tried to understand what Kirishima said, he just got indecipherable static in return. Darkness was slowly beginning to encroach around his mind, easing the pain by just trapping him in shadow.

“Omatsuki! Matsuki?” Katsuki couldn’t even feel Kirishima shaking him now, his mind so wrapped up in shadow. “Comake uke Kaki! Wake mase uple. Come Kaki!”

Kirishima was shaking him harder now, his voice insistent and desperate, but Katsuki couldn’t feel a bit of it. The shadow that stole him from consciousness to ease the pain had already put him completely under, the darkness of unconsciousness swallowing him whole.

Something was different. He couldn’t tell exactly what, but something was different.

Voices surrounded him, voices that hadn’t been the people he’d been stuck with. The only one out of the cacophony that he could properly pick out was Kirishima. Oh! That’s what was different! He wasn’t in Kirishima’s lap anymore, with no fingers running through his hair. That had felt really good, he was a little sad that Kirishima had stopped. It had really helped with the pain. That… he was no longer in. His hip was still throbbing, his arm still ached, but his head was kinda floaty, and that helped drown out everything else. What was going on? Katsuki tried to ask, but all that came out was a soft groan.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima must have heard him. “Hey, Bakugou, you back with us?”

He made a small, affirmative noise.

“There you are.” Kirishima chuckled breathlessly. “I was getting worried you’d sleep through the whole rescue.”

“Dum’ass.” Katsuki mumbled.

Katsuki could hear Kirishima’s relieved smile. The soft hand that was in his hair came to his cheek again. Unconsciously, he leaned into it.

“You really scared me, Katsuki.” Kirishima’s voice dropped, shaky and scared. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Hah?” Katsuki replied, and he tried to get his head on straight, get away from whatever was making him feel all floaty.

“Shh, it’s okay, Katsuki.” Kirishima said, his thumb running up and down Katsuki’s cheek again. “You’re gonna be alright now. Everything’s okay.”

“You?”

“I’m okay too, Katsuki.” Kirishima murmured, but he didn’t quite sound it. “I asked Recovery Girl, she said it was okay for you to sleep.”

Katsuki made an uncertain noise. “Don’t, sound, okay.”

“Yeah, well, when you think someone you love just died in your arms, you don’t sound okay for a little while.”

Katsuki couldn’t think for a moment, and it had nothing to do with his head being floaty. Loved? Kirishima loved him? Sure, they were best friends, Kirishima was the closest friend he’d ever had, but that didn’t mean anything. Katsuki had walked away from his friends from middle school without even thinking, he’d realized he didn’t care whether they were around him or not. They weren’t good for him, encouraging him to do shit he shouldn’t, and they were just lackeys who followed him because he was the biggest fish in their little pond. He’d figured that… he’d figured that all friends were like that. That that was why Kirishima had forced his way into Katsuki’s life, that that was why all of Kirishima’s friends had followed suit. He’d made it clear on day one that he was one of the most powerful students in this class, even if he hadn’t done it in the best of ways. The USJ incident had been a better judge of his power, and his character. He hadn’t been able to lose Kirishima after that, and as soon as Kirishima had deemed him acceptable, the rest of the Bakusquad followed suit. But he’d never thought that Kirishima had deemed him acceptable because he’d cared about Katsuki, just that Kirishima thought he could use Katsuki to get ahead, and the squad followed because he could keep them afloat academically. The invitations to movie nights, playing video games, hanging out outside of school, and now caring when he got hurt, he’d thought that was just pretenses. That they didn’t care whether he showed up or not, that if they found someone who could do what he did (who had a better attitude) they’d walk away from him without thought. Did all of the Bakusquad feel that way? When he could think properly, he had to give this a ridiculous amount of thought.

“Shh, just go to sleep, Katsuki.” Kirishima said, somehow sensing that Katsuki’s mind was going a million miles an hour. “We’ll talk later. Sleep.”

Even though it was Shinsou who could control minds, Katsuki’s mind still seemed to shut down when Kirishima told it too, only just now noticing that he was completely exhausted. The soft touch to his cheek continued, gently settling him into a comfortable sleep.

And goddammit, he was still wearing that goddamn blindfold.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Day 4, 6, 22, 29- I'm Fine (Don't Peek Behind the Curtain)

This one was a great time, I got to just play around with Bakugou's trauma for funsies hehe this one has Shinsou in it. and here's the thing about Shinsou (I'm not fully caught up, no spoilers please) I know very little about his quirk. So I took... a lot of liberties. So if it turns out that's not how Shinsou's quirk works, that's a problem for future me.

prompts- shock, made to watch, "watch out!", troubled past resurfacing- hurt Bakugou, a lovely little walk down memory lane, with memory lane being everything Bakugou's ever suffered through, emotionsTM

AO3 Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50331418

While Shinsou wasn’t particularly thrilled with being in a group with Midoriya, Todoroki, and Bakugou, it really seemed like tempting fate at this point, he was glad that he was finally starting to catch up a little bit to his new classmates. Everyone else had already gotten a ridiculous amount of real world experience and they weren’t even done with their first year, and while one day out on patrol with Aizawa wouldn’t do too much to make up for it, at least it was a start.

The class had been thrilled at the thought of going out with their teachers, patrolling the warehouse district near the docks. Aizawa had told them that this wasn’t about fighting villains, but about how to do proper patrols. The teachers were hoping nobody ran into any villains, but, knowing 1A, they could fight if they did since they all had their probationary licenses. Shinsou had been a special case, since he’d transferred into the class after the test was given. Aizawa had vouched for him, to give him a temporary and restricted license until he could take the test, convincing the committee that since class 1A was constantly running into villains, that he needed to be able to fight alongside his classmates in an emergency. The license he had wasn’t like everyone else’s, but it was enough to let him get the real world experience he’d been looking for. Though, since he had to be in Aizawa’s presence the entire time he was out in the field, that also meant he’d gotten assigned to the ‘problem child’ group since Aizawa was also personally keeping an eye on them.

Bakugou had protested loudly at being stuck with Midoriya, but Aizawa had silenced him with a few whispered words. Shinsou hadn’t heard him exactly but it was something along the lines of ‘I need you to keep Midoriya and Todoroki from doing something stupid.’ Shinsou hadn’t been with the class long, but it was an open secret that Midoriya was always willing to go too far to try and save people, and that Todoroki often seemed way too easily convinced to do something illegal. And while Bakugou was often at the crux of shit that went down around 1A, it was well-known it hadn’t been his choice to be involved in any of it, ironically, making him the more sensible one. So it made sense to redirect Bakugou’s anger to something that he actively enjoyed, telling other people what to do.

“Stop walking ahead of me!” Bakugou snapped for what seemed like the twelfth time in ten minutes, which was followed by the twelfth “sorry, Kacchan,” in ten minutes, which was then followed by the twelfth “Don’t call me that!” in ten minutes.

Shinsou didn’t think he’d ever met a bigger asshole in his life.

Even though he was paying attention to everything around them, as Aizawa instructed, internally he was trying to wrap his head around why the fuck Midoriya and Kaminari called him their friend. Midoriya kept insisting that Bakugou just needed time to warm up to him, that he was softer and kinder than he seemed, but honestly, Shinsou didn’t believe him. Midoriya saw the best in literally everyone, Bakugou included, even if it wasn’t always really there. Kaminari said that Bakugou was an acquired taste, that he took some getting used to, and Shinsou thought maybe the whole class was just noseblind to Bakugou’s dickishness, for lack of a better term. Bakugou had only ever been insulting, arrogant, cocky, and a temperamental hothead around Shinsou, and he did not understand what his friends saw in the blonde.

“Will you just fucking shut up?” Shinsou groaned, running a hand down his face.

“Shut up.” Bakugou responded bluntly, his voice lower than expected. He suddenly stopped in the alleyway they were in, and Shinsou rolled his eyes. Midoriya and Todoroki stopped as well, no doubt to stop him from blowing Shinsou up for daring to tell him to be quiet.

“No seriously, shut up.” Shinsou shot back. “Not everything is about you all the fucking time. You’re not that special, dude.”

“I said shut up.” Bakugou hissed, his voice even lower. That unsettled Shinsou for some reason, and he stopped as well.

“Sensei?” Bakugou asked quietly, pointing at someone Shinsou could barely see. “They supposed to be here?”

Aizawa came to Bakugou, to look at what he was pointing at. Shinsou could just barely make out three people standing around, talking with each other. It looked like a few people talking on their breaks, and Shinsou was ready to ignore it and yell at Bakugou for being overdramatic when the men shook hands, and one pulled a thick wad of bills out of his pocket.

“There’s supposed to be a ship coming in about now.” Midoriya said, looking at the manifest schedule they’d been given earlier.

“I fucking know that Deku,” what, had he memorized the schedule? He’d barely even looked at it! “But something’s off. I can sense it.”

The wad of bills was exchanged for a briefcase, and when it was opened, the man who paid pulled out a white brick. That looked like…

“Drug runners.” Aizawa said with a hard look. “I was hoping they wouldn’t be here, but it seems they’re trying to get around the patrol schedule.”

Shinsou realized he was now a full-fledged member of 1A now, it barely being three weeks since he’d transferred in before running into villains. This was his first outing with his license, and now he was going to have to use it. That must have been some kind of record.

“You know them, Ai- I mean Eraserhead?” Midoriya asked.

“Not them specifically, but I’ve caught my fair share of drug smugglers here.” Aizawa said. “Ports are a big target for smugglers, hiding contraband on ships is easier than you think.”

Aizawa radioed the other teachers, relaying their position and that they might need backup. They couldn’t see any other villains beyond the three in front of them, but they all knew that didn’t mean those were the only ones.

“Dynamight, don’t ignite the drugs unless absolutely necessary.” Aizawa said, and to Shinsou’s mild surprise, Bakugou just nodded. “Try to keep that briefcase as undamaged as possible, we need it for evidence.”

The men hadn’t seemed to notice them yet, just talking and laughing as if one of them wasn’t holding an entire briefcase of what Shinsou thought was cocaine. They crept along the walls of the warehouses surrounding them, Bakugou walking quieter than Shinsou thought possible for the blonde. Red light began to shine from Midoriya, and Shinsou felt the temperature drop a few degrees.

“Easy.” Aizawa said, waving his hand a little. “Mindfreak, get their attention. Get as many of them under your control as you can, get them to surrender. Only then do we go in, and I’m on point. Just arresting them is the goal, don’t fight unless you have to.”

Everyone nodded.

Aizawa nodded at him, and Shinsou took a deep breath. Getting more than one person under his control was hard, and keeping them under control was even harder, but he just had to keep them under control until they were arrested. He could do this.

Fiddling with his artificial vocal cords for a moment, disguising his voice into something older, something more adult, he called out, “Excuse me? Can you help me?”

All three men turned to him, shouting at him in surprise, and Shinsou pounced. He had to attack each one individually, blanketing their minds with his quirk. The first one fell easily, and the second one wasn’t far behind, but the third one, the one holding the briefcase, clearly had psychic defenses. There wasn’t a way for him to enter without being crushed, his mind sharp, prepared for intruders.

Splitting himself in two was already making his head throb, his connection with their minds weak and flaky, hanging on by a thread and getting weaker as he tried to get briefcase guy.

Dammit, he couldn’t hold this, he was losing his grip on the other two. His legs wobbled, his heart stuttered, but he shouted out a, “surrender!”

The two he had control over immediately got down on their knees, putting their hands behind their head. He heard Aizawa say, “go!” but he couldn’t move from his spot. His vision went a little blurry, but he saw Aizawa and Bakugou go after briefcase guy, who had some sort of emitter quirk, which surprised Shinsou, since he thought he would’ve had a mental type quirk due to his shields.

Midoriya shouted, “Go help them, I got this!” and Todoroki joined the fight after handing Midoriya his cuffs. Midoriya was quick and precise, and both of them were arrested without much issue. Shinsou slumped against the wall, panting a little as he retracted his mind. The two woke up, and shouted, but Midoriya was already taking them away, getting them out of the line of fire. Shinsou could barely hear a “please stay here so you don’t get hurt” over the sounds of the battle, and he couldn’t believe just how true that rumor was.

He turned back to the battle, and he realized briefcase guy was more than a simple drug smuggler. The bastard fought as if he’d been trained, catching Aizawa’s capture weapon in his hands and using it against him, throwing him towards the water. Todoroki shot out a block of ice, catching their teacher before he fell into the ocean.

Okay. He could end this. He could do this.

“Over here you bastard!” Shinsou shouted, getting the briefcase guy’s attention once more.

Shinsou attacked with everything he had, trying to blanket the guy’s mind as he had the others. Going up against one was way easier, but damn, this guy had thorough mental shields. People who were psinull, without any psychic training whatsoever, getting in their mind was like walking through a house without walls. But this guy, he didn’t just have walls, he had fortresses, reinforced with training and expertise. Shinsou didn’t give up, though, he just had to find this guy’s weak point.

“Watch out!”

So focused on the guy’s mind, Shinsou hadn’t seen the emitter blast headed straight for him, Midoriya’s voice his only warning.

Caught by surprise, Shinsou didn’t have time to get his body to jump out of the way. He felt something slam into him, but it wasn’t a blast of energy. It was a person, propelled by an explosion he felt at the edge of his body. Bakugou smashed into him at full speed, his momentum forcing Shinsou out of the way. Shinsou crashed to the ground, but he wasn’t flattened by two hundred pounds of muscle and temper.

Bakugou had tried to blast them both out of the way, but he hadn’t had the time to get both of them out of the way, Bakugou getting hit by the edge of the blast. He was thrown down the alleyway, landing in a heap.

“Bakugou!” Shinsou shouted, scrambling to his feet and running to his classmate. He could hear Todoroki’s ice move and then the emitter blasts went silent, so Todoroki must’ve caught the guy. Shinsou barely noticed as he ran to Bakugou’s side. “Bakugou, are you alright?”

The blonde was trembling a little, the excess energy radiating from his hands, his ribs, his face, but then dissolving into the air. His hands hovered over Bakugou, knowing Bakugou didn’t like to be touched, but wanting to help anyway. Bakugou groaned, and then began to push himself up on his hands. “I’m fi--” Bakugou started, but his voice cut off suddenly. Bakugou turned to him, with a confused frown on his face, surprise in his eyes, and Shinsou gasped.

Little characters were carving themselves into Bakugou’s cheeks, and bruises were sprouting across Bakugou’s neck.

The energy began to diminish from his face, and Shinsou realized the energy dispersions must be targets of the quirk. Bakugou fell back on his ass, still wearing that confused look, and Shinsou saw blood starting to stain the orange parts of Bakugou’s uniform. Shinsou got Bakugou’s gloves off, and little characters were writing themselves in Bakugou’s blood on his hands too.

Shinsou wrapped Bakugou’s arm around his shoulder and hauled them both to their feet. They hadn’t even been able to make it two steps before Shinsou heard a sickening crack!’ and Bakugou shouted, his right leg suddenly unable to hold weight. Shinsou could barely look at how badly it was broken before his stomach lurched at the sight. They went from walking together to Shinsou all but dragging Bakugou forward, and Shinsou could feel Bakugou’s arm start to tremble as they went. Bruises spread across his shoulders, down his arms, and Shinsou ran as fast as he could carrying an entire person.

“Sensei!” Shinsou shouted, getting everyone’s attention from briefcase guy to them.

Todoroki immediately rushed forward to grab Bakugou’s other arm, and together they dragged him to Aizawa. His mentor was a seasoned professional, able to keep calm when everyone else was panicking, but seeing a look of fear, even just hidden in his eyes, scared the fuck out of him.

Instead of talking to them, he turned back to the man encased in Todoroki’s ice. “What the hell is your quirk?”

Briefcase guy just sneered. ��Isn’t that the brat from the news? The villain one or something? I wouldn’t have thought he’d be so affected from watching TV.”

“If you don’t answer my question, I’m going to throw you into the water and tell the cops you jumped.” Aizawa said harshly. Shinsou knew Aizawa would never do so, not just because it was illegal but because Aizawa wasn’t a murderer, but he was obviously trying to convince the man he was. He must be scared if he went straight to threats.

“Alright, alright!” Briefcase guy panicked. “My quirk makes internal pain external. Guilt, fear, regret, that kind of thing.”

“Release him now!”

“I-I can’t! It lasts an hour, there’s nothing I can do once it’s started!”

Shinsou’s blood ran cold. Bakugou would have to go through an hour of this? He could barely stand as it was! Instinctively, both he and Todoroki turned to look at Bakugou, and the characters inscribing themselves on Bakugou’s face were beginning to form words.

“Sensei, I did as you said-- Kacchan!” Midoriya then joined them, Shinsou wasn’t sure where he’d been but right now it didn’t matter.

As soon as Midoriya came into their sight, a burst of blood spewed from Bakugou’s mouth.

“Deku, go!” Aizawa said, recognizing something Shinsou didn’t. Somehow Bakugou getting worse around Midoriya didn’t make sense to him, but it made sense to his mentor. “He can’t be around you right now. Todoroki, you go with him. Find another teacher, call an ambulance.”

Aizawa switched spots with Todoroki, taking Bakugou’s arm. Another choked gasp of blood started running down Bakugou’s chin. Todoroki and Midoriya looked like they didn’t want to go, wanting to stay by their friend’s side, but after a brief moment, they both took off.

“This way. I want you with me.” Aizawa said, just reaching down to Bakugou’s knees to carry him away from the ice, heading to a spot Aizawa must have deemed acceptable.

“Why me?” Shinsou asked. “Why not send me away too?”

“Because I think your quirk can help.” Aizawa stated, kneeling down and setting Bakugou down. “And you’re the only one here who doesn’t know him. You don’t have history with him, you won’t make him worse.”

Shinsou nodded and his mind a tornado of thought. How could he help Bakugou right now?

“Okay, Bakugou, I need you to answer me.” Shinsou said, looking directly at Bakugou’s face. To his horror, the words were becoming legible through the blood. “Talk to me, say something.”

Bakugou opened his mouth again, his chin still dripping blood, but he managed a quiet, “yeah?”

With the opening, Shinsou went to Bakugou’s mind, and he was surprised to feel a jaggedness he hadn’t felt before. It almost reminded him of when he’d entered Midoriya’s mind at the Sports’ Festival. Midoriya hadn’t felt like anyone he’d ever put under his control, and Bakugou’s mind even sharper than that. He got a flash of Bakugou’s memories, the quirk obviously bringing them to the forefront of Bakugou’s mind, and he could see Aizawa’s disapproving stare, and he could feel an immense amount of guilt, a feeling of not hitting a standard someone had set for you.

Shinsou didn’t even have time to figure out what that meant when he felt Bakugou’s mind kick him out, and he fell backwards from the force.

“Sensei, you gotta leave.” Shinsou said, scrambling back to his feet.

Aizawa turned to him, a frown deeply inscribed into his face.

“There’s something there with you too.” Shinsou said. “I think he feels like he disappointed you or something, but I can’t be sure, it might be the quirk.”

Actually Shinsou was very sure, but he knew Bakugou wouldn’t want him broadcasting his inner feelings to the world. Aizawa pursed his lips, but sighed, and nodded. “Do what you can, as soon as medical gets here, I’ll send them over to you.”

Shinsou nodded, and with a sinking heart, he watched as their teacher headed away from them too. Turning back to Bakugou, he found crimson eyes glaring at him, but he could see the pain he was trying to hide. The bruises started to spread down from Bakugou’s neck to his collarbone.

“Look, I’ll tell them it was just the quirk la… ter.” Shinsou said before his mouth went dry.

Terror struck him again as more characters began etching themselves into his neck. Shinsou opened his mouth to try again, but the words on Bakugou’s face were finished. His heart stuttered for a moment as he read ‘pathetic’ on his left and ‘weak’ on his right. Internal pain external. Bakugou must have had these thoughts on his own, but now he couldn’t hide them, as they were literally carving themselves into his body. Shinsou looked to his hands, and found the words ‘cruel’ and ‘villain’ finishing their last strokes.

Bakugou thought of himself as a villain? That… that was impossible. Bakugou was always so confident in himself, he was constantly yelling at everyone that he was going to be the best hero in Japan, better than All Might himself. No, no, this had to be the quirk. No one with Bakugou’s superiority complex and ego thought of themselves like that. Briefcase guy’s psychic shields were making more sense now, putting thoughts into other people’s heads or amplifying ones that were already there required psychic talent, even if it was done by emitting energy.

Shinsou shook his head clear of those awful thoughts, and he tried again. “Bakugou, you can’t kick me out like that. I know having someone else in your head probably feels terrifying right now, but I think I can help you. I should at least be able to knock you out so you don’t have to suffer through this. Come on, Bakugou, answer me.”

The glare that was badly disguising the fear in Bakugou’s eyes intensified, but after a moment, he got a “fuck you” with more syllables than letters due to Bakugou’s stutters and gasps, and Shinsou slipped back into Bakugou’s mind. The jaggedness still took him by surprise, but he forced himself through it, trying to blanket Bakugou’s mind with his control. Bakugou’s mind kept lashing out at him, fear at the forefront of the assault, but Shinsou was better prepared this time. Bakugou was like Midoriya, he could fight Shinsou off, but Shinsou had gotten better at controlling others with just his will. He would help Bakugou dammit.

The second Bakugou’s entire mind was covered, weakly, thinly, but covered, it was a simple “sleep” and Bakugou’s eyes closed, his mind going dark as Shinsou withdrew himself. Shinsou sighed, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. But not even a full minute went by before he heard another nauseating ‘crack’ and Bakugou’s right arm snapped to the side, and Bakugou woke back up with a scream. The pain must have been so intense it woke him up. Which meant that Shinsou’s quirk knocking him out wouldn’t work, as he was only able to convince a mind to shut down for sleep, not be completely unconscious. Honestly at this point, Shinsou didn’t even know if that would even work. Dammit. Dammit!

Okay, think Shinsou, Bakugou needs you. He’s in excruciating agony and can’t be put to sleep. How else can he help? Think, dammit, think!

He couldn’t think. The now finished word on Bakugou’s neck, thankfully avoiding his aorta, stared right into Shinsou’s soul.

Monster.

Shinsou couldn’t do anything but stare in disbelief for a moment. Not even twenty minutes ago, Shinsou had been shouting at him, thinking he was nothing more than a nuisance, an asshole who he happened to unfortunately get stuck with. Bakugou was just an egotistical jerk, a self-important bastard who thought himself better than everyone. But now, the pain and fear Shinsou couldn’t deny was staring him right in the face. Bakugou actually thought of himself as a monster. Tears were streaming down his face before he even realized he was crying.

“Bakugou…” Shinsou breathed, heartbroken at the sight.

His only response was a choked, gurgling noise, but it was a response. Shinsou slipped back into Bakugou’s mind, finally starting to understand the jaggedness. Midoriya had been through a lot, he hadn’t told Shinsou everything, but he could still tell that Midoriya was haunted by it. It was obvious that something had happened since Midoriya was unusually attached to Bakugou, who had been nothing but a jerk to him, and while everyone in class speculated (and Todoroki created wild conspiracy theories) no one actually knew what had happened. But something had, something that scarred their minds into being jagged and reactive.

This time, Shinsou didn’t try to blanket Bakugou’s mind, instead trying to focus on helping Bakugou through the memories he was being attacked with, his (only) idea that if he could help soothe the memories, the injuries wouldn’t be as powerful. His internal pain was being reflected externally, and if he could help soothe the internal pain, hopefully the external pain wouldn’t be so strong. Shinsou had no idea what to expect, but he braced himself as best as he could.

Certain memories were connected to the words that were still bleeding down Bakugou’s face,  and Shinsou came to the first one, and the feeling of pathetic was so strong that Shinsou nearly lost his grip on it. He could see flashes of the memory, a moving sludge encasing his whole body, going down his throat, and struggling to breathe. The force of the memory was so strong, Shinsou could feel his own throat closing.

“I couldn’t just stand there and watch you die.”

That was Midoriya’s voice. It may not have been shouted when it happened, but the voice echoed so powerfully that Shinsou was thrown from the memory for a moment. He came back with a stronger grip this time, his mind racing on how he could ease this obviously debilitating pain? ‘It wasn’t your fault’ didn’t seem right, and ‘it wasn’t personal helping people is just who he is’ was definitely the wrong answer. Dammit, quick, Shinsou, his face is still bleeding.

“You weren’t pathetic.”  Telepathy itself was a small part of Shinsou’s quirk, as controlling people’s minds needed telepathy just to get into other people’s heads, but he rarely ever used it like this. Somehow though, he’d never been more confident speaking directly into someone’s mind. “It wasn’t pathetic of you to get caught. You did everything you could. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. That doesn’t mean you were pathetic.”

Shinsou could feel the quirk trying to amplify Bakugou’s emotions, to try and kick him out again, but he pushed hard, keeping his mantra the same, that Bakugou hadn’t been pathetic to get attacked. He could feel the memory slow down, and start to slide away from the forefront of Bakugou’s mind. He couldn’t shove the memory away entirely, the word was already written into Bakugou’s face, but this was the best he could do. He could still use his own body rather than be essentially trapped in Bakugou’s mind, and looking out of his eyes showed that ‘pathetic’ had at least stopped bleeding, and was beginning to fade. His idea was working, thank fuck.

Once pathetic was taken care of as much as he could, Shinsou then moved steadily in Bakugou’s mind to ‘weak’. He knew what to brace himself for now, and weak was a much easier memory to grasp than pathetic. The flashes of weak were stronger, and Shinsou didn’t know if that meant that the quirk was trying to amplify it now that it had lost pathetic, or if Bakugou had been more affected by it, but that didn’t really change his game plan so he just took in the flashes with what strength he had.

The back of Shinsou’s neck burned, and seeing his friends’ horrified faces as Bakugou was dragged into darkness made his stomach lurch. The forest around was dark, but Midroiya and Todoroki were as bright as stars, and Bakugou had been unable to turn away, and not just because Dabi was holding him by his neck. Weakness flooded his mind, Bakugou not even all the way through the warp before he was already screaming at himself for being weak. Shinsou was now very much doubting that Bakugou actually had the superiority complex he’d thought he’d seen in Bakugou’s arrogance. Bakugou clearly used arrogance and cockiness as a cover to hide the fact that he thought of himself as pathetic and weak, that he was a hindrance to everyone around him.

The flashes were less focused this time, going from the forest to what was no doubt Kamino and then back again. Seeing Midoriya, Iida, and Kirishima in the air, and hating the hope that that brought him. Bakugou had wanted to rescue himself, but he couldn’t, and he felt lesser for it, but still he took Kirishima’s hand. And then being blasted with the horrible feeling of being trapped as Compress used his quirk and ensnared him in that tiny ball, the feeling of suffocation coming back tenfold.

Everyone knew that Bakugou getting kidnapped was the reason they were all forced into the dorm system, that he was the reason why the school was constantly in trouble and on thinner and thinner ice. He’d heard plenty of kids talking about Bakugou in the past, even before he transferred into the hero course, talking about how it was Bakugou’s fault for getting kidnapped, that he must have done something stupid to let it happen, that his cockiness wasn’t deserved as he hadn’t gotten himself free, and how everything now was his fault. Shinsou hadn’t paid much attention to it, he rarely paid attention to gossip, especially since whenever someone learned of his quirk, and his heroic intentions were put into question. (When he’d told his general studies classmates he wanted to transfer to the hero course, the rumor that he was a traitor started because his quirk could only lead to villainy, and he’d struggled to shut it down.) So he’d heard people talking about Bakugou, blaming him for the state of the school, but he hadn’t thought about it afterwards. He hadn’t even conceived the idea that Bakugou blamed himself more than any of those gossipers.

There was something else in Bakugou’s mind, he could just barely hear All Might’s voice, but this was deeper in the memory, and Shinsou could feel the same jaggedness but worse, and decided to leave that alone. Something in Bakugou’s mind was protecting that, and Shinsou didn’t want to fight him over his own memories.

“This wasn’t your fault.” This felt more right to say that, especially feeling the blame that Bakugou was putting on himself. “You aren’t weak for taking Kirishima’s hand. You were strong for letting them help you, for taking yourself out so the pros could go in without holding back. You kept yourself alive, that’s what matters. This wasn’t your fault, you didn’t choose any of this, you didn’t deserve any of that. You’re only fifteen, Bakugou, the League were grown adults, experienced villains deliberately going after someone who couldn’t have seen it coming. You weren’t weak, Bakugou, this wasn’t your fault.”

The quirk again tried to fight him, tried to shut him up, but Shinsou refused to go unheard. Bakugou would know this wasn’t his fault if it killed him. As with pathetic, weak started to slow down, growing distant in Bakugou’s mind. Shinsou didn’t know whether or not Bakugou believed him but he was at least hearing him, and that was all that mattered for now. Weak had stopped bleeding as well, and Shinsou wanted to move fast to the other, not exactly aware of how much time had passed, but trying to let whatever time left that Bakugou was still forced to deal with this be as easy as Shinsou could make it.

He did promise himself to pay more attention to what people were saying about Bakugou though, because while the emotions didn’t come from outside forces, they reinforced it in his mind, and Shinsou knew how awful that feeling felt, and he didn’t want Bakugou to feel it as well as deal with all of the other shit he was clearly going through.

As soon as weak was as far away as Shinsou could push it, he immediately moved onto the next one, ‘cruel’. But what Shinsou braced himself for wasn’t the emotion radiating off of the memory, and Shinsou nearly doubled over from the sheer magnitude of regret that he was inundated with. A quick press gave him flashes of conflicting feelings, the emotion that Bakugou had been feeling when the memory happened, and the regret he felt remembering it. He saw a classroom, and Midoriya cowering at Bakugou’s feet, a desk with scorch marks off to the side. Shinsou pulled away from that, not wanting to see his friend like that. Judging by their looks, this was middle school at the most, it didn’t look like 1A and he knew Aizawa wouldn’t have put up with that shit. Bakugou had been a bully in the past to Midoriya, and he’d loved it back then, but now all that was left was the bitter taste of regret. Bakugou actually did have a superiority complex, he could feel it in how he lorded his power over Midoriya, feeling like it was his right to do it since he felt he was better than Midoriya, though Shinsou wasn’t sure why. But somehow, he did also have an inferiority complex, he could feel it woven into the regret Bakugou had over these memories. How the fuck was that possible?

Okay, figure that out later, these memories were taunting Bakugou with his past cruelty, but Shinsou needed a way to at least distract him from it. Shinsou couldn’t stop the regret, nor would he even if he could, regrets were often what made a person change after hurting someone else, and he didn’t want Bakugou to lose what character development he had gotten since. This was Bakugou’s journey to go through, and Shinsou’s route to help him through this pain.

“You’ve grown since.” Shinsou couldn’t believe he was saying this, because he hadn’t thought Bakugou capable of said growth, but everything he’d ever known about the blonde had been completely warped and changed since this started, so he felt more confident in saying it. “People make mistakes, Bakugou. You’ve learned from them. Looking back on the past does nothing, and I’m sure Midoriya has forgiven you.”

Jaggedness smacked Shinsou in the face, and he felt his own nose start to drip blood. Okay, that was the wrong thing to say, he got it.

In checking his body for the effects, he saw that cruel had stopped bleeding, but it hadn’t begun to fade yet, so something he was saying was working. With the other memories, Shinsou could ease their strength, take it away from the quirk forcing Bakugou to think only of them, and right now that was his only goal. Bakugou’s feelings over his mistreatment of Midoriya were his own, but at the very least, Shinsou could set them back to simmer in the back of his mind until he was ready to deal with them, stopping the quirk from torturing him with them.

“Your past isn’t all of who you are, Bakugou. Sometimes redemption arcs are the best stories we can tell.”

Shinsou could tell that it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t nearly enough to actually help Bakugou through what he was feeling, but it was enough to get the memories out of the quirk. No wonder Bakugou had gotten so much worse just from looking at Midoriya.  Those feelings did dismiss his idea though that Midoriya trying to save Bakugou from that sludge had been the event that had made Bakugou so angry at Midoriya. It could still be what made Midoriya so attached, but Shinsou couldn’t be sure. He’d just ask when this was all over.

With cruel sliding back with the others, Shinsou pressed on, exhausted but desperate to keep his friend from the pain that was still overwhelming his senses. Shinsou could tell that his pushing the memories away was helping, able to sense that the pain wasn’t so intense anymore, but it was like going from one hundred percent to eighty. Shinsou couldn’t solve all of Bakugou’s pain, but he was going to keep trying to soothe what he could. Regardless of Bakugou’s assholery, in the past or in the present, he didn’t deserve this kind of pure agony.

Villain also didn’t have the same emotion that Shinsou would’ve thought, nor the same memories. He thought it might’ve been tied to Midoriya but what he found was somehow even worse. Chained to a chair with so many restraints that Shinsou couldn’t even count them all, and that was just what Bakugou could see and feel, surrounded by the same people who tormented his class, the same bastards who attacked the USJ, unleashed Nomus onto the world, who led to the fight that would bring about All Might’s downfall. Shinsou couldn’t even imagine being surrounded by so many villains, let alone be as calm as Bakugou had portrayed himself to be.

“People… rules… heroes… we’re all shackled by them.”

Shinsou didn’t have to have met Shigaraki to know that that was his voice, even before Bakugou’s mind recognized it fully. He was pitching to Bakugou, an opportunity to join the League of Villains, that he had the stuff that they were looking for… and the temperament.

There was no way to hide that Bakugou’s attitude had been the reason the League had gone after him, and that was the main reason why everyone else blamed him. ‘If he hadn’t been such an asshole on live TV, then we wouldn’t have to be the ones suffering the consequences’, was the overwhelming majority opinion he’d overheard. Even members in the press implied that in their questions, even with Aizawa defending Bakugou’s character at that press conference. He could distantly hear Aizawa’s voice on what he could just sense as a tv, and oh gods, Bakugou had seen that? While literally in the middle of a hell that couldn’t be described?

Oh gods. This is why Bakugou blamed himself. Shinsou couldn’t imagine already feeling weak for getting kidnapped, for being restrained to the point where he couldn’t move for the second time, and seeing grown ass adults tell everyone watching that he was going to join the league. And Bakugou had gone through all of that. Alone. With only his teacher to stand up for him in a room full of people who’d never met him yet seemed to hate him for no reason, surrounded by villains who thought the exact same thing. And no one had said anything nice once they’d come back to school, only adding to how shitty Bakugou felt about this happening in the first place. No one outside of 1A had felt bad for Bakugou for getting kidnapped, only blaming class 1A but mostly him for the changes in their lives. Saying the exact same things that the villains had over those horrible days.

No wonder Bakugou saw himself as a villain, as a monster. Everyone else did.

This time, Shinsou didn’t have words. He couldn’t think of anything to say, just repeating choppy utterances weren’t even real sentences, desperate for anything at all to say.

“You’re a hero, they were wrong, you’re a hero, you’re a hero, they’re wrong, they’re all wrong, you saved me, you save people, you’re a hero, you’re a hero, you’re a hero, you’re a hero.”

Villain didn’t fade like the other ones, but Shinsou could feel the memories slipping through his fingers. Something was happening, the quirk was doing something he hadn’t expected, and he chased after the memories he’d already taken care of. It was like something was drawing them back, a gravitational force he didn’t understand, drawing in the other memories and collecting them into what seemed like one mass.

In telepathy, sometimes when two people are connected for a long time, the stronger telepath could sometimes see creations being formed without them actually being there, sort of a way to rationalize what was going on with the signals the brain was getting. The stronger telepath’s mind could create a picture that only they could see that was deeply connected to the actual feelings and memories of the weaker telepath. Since Bakugou wasn’t telepathically inclined at all, he probably wouldn’t be able to remember this as a telepath might, but as Shinsou looked at what the quirk was turning the weaker memories into, he thought it was for the best that Bakugou wouldn’t be able to.

All four of the words he’d seen amalgamated into one, swirling black hole that turned into what Shinsou thought looked like a building with a single door, with MONSTER emblazoned on it in bright red, flickering neon. It almost looked like the door before a final boss fight in a video game, but Shinsou wasn’t deterred. Besides, this wasn’t real per say, this was just a psychic projection of the emotions the quirk was bringing out in Bakugou.

It was only after he opened the door that he heard a lock snap, and he could sense that the quirk which had its own psychic energy, and was trying to keep him out, was trying to create this into a singular pain that Bakugou couldn’t escape. However, Shinsou had moved as soon as the doorknob had created itself, and the quirk hadn’t been able to lock the door before he got in. Shinsou was going to discuss how this quirk tried to fight him with Aizawa, as he was ninety-nine percent sure that briefcase guy was still controlling the quirk psychically because otherwise he didn’t think the quirk would be fighting him so hard, psychic quirks needed direction and couldn’t generate it on their own.

At first, Shinsou couldn’t perceive anything, only to hear a sound that sounded suspiciously like a child crying. A light flickered on, and a tiny form was illuminated, on their knees, hunched over with their hands out. That was what had been crying. At first, Shinsou thought that this was a projection of Bakugou’s inner child, but when a small head looked up at him, he realized that it was Bakugou as he was, just much smaller than the teenager Shinsou knew. When he recognized Shinsou, he blushed fiercely, unable to look Shinsou in the eyes, somehow getting even smaller. Shinsou wasn’t good at kids, but he thought maybe Bakugou was the size of a five-year-old.

“Bakugou?”

“I didn’t mean to.” Gods, Bakguou sounded so small, Shinsou’s heart just broke all over again.

Shinsou went to his friend, and knelt in front of him, and gasped when he saw Bakugou’s hands were covered in blood.

“Bakugou, what happened? Why is there blood on your hands?”

The sobs just got stronger.

A television screen formed behind them, and from the memories Shinsou had seen, this was the same room he’d been held in by the League of Villains, just empty. Instead of All-for-One on the screen, flashes of memories began to play. Blood bursting from Best Jeanist’s abdomen, Midoriya staring at him with his big green eyes and he could hear Bakugou’s voice say “Why was I the one who ended All Might?”, then it flashed to being in the air, holding Kirishima’s hand, big drops of blood in the air as Mount Lady fell, and then after the fight, All Might in his smaller form, steam emanating from all over his body, his finger pointing straight out. And… somehow, Shinsou could tell that Bakugou felt like it wasn’t pointing at him.

Shinsou rarely acted without thinking. His relationship with other people required him to think first before any action, no matter how small. So many people were quick to jump to the thought that he was a villain that he had to think everything through, even if it was asking to borrow a pencil or asking for notes if he missed a day. But now he wasn’t thinking at all. He just moved.

Arms wrapped around the small form, bringing Bakugou close, holding him as tight as he could. Bakugou just kept sobbing, and Shinsou cupped the back of his head, tucking him into Shinsou’s shoulder. Bakugou was so small that Shinsou could wrap his entire body around with room to spare, crossing his legs and holding all of his friend with all of him.

Shinsou wasn’t sure how long he just held his friend before he felt a hand touch his shoulder, his body’s shoulder. Immediately, he pulled out of Bakugou’s mind, and when he came back to himself he saw Aizawa standing there. There were flashing red lights of an ambulance, where he could see people moving in the back, and they approached quickly. Shinsou stepped away as soon as they did, and he looked back at Bakugou for the first time since he slipped into his mind. The cuts had stopped bleeding, and weak had faded to the point where he couldn’t read it clearly anymore. The wounds were still horrific to look at, but Shinsou thought he’d gotten them down to a level that was more manageable. He thought he might ask Bakugou if he was okay, or at least in less pain than before, but Bakugou’s eyes were already closed, and his breathing was even. The medics must have sedated him, with something stronger than a mental suggestion. It actually seemed to keep him asleep this time, so Shinsou allowed himself to relax a little.

He checked his phone, and to his surprise it had only been a few minutes. He knew telepaths perceived time differently when they were inside someone’s head, but that seemed a bit extreme, even for him. At least Bakugou could sleep off the rest of the hour now.

“You alright?” Aizawa asked, placing his hand on Shinsou’s shoulder again. “Your nose was bleeding.”

Shinsou nodded, his throat tight, wiping away the blood. “I'm fine.”

Aizawa clapped him on the back, and then went to deal with the medics and everything else. Shinsou took a deep breath, and he walked over to where Midoriya and Todoroki were. His friends were talking, Midoriya practically vibrating with worry.

“Shinsou!” Ah, he’d been noticed. “Is everything alright? How’s Kacchan?”

“The medics are helping him now.” Shinsou said, skirting the question. “Just a matter of time now.”

“Are you alright, Shinsou?” Midoriya asked, his green eyes full of sincerity. He could feel his stomach constrict a little, the echoes of Bakugou’s feelings still fresh in his mind.

“I’ll be alright.” Shinsou said. “I’ve just… got a lot to think about.”

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Day 1, 2, 3, 7 13, 15-Bakugou "doesn't get sick"

Trying another whumptober whoo hoo! I got a new job, a great one for the first time in my life lol, and I've got a lot of time to be able to sit down and just write. So I'm gonna try my hardest to finish this whumptober, I've been writing as much as I physically can haha

prompts- swooning, thermometer/delurium, "make it stop", "can you hear me", cold compress, "I'm fine"- fever, passing out, sick Katsuki, todobaku pre, shower scene ;)

Feel free to find this on AO3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50196034/chapters/126773227

This is a long one, so I'm gonna put it under a cut.

Katsuki had been hot and sweaty all day, which is normally something he encouraged for his quirk to work at its highest potential, but today it just felt wrong. He wasn’t sure why, he always took very good care of his body, but something just wasn’t adding up. It was spring, and the weather was supposed to be very nice, but it felt like he couldn’t cool off no matter what he did. He felt like the sun was projecting pure heat through the window as he sat uncomfortably in class, trying his best to pay attention through one of the worst headaches he’d ever had in his life.

To make matters worse, Katsuki had been assigned fucking Todoroki as a partner for an upcoming hero research paper. He hated group work in the first place, but assigning him goddamn Todoroki (even if Aizawa claimed it was random, he never believed that bullshit, Aizawa lied to them all the time) was just adding insult to injury at this point. But he never shirked from his academic responsibilities, he was going to graduate top of his class, so he still had to actually try on this stupid assignment even though he didn’t want to work with the half-n-half bastard. His headache would just have to wait. The sooner they were done, the less he had to talk to IcyHot.

“We’re finishing this as fast as we fucking can,” Katsuki had hissed at Todoroki, who only stared back blankly. Bastard. “I don’t care if you have plans tonight, I’m coming over to your fucking room and we’re finishing this tonight.”

“Aizawa distinctly said we should not do this in one night.” God, even his voice irritated Katsuki. Everything about the bastard irritated Katsuki, from his stupid hair to his stupid muscles to his stupid blank face that never showed any thought Katsuki could pick up on. Kaminari had teased him over ‘how obsessed you are over Todoroki’ and how it ‘sounds like you liiiike him’ but he shut up when Katsuki pushed him off his chair.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “He was talking to the idiots who wait until the last minute to do the work.”

Like the idiots he couldn’t help but call friends because… well, he didn’t know what else to call them. They wouldn’t leave him alone, always forced him to participate in their activities, and every time he tried to leave the group chat they’d set up, he’d just be added right back in and chastised lightly as if he’d just made a small mistake. It had been hard to admit, but sometimes, only sometimes, Katsuki enjoyed their company, and even had fun once or twice. He would never admit to it, especially since he didn’t know how to feel about it, and he refused to be laughed at because he was unsure of these new feelings.

“I suppose we’ll find out when we attempt the assignment.” Todoroki said, which only infuriated Katsuki more, which caused his headache to spike. He wanted to argue some more, but having done it in the past proved its inefficiency. Todoroki never fucking reacted to anything he did, even when he was purposefully antagonizing the bastard just to see him make some kind of facial expression.

“Whatever. I’m coming over right after dinner,” and didn’t that sound disgusting, “so be ready.”

Todoroki nodded, and Katsuki almost felt cheated since Todoroki never reacted to anything he said. He’d seen Todoroki make facial expressions for fucking pathetic Deku, Katsuki was way better than him, why didn’t he get those reactions? Katsuki was ridiculously past good enough to get one of those stupid ass smiles or little puffs of laughter. Katsuki deserved that more than Deku ever would.

Getting through the rest of the day had been difficult, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He just had a headache from dealing with everyone’s bullshit, and the day was a fluke of being too hot, and he just had to get through it. Katsuki was the strongest person in this entire class, he could handle anything. It got easier after school when he took off his uniform and could put on a simple tank and shorts. At dinner, he forced himself to have some congee rather than his normal, nutritionally balanced meal, but the thought of food was so unappealing that forcing himself to cook and eat his routine foods almost outweighed his knowledge that he had to eat dinner in the first place.

When he went to put the half he couldn’t finish in the fridge, Kirishima was in the kitchen, burning whatever he was trying to make. Usually Katsuki could tell by smell alone, but this time he couldn’t smell anything but it was obviously burning. Even worse, Katsuki knew how to salvage his dinner and he didn’t have a reason not to tell him.

“Your heat is too high. Take it out now and it’ll only be slightly burnt.” Katsuki grumbled, rolling his eyes both at himself and his idiot best friend. He couldn’t believe he was best friends with someone who could barely function like an independent human being.

“Thanks, bro!” Katsuki had given up on Kirishima calling him ‘bro’, it seemed to be a core aspect of the redhead’s personality. The chipper smile directed at him as Kirishima did as he said kinda made up for it. Making his friends happy wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever done. “Are you done already? Usually you’re in here cooking up a storm, I was surprised not to see you.”

Kirishima then saw the congee in his hands as he put it in his tupperware, and he frowned. “Dude, is that all you had? Aren’t you the one always yelling at us to ‘make better dinners’? Are you okay?”

Katsuki bristled at the question, his pride flaring up in defense. “I have to work with fucking IcyHot on a dumb fucking project I don’t need a partner for, and apparently I can’t have a simple dinner for once without everyone jumping down my throat! The fuck do you think?”

“Okay, okay, sorry, bro.” Kirishima held up his hands in defense. “Just wanted to check in. You haven’t seemed yourself today.”

Katsuki glared at him. “I don’t need you to ‘check in’. Leave me the fuck alone.”

“If you say so, bro.” Kirishima shrugged. “We’re gonna have a smash brothers tournament at Denki’s tonight, you wanna join in?”

“You shits are lucky I can’t destroy you tonight.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I’m doing my fucking report, which is what you should be doing. When it’s two nights before it’s due, and you still haven’t done it, don’t come crying to me. I won’t help you.”

He would help them. His friends struggled with schoolwork, and if he was going to be seen with them then they had to live up to his reputation. Unfortunately, they couldn’t do that without his help, and he didn’t like watching his friends struggle and seeing them upset over their grades. That stupid feeling he hated outweighed his annoyance at helping them, so, he didn’t really have a choice if he didn’t want that stupid feeling he got when he saw his friends get upset. He didn’t know how, but somehow his idiots had figured that out, and they still came to him every time, and every time, despite him telling himself that he wouldn’t help them this time, he helped them regardless. They were all the worst and he hated them.

But for now, Katsuki was too busy hating the elevator’s stupidly bright lights to hate his friends anymore. Katsuki leaned against the metal, the coolness of the metal a balm on his overly hot skin. He’d never been so glad that the entirety of Heights Alliance had air conditioning. The day had been way too hot today, Katsuki had always been sensitive to hotter temperatures since he couldn’t cool his body through his sweat like other people did, which is probably why he hadn’t heard anyone else complain about it. But he could take anything, any temperature, any obstacle, because no hero worth their salt would let a thing like a hot day stop them so he refused to let it stop him.

Even though he really didn’t want to be doing this, he’d much prefer to just take a cold shower and go to bed early so the day would finally be over, he still pushed forward and went to Todoroki’s room. He went to just walk in, not like the bastard didn’t know he was coming, but the door was locked. He jiggled the door handle a little violently, clearly seeing the light was on under the door, but it still didn’t open. Katsuki’s eye twitched.

knock. knock.

It was the stiffest knock of his life, but apparently that was enough for Todoroki, who finally opened the door. “You knew I was coming, that was a dick move.”

“So is barging in unannounced.” Todoroki replied, raising an eyebrow. Katsuki’s eye twitched again.

“We should get started since you want to finish tonight.” Todoroki said, and Katsuki just growled, and then just set his stuff down on the tiny ass table Todoroki had. Sometimes, Katsuki had to choose his battles. Most of the time, he chose all battles, but this one he had to let go since he didn’t want his grade to suffer.

“I’m taking this pathetic excuse for a chair since you’re apparently so fine with being on the floor.” Katsuki said, referring to the mat Todoroki slept on. Todoroki didn’t protest, he merely just set the mat next to the thing that couldn’t even be called a desk really since it was too damn small. The room didn’t seem to have much in terms of temperature control, as the elevator had been much cooler. It was probably because Todoroki could regulate his own temperature, so he didn’t need the ac unit to do it for him. That was annoying as fuck.

The headache that Katsuki had been working very hard to ignore was becoming more and more of a problem as they worked. Katsuki could at least appreciate the monotone right now since it was quiet, and he spoke slowly enough that Katsuki could hear him despite the pounding in his head. A hammer was slamming into his head with every beat of his heart, and it just got worse as they kept going, the material not interesting enough to get past the pain. He would’ve given up and gone to sleep if he didn’t have to do this damn paper with Todoroki. The bastard couldn’t keep a secret for his life so in order to keep his reputation, he had to keep going, even through the worst headache he’d had in a long time. But with every beat of the hammer, he was losing his resolve. It was only his drive not to be weak that kept him going.

“Bakugou? Did you hear what I said?” Todoroki said, startling Katsuki a little.

“Of course I did. I was just thinking.” Katsuki snapped, trying to brush it off, ignoring the fact that he actually hadn’t heard what Todoroki had said. He hoped it wasn’t important.

“Thinking.” Todoroki echoed, but it wasn’t a question or a challenge. It was just a statement.

“That’s what I fucking said.”

“Are you alright, Bakugou?” Todoroki asked, and Katsuki could almost hear a touch of concern in the monotone. It pissed him off, though he wasn’t sure exactly why. “You’ve been strangely quiet today.”

“I’m fine.” Katsuki sneered, a violent threat in his voice.

Todoroki pursed his lips at him, but only continued on with what he was saying. Katsuki struggled to keep focusing on it, Todoroki’s voice was soothing in its quiet volume, but he couldn’t process the words the bastard was actually saying.

Dammit. He couldn’t keep doing this. If he actually turned in the report they were working on now, Katsuki would get the worst grade he’d ever gotten in his life, even though he very much understood the topic. His headache was just too bad, and the room had only gotten steadily hotter as they’d worked, and Katsuki couldn’t take it anymore, his reputation be damned. He’d just blame it on Todoroki not properly cooling his room and sweating him out of it.

“I’m done, I’m going to bed.” Katsuki said, gathering up his stuff as quickly as he could. He was a little uncoordinated in his haste, but he blamed it on the heat. “We’ll just do this tomorrow.”

Todoroki didn’t even show his surprise beyond a raised eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to do this in one night.”

“It’s not my fault your room is like a sauna and your voice is like a fucking icepick in my head!” Katsuki snapped, absolutely done with today. The room was so hot he was starting to get a little dizzy, and standing just made his vision swim for a moment. “How the fuck am I supposed to focus on court cases and legalities when the room is a million degrees and you won’t fucking shut up?”

That seemed to actually surprise Shouto, though it still only showed in his eyes. “Bakugou, my room isn’t hot. And I was only talking since you wouldn’t. You’ve barely said anything tonight.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, and then had to pinch his nose and shut his eyes when the room blurred, playing it off as annoyance. Dammit, he was so fucking hot. “You wouldn’t notice, you have that stupid temperature thing because of your quirk.”

“I turn on the ac when I have guests, Bakugou.” Todoroki said, and Katsuki scoffed. He was sweating far too much for that to be true. He didn’t doubt that Todoroki was lying, but there was no way the ac was actually on right now. The bastard must’ve just set it to the wrong setting, he wouldn’t be the first in their class to struggle with the thermostat, to his perpetual annoyance.

“Bakugou, I may not be an expert, but you do not look well.” Todoroki said, which only infuriated him more. If he was suddenly going to care about Katsuki, the least he could do was fucking show it. Katsuki knew not everyone wore their emotions on their sleeve, but Todoroki never seemed to have any emotion at all, not even when dealing with Katsuki.

“I’m fine.” Katsuki hissed, parroting what he said earlier, with the same vitriol.

“You clearly are not.” Todoroki said firmly. “I can regulate my own temperature, you’re correct, but I can still feel the temperature around me. My room isn’t hot, and you’re sweating like it’s summer. I think you should see Recovery Girl.”

Katsuki growled an incoherent shout. “I don’t need that old bat, there’s nothing wrong with me beyond suffering from dealing with all you idiots. Fuck off!”

Katsuki turned to leave, but his vision swam so quickly that he had to stop mid-step. His hand came to his eyes, trying to steady himself, forcing himself to push through the heat. But before he could get his body to work, his backpack slipped through his fingers as his vision went black.

“-ugou. Bakugou. Bakugou.” Someone was shaking him, insistence in their voice. He groaned lightly, his eyes fluttering, his head pounding even harder than before. He squinted, and Todoroki then came into focus. He was wearing a look Katsuki had never seen before. It looked almost like worry, but Katsuki couldn’t tell.

He groaned again, and then he felt something blissfully cool against his forehead, easing his headache and the unbearable heat he was trapped in. He sighed, his eyes managing to stay open now. He was in Todoroki’s arms, with Todoroki’s right hand pressed against his forehead. He remembered that Todoroki’s right side was cool, and Katsuki wanted to just sink into him.

“Wha- happen?” Katsuki said, the act of speaking a struggle it had never been before.

“You passed out.” Todoroki said, a frown tugging at his lips. “You have a fever. I’m going to take you to Recovery Girl.”

Todoroki began to push them both upwards, but Katsuki shook his head. “No! No. ‘M fine. Just… just need to sleep it off. ‘M fine.”

“You are not fine, Bakugou.” Todoroki groaned, and Katsuki could’ve sworn he heard concern and frustration in Todoroki’s voice. But that was impossible, Katsuki never got emotion from Todoroki, no matter how hard he tried. “You literally just passed out. You’re sick, Bakugou.”

“I don’t get sick.” Katsuki said, and that was completely true. Katsuki got sick so rarely that he couldn’t even remember the last time. “Be fine. Just need sleep. Don’t need help.”

“You can’t stand on your own.” Todoroki said, deadpan. Katsuki frowned at that, and he opened his mouth again, but Todoroki cut him off. “If you say you’re fine one more time, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and drag you to Recovery Girl.”

Katsuki pouted at that, and stayed silent for a moment, knowing Todoroki was just as serious with his threats as he was.

“I don’t get sick.” He repeated. “Just need to sleep this off.”

Todoroki pursed his lips again, clearly torn between what to do, before he sighed, obviously coming to a decision. “Fine. I’ll take you to your room, but only for now. I can’t tell if this is just your pride or if this is actually how your body works. If you get worse, I’m taking you to Recovery Girl no matter what you say.”

Katsuki nodded, and went to get up, pushing himself up on noodly arms. He immediately fell back into Todoroki. Thankfully, Todoroki didn’t comment on his weakness, he just wrapped Katsuki’s arm around his shoulder and pushed them both up. With Todoroki’s support, Katsuki could mostly walk, his feet dragging a little as he couldn’t raise his feet off the ground very high.

The elevator ride down to the fourth floor was silent, almost awkward. Katsuki couldn’t find the strength to say anything, but Todoroki didn’t seem to mind the silence. Right now, he just wanted his bed more than anything in the world.

Their next obstacle was Katsuki’s door, as he always locked it when he wasn’t in his room. He couldn’t remember where he put his keys at first, patting down his pockets. Suddenly a hand reached into his back pocket and he yelped a little at the surprise, his reaction was too slow, but he still hated being startled with touch. Had for a long time. Todoroki then handed him his keys, with a sheepish look on his face. “I saw them in your pocket. Thought I’d save you the trouble.”

Katsuki took the keys and opened his door, using the door handle to keep himself up, trying to keep himself upright on his own. Todoroki went to follow him in and Katsuki growled again.

“No one goes in my room.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Todoroki said, a little snippy, uncaring that he was stepping into Katsuki’s space.

Todoroki turned on the lights, and Katsuki hissed as his headache spiked, unconsciously pressing himself into the nape of Todoroki’s neck. Todoroki immediately turned the light off with a quiet “sorry.” before he started walking again.

Katsuki flopped into bed with all the grace of a newborn giraffe, but his bed was cool (he had special sheets so he wouldn’t overheat as he slept, his parents had designed them for him) and that was all that mattered to him. He rolled onto his side, felt something lift his legs into the bed, and he was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, just barely feeling a cool hand brush his sweaty bangs out of his face.

“- been asleep for a little while… nothing’s changed…”

“- not sure, Todoroki. He really doesn’t get sick that often. I think the last time was over five years ago. Even I don’t really remember.”

He knew that voice. Goddammit, he knew that voice and he went to glare at fucking useless Deku, but he was still squinting in the darkness he’d woken up in, lessening its effect. Todoroki had left the door open a little, the hall lights shining in his room far too brightly for his headache. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but his mind wasn’t as fuzzy as before. Still way too fucking hot though.

“You got fucking Deku?” Katsuki growled, refusing to admit that it sounded more like a whine.

“I didn’t know anyone else who would know how your body works when it’s sick.” Todoroki said matter-of-factly, coming back over to Katsuki’s bed. He was mostly forgiven when he put his cool hand back on Katsuki’s burning forehead, getting a soft noise Katsuki didn’t even know he made.

“Well, his parents will know, for sure.” Deku said to Todoroki. Katsuki glared harder. “I can call them, figure out where to go from here.”

Todoroki nodded.

Deku then handed Todoroki a rather big box that Katsuki surprisingly recognized. Auntie Inko knew how injured they got in training, especially since Deku wouldn’t fucking stop constantly breaking all of his bones, and had gifted him the same first aid kit that Deku held in his hands. Actually, it really wasn’t a first aid kit but a mini hospital, with so many things Katsuki didn’t know when he’d ever use some of them. (Seriously, Auntie, when was he gonna need a goddamn stethoscope?) He’d only taken it because his mother would’ve been mad if he made Auntie cry, not that he could handle her tears anyways, and, well… secretly he could appreciate the gesture. He never understood why Auntie continued to try and take care of him even though he really wanted nothing to do with her son, but he supposed that’s just how she was. Deku too, but he was way more annoying about it.

“You should take his temperature, if he’ll let you.” Deku said, still talking to Todoroki and not him. “You’ll have a way better chance with him than I will.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” Katsuki shouted, immediately regretting the loudness when he made his own headache worse.

“Sorry, Kacchan.” Katsuki just glared at him, fighting off the wince he’d just given himself. “I- I’ll just go call Uncle Masaru now.”

Deku stepped out of the room, and Todoroki set the kit down onto his nightstand, digging through it with one hand, keeping his right hand on Katsuki’s forehead.

“There are three thermometers in here.” Todoroki stated, seemingly a little overwhelmed by Auntie’s overprotective nature. “And they’re all different.”

Katsuki made a noncommittal noise. Something then pushed gently at his mouth, and he turned his glare to Todoroki.

“I can’t use the other ones, I’ve been cooling you off too much.” Todoroki said, poking him again. “They won’t give accurate results. This is the only one left.”

“I can do it myself.” Katsuki said, trying to move his mouth as little as possible.

Todoroki sighed, definitely sounding frustrated. “Bakugou, will you please just put your damn pride aside for two minutes? I just want to help you. You’re my friend. Let me help you.”

This was the first he’d heard about them being friends, though he supposed he had started paying more attention to Todoroki after their supplemental classes. He hadn’t thought it had been reciprocated though. But even if they were friends now, this was something he couldn’t allow. He wasn’t weak, he didn’t need help, not even Todoroki’s.

Not even if a dark part of him wanted to accept it.

Moving his body was like trying to move through molasses, but he did eventually get his arm out from under the blanket (when did he get a blanket?) and he reached for the thermometer. Todoroki sighed, but gave it to him. This time, the silence was awkward as they waited for the thermometer to beep. He wasn’t sure why this time was so different.

Deku was the one who broke it when he came back in. He still didn’t like anyone in his room, but he didn’t have the strength to blast the fucker out, even if he did have the sweat.

“Uncle said that there’s not much we can do except keep him cool, the illness just has to run its course.” Deku frowned, trying not to talk directly to Todoroki and failing. “And. um. Auntie Mitsuki said, um, not to take any of his, uh, ‘bullshit’. Her words, not mine.”

Todoroki just nodded. Katsuki didn’t know what that meant.

Once the thermometer finally beeped, Todoroki withdrew it without asking permission. Oh, that’s what that meant. Damn hag, and damn Deku. Todoroki took everything too literally, Deku should’ve fucking translated his mother’s stupid words.

“39.27 (102.7)” The monotone was back. Katsuki felt an emotion he didn’t know how to describe, but it wasn’t pleasant. “That’s higher than I was expecting, though unsurprising.”

“Yeah, Uncle said when Kacchan gets sick, he really gets sick.”

Katsuki growled at him again, wanting to yell and blow him up but trying not to be stupid and repeat past mistakes. His head was still throbbing from the earlier shout.

“I-I-I should go, Todoroki.” Deku said, shrinking away from him. “I think I’m just making it worse. He doesn’t want me here.” No. No he didn’t. Especially since he wouldn’t stop talking about him like he wasn’t there in his own fucking room. “Do you want to come with me? I’m sure Kirishima wouldn’t mind looking after him.”

The beat in between Deku’s question and Todoroki’s answer made the emotion he had worse.

“No. I’ll keep him cool for now. It’s no trouble.” Katsuki didn’t know whether that made him happy or annoyed. God, he hated emotions, they were literally the worst. It was so much easier to just be angry all the time.

“Don’t forget to not overuse your quirk, Todoroki. Just let one of us know if you get too cold. We’ll figure something out.”

Todoroki just nodded and Deku very quickly left the room. If Katsuki was more childish like his friends, he would’ve flipped him off as he left. But Deku didn’t deserve what little energy he had, and closing the door until very little light was left was at least the decent thing to do.

“You can leave, IcyHot.” Katsuki grumbled. “I’m-mmph.” Suddenly Todoroki’s cool hand was over his mouth. Katsuki did not like that, he didn’t like anyone touching his face and it had only gotten worse since the-incident-that-shall-not-be-named. He nipped at Todoroki’s hand, and it quickly returned to his forehead, but the message to shut up was loud and clear.

“Stop saying you’re fine.” Todoroki snapped, and Katsuki thought he almost sounded angry. Katsuki didn’t know that Todoroki could even get angry. “Stop lying to me. I don’t care about your stupid pride, and I cannot understand why you won’t let it go for two seconds for your friends. I want to help you but I can’t if you won’t let me. Why won’t you let me? Do you… do you hate me?”

Grand displays of emotion were hard for him. Grand displays of emotion coming from Todoroki were another beast entirely. Katsuki had no idea how to respond to this, and if he wasn’t sick, he wouldn’t have responded to it beyond anger. But right now, with a fever he could no longer deny, his mind didn’t immediately go to the rage he used to shield him from emotions he didn’t like. It just took much energy that he didn’t have, and he hated himself for his weakness.

“No.” Was Katsuki’s response, and it was a lot more awkward than he’d wanted it to be.

“Then why won’t you stop lying to me?” Todoroki said, looking just as uncomfortable as Katsuki was. But apparently, not uncomfortable enough to shut up and let this go. “I thought you respected me, at least a little.”

Shit. Katsuki did not like letting people know when he respected them. They never responded in  a way that Katsuki liked or could handle, either acting all smug about it or like it was obvious that they deserved it. Both reactions drove Katsuki up the wall.

Thinking about this was too hard, even with the soothing coolness Todoroki was projecting. He didn’t do emotions, and everything he was feeling right now just made him even uncomfortable in his skin. He’d take the fever and headache over this any day.

“I didn’t lie to you, I’m fine by myself.” Katsuki said. “I can take care of myself.”

“Except you won’t.” Todoroki snapped again and Katsuki internally cursed at his mother for putting this idea into Todoroki’s stupid head. “Taking care of yourself would’ve been canceling our plans, or going to see Recovery Girl. You refused to do either. That’s not taking care of yourself. You couldn’t even admit to me that you weren’t feeling well after you literally passed out in my arms. You’re lucky I was there to catch you, what if you weren’t with me? What if it happened when you’d stepped into the hall and I hadn’t followed you? You might’ve gotten a concussion or worse. If you don’t hate me, then why can’t you let me care about you?”

Katsuki unconsciously curled a little into himself, his quills puffing up, ready to lash out at any moment. His head hurt, and even with the frosty air Todoroki was creating he was on fire, he just couldn’t deal with this right now. Being sick for the first time in years was already way too much for him, he’d never felt so shitty in his life, and having fucking Todoroki of all people see him this weak made him so uncomfortable he didn’t have a word for it. Katsuki didn’t understand why Todoroki was so upset, and thinking about it hurt his head too much. He didn’t even have an answer for Todoroki. He didn’t have an answer when his friends asked him the same question after they were fed up with his insistence on independence and refusing to accept their help. He’d learned the hard way that sometimes he had to depend on other people, but that hadn’t made it any easier to deal with. So he’d rather just not deal with it at all.

After a fair amount of silence, Todoroki just sighed, sounding resigned. This was the most emotion Katsuki had seen out of Todoroki since he’d met the bastard. Katsuki thought that was very rude, and he should’ve gotten this a lot earlier. Though, he could do without the annoyance and anger. “You should get some sleep, Bakugou.”

Well, now he was purposefully not gonna do that, even though he was exhausted. Once spite was activated there was no stopping it. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Then stop being an idiot.” Todoroki hissed.

Katsuki glared at Todoroki but it didn’t matter since Todoroki still wasn’t looking at him, only straight ahead.

“Don’t fucking insult me.”

“I’ll do whatever I want, thanks.” Todoroki said, matching his energy. “Since that’s all you do, I get to do it too.”

“Oh fuck you!” Katsuki snapped, absolutely done with this stupid bastard, throwing his own words in his face was the last straw. “Get the fuck out of my room! Leave me the fuck alone!”

It was quiet for a minute.

“Fine.”

Todoroki ripped his hand away from Katsuki’s forehead and stood sharply. He walked out without another word, and Katsuki expected the door to slam and prepared himself for it. But Todoroki caught it just before it did, and he closed the door quietly behind him.

Katsuki stared at the door for a moment, almost in disbelief. Todoroki never got angry, let alone to this extreme. He thought even Deku hadn’t seen that before, the damn nerd would’ve said something. Even though Katsuki liked antagonizing Todoroki, liked seeing if he could get the bastard to show emotion, even if it was negative emotions, this didn’t… this didn’t make him feel good. The emotion he hadn’t been able to describe twisted in his gut, making his chest hurt in a way that it never had before. He wanted to get Todoroki riled up, it’s why he talked to him the way he did, the way he purposely tried to push the bastard’s buttons, that was his end goal. He wanted to see Todoroki show some sort of emotion, any sort of emotion.

So why did that make him feel so shitty?

Getting what he wanted never made him feel bad in the past. It was a point of pride for him that he basically always got what he wanted, that he’d earned what he’d wanted. Katsuki was always so sure of himself, he always knew what he wanted, and he did everything he could to get it.

Was this… actually what he wanted? Somehow, he didn’t think so. Which never happened, Katsuki always knew what he wanted, and he never regretted anything. (Well, he regretted a few things but he never let himself think about them so that was basically the same thing.) But the more the silence of the room echoed in his ears, the more he regretted saying any of those things, and not just because he’d lost the hand that had been keeping his headache at a somewhat manageable level. The icepick in his head only seemed to make his actions seem worse, and Katsuki did not like that. Even though he knew he was an asshole with no filter, and no intent on getting one, this felt like he’d gone too far. He’d gone too far a couple of times in his life, and this felt worse than all of them.

With the door closed, heat was starting to build up in his room, and the blanket that he still didn’t know how he got was kicked around to his legs. His hand flopped around to his nightstand, opening the drawer and grabbing the remote for his ac unit. He turned it down several degrees, and didn’t have the energy to put it back. His hand just fell to his bed, and his eyes closed on their own accord. Even though he’d wanted to stay up to spite Todoroki, despite the fact that he couldn’t remember why anymore, his body just started to shut down on its own. At least sleep would be a reprieve from the overwhelming pain in his chest and his head, so he surrendered to the thick haze of sleep and hoped he’d wake up without this agony.

Blood. Blood and screams and death and fear. Katsuki spun around, lost and scared, wanting to run but unsure of where he could run to. Screams rang in his ears from all directions, each one different yet full of the same agony. Each one echoed their pain into his heart, overwhelming him with emotions he couldn’t handle. Unable to take anymore, his legs took off running without thinking, his chest heaving as the torturous screams pierced his chest.

He skidded to a stop as an image flashed in his mind, his own scream blending into the background. Deku’s body was still crackling with energy, his green lightning dying as Deku lay still. His arms and legs were both black, bent in horrific ways, and Katsuki’s stomach lurched as his gaze finally landed on Deku’s chest. His ribs had pierced through his skin, his chest cavity a mess of blood and bone, surprise still written on Deku’s lax face, his green eyes dull and lifeless. Again, Katsuki’s legs took off without his consent, tears streaming down Katsuki’s face as nausea built in his stomach.

His arms flailed as he slipped on something wet and sticky, crashing into some sort of small building. Looking up, Katsuki screamed again, seeing Kirishima spread eagle across the top, his head hanging down, his neck brutally slit open, dripping blood into the fiery red hair he was so famous for. Katsuki slipped again in his haste to get up, realizing with a sickening jolt that he was slipping on Kirishima’s blood.

“Make it stop.” Katsuki sobbed. “Make it stop.”

He finally got up again, only to freeze in place. In front of him was Ashido, lying in a heap, her neck bone protruding from her skin as her head twisted the other way. As more and more tears spilled down his cheeks, he turned and turned and turned. Jirou, her own earphones wrapped around her red, raw neck. Sero hanging from his own tape, his limp hands still stuck from trying to free himself. Kaminari’s head soaked, water still dripping from his motionless mouth. His world began to spin, and he crashed to the ground, curling into a ball.

“Make it stop.” Katsuki covered his ears and shut his eyes, trying to block it all out. “Please, make it stop.”

The world went silent.

Katsuki warily opened his eyes. Vast ground filled only with empty space. He was too scared to try and speak, terrified that the death and screams and blood would come back. No matter where he looked, all he found was emptiness until he came across Todoroki, laying on the ground too, facing away from him.

He crawled over hesitantly, his mouth moving to speak Todoroki’s name but his vocal cords refused to make any noise. Katsuki’s hand hovered over Todoroki’s body for a moment, not seeing anything on his red side. Maybe he was just unconscious? His hand finally landed on Todoroki’s arm, frowning as it was cool. No, no, his red was his fire side, he should’ve been warm. His hand jerked as he pulled it back, causing Todoroki to roll over.

Katsuki screamed again, his voice laden with agony as Todoroki’s head lolled to the side. His white side had completely disappeared, charred to ash, his skin covered in burns matching the scar on his face. He cowered away, his hands dragging him away from Todoroki’s dead body. He slipped again, curling back into a ball, sobbing.

Everyone he had ever cared about was gone, and Katsuki was alone. Emptiness beat in his ears, the silence louder than any of the screams had been. His sobs echoed across the vastness, his breath the only other sound. He longed for his friends, wanted someone to still be with him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay. That he would have more than himself to keep him company, to make him smile just a little, to make him let out a breathy laugh. To watch with amusement as they did something stupid, being far too noticeable when he was socially awkward with his stupid confused face, silently sitting with him when they knew he wanted company but couldn’t take any more noise. Grabbing him in one arm hugs, ruffling his hair and dodging when he swatted at them, squishing him when they were all crammed together in too small of a space to fit all of them. He wanted that back, he wanted them back so badly, he’d do anything.

“Anything, huh?” The back of his neck burned, and he was lifted off the ground. He writhed in the grip, sludge rising from the ground to latch onto his body, forcing him into submission.

“No, no, please, stop!” Katsuki wailed, the sludge only growing stronger, binding his body in muck. The heat on the back of his neck increased, and another hand forced his head forward, his eyes only able to focus on Todoroki’s lifeless body. “Not like this, not like this!”

“Aw, I thought you said ‘anything’.” The voice taunted. “Don’t you love them? Wouldn’t you do anything for them? You know we have an offer for you, you remember our last one.”

“Can’t.” Katsuki wanted to shake his head, but the grip was too strong. “Won’t betray them.”

“Then die with them.”

Katsuki couldn’t move, his entire body now encased in the sludge, could barely talk as the goo began to tease at going in his mouth and down his throat. 

“Not again.” Katsuki gasped, feeling the horrid taste of the sludge as it crept slowly, maliciously, into his mouth. “Please not again.”

A mocking laugh, and then the sludge forced itself down his throat, cutting off his air. Katsuki panicked, writhing with great strength, but useless, so uselessly. The world spun one last time as he grew dizzy from hypoxia, and he fell into darkness with taunting laughter echoing around him.

Katsuki jolted up in bed, a silent scream on his lips. His eyes rolled at the heat of his room, just as dizzy as he was in his fever induced nightmare, practically seeing the waves of heat energy radiating from his furniture, his walls. He had to cool down. If he didn’t cool down, he thought he was going to die, his body melting into his bed.

His room had a shower. The door was right there. He just had to get there, the water could cool him down. He pushed himself up, his arms too shaky to hold him for long. Maneuvering his body was like trying to walk straight in a gyroscope. He stepped forward with his left foot, shaking as he stood, desperately trying to go forward. His right foot was next, but it was still tangled up in the blanket of unknown origin. He tried to pull it free, but another strong bout of dizziness sent him tumbling to the floor.

The world faded in and out as he lay on the floor, his arms trying to push himself up, but he crashed back down every time. He just didn’t have the strength to get up, the attempts draining what little he had until he just gave up. His vision flickered in and out, his sweat soaking into his carpet, his heart carrying agony all over his body, igniting each nerve with a bonfire, his head pounding like a thunderstorm’s rage.

“Sorry to disturb you…”

“Eh, no worries, Todoroki. If Bakubro needs me, then I’m there, no matter what.”

Even though the door was closed, Katsuki could still hear the voices through it. The dorm walls carried sound better than any speaker.

His door quietly creaked open, driving another spike of pain into his head. “Bakugou? Hey man, are you- oh shit!”

Light blinded him for a moment, before he felt a cold arm heave him up, cradling him in iciness. He whimpered, the sudden shock of frigidity making him wince. A warmer hand came to his forehead before jerking back with a hiss.

“He’s burning up.” Kirishima gasped, cursing again.

“Kirishima, get Recovery Girl.” Todoroki ordered, taking charge of the situation. “I’m gonna try to cool him down.”

Kirishima nodded, his face set in his ‘serious mode’. His best friend should’ve been a comfort, but seeing Kirishima’s frown and furrowed brow just made him a little scared. Kirishima was one of the smiliest people he’d ever met, and Katsuki always told him that his face would get stuck like that. It was always laughed off, bringing out that same smile, which always made Katsuki roll his eyes. But he still liked seeing it, and when it was missing, Katsuki didn’t like it, not one bit.

“Don’t use your quirk, use his shower.” Kirishima said, standing. “Anything lower than room temperature is too cold, you’ll send him into shock.”

Todoroki just nodded, and Katsuki wondered if he’d already known that, or if his temperature regulation thing kept him from getting fevers. Kirishima bolted out the door, his steps thudding down the hall then the stairs.

Another arm came to his knees, and he was lifted into the air. His vision swirled again, able to tell he was moving but unable to process anything else. His legs were gently placed on the ground, but then the sound of a massive waterfall assaulted him and he turned back into the soft, wintry physique. But then he was pulled away from it, and he didn’t know whether that felt good or bad. The waterfall then disappeared, and he saw that Todoroki had switched the tap to shower.

The arm came back to his knees, and another dizzying bit of motion finished with water pelting at him, as he was pressed against something that didn’t feel hot or cold. Even though the water droplets were needle-sharp, they were cool, and Katsuki sank into it, feeling the water soothe the bonfire under his skin. He wasn’t sure how long he was under the spray before his mind finally cleared enough to focus on his surroundings. Katsuki was laying against Todoroki, who was holding him up by his waist, in Katsuki’s shower. Katsuki decided to be embarrassed about this later, when he didn’t feel so shitty and when Todoroki wasn’t keeping him from drowning in his own shower.

“‘roki?” Katsuki groaned, his voice weak and quiet. But thankfully Todoroki still heard him.

“Yes, Bakugou?”

“I don’ feel so good.” Katsuki said, looking up at Todoroki. He must’ve looked like a drowned cat, his hair soaked and stuck to his forehead, his clothes soaked to the skin, his skin showing through his white tank top, Katsuki didn’t think he’d ever looked so pathetic in his life.

“No shit.” Todoroki muttered grumpily. “You couldn’t have said that a few hours ago?”

Katsuki ducked his head a little, his cheeks were already flushed but the pink got a little stronger. “Couldn’t. Can’t be weak. Specially not in front of you.”

That made Todoroki pause, and then meet his eye again. “Me?”

Katsuki nodded shakily.

“Why?” Todoroki breathed, the shower louder than both of their voices.

“Because… you’re so strong.” Katsuki mumbled, the fever that still raged within him loosening his tongue. If he were coherent, he’d rather be caught dead than saying shit like this, but he was still so hot and the water felt so good and his mind felt so worn thin that he just kept talking. “Noticed the first day I saw you. Never met anyone like you. Stronger than me. Pissed me off.”

Todoroki scoffed. “Of course it would.” a sigh. “But why would that mean you can’t be ‘weak’ around me?”

“Weakness doesn’t get notice. ‘N like that. Wanted notice.”

There was another beat of silence. Katsuki turned his head into Todoroki’s cooler side, using him as an ice pack for his still aching head.

“Are you saying that you thought I wouldn’t notice you if I thought you were weak?” Todoroki murmured, his voice low and uncertain.

His body was starting to get wracked with tremors, but he managed a nod through it. He couldn’t tell if he was shivering or shaking, just feeling his body vibrate, and the bonfire inside him was starting to win the battle against the water. His body went limp as the fire began to consume him, his eyes rolling around in his head.

“I, I… Bakugou? Bakugou, what’s wrong? Bakugou!” Todoroki’s voice jumped in emotion, in worry, but Katsuki could no longer differentiate the emotions. Todoroki was little more than a red and white blur now, Katsuki’s world spinning faster than a top, black spots dotting his vision, growing larger with each rotation. His mind lost all sense of reality, darkness swirling around him like a maelstrom. Voices again rang in his ears, but he couldn’t distinguish one from another.

“-hear me? Bakugou, can you hear me?”

“He was talking a minute ago, but…”

“-unresponsive -get him to the infirmary- covery girl can- hurry…”

Someone grabbed his arms, hauling him into the air, and the sudden movement had him blacking out entirely, falling into the black hole the maelstrom had created.

~~

Consciousness was murky, muddying his perception into something unintelligible as he slipped in and out of the darkness always on the edge of his mind. He wasn’t sure how long it took for his mind to clear, but the longer time went on, he sluggishly began to become more aware of his surroundings. He discovered new pain in his hand, but the agony in his head had subsided a great deal, though it wasn’t entirely gone. He was laying on something familiar but uncomfortable, his body propped up against it. To his immense relief, he found that he wasn’t on fire for the first time in what felt like days. 

Dazedly, he opened his eyes, immediately squinting at the bright overhead lights. It took him a minute to adjust, but the light didn’t increase his headache much, so he managed easily enough. White walls came into focus, along with cool, white sheets on the bed he couldn’t remember getting in, with a light blue canvas on his chest. He pulled lightly at it, confused, and pulled his hand up to his vision. No wonder it hurt, there was an IV stabbed through his hand, drawing out a noise of discomfort. He felt like he hadn’t slept in years, his mind struggling to keep up with the world around him.

Footsteps had his head immediately turning, his instincts sharper than any discombobulation, and he made another discovery, movement didn’t make him dizzy anymore. But that didn’t answer the question of what had happened, but the old woman walking towards him at least contributed to it. He knew this room, this was the infirmary, but he couldn’t remember how he got here.

“Ah, young Bakugou, I was wondering when you’d come back to us.” The old bat said, sounding far too cheerful.

He frowned at her, trying and failing to process her words in time as Recovery Girl walked up to his bed. His head still swam in uncertainty, cognizance lagging out like one of his friends’ video games. She stood on one of her little step-stools, coming up to his level, patting his hand gently before putting something uncomfortable in his ear. He groaned, attempting to turn away, but she cupped his cheek, gently but firmly keeping him in place.

“Keep still, it’s alright.” Her voice was as gentle as her hand, but that didn’t soothe him much. “Just a few seconds more.”

A quiet beeping and she kept her word. “38.44 (101.2). Much better, considering you came in at 40.5 (104.9). Any higher and you might’ve had permanent brain damage.”

Oh shit. That was bad. That was very bad. A brief flash of fear ran up his spine, a spike of anxiety panging in his stomach.

“Wha’ happ’n?” Katsuki asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“A stress fever.” She replied, handing him a little paper cup of water. His hand was shaking a little as he took it, but he kept her help to a minimum. “Unsurprising, considering the amount of stress you all are under, you especially. Normally, they’re not an issue, and they fade rather quickly, but you’re a special case. As you know, your sweat can’t cool you down like most people so you’re easily affected by fevers. Since you didn’t come to me, or do anything to reduce it, your fever just worsened and worsened until your body couldn’t take it anymore. You’re very lucky that Todoroki and Kirishima found you when they did.”

Jumbled memories came to the forefront of his mind, of Kirishima’s voice in his room, a hand on his forehead, of Todoroki carrying him, holding him as they lay in the shower. Fuck, that was embarrassing, and the chastising Recovery Girl was giving just made him feel even worse.

“Didn’t notice.” He said, needing to defend himself, his pride leaving him unable to do anything less. After all, it wasn’t like he’d done this on purpose. He may hate being in this damn room, but he wasn’t stupid enough to not seek medical help when he was seriously sick. He just honestly hadn’t noticed something was wrong until it was too late. He’d dealt with plenty of hot and uncomfortable days before so he thought yesterday had been no different. “Not til af’r dinner. Don’t get sick.”

“Yes, young Midoriya said that.” Recovery Girl sighed. “As did your parents when I called them. They said since they’re currently in Madrid, they’d do their best, but the flight home is rather long, even without layovers. Hopefully, by the time they do get here, you’ll be fever free.”

Well, his day just got a lot worse. Katsuki hated it when his parents had to pick him up from school. He didn’t need his parents to come and fuss over him, he wasn’t a baby.

His unhappiness must’ve shown on his face, since Recovery Girl just tutted at him. “Give them a break, you gave them quite a scare. You’ve gotten very good at that.”

Katsuki huffed, definitely not pouting.

“Really, I should’ve expected something like this to happen.” She muttered. He cocked his head in confusion. “It’s been a week since I’ve had one of you in here, and if someone from 1A isn’t in here, something is very wrong.”

He had to admit, that seemed like solid logic. He was classmates with the biggest dumbasses he’d ever met, and they were all klutzy and accident prone, and that was off the battlefield.

“Speaking of your classmates,” ah hell, what do those idiots want now? “when you’re feeling up to it, you’ll have plenty of visitors.”

Oh fuck no, he was not doing that. His classmates were so emotional, crying and pitying and all sorts of terrible shit he hated being around. He got uncomfortable when one of his friends was upset, he couldn’t take the whole class. Leaving before Recovery Girl said he could sounded like a much better option. He’d rather get yelled at than deal with all of his dumbasses.

“Try to get out of this bed and I’ll sedate you.” Recovery Girl said bluntly. Katsuki deflated, miserably becoming resigned to his fate. Obviously, this was just going to be one of the shittiest days of his life and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“I’ll keep them from overwhelming you.” She said sympathetically, patting his hand again, and that was at least something. Normally, he would’ve snapped that he didn’t need her pity, but he could tell it wasn’t pity. He didn’t quite know what it was, but anything was better than pity. “But for right now, you should get some sleep. Let your body’s natural processes heal you. I’d much rather have your body heal itself, I don’t like how high a dosage of fever reducer I have to give you to help you fight this. I want to take you off that as soon as I can.”

Ah, that explained the IV, and why his mind wasn’t working right. He’d seen his idiot friends on too much cold medicine before, he’d just never experienced it himself until now. It was a lot more disconcerting than he would’ve thought. Next time, he’d have to watch more closely when one of his idiots got sick, this fucking sucked.

Sleep did sound like a fantastic idea, though. Keeping up with this conversation was taking far too much energy than it should’ve, and Katsuki was just fucking done. Even better, if he slept the rest of the day away, he could avoid all of the extras and idiots who wanted to ‘visit’ him and annoy him with their presence. The medication was no doubt keeping his spite under control, as when Recovery Girl stepped down to do other shit he didn’t give a fuck about, he could just close his eyes and let the exhaustion that been on the edge of his mind since he woke up take him without much resistance.

[bloodyfeverdreams]

Awww I’m so touched! I’ve heard a lot of good things about Always Sunny and I really should check it out someday. I love this community :>

Last Song You Listened To:

Oh I love the new rendition of “We Didn’t Start the Fire”, Fall Out Boy was not on my 2023 bingo card, but I’m so glad they did it. I love that song, and how serious they took each of the events. Also EverGiven Suez in the same place as the previous song makes me craaazzyyyy hehe

Currently Reading:

I don’t really have the ability to read right now, healing has set me back a lot unfortunately, but I will never not take a moment to promote @aliceinwhumperland​ ‘s Jack and Simone stories. They’re literally stories that I could never get enough of and I can’t wait to reread them eventually. But in terms of currently reading, all I can really do is maybe a sick!Bakugou Katsuki when I’m feeling good. Torment that spiky blonde and make the gremlin feel vulnerable and I will go feral :>

Currently Watching:

I am a 28 year old grown adult and I am unashamed to say I’m watching Bluey. I adore this show, it’s wonderful and sweet and I swear every episode helps heal my ptsd a little bit more. Also it’s really just a good show, with really great morals. I’ve seen plenty of other shows that have really shitty morals and make people apologize for not being wrong and giving in to the person who’s being mean and/or unreasonable, but this show doesn’t do that. The parents regularly apologize to their kids when they screw up, and they admit to them that they screwed up. I swear I come way too close to tears over this show. I know everyone loves Sleepytime, but honestly mine is Bin Night. That one always gets me, right in the feels.

And I will die on the hill that Muffin isn’t a spoiled brat. She’s just three you monsters. I can tell that none of you have ever been around a three-year-old. They throw tantrums all the time, and it’s a good thing that she feels comfortable being able to express her emotions all the time around her family. That means she feels safe. I am a Muffin defender and I will be forever.

Current Obsession:

I have a couple haha I play Disney Dreamlight Valley every day, I love this game. I really don’t like games that are too intense or with too much fighting or where I die and have to restart. I’ll play Lego games with my partner @withywhump​ (who you should definitely check out, they’re amazing) but that’s as far as I go. But this is soft and sweet and actually has a plot and I get to hang out with all of the characters I’ve always wanted to interact with since before I can remember. And some I’m not too fond of but eh, gotta take them all together. The other one is my always obsession with My Hero Academia. Honestly, if anyone wants to talk the show (up to season five I haven’t been able to continue until Katsuki is proven to be alive) or Bakugou Katsuki or Todoroki Shouto, I will talk until you’re begging me to stop haha

tagging

@taylortut​ @whumpitywhumpwhump​ @sick-bae​ @straight-to-the-pain​ @thefevertrope​ @la-vie-en-whump​ @a-fever-a-day​

9 people you'd like to get to know better

Thank you for tagging me @moonystardust7!

Last Song You Listened To: Something off of Lover by Taylor Swift. I think is was It's Nice to Have a Friend.

Currently Reading: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and fanfiction of course.

Currently Watching: Nothing but I just finished watching Arcane.

Current Obsession: Arcane. I just binge watched it and it is so good! Also Six of Crows and Varian and the Seven Kingdoms.

Tagging: @simplydifficultme @lilisouless @littlemisslol-fic @imaginativeworks @marvinthecrow @baura-bear @crystallizedtwilight @rupturedhaven @promptful