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All he could see was darkness. No part of his body was his anymore. Every movement was painful as he was puppeteered around a space that didn’t exist. Echoes surround him, of mocking laughter, blood curdling screams, and a voice yelling a name. He knows the voice, knows the name. His name. He has to find it. “Come”. Light shatters through the darkness and all too quickly it’s burnt out. The voice cradling his name fades, replaced with words repeating “weak”… “useless”… “villain”. Villains are weak. Being defeated by a villain is to be weaker than them. To be below them, to might as well be one of them.
The need to win is haunting. Winning is earned and awarded to a hero. But sometimes it’s what villains take away from them. It is taken away and there is no power in the world to stop it. The narrative is written, where he wins as a villain or dies as a hero.
He wills his body to move, but nothing happens. Each attempt to fight tightens the suffocation within. He is choking from the inside out and drowning in the darkness that isn’t air. It’s sludge, it’s thick, it’s everywhere. It taunts him to win. To give in and be released. Let go... to be hurtful, ruthless, and unforgiving. It’s an ending without a beginning.
He cannot be a villain. He will not be. But he’s afraid he’ll give in. It crosses his mind and stays there. Where is the hand? Where is the one who can save him?
It never comes and Bakugou stops breathing.
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Bakugou sits up in his bed gasping for the air he never thought he would breathe again. His heart fights to beat out of his chest. His lungs no longer inflate and suffocation threatens him. His hair sticks to his forehead, dripping in sweat. His body vibrates with adrenaline, useless to win the fight within his mind.
It was just another nightmare. Just a nightmare. It’s not real. Fuck. Villains need to stop fucking with his head and just let him have a good fucking night’s sleep without nightmares waking him up every few hours. He’s stronger than this. He lived through the kidnapping and escaped… it’s over and he should be ok.
It had been like this since the first night coming home from Kamino. All these assholes thought he was a villain. Even the public saw him as such. Fuck them, they don’t know shit. Tears start to make tracks down him face and Bakugou scrubs at his eyes aggressively. Fuck this. Fuck the sludge monster, the stupid shit that started all of this. It’s over. It’s over. It’s…
Fuck the feeling of not being able to breathe. That’s what always hurts the most. The one true thing that terrifies him is suffocating and not being able to break free from it, to die drowning. Being bound, unable to escape, and only see the world dim in and out of focus. Not being able to breathe, with flashing visions of Deku’s face, the sports festival crowd cheering, Shigaraki telling him he’s a villain, and All Might... His hero couldn’t do anything, was powerless to stop the black sludge that choked him from the inside, being torn away and out of control. He was left to the nightmare with no way out.
But he is out of the nightmare. Bakugou is lucid enough to know he’s in reality. A reality where he’s spiraling and doesn’t know how to make it stop, but it’s still the reality where he’s alive. Please, after all this, not another sleepless night, he begs to the traitor in his mind. Bakugou knows how his body has decayed little by little the past few days. How heavy his eyes are and how shaky he moves. Sometimes when he walks into a room, it starts caving in on him and he can’t escape it.
He spent the whole two days between Kamino and moving in to the dorms searching for safety. Safety isn’t a word he’d associate with his home, the place he knows the most. It holds too many confusing memories and feelings of anger. Too many conflicts with his mother. Too many words from his parents of “we’re so relieved to have you back Katsuki” paired with “it’s your fault you were in this mess.” The echoing words of his mother “you wouldn’t have been kidnapped if you weren’t so weak.” He hates those words repeating too many times in his head.
The old hag is right, isn’t she? She said it in front of All Might and Aizawa, and neither of them said anything otherwise. Aizawa may have defended Bakugou’s resolve to be a hero at the press conference, but he never said whether Bakugou deserved being kidnaped or not. Was being a target for villains a long time coming?
Bakugou suddenly returns to the notion that he’s not safe, even in a room by himself and protected on UA grounds. He’s not safe. Not here. There is no relief. Where is the sense of confidence and self-assurance that Bakugou carried around with him his whole life?
Disappeared in an act of weakness. Of course it’s his fault. The world has seen his weakness, and it’s just now revealing the clarity Bakugou couldn’t see for himself. He needs to stop this. The spiraling, the fear, the paranoia… he needs to ground himself. The thoughts don’t stop. They can’t all be true, and if they are, there has to be more he can’t see. More to this narrative that has been created of Bakugou’s life. Something he no longer has control over anymore.
He lets off a few sparks from him palms, thinking it’s how he can get back to himself. His quirk doesn’t fail him, right? It’s something no one can ever take away from him. It’s strong and intimidating. But still, it wasn’t powerful enough to protect himself. Despite it, he was captured, we was weak, and Bakugou can’t comprehend anymore. He’s so tired. He is stronger than this, he has to be…
Almost instantly, something changes. A light breaking the darkness and only getting stronger. He feels this pull in his chest. The sobs begin to die down and the shaking is controllable. Bakugou needs to find strength, if it’s not from himself, then it has to be from the strongest person he knows.
As if on auto-pilot, he crosses his room with blurry vision and before Bakugou realizes what he’s doing, he is standing in front of Kirishima’s door. He reaches for the door handle and it opens. This is the easy part.
Reaching for Kirishima is easy, it’s natural and it’s right. It’s too much to think about right now, his mind is just easing away from spiraling. Maybe it’s a question for the morning, where daylight makes things clearer. Maybe it’s a question Kirishima answers for Bakugou.
Bakugou steps into the room and closes the door quietly behind him. Fuck dealing with this alone. Bakugou vaguely knows where the bed is and starts moving carefully towards it.
“Kirishima?” Bakugou’s voice doesn’t sound his own, it’s hoarse and distant, but he can’t care too much about that for now.
Kirishima lays on his back, wild red hair framing his head on the pillow, and he's lightly snoring. Of course he doesn’t hear Bakugou, as he sleeps like a rock. Bakugou tries one more time, leaning over and shaking Kirishima’s shoulder. He stirs a little and Bakugou decides that should be enough. He lifts the covers and slides in, remaining at the edge of the bed, turning on his side to look out. Kirishima has his back. Bakugou feels safe, even when Kirishima is all but dead to the world.
Kirishima’s presence is enough. It won’t chase the nightmares away, it won’t change his thoughts that are too dark to relive again. It won’t fix his weaknesses, but right now it’s ok. Kirishima won’t mind, it’s not like they haven’t shared a bed before. Bakugou closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, trying to get himself to relax.
To his relief, he feels the bed shift behind him and can hear the question on Kirishima’s lips before he even asks.
“hngh what? Bakugou what are—“
“I’m sleeping here tonight,” Bakugou pauses, suddenly unsure that maybe he did overstep “… is this ok?” Fuck. Bakugou’s voice cracks at the end and suddenly realizes he began to cry again. Maybe not crying, but just stupid tears leaking from his eyes.
The bed shifts again. Kirishima turns on his side, he doesn’t say anything, and Bakugou takes it as an ok. He closes his eyes and wills his tears to stop. He wants Kirishima to fall asleep, but at the same time not leave him awake.
A warm hand reaches out and hooks around Bakugou’s waist. He is being pulled towards a sturdy chest and lips ghosting the back of his neck.
“Anytime”
Bakugou relaxes. Kirishima’s hand is softly rubbing Bakugou’s chest, probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it. His tears begin to finally stop and “safe” becomes a reality again. Nothing can hurt him, because for the first time in what feels like years, he’s where he’s supposed to be. It’s stupid and he can’t rationalize it. But it’s working.
He needs his mind to quiet, even with these good thoughts washing over the bad ones. The hand on his chest is steady and comforting. Bakugou feels Kirishima jerk slightly, as if trying to keep himself from falling asleep. He’s probably ready to give Bakugou anything he needs, even if it means Kirishima staying awake. Fuck, this boy is too good and he holds the burden of dealing with the pieces Bakugou has broken into.
Right now, in the dark with the person he trusts the most, it’s ok to push a little. Bakugou is selfish after all. Bakugou reaches for Kirishima’s hand on his chest and holds it. He interlaces their fingers, finally grounded. These hands are soft. The last thing Bakugou feels before drifting to sleep is a reassuring grip on his hand, meaning “It’s ok.”
He may have dreamt it, but whether it was real or his own mind, he feels a light press of lips to his neck and words like a blanket “You’re safe, I’m here.”
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The light barely makes it over the horizon when Bakugou wakes up and it doesn’t make sense. He is soft and warm… and that is NOT something that happens to Bakugou. But the world is steady. A steady pulse where Bakugou’s nose presses up against. A rhythm of a hand gently rubbing circles on his back. The rise and fall of a chest beneath him. A feather light touch moving through his hair. Warm breath on his temple.
Bakugou doesn’t want to move, not yet anyways. Maybe he shouldn’t question it. The sun has risen too early this morning.
After his initial nightmare that brought him to seek out the one place he feels safe, Bakugou slept in peace. Nothing happened. No villains, no sludge, no darkness… no tears.
Bakugou catches a hitch in the rhythm of Kirishima’s chest moving up and down. The hand in his hair lifts away and he feels the throat he’s tucked against choke.
Kirishima is crying. Does he know that Bakugou is a witness to this? Should he just leave? Is he upset that Bakugou is here? Does he hate him? Is it ok to pretend to remain asleep? Bakugou doesn’t know. Maybe he should go back to his room.
Bakugou shifts slightly and the arm around his back tenses and holds him tighter. Definitely not going back to his room. And fuck, Kirishima needs to stop crying, because Bakugou doesn’t know how to deal with it. Useless.
Bakugou lifts his head to meet the tear stained face of his best friend.
“Hey. You’re awake,” Kirishima chokes and stutters, trying to get himself to calm down. He’s quick to wipe away his tears. Pretending he isn’t crying, isn’t upset… trying to will himself to be the one still holding them together. Bakugou doesn’t want him to do that. He should cry, he should be upset. Bakugou did this to him. Bakugou was the one kidnapped. He was the one who the villains wanted. He needed rescuing and put Kirishima in danger. Bakugou is not strong enough to have prevented hurting Kirishima. He wasn’t even strong enough to not crawl to him in the middle of the night, demanding more from him. It isn’t fair.
Kirishima moves to sit up and Bakugou can’t help but push him back down. He hides his face and squeezes his eyes shut. Just a little bit longer. Let him stay just a little more, take the little comfort that is left. After all, Bakugou is selfish.
“Fuck no I’m not awake. It’s fuck o’ clock in the morning.” His voice is harsh and it’s all Bakugou can think to say to stay here. For Kirishima not to get up and leave him. For Bakugou not being able to face being told to get the fuck out.
Kirishima just answers quietly, “I don’t know if I could go back to sleep,” he pauses as Bakugou’s breath hitches, betraying him, “but if you want to that’s ok, I’ll wake you when we need to get up for classes.”
Bakugou wants to be satisfied with that. He wants to stay here with Kirishima and not feel difficult emotions. To not feel hurt, scared, and alone.
But Kirishima is crying. Bakugou put those tears there and he doesn’t know how to fix this. So he just lays there, hating himself and hating that he feels so useless.
It’s Kirishima who speaks. “I’m sorry Bakugou, I didn’t mean to do it.” What the fuck? Bakugou wants to scream. What the fuck is he apologizing for? But before he can speak, Kirishima continues.
“I just keep having these nightmares every night since…” Kirishima hiccups and wipes his eyes, “… since coming home from camp, without you. I wake up panicking, looking for you. I don’t know but I just grabbed you last night and couldn’t let go, to make sure you really were here and stayed… I’m sorry. Just… give me a few minutes before letting go.”
What. Bakugou lifts his head again and looks at Kirishima, whose eyes are looking at the ceiling, avoiding Bakugou’s gaze.
“The fuck are you talking about??” There’s a touch of panic in Bakugou’s voice, “I came HERE, what the hell? You’re sorry? For WHAT?” Bakugou didn’t want to get loud. He didn’t want to spiral.
Kirishima takes a deep, shaky breath. “I… I wanted to be with you. During camp, I couldn’t go to you. If I… fuck… if I wasn’t so stupid and failed, I could have been there and maybe…” Kirishima trails off and Bakugou knows what he meant. Maybe if he was by Bakugou’s side in the woods that night, that he could have protected him.
“Eijirou… it wouldn’t have made a difference,” he feels Kirishima’s body shakes with another sob. “Ei please…” Bakugou doesn’t know what he’s begging for, “please stop, I can’t.”
Kirishima’s eyes fly to him, “Katsuki I could have been there! You don’t KNOW that it wouldn’t have made a fucking difference. Maybe I… FUCK.” Tears don’t stop falling from his eyes.
Bakugou gives a sharp huff. “Ei stop. It doesn’t matter! I was going to get kidnapped, there was nothing… nothing couldn’t have stopped them. I wasn’t alone when they took me and it didn’t make a difference! Fucking STOP.”
“But..”
“NO! IT DOESN’T MATTER!” Bakugou makes himself lower his voice. “What matters is that you were there to reach me when I needed it the most, Eijirou. You came for me that night. You pulled me out, brought me back.”
“You probably could have escaped on your own though…”
“Fucking no—“
“You don’t KNOW that,” Kirishima throws back, “Maybe it really DOESN’T MATTER. Wouldn’t have made a DIFFERENCE.” Kirishima grits his teeth.
Bakugou can’t do this with him. Not right now. He can’t handle to feel anymore.
It’s so stupid to argue that they weren’t enough for each other.
Bakugou lifts a hand and brings it to Kirishima’s face. He tries to wipe tears, but instead rather aggressively rubs at his face, fighting them to stop.
This pulls a short, hollow laugh from Kirishima’s chest, “Hey you don’t have to push on my face so hard! They’re just tears, they’ll wipe away.” Kirishima’s smile he manages doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Eijirou” Bakugou doesn’t really know how to start. “Those days… being trapped and taunted and…” Bakugou is NOT about to cry, “…they were the worst fucking days of my life. The only thing good that happened in the past few days, actually fuck that, the past few MONTHS, has been you. Seeing you that night…” Shit.
Bakugou tucks his head under Kirishima’s chin again, he can’t look at him. “I saw you and I knew I was going to be safe.”
Suddenly, two solid arms are nearly squeezing the life out of him. Everything about being held so tight should be terrifying, it should shoot panic up his spine. Being caged in again. But there is no fear. Only relief and safety. A soft whisper of “Katsuki” and a gentle kiss to the top of his head. A tenderness Bakugou can barely handle, but does anyway.
“I would do it a million times over,” Kirishima starts rambling endlessly, “I would always come to you, I’ll be there I promise…”
At some point, all Bakugou can focus on is the vibrations of Kirishima’s voice through his chest, where he all but nuzzles his face against.
His attention is pulled back to comprehend the next few words.
“Midoriya said “it has to be you, Kirishima”, that you wouldn’t have let just anyone call to you and,” Kirishima gives a half laugh, “I don’t think that’s true though.”
“It’s true”
“But—“
“Eijirou, please just… shut up.” And he does. Kirishima swallows and breathes out. Bakugou knows he wants to say more, but he can’t deal with it right now. A hand lifts and moves through his hair again. Another hand draws circles on his back. It’s ok.
Bakugou wants to hate Deku for voicing any opinion about him, but he wasn’t wrong. Kirishima’s hand is the only one he would trust to take. Any other hand could betray him. They could hurt him or drag him down. Anyone else’s could let go, miss Bakugou’s reach, or not be strong enough to carry him across the sky.
But not Kirishima’s. His hands are powerful and steady, just like his resolve. His hands won’t ever let go.
But. Something does scare him and Bakugou hates himself for thinking about it. Kirishima holds the only way to truly break him and Bakugou is terrified.
Bakugou doesn’t want to voice the question he needs to ask. But he has to know what’s true and what’s not. Because Bakugou’s mind doesn’t know anymore.
“Eijirou, do you think it’s my fault I was kidnapped?” a sob rips through Bakugou’s chest. "Did I deserve it?”
“What…” Kirishima sits up quickly and pushes Bakugou away from him to hold at arm’s length, to look at him straight in the face. “WHAT THE FUCK? What are you talking about??? Why would--“
Kirishima suddenly stops and his eyes go wide.
Bakugou is shaking, all the blood drains from his face, and tears carve themselves into his skin as if they belong there and will reveal themselves to the world again. He doesn’t register trying to pull away and crawl back into himself. Nothing but fear plagues his mind. He doesn’t hear Kirishima talking frantically. He doesn’t register words. He’s afraid. So afraid that Kirishima, the person he loves the most, thinks he deserves what he went through.
If that’s true, then his nightmares are real. Who he fights against will win and he will fall. He falls and doesn’t try to stop it. He can’t breathe.
“KATSUKI! KATSUKI! LOOK AT ME!” Kirishima’s face twists in pain and fear, and Bakugou can never see it again.
Kirishima keeps trying to get him to come back. “fuck FUCK! Katsuki please. Shit. I should go get help, I don’t KNOW WHAT TO DO! Please please please…”
Bakugou wails at the thought that Kirishima might leave him. That someone else might see him, hurt him.
“Katsuki you NEVER deserved to get kidnapped, what the fuck.”
Kirishima gasps and takes the hands that begin to explode. Bakugou isn’t in his body anymore. He wants to stop but can’t. He deserves the hurt but Kirishima shouldn’t suffer putting him back together.
Bakugou is being pulled forward. Kirishima takes Bakugou’s dangerous hands and places them around his own hardened back. He wraps his arms around Bakugou and lifts him to sit on his lap. Bakugou feels his chest pushing against Kirishima’s, hyperventilating too fast. Focus. Focus on the breath that Kirishima is trying so hard to steady.
Bakugou is held tightly again, pressure on his the back of his head, placing him to look over Kirishima’s shoulder. He opens his eyes and looks down at his own hands. He sees through the tears. His is hitting Kirishima’s back explosion after explosion, and Bakugou is horrified. He can’t stop them. They can’t be his hands anymore.
“Katsuki please speak to me, say something, anything, please,”
“I can’t control my hands.” The voice isn’t his. He didn’t say them, but he knows they were voiced by the way he feels Kirishima tense at them.
“Ok. Ok Katsuki, it’s ok. You don’t need to fight, it’s just me, no one else is here.”
Bakugou knows that Kirishima is trying to hide his panic, but feeling Kirishima shake slightly brings Bakugou’s attention away from himself. He hates that this is what’s bringing him back slowly. He doesn’t know these feelings, but he needs to make Kirishima stop crying. He needs to stop hurting him.
“Katsuki, you did nothing wrong. You’re not weak. Please Katsuki, talk to me. Trust me.”
Fuck. Bakugou needs to speak, say anything. “Your hand…” Bakugou cries out again. “I would have never trusted anyone else.”
Kirishima is so relieved to hear him answer, “Good. Good Katsuki. Say you’re strong. Please, for me? Please say it?”
Bakugou shakes his head. He can’t say it.
“Please don’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving Katsuki”
“It’s my fault—“
Kirishima shakes him and cuts him off, “No! Fuck that. Don’t EVER say that again,” the anger lacing Kirishima’s words makes Bakugou uneasy, but it’s bringing him back, away from wherever he took himself.
“It wasn’t your fault, it’s not your fault. Villains go after the strong because they themselves are weak fuckers. It’s not you, please believe me Katsuki.”
Bakugou feels Kirishima’s chest expand against his and he realizes that he’s not breathing too fast anymore and the explosions have stopped. Instead, his hands hold a death grip to the back of Kirishima’s burnt shirt.
Bakugou gives a small “ok” and he knows the Kirishima doesn’t believe him.
But he pretends anyways, “Ok is good. You didn’t deserve your kidnapping and anyone who says so is wrong. That’s it Katsuki, relax, it’s ok, you’re ok. Breathe.”
Bakugou is breathing. He’s not suffocating like in his nightmares. There’s no villains, no sludge. Reality is that he breathes, he’s held, and he’s safe.
“You’re a hero and will always be.”
“Ok,” Bakugou lies.
“I’ll be at your side. I’m not leaving.”
Bakugou believes him, “I know.”
Bakugou removes his hands from Kirishima’s shirt and moves to sit up. Kirishima lets him. He looks down at his burning hands.
There’s something gentle against his face, brushing his cheeks. Oh. That’s how easy tears can be wiped away. They won’t leave traces of what happened and Kirishima will keep them secret.
Red eyes meet each other and hands move to touch one last time. Even through the pain, Kirishima smiles at him. Heroes smile through anything.
This was too much to deal within one cruel dawn. But even so, there is a lightness, a weight that has been lifted. Bakugou holds the hands that saved him.
They aren’t good at this whole comforting thing. They are aggressive, vulnerable, scared, and just…… maybe they’ll be better next time. They’ll learn to comfort without hurting. They’ll say the right things and touch the right places. But right now they’re safe. They have each other and are going to be ok.
The sun now rises too quickly and too bright, but the day ahead will be bearable. They untangle themselves from each other. Kirishima keeps his soft smile and lets their hands go, falling at their sides.