Chapter Text
Katsuki groaned, then hissed through his teeth when trying to cover his eyes with his arm sent bolts of agony shooting down his entire side. “What the fuck?” he rasped, his throat feeling worse than the time he got sick on the road and spent most of a day hurling his guts out. Actually, his whole body felt like shit. What had happened to him?
“You’re awake!” Raccoon Eyes exclaimed, and Katsuki was surprised not to feel hands grabbing at his arms.
“What happened?” he asked, and felt the opening of a waterskin press against his lips.
“Drink first.” she ordered, and Katsuki grunted but obeyed. “You’ve been out for a few days now.” Raccoon Eyes explained as she let water trickle into his mouth. “Shuzenji’s been running herself ragged dealing with you and everyone else who got hurt during the raid.”
The raid... Fuck! Katsuki jackknifed upright despite the screaming agony in his core at the abrupt motion. “Where’s Kirishima.” he demanded, eyes aching as he met the pink-skinned scout’s dark ones. “How bad was he hurt?”
“He, uh...” Raccoon Eyes looked aside, fingers curling and uncurling around the neck of the waterskin. “I don’t think he was hurt?”
“Don’t think?” Katsuki hissed, resolutely ignoring the stabbing pains in his middle and every limb.
“Bakugo!” the old hag snapped, and Katsuki hissed as wrinkly little hands pushed him down onto his back. “You’re nowhere near well enough to be up yet.”
“Fuck you, hag.” he spat then gritted his teeth around a scream as a gnarled finger dug directly into one of the stabbing pains.
“Are you going to try to get up out of bed?” she asked, and Katsuki snarled at her.
“Where’s Kirishima?” he grabbed the healer by the wrist, and her thin mouth twisted in a frown.
“I’m putting you under for your own good.” she declared, and Katsuki’s eyes snapped to the scout on the other side of his palette in the medical tent.
“Where’s my partner?” he asked, voice cracking in his dry throat. Kirishima was never far from him anymore, at his bedside when he woke up in the medical tent after a raid or on the palette next to him if he’d been hurt as well. The rare time he woke up while his partner was out, whoever was in the tent with him fetched Kirishima as soon as they could. His heart raced in his chest as Raccoon Eyes averted her gaze without answering, ribs stinging with every agonized thump against the inside of them.
“Sleep.” the old hag commanded, magic washing over him, and Katsuki felt his eyelids drooping against his will, his muscles going lax, his heart slowing.
“Kiri-”
His eyes fell shut, and everything faded to black.
---
The next time he woke, Katsuki’s wrists were bound. His arms hurt too much to put any significant pressure on the cuffs tying his wrists to the palette beneath him, and when he tried to ignite them his magic wouldn’t come. Kirishima was still nowhere to be seen, and that more than the cuffs had his heart battering the inside of his ribs, his stomach trying to crawl up his throat despite the ball of dread sitting low and heavy in it.
“You’re awake.”
Katsuki’s head snapped around to see Aizawa sitting off to the side of his bed, and bit back the snarl that wanted to rip free of his throat. Manners, Aizawa would only cooperate if he asked nicely. “Where’s Kirishima?” he demanded, gritting his teeth against a scream as he sat up and his internal organs reminded him quite insistently that they were still very tender. Was it possible to bruise something inside? Whatever, Kirishima had fought through worse, he could handle this.
“Gone.”
Katsuki froze, heartbeat thundering in his ears louder than any of the background noises of Shuzenji’s tent or the camp beyond. “Gone?” he croaked, stomach turning with something worse than nausea. “He can’t be gone, he’s-” he tried to move his arms, and cut himself off with a hiss of pain when the jarring stop sent shockwaves up into his shoulders.
“The two of you had a fight before the raid, correct?”
“The fuck does that have to do with anything?” Katsuki snapped, bracing himself and pulling harder at the cuffs. This had to be some cruel new punishment for infighting, separation and misinformation. Kirishima couldn’t be-
“Please, Bakugo, just answer the question.”
“Fuck.” he spat, twisting in place to try to work the cuffs over to a weaker bit of the palette. “Yeah, we argued. He was being stupid again, so I told him to knock it off.” and now Kirishima was certainly swamped with those same thoughts again, restrained and distrusted, and the thought made the heavy weight in his gut turn cold. If anyone had so much as laid a hand on his partner, if they’d forced him to relive that nightmare of a first raid, he was going to burn their tent to ashes. Possibly with them inside. “Where is he?” he demanded, hoping beyond hope that Aizawa would cut out this stupid charade and just let him see his partner again.
“We don’t know.”
“What.” he snarled, though Aizawa looked thoroughly nonplussed. Possibly because his throat was still dry as all hell and his snarl hadn’t come out quite right.
“After attacking you, Kirishima went on a rampage. He killed or injured a good third of the people there, both our warriors and the villagers, then fled into the night.”
“All the more reason to let me see him.” Katsuki insisted. “He’s going to be thinking dumb shit about himself again, I need to make sure he stops.”
“Bakugo, what part of gone did you not understand?” Aizawa frowned at him. Katsuki growled. He didn’t need any fragging pity.
“The part where my partner stepped on me by accident and none of you fuckwads thought to make sure he knows it’s not his fault.” he spat, left side of the palette cracking loudly. The cold weight in his gut was gone now, replaced with burning anger. This, he knew what to do with. “Where is my partner?!” he pulled hard on his left cuff, and the wood it was wrapped around snapped just enough for him to free his hand. Injuries or no, he was getting a damn straight answer.
“He’s not your partner anymore.”
Bakugo’s fingers stilled on the buckle for his other cuff, everything seemed to grind to a halt as he looked up at Aizawa. “What?” he tried to snarl, but the word came out small, helpless, weak.
“Kirishima may not have injured you deliberately-”
“He didn’t.”
“However, every injury after that was entirely avoidable.” Aizawa folded his hands together, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Kirishima Eijirou has been exiled from the tribe for mass assault and one charge of manslaughter. You are no longer bound to him.”
“Like fuck I’ll accept that.” Katsuki spat, finally getting the other cuff off. “Kirishima’s my partner whether you assholes like him or not.”
“Bakugo-”
“No.” Katsuki’s everything hurt as he rose to his feet, head spinning, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him. Kirishima had to be hurting so much worse right now, without anyone to remind him those thoughts the assholes who captured him put in his head were stupid and wrong. “Which way did he go?”
“Nobody took any note other than that it was away from camp.” Aizawa rose to his feet, and Katsuki finally managed a proper growl as he had to look up at his teacher of the past four years. “I vouched for you to remain instead of being exiled with Kirishima.”
“You shouldn’t’ve bothered.” Katsuki snapped, every muscle in his legs aching and every bone stinging as he strode from the tent. “We’re a package deal.”
“Bakugo, think this through.” Aizawa said, his voice level as ever. “You have friends here, a future as one of the strongest warriors in the tribe, if not the strongest.”
“What part of package deal do you not get?” he snapped, turning to face Aizawa. “He goes, I go. You want me back? You revoke his exile and take in both of us.”
“If you leave, I can’t guarantee you’ll have a home to come back to.”
Katsuki didn’t dignify that with a response.