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“Kacchan!” The hysterical voice pierced Katsuki’s ears and his soul. God, he hated it. Hated that he couldn’t move, couldn’t respond, couldn’t take the edge and worry and pain out of it.
“Dek…ugh…ku…” He coughed, gravel in his throat, literal and figurative. Water. He needed…
“Kacchan!” Closer now, but not even close. Still too far to find him. Might as well be a mile away. Maybe he should just give in now to the pain and pressure, stay here crushed under the crumbling debris. That would be so easy and Katsuki was so tired. I always win, he thought to himself with a chortle. Somehow he found the energy to twist his face into a smirk. How naive.
He spat; blood and pebbles and maybe pieces of his teeth. He hadn’t been aiming anywhere and immediately he felt it all dribble down his chin. Disgusting! The strong iron and copper scent assaulting his nose. Just another small thing to add to his discomfort. It’s not that he wanted to give up, to stop fighting, but there was nothing left for him to do. If he attempted to blast his way out, he’d likely be buried further. A younger him would have balked at the idea (probably getting himself killed in the process), but this Katsuki had long since come to terms with reality. Sometimes, people, even heroes needed help. He needed help.
“There!” Uravity’s voice, high and calm. Level-headed.
“Where?”
“Isn’t that part of his gauntlet?”
“Part of his…Kacchan!!!”
He heard their footsteps fall away, towards the sighting of his broken costume piece. He knew where the gauntlet had busted and fallen and it wasn’t near where he was. Well, not near enough. Tears streamed down Katsuki’s face, unbidden. Tears of frustration, hurt, fear, sadness, all of it? He didn’t want to die like this. Didn’t want to die a martyr, not this early in his career and not alone under a heap of rubble, the last thing in his ears the sound of Izuku frantically calling out for him. This wasn’t peace. This wasn’t victory.
“Deku!” he called, but he could only eke out a whisper; what a cruel joke. He almost wanted to laugh. Maybe this shit was funny. Win to save. Save to win. Just some sentimental bullshit that would die with him. What a laugh. Katsuki definitely hadn’t won this one and Deku wasn’t saving him. This was what they called a lose lose situation. Lose. Lose. Loose. Loose. LOOSE! He felt some of the bricks and dirt and rocks loosening around him. Lifting. Uravity! So they had found him! A giddy smile spread across his face as a large amount of debris lifted off his legs and he rolled his body over with a groan. He lay on his back, arms spread wide, resembling the orange “X” patterned across his chest. This was all he could manage. He couldn’t stand on his own. His legs were probably broken. God, they throbbed; the relief of the removed weight only highlighted the sensation. But damn, if he wasn’t grateful for it.
“I see him!”
“Kacchan!” Deku called, moving towards him at lightning speed, but still careful not to break any of the ground further. He was so strong and graceful, it hurt Katsuki to look at him. He relished the relief he heard in Deku’s voice. Wanted to bottle it and save it. He felt Deku’s presence, smelled his unmistakable scent of almond shampoo mixed with sweat and blood and the musty smells of battle. He vaguely registered Deku’s gloved hands in his hair, the light kisses peppered on his filthy face, the bright green eyes spouting happy tears. He felt Uravity touch his torso. It was easy for Katsuki to recognize her touch; he could feel the concentration emanating through her hands, immediately accompanied by that dropping feeling in the pit of his stomach, as he lost contact with the ground and began to float. He knew his slight nausea was likely nothing compared to what she was feeling, though she’d gotten much more powerful than when they’d first met. He felt Deku and Uravity at his sides as they guided him towards the medical attention he desperately needed. And then he was out.
******
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” said Deku when Katsuki opened his eyes to find himself in the all-too-familiar setting of a hospital room. A little smile played on Deku’s lips, masking the seriousness of the situation. The white walls of the room were unbearably bright with the sunlight streaming in, but the warmth felt good against Katsuki’s skin. He grunted and moved to sit up a little further, Deku instinctively adjusting the pillow at his back.
“It’s been a while,” said Katsuki with his own wicked grin. He reached out a hand to grasp Deku’s, who understood the request without needing words. Deku took Katsuki’s hand in his and dusted easy kisses on the bruised and calloused knuckles.
“Yes, it has. At least last time it was me.”
“Stupid Deku. When will you ever learn to stop saying such stupid shit?” asked Katsuki, without any malice. He ruffled Deku’s curls with his free hand, ignoring the pain in his side as he strained to reach.
“I hate it when you get hurt,” said Deku, his eyes falling to his lap, guiltily.
“Yeah, well you think I like seeing you this way?” He gestured to the hospital bed and the I.V. hooked to his arm. “It’s no picnic either way. We’re both too protective for our own good, but I don’t see that changing anytime soon, since we’re also both…”
“Stubborn as hell,” they said together.
It was almost a practiced speech by now, tossed between them as they each took turns bearing the brunt of the injuries after any given battle. It felt like a ritual, to say the words and mean them, but to also know they wouldn’t change a damn thing. Deku nodded. They both knew it was part of the job of being a hero. And they both knew that being together raised their personal stakes. Neither of them liked to lose, but what they feared most of all was losing each other. It had taken so many years for them to admit it, to get to this point in their relationship. And there was no turning back now. They were partners in all things, first and foremost. Heroes second. A knock came at the door.
“Come in,” said Katsuki. Deku handed him the glass of water from his bedside, helping him with the straw. Visitors usually meant a lot of talking and talking was hard on an already torn up throat.
“Katsuki, you brat, thank god you’re alive!” Mitsuki Bakugou entered forcefully and immediately enveloped her son in a strong, yet gentle hug. Katsuki didn’t refuse or protest or make any snide comments. He’d long since given up his ‘too cool to care’ act. The people who loved him, he let them in. He didn’t always like them making a fuss, but he understood it was more for their own sakes than his. His father trailed behind, cheeks flushed. He held a bouquet of roses and a stack of cards in his hands.
“Hi, son. The flowers are from us, the cards are from the old neighborhood.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Katsuki said. Mitsuki kissed his head, breathing in the scent of him, and then she moved aside to let her husband have his turn.
“Izuku…thank god,” she said, wrapping her arms around Deku. He tried to stand to greet her properly, but she put a soft hand on his shoulder. She kissed his head too and pressed his cheek to her side like she’d done so many times for both of them when they were little kids. “Thank god you were there.”
“Uravity saved him, really,” said Deku. Mitsuki swatted him lightly on the head, not willing to accept his humility. She knew he’d saved her son on more than one occasion and in many different ways; saved him by being with him.
“It was a team effort,” said Katsuki, eyes boring into Deku, daring him to argue. Deku took the hint.
“I’m glad I was there,” Deku said. That seemed to mollify Mitsuki and Katsuki.
“Well, I’m happy to bring you any food you want from the outside, Katsuki, within reason, and so long as the doctors say it’s alright. Izuku, are you hungry dear?” Deku shook his head.
“What? How long have you been here, nerd?” Katsuki asked.
“Just a few hours,” he answered with a shrug and a yawn. “I’m really not hungry.” It was hard to have an appetite after seeing Kacchan so beaten up.
“At least let me bring you some broth,” said Mitsuki. She’d already grabbed the flowers and cards from her husband and placed them on the table. “Masaru, go see if they have a vase for these. Now, what’s to eat around here? We’ve been here so many damn times, you’d think we’d have all the menus memorized…” She searched her phone for restaurants with Katsuki’s favorites. Blithely following her instructions, Masaru ducked out of the room to find a vase. This was part of the ritual too. Family and friends taking over, letting them feel like kids again. At this stage in life, they were beyond fighting against it. After saving the city, it felt good to have others taking care of them for a change. They exchanged a small smile that somehow contained everything they felt for each other and for a few moments, Katsuki forgot the pain in his body, replaced by utter contentment radiating from the core of his being. Win to save. Save to win. This is what they did over and over again.
******
“Go home and shower first, you reek,” said Katsuki. Deku had insisted on staying at the hospital with him overnight; he didn’t like sleeping in their apartment alone, not after a battle. The nightmares always snaked their way in easier that way. Katsuki understood all too well.
Deku packed a few things from home into a duffel bag, faded and worn from overuse, despite it not being an old thing. It was their bag; unofficial, fan-made, ‘Wonder Duo’ merchandise. Kaminari had given it to them as a gag gift to the annoyance of Katsuki and the delight of Deku. It was a silvery gray canvas. On one side 'Deku X Kacchan' was printed in bold black letters, green weaving through Deku’s name, orange through Kacchan,’s. the ‘X’ was also orange, to elicit the design on Katsuki’s costume. The other side read ‘Peace X Victory,’ but with the colors reversed. Deku loved it.
A couple of shirts and boxers and pairs of sweatpants. Deodorant. Toothbrush. A book for him, Several for Katsuki. Phone charger. Notebook. Headphones. Snacks. He packed methodically. He knew what they needed, even if he didn’t know the duration of the stay. He hoped it wouldn’t be for long. The healers and doctors had already sped up Katsuki’s recovery considerably. Honestly, Deku was never more grateful for Quirks than when someone he cared about was injured, even if they’d caused the damage in the first place. He tried not to think about it too hard. He was just thankful that some people could and did heal.
Deku slept in the chair by Katsuki’s bedside, curled up and squished, no way was he comfortable. Technically this was outside of visiting hours, but such restrictions seemed to bend, no problem, for pro heroes.
******
By the time Katsuki was used to the crutches, it was time to give them up and walk on his own again. He’d been home for two weeks and he was finally sufficiently annoyed with having Deku waiting on him hand and foot.
“Please don’t make me another meal, Deku. I miss doing it. Besides, you’re a truly terrible cook.”
“Take the assignment, they can use you on that case.”
“I know you want to get out of the house, too.”
“I’m fine here by myself.”
“I like my alone time, actually.”
“If I need anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Izuku. I Love you.”
Katsuki sat alone on the couch, windows open, cool air streaming in, along with the sounds of the city. He’d been able to stretch in the morning, the feeling in his muscles slowly returning to the good kind of soreness. His belly was full of his own cooking. He had a cup of tea at his side and a comic book in hand. And inside the pages was an advertisement. For them. A full-color spread. 'Deku X Kacchan: Pro Hero Team.' Side by side they stood, in a power stance. How long had they stood in those positions for that damn photoshoot? How many action shots did they simulate? How many different poses? An eager Deku, a begrudging Kacchan. Still, the image made him smile. And as he turned the page his phone buzzed. A text from Deku.
‘Hey. Just finished work. All good. On my way home. Love you.’
‘Love you too. See you soon.’
Win to save. Save to win. Live to fight another day. This was peace. This was victory.