Chapter Text
Katsuki Bakugou squirmed in an uncomfortable chair as he scrolled through his twitter feed. The phone screen had been dimmed as low as possible to contrast the bright aurora of the halogen rays beating down on his skin. The mindless scrolling through twitter helped dull the noise of the busy waiting room and keep his breathing even. He hated hospital waiting rooms almost more than anything. There was something about the tacky upholstery of the seats and the clinical atmosphere that just gave an overwhelming sense of dread. And there was no way to discern the time of day due to the curtained windows. If he didn’t know any better, he would have guessed it was the middle of the afternoon, not eleven at night.
Only about ten minutes had passed since the emergency room staff had told him that they were transferring Izuku to oncology. He had already watched them intubate Izuku and stabilize his heart. It was nothing new, but it always left Bakugou with a knot in his stomach the size of a watermelon. When the doctor on call had told him they were admitting Izuku, he felt his heart plummet into his guts as he nodded in understanding. He wasn’t shocked, just disappointed. He was really hoping that this night wouldn’t end with a hospital stay, despite the overwhelming inevitability of the situation. He hated being here, but he knew Izuku hated it here even more.
Bakugou wiped the sweat from his palms onto his jeans. He had never kept track of how long it typically took to transfer departments, but it was starting to feel a lot longer than usual. He knew someone would come find him when Izuku was ready. He was sure of it. And he was sure that if he sat here any longer, he would explode.
He rose from his seat with an obnoxious squeak of the plastic chair legs. The ache behind his eyes roared as the blood circulated faster through his veins. A groan slipped from his lips as Bakugou was sorely reminded how little sleep he got in the past 24 hours and how little caffeine he consumed to compensate. His feet made the executive decision to begin the journey to the nearest coffee machine and his brain made no attempt to argue. The tips of his calloused fingers slid his phone into his back right pocket as his eyes darted around the room to find the arrow that pointed toward the vending machines.
The faint scent of cheap, watered down coffee coaxed him out of the waiting room, around the corner, and down another hallway. The bleach-white linoleum floors and cream colored walls made the blond hair on the back of his neck jolt up. He’d rather be stuck in a poorly produced funhouse than walking around the halls of the hospital. The overpowering and yet indescribable scent of “hospital” that clung to his clothes was like a demon he couldn’t quite exorcise. His best friend was getting poked and prodded, scanned and surveyed, as the emergency staff tried to figure out what was wrong with his messed up body this time. The atmosphere of the hospital was simply icing on their depressing cake of life so far.
Bakugou’s eyes locked onto the brown and silver machine he so vigorously hated and yet so desperately needed. His brow furrowed at the lack of options before he slid just enough change into the mouth of the metal beast and pressed the only option: a small black coffee. He would have pressed ‘large’ in a heartbeat, but the beast taunted him. The purr of the parts warming up rang through his ears and he watched the newly appeared cup fill with the highly anticipated drink. As soon as the machine hummed to a stop, Bakugou lifted the cup to his lips and chugged it like his life depended on it. It didn’t of course, but it definitely helped prevent the bags under his eyes from growing any larger ― if that was even possible.
He tossed the cup into the recycling bin without a second glance and made his way back to the land of hospital limbo. As he stepped back in the waiting room, his hatred for the place grew stronger.
At the nurse’s counter stood a young woman, barely five and a half feet tall with silky brunette hair tied into a messy bun. The cropped, pink and white tie-dye sweatshirt was extremely deceiving, as it hid all of the curves he could never forget she had. The black leggings she wore with it were no surprise at all, either. It was like looking four years into the past to the last time he’d seen her.
Even if he hadn’t recognized her appearance, he couldn’t have missed the way his skin reacted to the familiar melody of her voice as she spoke. Bakugou clenched his teeth and suppressed every insult he could think of as he heard Izuku’s name roll off her tongue.
“What are you doing here?” he groaned toward the young woman as he leaned up against the nurse’s station. “Is this woman bothering you, Chiyo?” He maintained eye contact with the older nurse, motioning toward the shorter brunette girl she’d been talking to.
Chiyo’s face was sprinkled with wrinkles that dared to give away her age. Her hair was a silvery grey with only a few strands of black peppered in. The corners of her lips creased at the edges as she grinned at Bakugou with a squint in her eye. Her hand immediately grasped the clipboard she was holding and swung it into Bakugou’s shoulder. His body reacted dramatically, stepping backwards and raising a hand to the spot the plastic managed to smack him.
“Ow!” he whined. It may have not hurt his body, but his ego was definitely bruised.
“Play nice!” Chiyo scolded. “I don’t want to have to kick you out for the night.”
Bakugou raised his hands in defeat. “I’ll be good. I’ll be good. As long as it-” He pointed at the young woman. “-behaves as well.”
The brunette rolled her eyes furiously. “I thought they had a rule against letting wild animals roam the hospital.”
“Oh, and like they’d let bitches just roam free too?” The words left his mouth faster than his brain could keep up. It took incredible self control not to look visibly impressed by his own comeback. And even more to prevent himself from smiling like an idiot at how red she turned.
Ochako Uraraka was no stranger to him. In fact, she was the complete opposite. Four years ago, he would have said she knew him better than anyone else. But now, even just the sight of her felt like walking into the final circle of hell. Izuku would say he was just being dramatic, and he was usually right, but Izuku never had to confront someone who took his heart, chewed it up, and spit it back out like bad sushi. Bakugou absolutely hated her guts, and that was the nicest way he could put it.
“Well, I’m pretty sure dicks aren’t allowed to be out here either.” She snapped back at him like a piranha. She could only have learned that from him, and he hated that he felt some semblance of pride.
“You used to like that about me, Cheeks .” He made sure to emphasize the nickname he’d first given her when they’d met ― the nickname she hated more than losing a round of Mario Kart. He watched with unbridled satisfaction as her face burned as pink as her sweatshirt.
Chiyo cleared her throat and the two of them broke their stare. “Are you two done?” They exchanged one more glare before turning their bodies away from each other. “Thank you. We’re still getting Mr. Midoriya situated. He’s conscious now and his breathing has stabled considerably, so we’re going to remove the breathing tube very soon. We’ll come get you both when the room is ready.” The old nurse pointed back towards the rows of chairs behind them before disappearing into the depths of the hospital.
Bakugou watched Uraraka from the corner of his eye as she plopped herself down on the closest chair available. And like the asshole he was, he sat down in the chair across from hers. He noticed a small frown form on her lips as she stole a glance at her phone before hiding it back into her bag.
She sat with her eyes closed for a while. It was easy to notice the way her breathing slowed down into deep, even breaths. He’d never admit it to anyone, but watching her had been the only time that night where he felt his heart rate enter normal limits. He decided to follow suit, closing his own eyes and giving his brain a rest.
Zzzt. Zzzt. Zzzt.
The sound of a phone vibrating jerked him awake. As if nails were scratching on a chalkboard, Uraraka’s phone rattled against the contents of her bag. Bakugou begrudgingly returned to the land of the conscious and his sleep-deprived migraine hit him with full force. He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath in a pitiful attempt to subdue the pain. Goodbye to the one ounce of calm he felt around her.
The sound of her phone once again filled the room and Bakugou shot her the dirtiest look he could manage. “Are you gonna get that?” Bakugou pointed to her bag with an arched brow.
“Not tonight,” she sighed.
“Wow, I’m glad to know you didn’t just ignore my phone calls. Is this something you do to everyone, or just the people who you pretend to care about?”
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to shut up and mind your own business?” She scoffed.
“The fact that your phone keeps going off and annoying the shit out of everyone here kinda makes it my business.”
Uraraka glared at him with eyes like dark espresso. “As if I’d let you have the pleasure of being involved in anything regarding my life anymore.”
“ Pleasure ? You’ve never been funnier, Cheeks,” he said dryly. “Now, please get off the stage. It’s time for you to go home.”
“Oh please, Bakugou. You have to remember that some people are capable of having more than one friend in their life. I’m not here for your pathetic ass to shit on me all night. I’m here for Izuku because he’s sick and I felt bad that he’d be alone with you.”
His top lip twitched as he sneered. “How the hell did you find out, anyway? Nobody even called you!”
In the midst of their admittedly childish argument, neither of them noticed Chiyo's approach. She cleared her throat, choosing not to disguise her disappointment and annoyance. Uraraka immediately stood up and bowed in apology. Bakugou simply stood up and avoided eye contact. “If you two are finished making every person in a five mile radius of this hospital uncomfortable, then I’d be more than happy to take you to see Mr. Midoriya.”
Uraraka nodded enough for the two of them, so Chiyo silently led them past the nurses’ station and towards the patient rooms. Most rooms appeared to be empty, with staff changing sheets and preparing for the next person to come and go, or come and die. He hated the way darkness had tainted even such minor thoughts like people changing sheets. He had spent over ten years fighting against the poison of pessimism. He could easily push the thoughts away now, back down into the abyss of his consciousness, but the aftereffects still lingered.
He focused his attention on Uraraka ahead of him. It was impressive how she looked almost identical to four years ago, and yet behaved so differently. He couldn’t remember her raising her voice once, especially not in public. She had been such a ray of sunshine. And he fucking ruined her. Or, more like, they ruined each other.
“Room 108 is Midoriya. If you need anything at all, feel free to come and find someone at the desk or press his nurse’s button.” Chiyo bowed her head and excused herself, letting the odd duo open the door themselves.
Uraraka twisted the handle quickly and pushed the door open. Her shrill cry filled the air. “Izuku! How do you feel?” She rushed toward him immediately, leaving Bakugou with the chore of closing the door behind them.
Izuku’s teal hair glowed under the blinding lights of the hospital room. It was shorter than Izuku liked. Well, it was always too short for Izkuku’s liking. If he had the choice, he’d almost certainly grow it out long enough to put in a bun, maybe even long enough to braid. When Izuku had chemotherapy, the hardest part for him to accept wasn’t that they were going to inject poison into his body. No, the hardest thing for Izuku to accept was that he was going to lose his hair. And, like the best friend Bakugou was, he agreed to shave his head too. Uraraka had been there. She was the one with the electric razor.
Since Izuku was diagnosed with brain cancer at age 10, he had five major surgeries and at least a dozen minor surgeries. Izuku had only agreed to chemotherapy once, however. It was during the summer break of their freshman year at university. He was healthier then and the oncology department had thought it would be a better option than cutting his skull open again.It turned out that the adverse reactions they warned him about were ten times as worse. After that, he only agreed to surgery. Izuku Midoriya was basically the biggest badass Bakugou knew.
Rather than meeting their appearance with a look of pure joy, Izuku shot them both with a glare that stopped Uraraka in her tracks. “I heard you’ve been disrupting the peace,” he scolded them both.
Neither Bakguou nor Uraraka spoke. They couldn’t deny it. And they wouldn’t apologize because it meant regretting their behavior, which he definitely didn’t. Uraraka probably felt bad for embarrassing Izuku or annoying the staff, but she certainly didn’t regret anything she said to him. Bakugou only responded to Izuku’s claim with a shrug and a tilt of his head toward Uraraka.
“We’ll try to behave ourselves,” Uraraka promised. She turned toward Bakugou with an intense stare. “Won’t we, Bakugou?”
“I don’t expect you to be here long enough for it to make a difference. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Uraraka huffed and crossed her arms. “As if I’d give you the pleasure of my absence. I’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future. You’re welcome to leave if you’d prefer.”
“You two are exhausting together, you know that right?” Izuku groaned as he laid back down and closed his eyes.
“Don’t blame me! It’s not like we even called her. She just showed up on her own accord. I don’t even know how she fucking found out!”
“I’m glad you’d willingly withhold the fact that one of my best friends was in the hospital again because he was coughing up blood ,” she spat at Bakugou while taking a seat on the corner of Izuku’s bed. “But I’m here because the hospital called me.”
“Why would the hospital call you? It’s not like you’re-” Bakugou paused mid sentence as all the information fell into place. He turned to Izuku who was intentionally facing away from him. “ She’s your goddamn emergency contact?!” He could feel the heat of his anger radiating off of his face.
Izuku tucked his bottom lip between his teeth ― his damn guilty face. Bakugou burned his glare into Izuku until the nerd turned toward him. “I may have added her as my emergency contact during university. And this may be the first time that she wasn’t with us when I was admitted.”
“Son of a bitch,” Bakugou mumbled to himself, sitting down in a visitor’s chair with a groan. “My ex-girlfriend is your emergency contact. Great! That’s just great.”
Uraraka smirked from across the room. “I’m pleased to know I have this powerful of an effect on you still.”
“I’d be pleased if you shut the fuck up,” he snapped back at her.
“I’d be pleased if you guys could stop arguing for like thirty seconds and let me slowly die in peace!”
The mention of dying always managed to silence the room. Izuku knew he was one of the few people in the world who could make Bakugou shut his mouth, and the only person who could make Bakugou feel anything even remotely close to guilt. He had driven his best friend to the damn emergency room because he was actively coughing up blood , and here he was pointlessly arguing with his ex-girlfriend just for the sake of arguing.
Uraraka mumbled an apology, scooting closer to give Izuku a hug. “I’ve got some stuff in my car I need to grab. I’ll be back soon.” She moved toward the exit before turning back toward Bakugou. “Try not to miss me while I’m gone.”
With Izuku’s eyes staring into his soul, Bakugou stuck his tongue out as she slammed the door. Somehow, he managed to refrain from all two hundred and fifty insults that came to mind as she left.
The moment the door clicked shut, Izuku flashed Bakugou the biggest smile of his life. “You’re still into her.”
“I am not!”
“So quick to deny it,” Izuku retorted, shaking his head in disbelief.
He cringed at the thought of being in a relationship with Uraraka again. He’d rather cut off his own foot and shove it up his ass than be with her again. Though, he knew better than to say that out loud. “You honestly think I’d submit to being with her ever again?”
He had spoken loud enough that he didn’t hear the door handle turn.
A new voice answered his rhetorical question. “The answer is obvious, isn’t it?”
Bakugou turned to find his past university resident assistant, Momo Yaoyorozu. She looked the same as he’d last seen her, at their college graduation nearly three years ago. Her onyx hair was still impossibly long and pulled back into a tight ponytail. The only difference was the substitution of maroon-colored scrubs rather than her typical red turtleneck sweater and bell bottom jeans.
“Yaoyorozu?!” Izuku yelled. “Momo Yaoyorozu?”
“Hey there, fighter,” Yaoyorozu kindly greeted back. “I was just finishing up with my rounds when I saw your name added to the patient board. I thought I’d stop by.”
“When did you start working here?” Izuku asked as she pulled the remaining visitor chair up towards Izuku’s bedside.
“I was offered a job in the pediatric wing when I graduated from nursing school. That was about a year or so ago. I was transferred to oncology only a few months ago. I was kind of hoping not to run into you again. Not under these circumstances, anyway.”
Izuku did what he always did when his cancer was mentioned: shrug like it was no big deal. “At least this time I was only coughing up blood instead of seizing again. That’s gotta be some form of an improvement, right?”
Yaoyorozu shook her head in disbelief. “You’re just as optimistic as ever, aren’t you Midoriya?” Izuku grinned wide. “If only Bakugou learned a thing or two from you.”
Izuku laughed at the idea. “The world wouldn’t be able to handle two incredibly good looking men who were also kind, funny, smart, and caring.”
“The world can barely handle one,” Bakugou mused under his breath. Yaoyorozu turned to Bakugou with the widest eyes possible, but Izuku responded with an obnoxious cackle. Izuku was always advocating for humor and jokes relating to his condition, and Bakugou only sometimes indulged him.
“It’s my handicap,” Izuku said casually. “The gods above had to nerf me somehow. At least they gave me cancer instead of something like Katsuki’s personality.”
That comment elicited a laugh from Yaoyorozu, which was not impossible but very rare. Izuku definitely had the power to bring out the joy in other people. Even though the joke was very much at his expense, it was hard for Bakugou to feel upset about it. Almost.
“Quit actin’ like everyone hates me!” Bakugou growled with a glare. “My relationship count is double yours.”
“Katsuki, it’s not hard to double zero,” Izuku hissed back. “And besides, your grand total of one relationship isn’t that impressive. Especially since she’s still my friend and not yours.” They held eye contact, waiting for someone to cave and admit defeat. This wasn’t uncommon for them to go back and forth trying to one up the other. Usually it ended with a stalemate. Bakugou usually stayed away from the whole cancer topic, and Izuku would normally stay out of the whole horrible university relationship topic. Usually..
“Oh, and,” Izuku continued. “If the spinal surgery hadn’t paralyzed me from the waist down then I would have definitely had way more-”
“ Okay ,” Yaoyorozu interrupted. “I’m glad to see you two haven’t really changed all that much.” She was making a poor attempt at hiding a smile by sucking in her lips. Her face had started to redden. “I have to get going, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you later.”
She politely excused herself and disappeared into the hallway, leaving the door cracked open just a smidge. Bakugou moved himself closer to his friend, taking the seat that his old RA left. They sat in silence for a while, not uncomfortably. They sat in silence like best friends did when they were on their phones sending dumb videos to each other.
Bakugou was the first to speak again. “I can’t believe you compared having cancer to my personality.” He would have smacked Izuku with a chair cushion if his friend didn’t have ten billion wires coming out of him. He has tried his best to steer clear of Izuku’s whole hospital bed since the incident two years ago when Bakugou accidently sat on Izuku’s catheter tube and successfully tugged it out.
Izuku refused to make eye contact as he reached for the television remote. “What?” he said with deceiving innocence. “Cancer isn’t that bad. You’re reading too far into this.” Bakugou could only huff in defeat. Bakugou knew that he himself was a stubborn asshole, but Izuku’s stubbornness could be on a whole other level depending on the day.
Uraraka had made her way back into the room about fifteen minutes later with a backpack and her laptop. “I don’t even remember what I brought,” she mumbled as she set her bag down next to Izuku’s bed. “I just grabbed everything around me and dumped it into this bag and left. I don’t even think I brought my toothbrush.”
Bakugou’s mouth opened before he could even stop himself. “Why the hell would you need a toothbrush?” Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to , his mind scolded him.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize neanderthals like yourself forgo oral hygiene in favor of a more natural odor,” she responded.
“I brush my damn teeth! I mean why would you need one here ?”
“To brush my teeth.”” Her tone was a combination of anger and confusion. It was hard to tell if she was being serious or not.
“You’re not staying here.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Bakugou, can’t you just stop being a selfish asshole for one moment and just let me stay here with one of my best friends who was admitted to the hospital for literally coughing up blood. Can you just get over yourself? Can you do that for me?”
She had to have been delusional, sleep deprived, or even mad. His blood boiled a little hotter with every word she said. One more word and his anger would have bubbled over through his lid and out over the edge. If given the opportunity, sure, he would have gladly kicked her out on his own accord. But the hospital already had rules in place that prevented her from staying the night. It was called “one overnight guest per patient” and it was suddenly Bakugou’s favorite rule.
“Nobody told you, huh?” He cocked his head to the right and raised an eyebrow.
Her lips pursed together. He could only imagine how frustrated she must be completely out of the loop. “What?”
“Bakugou,” Izuku started to interject. “Maybe you could let her stay tonight? She did drop everything to be here.”
“No way, ‘Zuku. I was the one cleaning blood stains out of my passenger seat for a half hour. I’m the one staying the night.”
Uraraka’s face was ten shades of pink. “What? Are you saying I can’t spend the night?”
Another knock interrupted the conversation. Chiyo and another nurse made their way inside the room, carrying a small futon Bakugou was all too familiar with. “I will have to ask that you all keep it down, or neither of you will be sleeping here tonight.” Chiyo scanned the room with a glare that could knock even Bakugou into line. “Unfortunately, we do ask that only one visitor stays the night. Nothing against you, dear,” She nodded toward Uraraka. “But we must ensure that we have enough room to work in case of emergencies. And Mr. Bakugou’s ego here already takes up too much space.”
The unknown nurse stifled a laugh as Uraraka wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Ok,” she mumbled. “I promise I’ll be here bright and early when visiting hours begin, ok?” She was only speaking to Izuku now. “If you want anything from the Espresso Lounge, let me know. I’ll make a special stop just for you.”
Izuku grinned like he did when coffee and donuts were mentioned. “You pamper me, Ochako Uraraka.”
She pulled Izuku’s head and chest into a hug, wrapping her arms completely around his skull. “Don’t do anything dramatic while I’m gone. I can only handle that amount of stress once a day, ok?”
“Promise!”
And Bakugou sure hoped that he would keep his promise.