Work Text:
Imagine Bakugou falling off a cliff. Or maybe out of an airplane. Somewhere high up, where there’s no chance of saving him. He can try to use the force of his explosions to fly himself back up, but the angle is all wrong, and he’s already fallen so far that no amount of explosions could ever propel him back up.
Imagine Uraraka jumping after him, because she knows she’s the only one who could possibly save him. Tokoyami’s shadow can only reach so far, and Tsuyu’s tongue is only so long. Sero’s tape might reach him, but he might get pulled out himself, or hurt Bakugou. She’s the only one who can save him in time.
Imagine her jumping out, face determined, streamlining her body so she can get to him faster.
Imagine them both falling, closer and closer to oblivion, time running out. At the last moment, Uraraka is able to reach out and grab Bakugou’s hand before they hit the ground.
Imagine Bakugou floating and holding tightly to Uraraka, who had no time to float herself. Imagine him pulling her up, still tightly holding her hand, and cradling her close to him. Even now, they’re still far up, and he doesn’t want her to die so soon after saving him.
She catches her breath, and makes herself float to ease the weight Bakugou has to carry. Bakugou continues to hold her close regardless.
Imagine them floating slowly through the clouds, down and down, until they reach solid ground, no worse for wear. Imagine Bakugou gently laying Uraraka down as she pants, not used to holding anything–let alone people–(let alone herself)–up for so long. Imagine Bakugou kneeling down next to her and awkwardly, but sincerely, rubbing her back as she fights off nausea, still tightly holding her hand, and quietly saying “Thank you.”
Imagine her gripping his hand back lightly, too sick to grasp tightly, and gives him a wavering, watery, but still somehow cheerful smile, even through her discomfort. “No problem,” she huffs, sweating. She turns her face back towards the ground, her free hand desperately covering her mouth. Bakugou continues to rub her back in an attempt to ease her nausea, and they stay like that until the others finally come to get them.
Bakugou isn’t any worse for wear. Uraraka suffered most of the damage from her own weight limit–usually she can hold much more weight, but keeping a body–her own body–steadily floating down several hundred feet is something she’s never done before, and it hit her as hard as her weight capacity usually does.
Bakugou watches as she’s carted off to their makeshift infirmary, not saying a word, and silently makes a fist with the hand he held hers in.
He can still feel the warmth from her hand.