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The screeching sound of metal folding in on itself lets Bakugou know he needs to get the fuck out of this skyscraper, now.
He’d been called into the agency on his day off (outrageous, I know) because of a sudden villain attack. He didn’t know the quirk, but it had something to do with earthquakes.
His job had been to evacuate the buildings in his designated zone, and he just had to clear one more floor.
Bakugou tugged on his mask, a nervous habit. He flew up the stairs to the final level, not pausing as he smashed the door down. The room was a hazard zone, the roof cracked, the foundation crumbled and began to fall, smashing holes in the lower floors as it went. Bakugou called out in the smoky air, fighting not to cough
“Is anyone here? Yell if you need help!”
He shouted, making his way around the room, trying to avoid the flames as he searched for survivors.
Then,
He heard a sniffle.
“H-hello? Is someone there?”
A small voice croaked out the words from behind a desk. Bakugou quickly crossed the room towards it, ignoring the flames scorching his hero’s uniform.
He was almost to the survivor when the ceiling cracked again, and it hit the desk, splintering it in two. A shriek sounded from the desk, then dissolved into crying.
Shit.
Bakugou crouched in front of the desk, peering underneath. Two watery brown eyes peeked back at him.
“A-are you a hero?” The little voice, decidedly female, was barely above a whisper.
Bakugou nodded. “That’s right, kid. I’m called Dynamight, and I’m going to get you out of here. What’s your name?” He tried to keep his voice as gentle as possible, an effort to keep her calm.
“A-Akira. Are you going to save me?”
“Of course, Akira. Can you try to crawl over here?”
Akira tries to shimmy her way out from under the desk, but she let out a cry and stopped, scrabbling for something behind her.
“M-my legs! I can’t feel them… Mr. Dynamight, I can’t f-feel my legs!”
She let out a wail, and Bakugou…
He didn’t know what to do.
He had to get this girl to the EMT’s, now.
He stood, and moved around to the other side of the desk, where the chunks of ceiling had landed, and began to carefully lift the rubble off of the desk-and the child’s legs.
He couldn’t use his quirk, because he might hurt Akira. But he was going too slow. At this rate, the ceiling would crush them both.
The fire had been largely snuffed out by the debris, but smoke still hung thick in the air, making Dynamight’s eyes water.
Another tremor ran through the ground, and Bakugou barely managed to grab hold of the mangled desk before the building let out a scraping groan, tilting to the side, making the debris littering the floor skid toward the bottom half of the building. The desk began to slide, and Akira screamed as it scraped against her back and dug into her skin, drawing blood. Dynamight steadied the desk, stopping it from hurting the little girl more. He worked faster, throwing chunks of rubble out of the way. More earthquakes rattled the building, but he kept going, until he could see chubby kid legs sticking out from under the concrete and splintered wood. Rivulets of blood ran down one of Akira’s legs, mixing with the grime on the floor, staining the concrete a sharp crimson. With a final heave, Dynamight lifted the desk off of Akira, and she crawled free, legs limp behind her. Bakugou could tell that this was a spinal injury by the way she moved, but he didn’t have a lot of experience treating them. Usually, someone with a more accommodating quirk would move the victim to safety, but he didn’t have time to call someone.
The building shook again, and Bakugou nearly toppled over from the force of it, dropping the desk back onto the floor with a thud. Akira squeaked with fright as she narrowly dodged the desk, her legs still dragging behind her. Dynamight ran to her, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. You weren’t supposed to move patients with a spinal fracture (or that’s what he guessed it was), because you could worsen their injury. But the building was caving, and they needed to move. Bakugou scooped Akira up, hating himself for causing her cries of pain. He held her close to his chest, picking his way through the debris towards an unbroken window. If he could just make it there, they could shatter the glass and he could use his explosions to keep them airborne and safely lower them to the ground.
Only a few more yards, and then he would be there. Home free.
Six steps.
Five.
Four.
He tightened his grip on Akira, murmuring reassurances to her as she sniffled.
Three.
Two-
The building convulsed. Bakugou was upright one second, and then suddenly he was weightless, suspended in the air as the entire building tipped over, gravity taking control as the skyscraper careened teetered, then tipped to one side, the world was spinning, spinning and shit, this was going to hurt.
Bakugou blasted as much of the falling building off of them as he could while they fell. His back smacked against a concrete wall, Akira screaming, I’m scared, I’m scared-
The last thing Bakugou remembered doing was wrapping his arms around the little girl, trying to protect her fragile body from the unforgiving world.
———---——-————————————
When Bakugou opened his eyes, he was convinced he was trapped in a void.
Some kind of space, between heaven and earth, where people wasted away, not quite gone, but not fully there either.
It was only when a blinding flash of agony seared through his entire body, causing his limbs to seize up and a scream to rip its way out of his throat, did he come to the conclusion that he wasn’t dead. He was just in the dark.
It was cold. Bakugou had to repress the shiver that wanted to run down his spine, trying to keep still.
He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open, or if he was just staring at the back of his eyelids. Any attempt at movement resulted in a blinding pain that took his breath away. Gingerly, Bakugou tried to move his head, his cheek resting on a hard slab of rock.
A pulsing ache greeted him. So his head managed to survive relatively unscathed. Fucking miracle if he’s ever heard of one. He tried to sit up, and found two large problems. One. His head hit a slab of something, so he laid back down. He was under something.
Two. He was met with such a visceral, intense feeling of painpainpainpainmakeitstoppleasehewasgoingtodie.
Well. Shit.
A cough stabbed at his chest, something warm trickling out of his mouth. Blood.
He needed to get out of here.
How did he even get here?
He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what had occurred to trap him in this cold, dark, tight space.
He had been called for hero work, civilian evacuation.
A damaged building… rescuing people.
The top floor.
Akira.
FUCK.
Where was the kid?
Bakugou tried to turn his head, searching blindly for the little girl. He was greeted by nothing but darkness on all sides. The blonde didn’t even bother trying to move his hands. They were trapped above him, suspended somewhere. He had a feeling if he moved again, he would pass out. He chose to use his voice instead, his throat dry and crackling. He tried to speak, but only a moan escaped his chapped lips. He tried again
“A-ak…. Ak-ira…?” He croaked, his voice pitifully small. He repeated the name, trying to raise his voice. “Akira. Where are you?”
He had to pause to cough, but he kept calling for her. He kept his voice as loud as he could, even though his vocal cords shrieked at him to stop.
He kept yelling her name, unable to move, his own blood spattering the stone above him with each word. He didn’t stop.
It’s what led the rescuers to him.
Dust and small rocks rained down on Dynamight as chunks of debris and steel beams were lifted and moved, slowly uncovering where the hero had been buried. The voice of Earphone Jack cut through the ringing in his ears.
“He’s just under here! I can hear his heartbeat! Hurry, it’s getting weaker!”
Normally, Dynamight would have blown off Jirou’s head for saying that, but he didn’t think he could stay awake long enough to even try.
Beams of light broke through the darkness, hurting Dynamight’s eyes. He squinted, and blurry shapes began to come into focus as his vision sharpened.
The yellow and black blob cursed. “Holy shit-“
His sentence was cut off by a shocked cry, coming from somewhere behind the yellow thing.
“Oh my god- is that- that’s a child!”
What.
Bakugou tried to move, to see Akira. She must be beside him, or somewhere above-
A scream bubbled out of his mouth, accompanied by dark droplets of blood. Everything in his body told him to move, get away from the pain, but he couldn’t.
All at once, the figures above him came into focus.
Kaminari. Jirou. Sero and Mina running up to them, seeing his body. Screaming for more help.
He must have blacked out, because his eyes flew open as a strangled cry ripped out of his raw throat. There was blinding pain coming from his arms, like someone had shot him, then doused the bullet holes with gasoline and lit him on fire.
Tears, hot and burning, ran through the grime covering Bakugou’s face. He was dimly aware of red above him, shouting, sirens wailing.
Kirishima?
“Red Riot, please step back. We don’t want you injuring the patients.”
“NO! I NEED TO-”
“Kirishima, please! Let them help Bakugou!”
Bakugou’s eyes weren’t focusing. He wanted Kirishima. Wanted to see him. Wanted Kirishima to hold him while he died.
“K-iri…Kirishima?” He rasped.
Heads snapped towards him. Something red collapsed next to him, hands hovering like he didn’t know where to put them, ignoring the protests of the people behind him.
“I’m here-I’m right here, Kats.” Kirishima’s voice cracked, and he choked on a sob.
Bakugou tried to lift his arm, but more blinding pain coursed through his body, and the tears fell faster.
“A-am I…dying?” Bakugou asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“No! No, no you won’t die. You can’t die, and leave me all alone. You already tried that.” Kirishima was fully sobbing now, his tears dripping onto Bakugou’s torn hero suit.
“I love you..” Bakugou wheezed. His vision was dimming. It was getting harder to breathe.
“Kats? Kats, stay with me. Please.” Kirishima started to scream. “No, NO PLEASE, KATSUKI. KATSUKI!”
Katsuki’s vision went dark.
__________________________________________________________________________
The dull beeping of his own heart monitor is what roused Bakugou out of unconsciousness. After managing to find the strength to open his eyes, Bakugou blinked a few times. His eyes blurred, sliding in and out of focus, before sharpening enough to make out his surroundings.
Kirishima sat in a chair next to the bed, Bakugo’s pale hand clutched in his own, an IV snaking into a nearby drip inserted into the blonde's hand. Kirishima’s hair, usually in spikes, fell in limp strands around his sleeping face, the bottom of his eyes sporting killer eyebags.
A dull headache bloomed in the back of Bakugou’s skull, making him wince. That tiny movement alone jostled Kirishima out of his slumber, and he jerked upright, locking eyes with Bakugou.
Tears began to flow freely down the redheads cheeks, peppering the bedsheets as his mouth opened and closed, unable to speak.
Bakugou smiled weakly.
“I stayed with you.”
Those four words have Kirishima throwing his arms around his lover, full-body sobs wracking his frame. He’s gentle, careful not to disturb Bakugou’s numerous wounds, but Bakugou wouldn’t have cared if he did. The blonde gingerly brought his arms up to hug Kirishima, burying his face in the redhead’s shoulder, inhaling his familiar smell of cedar, protein powder, and sandalwood-scented conditioner.
__________________________________________________________
A few hours later, after the nurses had explained his injuries- three broken ribs, a fractured tibia in his left leg, a fractured fibula in his right leg, and impalement of both his arms by a 15-foot-long pole- and Kirishima had explained the events after he’d passed out (He wouldn’t tell Bakugou about Akira), Bakugou was alone in his hospital room, surfing TV channels while Kirishima went to the hospital gift store to look for snacks. It was a bit difficult yo move his arms, but he managed, carefully clicking the button to move from show to show.
It was then that he stumbled on a news station.
Young Child Suffers Awful Death, Despite Hero’s Rescue Efforts.
Surely this wasn’t…
Bakugou knew he should click away.
Forget what he saw.
But he let the news station play.
“The young female, pronounced dead at the scene, was young Akira Takahashi, a beloved daughter and classmate at Tiny Turtle Preschool. Akira was trapped inside of an unnamed skyscraper during the villain’s attack, and was buried underneath six stories of rubble along with Pro Hero Dynamight. We have received reports of the hero miraculously surviving the ordeal, because the young child’s body was impaled, along with Dynamight’s arms.
A picture flashed across the screen, just after a momentary warning of a graphic scene about to be shown.
It showed the metal pole, going through Bakugou’s arms, into the little girl he’s tried to protect.
Her face was blurred, along with most of the image, but Bakugou didn’t care.
His breakfast- water and a few crackers- shoved at his throat.
He was only alive because Akari had blocked the pole.
She should be in this bed right now.
Not him.
He’d failed.
She was dead because of him
Kirishima opened the door, carrying a thing plastic bag, sporting a variety of snacks and drinks, a grin on his face.
Bakugou began to gag, leaning over the side of the bed, his fingers gripping his mouth, trying to keep it all in.
Kirishima dropped the bag, shutting the door and rushing to his boyfriend, thrusting a trash bin underneath the slew of vomit that fell from Bakugou’s lips. Tears joined the putrid mix, and then Bakugou was sobbing and vomiting.
Kirishima rubbed his back, murmuring encouragingly into his ear as he wailed in between his heaves.
Once nothing else would come up, Bakugou sat back on his bed, panting. Nurses he hadn’t noticed before flitted around him, but Kirishima stayed by his bed, holding his hand. Tears still eeked out of Bakugou’s eyes, dampening his hospital gown. He stayed silent until the nurses left, staring down at his blankets, his hands limp on the covers.
Hands that had failed to block the pole.
Hands that weren’t strong enough to protect the little girl from being speared through like a fish.
Bakugou swallowed hard, tears flowing freely again.
“I killed her.”
It was the first time he’d spoken since Kirishima had found him having a meltdown.
Kirishima squeezed his hand tighter.
“You did everything you could. This isn’t your fault.”
Bakugou choked on a whimper. Who was he turning into? “I couldn’t save her.”
Kirishima’s face crumpled, and he sat on Bakugou’s bed, pulling him into a giant hug. “I know.”
They stayed like that, Bakugou sobbing and sometimes screaming, until a knock at the door silenced them both.
Kaminari peeked into the room, his eyes red rimmed and hair a mess. Sero, Mina, and Jirou poked their heads in after, all in similar states of disarray.
Jirou held up a thermos.
“We brought spicy ramen…”
Bakugou looked up, his lips curling up into a pained smile. “Get in here, losers.”
Not needing further invitation, the rest of the Bakusquad piled into the room, crawling onto Bakugou’s bed, making the hinges shriek in protest at warm bodies pressed together in a group hug. Kaminari buried his face in Bakugou’s shoulder, Sero in his other side, while Mina and Jirou kept their arms around Kirishima.
“You scared us, man.” Kaminari whispered, voice cracking. Bakugou brought a hand up to tousle his hair, ignoring the spark of pain. “I’m fucking fine, sparky. You lot need to calm the fuck down, I’m not leaving anytime soon.”
Mina made an incredulous sound, rising to her knees, voice raising.
“You were impaledI Excuse us for being worried!”
Kirishima patted her knee, and she settled back down reluctantly. Bakugou grinned.
“Calm your tits, I’ll be okay.”
Kirishima planted a kiss on Bakugou’s cheek.
“Look at you, all smiley. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you loved our friends.”
Bakugou’s face dropped into a scowl. “Fuck off!”
“He doesn’t deny it~” Jirou sang, moving back to avoid Bakugou’s halfhearted punch. Kirishima pushed his arm down gently.
“Kats, stop moving! Just because you’re on painkillers doesn’t mean this won’t hurt you.”
Bakugou huffed, but didn’t argue with him.
After a few hours had passed, the nurses came in to alert the group that visiting time was over, and only Kirishima was permitted to stay in the room. Before they left, the group clustered around Bakugou, hugging and ruffling his hair.
“If you need anything, either of you, call us.” Sero said firmly. Kaminari nodded his agreement.
“Especially if you’re sad. No moping in Bakusquad without everyone present to cry with you!” He declared, and the other echoed his sentiment. Bakugou bit back a smile.
“Tch. Whatever, extras.”
Kirishima waved goodbye as the quad filed out, then shut the door before collapsing onto Bakugou’s bed.
“Cuddles?”
“Cuddles.”
Kirishima scooted under the covers with his lover, and wrapped his arms around the blonde, tucking Bakugou against him. Bakugou nuzzled him, breathing in Kirishima’s warmth.
Tears sprang unbidden to his eyes, and the day caught up to bakugou in a rush. With a sob, he buried his face in Kirishima’s shirt, letting his emotions run their course. Kirishima stroked his hair, pressing kisses to his temple, letting Bakugou grieve. Bakugou was infinitely grateful.
1 YEAR LATER
A picnic was set out on the grass, near a small, pristine headstone freshly laden with roses, daisies, and a few more flowers. Bakugou hadn’t known what kind Akira wanted, so he bought most of what the local flower shop down the street had to offer. Bakugou stood by the grave, just looking down at the small thing, lost in thought.
“You coming? Flies are trying to come after your sandwich, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to hold them off.”
Kirishima’s voice roused the blond out of his stupor, and Bakugou walked back to his fiancee, his legs surprisingly steady. “Coming, baby.”
Kirishima looked up as he sat down.
“Whay were you doing? Did you forget something?”
Bakugou smiled.
“I just had to give someone a letter.”
Kirishima looked confused, but didn’t press, and the couple began to eat.
Hours earlier, Bakugou had sealed a small slip of paper in a baby pink envelope, slipping it into his pocket to bring to the grave during their picnic.
Inside, on that small slip of paper, were two words, etched out in a rough scrawl using a black felt pen.
Thank you.
Somewhere, far above, in the place where the sky meets the heavens, a little girl clutching a fluffy white bunny sat watching, a bright smile on her small face. Her big doe eyes sparkled with starlight.
“You’re welcome.”