Broken, but Still Good

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/16435358.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of
Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Categories: Gen, M/M
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero
Academia (Anime & Manga)
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima
Eijirou
Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou
Masaru, Shuuzenji Chiyo | Recovery Girl, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead
Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Recovery, Alpha/Beta/Omega
Dynamics, Alpha Bakugou Katsuki, Beta Kirishima Eijirou, Non-
Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Beta, basically
Bakugou whump, There will be a happy ending, but it's going to hurt
getting there, Bakugou Katsuki Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress
Disorder, Bakugou Katsuki Has Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki Needs a
Hug, Bakugou Katsuki-centric, Older Characters, Pro Hero Kirishima
Eijirou, Kidnapped Bakugou Katsuki, Alternate Universe - Canon
Divergence, Crying Bakugou Katsuki, like a lot, Bakugou Katsuki
Swears A Lot, Angst with a Happy Ending, Specific Chapter Tags in End
Notes of Each Chapter
Language: English
Collections: My hero academia, kat's top-tier bnha fics, kiribaku aus, great work by
boku no hero academia, MHA Chaotic Energy 3000, Only the best
kiribaku, Awesome Fics, Book I Finished reading, fics i wanna hold
hands with, Hurt/comfort fics for the soul, i have way too much time on
my hands lemme reread this fic, Fics krbk that makes me want to live
every day, Kiribaku_que_volveria_a_leer, My Hero Academia
Stats: Published: 2018-10-28 Completed: 2020-10-18 Words: 75,568 Chapters:
10/10
 Broken, but Still Good
by deviance

Summary

“He’s just too combative. I know he was recovered from an illegal Alpha fighting ring and
we can’t do much for that, but he’s not receptive to any of our attempts to help. He instantly
starts fights with any Alphas that try to reach out to him, even if they aren’t posturing, and if
we try to send in an Omega to keep him calm he somehow manages to freak out even more.”

“All we can do it be patient and provide him a safe environment to heal. We don’t know how
long he was held captive nor what sort of things he’s had to do to survive.”

“But if no one can get close to him, how are we supposed to help?”

“Have we tried sending in a Beta? If we have one that would be capable of withstanding his
quirk, it may be the best middle ground.”

“Red Riot, one of my previous students might be able to. Kirishima’s quirk is hardening and
should be strong enough to withstand the Alpha’s explosions. Plus his personality tends to let
him make friends with just about everyone. He was on the infiltration team too, so he’s at
least minimally aware of the situation. He’d have to be briefed on the specifications, of
course.”

“He sounds like the best chance we’ve got."

“Can’t hurt to try, I guess."

Notes

So this an idea I've had plaguing my mind for a while and I decided to finally sit down and
start writing it. To summarize the main canon divergence, it's that Bakugou's family moved
before he started at UA so he went to a different school and he didn't get the help he needed,
didn't make any friends, didn't start growing as a person, and still ended up being kidnapped
but he didn't get rescued. I've also added the A/B/O element because I wanted to, but I roll
non-traditional with it and I hope that's okay. The main point of this fic isn't the A/B/O.

THIS IS GOING TO BE DARK! I chose not to add tags because I don't know yet just how
detailed I'm going to be and I don't want to spoil any reveals, but Bakugou did not have a
happy time during his kidnapping. This first chapter alludes to some of the things he's been
through and I promise to give chapter warnings if I do go more explicit later on, but just be
aware, okay?
 Chapter 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

“He’s just too combative,” Aizawa said, sighing exhaustedly as he collapsed into his chair. “I
know he was recovered from an illegal Alpha fighting ring and we can’t do much for that, but
he’s not receptive to any of our attempts to help. He instantly starts fights with any Alphas
that try to reach out to him, even if they aren’t posturing, and if we try to send in an Omega to
keep him calm he somehow manages to freak out even more.”

“Maybe they tried to force him to breed,” Yamada suggested, steel in his voice. “That League
was a sick group and that wouldn’t be unheard of, considering the rarity of his quirk.”

“All we can do it be patient and provide him a safe environment to heal,” Shuuzenji said
sadly, looking down at the Alpha’s minimal file as no one had been able to get close enough
to do a proper checkup. “We don’t know how long he was held captive nor what sort of
things he’s had to do to survive.”

“But if no one can get close to him, how are we supposed to help?” Yamada asked
hopelessly. The question was on everyone’s mind.

“Have we tried sending in a Beta?” Nezu suggested. “If we have one that would be capable
of withstanding his quirk, it may be the best middle ground.”

Aizawa hummed, flipping through a few files. “Red Riot, one of my previous students might
be able to,” he suggested tiredly. “Kirishima’s quirk is hardening and should be strong
enough to withstand the Alpha’s explosions. Plus his personality tends to let him make
friends with just about everyone. He was on the infiltration team too, so he’s at least
minimally aware of the situation. He’d have to be briefed on the specifications, of course.”

“He sounds like the best chance we’ve got,” Shuuzenji said.

“Can’t hurt to try, I guess,” Yamada agreed.

…..

“Are you sure?” Kirishima asked, following Aizawa down the hall of the hospital. “I mean,
I’m nothing special.”

“You’re just what we need,” Aizawa denied. “This Alpha is about your age, we think, and
your quirk should let you withstand his if he reacts negatively. Recovery Girl has already
briefed you on what happened, right?”

Kirishima nodded. “Yeah, he’s a recovery from that underground Alpha fighting ring that the
League was running, right? She said he’s really temperamental and not to push him too
much. She said he’s refused to talk though so there’s not a lot of information beyond what
you can gleam from his appearance.”

“He becomes confrontational and postures whenever an Alpha or Omega enters the room, so
we’re hopeful that a Beta might not cause such a strong response. We have no way of
knowing what his triggers are though, so if he becomes confrontational just back away and
we’ll think of something else.”

Kirishima nodded. “Understood.”

Aizawa paused outside of the scent-proof room, nodding. “He’s in there,” he said. “Be easy.”

Kirishima eyed the doorknob, jaw setting determinedly before he knocked a few times and
eased the door open.

As Kirishima slipped into the room, he frowned at the mess of things, not immediately
spotting the Alpha. He did finally spot the blond though, the Alpha backed against the wall
and glaring at Kirishima venomously. His lip curled once he met Kirishima’s eyes, flashing
his fangs and releasing a deep guttural growl of warning.

Kirishima smiled. “Hello there,” he said, easing to the ground without stepping closer and
sitting cross-legged on the floor casually. The Alpha had just a flicker of confusion cross his
face before he glared even harder.

“I’m Kirishima Eijirou,” he offered easily. “I’m twenty-two, a Beta, and a hero. My hero
name is Red Riot. I don’t know if you’ve heard of me?” The Alpha continued to glare, so
Kirishima continued to babble. “The doctors and other heros thought you might react a little
better if a Beta reached out to you instead of another Alpha or an Omega. Do you need
anything? Like some food or maybe some water? I can get you whatever you want. Even if
you want some more blankets or something.”

The Alpha huffed, snarling soundlessly before easing back into a semi-casual crouch.

“Everyone here really wants to help you, but there’s some things they can’t know unless you
tell them. Like your name. Will you tell me your name?”

The Alpha’s palms sparked, popping with explosions threatening. Kirishima tried for
disarming, quirking a nervous smile.

“That’s a cool quirk you’ve got. Strong,” he said, raising an arm and hardening it. “My quirk
isn’t as flashy, but it’s still pretty useful.”

The Alpha’s eyes narrowed at he studied his arm before a deep growl rumbled through him,
angrier than before. He stalked closer and Kirishima was quick to get to his feet, not moving
closer but knowing it wasn’t wise to remain at a lower perch when a posturing Alpha was
approaching.

“Hey, dude, it’s okay,” Kirishima tried again to soothe. “You’re safe here. I promise.” He
hardened his fists and tapped them together in front of his chest. “No one is going to make
you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Bullshit,” the Alpha growled, voice rough with disuse.

Kirishima’s eyes widened and he fought the urge to run forward in excitement. He’d talked!
“What do you mean?” he asked instead, confused. “The League has all been captured. This
hospital is full of pros that will protect you and every other patient. No one is getting to you.”

The Alpha roared, explosions erupting from his palms, and before Kirishima could get the
door open for him to pull back and give the Alpha his space, the Alpha was already in his
face, forcing fiery palms at him. Kirishima hardened on instinct, taking the brunt of the
Alpha’s attack and eventually capturing his wrists and directing his attack away from his
face.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” he tried to soothe, heart racing as the Alpha jerked within his hold,
flailing wildly in panic. His breathing was getting faster, loud pants as he struggled to get
enough oxygen and to get out of Kirishima’s hold. “Please, calm down,” Kirishima tried,
instantly letting go of his wrists as he realized it was making the other’s panic worse and
hardening his chest when the Alpha pressed his palms there and starting igniting them against
him. Kirishima didn’t try to grab him again, he could handle the explosions for now. “It’s
okay.”

“I’m not going back!” the Alpha growled, sounding hysterical. “Fuck that. Fuck them. Fuck
you! No! I’m not! You can’t make me! I’ll kill you!” he screamed.

“You’re not going back,” Kirishima said seriously. “You’re never going back. I promise. I
swear to you,” he said vehemently, managing to catch the Alpha’s wild red eyes with his
own. “I swear, I won’t let them take you back.”

The Alpha was still gasping for air, but the explosions had stopped, so Kirishima hoped that
meant something good beyond the Alpha having exhausted himself.

“You can’t make that promise,” the Alpha denied, shaking his head. His shoulders were
trembling. His hands were shaking. Kirishima fought to keep the worry off his face,
somehow doubting that would help.

“I can,” Kirishima said. “I’m a hero, remember? I protect people. And I promise I’ll protect
you.”

The Alpha’s lip trembled. Kirishima thought, for a moment, that he’d step closer and let
Kirishima hug him—he really looked like he could use one—but instead he pulled away,
back-peddling into the corner he’d originally been in.

“Bakugou,” he forced out, sounding strained. Kirishima never took his eyes off of him. “My
name is Bakugou. Katsuki.”

“Nice to meet you, Bakugou,” Kirishima said sincerely.

“Whatever, shitty hair,” Bakugou growled, hands closing in to tight fists. “Bring me
something to eat, I’m fucking starving.”

Kirishima grinned. “Right on it! Any requests?”

Bakugou glanced at him. “Spicy. Something spicy.”

Kirishima nodded, reaching for the door. “I’ll be right back then.”

“You better be,” Bakugou grumbled, looking away as Kirishima slipped back out the room.

…..

“This is great news, Kirishima,” Shuuzenji said, turning to her computer. “With his family
name we should be able to find him in the records of missing people.”

“I’m glad you were able to make him feel safe,” Nezu said from his perch on the desk. “This
is the best response we could’ve expected.”

“Bakugou Katsuki,” Shuuzenji said, smiling, “I’ve found him.” She frowned. “Oh dear.”

“What is it?” Yamada asked, leaning to read over her shoulder.

“He’s been missing for almost four years.”

Kirishima hissed and the whole room looked to the screen somberly. A picture of the Alpha
was on the screen, a graduation photo from when he was eighteen. He looked healthier,
cheeks flushed with anger and an arrogant sneer on his face, but he was definitely the same
wild-eyed Alpha in the other room.

“Four years,” Kirishima echoed hollowly, pain aching in his chest. There was no telling what
sorts of horrors Bakugou had had to live through to survive four years with the League.

“Kirishima, we’ll contact his parents. Didn’t you say young Bakugou was hungry? Why
don’t you go get him something to eat from the cafeteria?” Shuuzenji suggested.

Kirishima nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

…..

Kirishima knocked before entering Bakugou’s room again, peeking through the door and
grinning when the Alpha glared at him.

“Hey! I brought you food!” He said, slipping through the door and showing the tray holding
the spicy curry he’d managed to find.

“About damn time,” Bakugou growled, snatching it and quickly starting to eat. He hunched
over the tray protectively, free hand curled around the bowl, and his shoulders tensed when
Kirishima moved to sit on the foot of the bed. He glared from under his bangs at the other but
didn’t quit eating until it was all gone. Then he gulped down the bottle of water that
Kirishima had also gotten him.

“Tastes like shit,” Bakugou grumbled, shoving the tray back towards Kirishima. “You call
that spicy?”

Kirishima chuckled. “Dude, it’s a hospital, they don’t have super spicy food. And hey, you
ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I’m not stupid enough to skip a meal in front of me,” Bakugou rolled his eyes. Kirishima’s
heart thumped hard at the thought that maybe Bakugou hadn’t always been fed regularly; he
took in his gaunt cheeks and the baggy hang of the gown on his frame, determined that he’d
definitely missed meals, and then quickly tried not to think about it.

“So, um,” Kirishima began awkwardly, “your name.”

Bakugou focused on him, red eyes sharp like he was sizing Kirishima up to take him down,
and Kirishima almost felt like he was about to go to war.

“What about it?” Bakugou demanded when Kirishima didn’t continue.

“Recovery Girl pulled your name through the system of missing people,” Kirishima told him.
“She’s going to get in contact with your parents and let them know we’ve found you.”

Bakugou bared his teeth, a low rumble in his chest in warning.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kirishima promised.

“You don’t know shit,” Bakugou spat, teeth snapping anxiously.

“I swear to you,” Kirishima murmured.

Bakugou’s teeth grinded and his nostrils flared as he huffed. “Did they really catch the entire
League?”

“We think so,” Kirishima said. He wasn’t part of the investigation team, but he’d been
present for the takedown so he was sort of kept in the loop. “Everyone who was present at the
warehouse.”

Bakugou growled and, even though he was a Beta and didn’t have as strong a sense of smell
as Alphas or Omegas, Kirishima could smell that Bakugou was nearly saturated in a warning,
aggressive scent. It tickled his nose and Kirishima sniffled, trying not to sneeze.

“All for One?” Bakugou ground out through his clenched teeth, clearly not wanting to speak
the villain’s name but needing to know.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Kirishima promised, voice as close to a growl as the Beta could
manage. Many, including Kirishima himself, remembered when All for One had forced the
number one hero All Might to retire almost seven years ago—they’d only just managed to
save All Might from being killed with the help of Endeavor, Edgeshot, Best Jeanist, Hawks,
and other top heroes that had banded together—by fighting him publically and revealing All
Might’s weakened state. He’d only gotten a glimpse of All for One during the broadcast of
the fight—the news team having been too far for any close-ups—but he didn’t want to think
about what that sort of man could’ve done to Bakugou for the last four years.

Bakugou nodded, looking down at his hands. Kirishima frowned.

“Hey, dude,” he tried, slowly reaching out.

“Don’t!” Bakugou growled, jerking back. Kirishima froze before pulling away. Bakugou’s
shoulders lowered and he shifted backwards in the bed until he was pressed as far from
Kirishima as he could be. “Don’t. Touch me,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry,” Kirishima said, “I won’t. I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry,” he said. “Would you like
me to leave? Or just move further away? I can go sit over there,” he gestured to the chair
against the wall a few feet away.

Bakugou huffed. “Just. Stay there,” he said, glancing at the door which was behind
Kirishima. “Don’t come closer though. Or touch me. Ever!”

Kirishima nodded. “Okay, dude. I won’t.”

They sat in silence, Kirishima unsure on what to say. He wondered if it wouldn’t be better for
him to leave, but Bakugou had asked him to stay. He bit his bottom lip in thought.

“Talk to me.”

Kirishima looked over and saw Bakugou curled in on himself, face hidden by his knees and
arms around himself protectively.

“About what?” Kirishima asked.

“Anything,” Bakugou said, almost a gasp though Kirishima couldn’t see his face to make
sure. “Just. Talk. I can’t. The silence. I can’t.”

“Well I went to UA,” Kirishima blurted, unsure of what to talk about. “I used to really hate
my quirk but UA was kind of the turning point for me.”

“Why would you hate your quirk?” Bakugou grumbled, peeking over his knees to glare at
Kirishima.

Kirishima shrugged. “I mean, it’s not really all that flashy, kind of boring. I’ve grew into it
since then and it’s okay now, but back then I guess I just wasn’t all that confident in myself.”

“Sounds stupid,” Bakugou said. “You withstood my explosions without flinching. Your quirk
is strong.”

Kirishima grinned. “Thanks, dude.”

“Quit calling me dude,” Bakugou growled.

Kirishima laughed. “Sorry, that’s just what I call people. I can try though, Baku-bro.”

Bakugou flashed a fang, eyes narrowing. “Fuck no.”

Kirishima chuckled, pleased to see Bakugou had relaxed a little and wasn’t in such a
defensive position. He was still tense, but he wasn’t curled so tightly or hiding his face any
further.

A knock at the door interrupted them both and Kirishima looked to the door, feeling Bakugou
stiffen through the movement of the mattress. A low growl started from the Alpha as soon as
the door slid open, revealing Recovery Girl.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” she spoke, voice just as kind as always. She didn’t step into
the room though, which Kirishima was thankful for as Bakugou’s low growl deepened and
the other male started tensing as a start for posturing. “I only wanted to inform you that your
parents have been contacted and they are on their way. They said they’d be here in a few
hours, as soon as they could.”

Bakugou snarled, scent acrid enough to for Kirishima to pick it up again, and he fought the
urge to try and comfort the Alpha with touch, knowing that would be the opposite of helpful.

“Thanks for letting us know,” Kirishima said, shifting nonchalantly and putting his body
squarely between Bakugou and Recovery Girl. He could take the Alpha’s attacks if it came to
that but he hoped maybe it would make him feel more secure, to have Kirishima between him
and the newcomer, even if she was also a Beta.

“Of course, I’ll leave you alone now,” she said before closing the door once more.

Kirishima turned back to look at Bakugou, taking in the Alpha’s aggressive posture. “What
do you need me to do?” he asked, scared of making it worse for the other.

Bakugou clenched his teeth, snarling wordlessly, explosions popping from his palms.
Kirishima waited, watching Bakugou take deep breaths, his eyes scanning the entire
perimeter of the room before finally landing on Kirishima again. He shivered, muscles
trembling from being tense for too long and finally chuffed, irritated.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima asked.

“This is so fucking stupid,” he spat, clearly still on edge.

“You don’t want to see your family?” Kirishima was surprised. He couldn’t imagine going
four years without seeing his moms or sisters.

“That’s not…” Bakugou frowned down at his palms. “I don’t know if I can,” he stressed
under his breath, so low Kirishima only barely heard him. “I don’t even…I don’t even know
how to still be their son. I don’t even know who I am or what I’d say or do. I don’t even
know how long I’ve been gone!”

Kirishima bit his lip to keep from tearing up, clenching his fists into the mattress to fight off
the desire to hug the other.
“Four years,” he revealed hesitantly. Bakugou focused on him with wild eyes. “You’ve been
missing for four years.

“Four years,” Bakugou echoed hollowly before his teeth clenched, eyes squeezing shut.
“Four fucking years!”

“Bakugou!” Kirishima shouted as Bakugou’s palms started popping with explosions and the
blond yelled in frustration.

“Those shitheads had me for four years?!” Bakugou clawed at the mattress and wall, leaving
deep lines with his nails and smoke from his explosions.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima tried again, hand half raised and leaning closer.

“Fuck,” Bakugou repeated, lower and with more emotion, and Kirishima watched in horror
as water welled in the other’s eyes. “Four years,” he muttered to himself. “I don’t…I can’t…
what am I supposed to do now?”

“Just take it one day at a time,” Kirishima murmured. “You’ve got a lot of people supporting
you.”

“But you don’t know what it was like!” Bakugou growled, glaring up at him suddenly. “What
they did. What I did. I can’t…I can’t just go back to…to being some normal person! Not
after…” Bakugou looked down at his hands now in horror. “After…After what I’ve done.”

“No one blames you for anything,” Kirishima promised. “You did whatever you had to to
survive. You’re so strong, Bakugou.”

“You don’t know anything,” Bakugou spat at him, venomous.

“I can’t imagine what sort of things they made you do,” Kirishima said. “You’re right about
that. But you’re here, alive, and you’re working to heal. You’re way stronger than anything
they ever could’ve expected. I know you may not feel like it right now, but you won,
Bakugou.”

A rough scratchy bark came from Bakugou’s throat as he growled thunderously. He looked at
Kirishima and saw red. Red hair, red eyes, red blood on his hands.

‘Looks like you won, young Bakugou. Guess you care more about your own life than being a
hero.’

“Get out.”

‘You think you can ever come back from this? You’ve taken a life selfishly, for your own
benefit. You fought and killed. You’ve dug into another’s flesh, used your quirk as a weapon,
acted as the animal we always knew you were.’

“Get out!”

‘You will never be a hero. You will always be a villain. You’re one of us.’
“Get out!”

Bakugou’s roar echoed in the room, Kirishima scrambling away, startled on what could’ve
possibly caused such an explosion in the Alpha. He hesitated at the doorway, but with the last
bellowing roar from the blond he slipped out, not wanting to agitate Bakugou more than he
already was.

…..

Kirishima sat in the room with Recovery Girl and Aizawa, unsure on what else he could do
but reluctant to leave.

“Don’t feel so bad, Kirishima,” Recovery Girl said, patting his arm soothingly. “It’s
impossible to know what sort of things might trigger another person. You couldn’t have
anticipated this sort of reaction.”

“I hurt him,” Kirishima said, frowning.

“The villains hurt him,” Aizawa refuted with a tired sigh. “He isn’t going to get past this by
ignoring that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Why don’t you give him some time and bring him his next meal?” Recovery Girl suggested.
“So far you’re the only one he’s allowed into the room for more than a few seconds without
getting worked up.”

“Shouldn’t his parents be here soon?” Kirishima asked. “I’m sure he’d rather see them than
me. He doesn’t even know me.”

“You’re the only one who can keep his instincts from flaring up so for now we’ll just stick
with the current set up. We can discuss changes when they actually get here and we see how
he reacts to them,” Aizawa said.

Kirishima nodded, accepting it, before starting on some paperwork to kill time until it was
time to take Bakugou his next meal.

…..

Screaming echoing down the hall, the kind that triggered an instinct fight-or-flight response.
All three pro heros were instantly running out of the room and dashing down the hall along
with hospital personnel.

“Ma'am, please!” A nurse cried out desperately. The few Omegas on staff were nearly
saturating the halls with soothing hormones to try and calm the situation, the other patients
closing their doors to try and separate from the situation.

There was a mighty roar, a completely Alpha sound that thundered deep and carried far down
the hall and Kirishima instantly knew it was Bakugou. He ran faster, fearing for the blond or
anyone who may be at the end of his powerful explosions.
“Katsuki!” A woman shrieked, and as they turned the corner to the Alpha's room, Kirishima
could make out a blond woman who was nearly sobbing as she reached out to Bakugou who
was pressed back against the wall and snarling viciously. A man with brown hair was curled
against a far wall and watching the whole scene hopelessly as tears continuously tracked
down his face, seeming completely lost.

“Ma'am, you need to calm down. You're agitating him!” A nurse tried again, attempting to
pull the woman away to give Bakugou more space. The Alpha woman growled.

“He’s my son! Let me go!”

Bakugou roared again and Kirishima was nearly vibrating from the anger and fear emanating
from him. His hands were sparking and popping and he shoved them forward to attack.

“No!” Kirishima cried out, rushing forward and forcing the Alpha to press his palms flat
against his hardened chest to take the brunt of the attack. “Bakugou! Breathe,” he ordered,
noticing that the blond was nearly hyperventilating.

“Katsuki,” the woman cried out again and Bakugou howled, shaking his head wildly.

“Just shut up!” He screamed, knees failing him as he slid down the wall and curled in on
himself protectively. “Shut up shut up shut up shut up!”

“Mrs. Bakugou, if you would please control yourself,” Kirishima heard Aizawa say, not that
he took his attention off of Bakugou. “You're making things worse for everyone, including
your son.”

She growled, aggressive Alpha scent spiking, but so did Aizawa's, though his was more
defensive. Even Kirishima was getting a headache sitting in the room with so many strong,
conflicting scents in the air; he couldn’t imagine how bad it was for the others, for Bakugou.
Aizawa glared at her sternly until she finally lowered from her posturing and the staff could
breathe.

In the ensuing silence, everyone heard Bakugou's breath hitch before choking sobs came. His
mother gasped, reaching out for him again, and Bakugou flinched away from her, releasing a
few compulsive pops from his palms in warning to stay away.

“It's okay,” Kirishima murmured lowly, edging closer but careful not to crowd him or touch
him. He slid until he was between Bakugou and the other occupants of the room. “You're
safe.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou cursed wetly, shoulders trembling in the wake of his breakdown.

Kirishima heard the nurses start to pull away, emptying the room of any unneeded bodies
now that disaster seemed to be averted. Kirishima didn't move to look to see if anyone else
had left.

“Do you want me to talk?” Kirishima asked.

Bakugou shook his head in a quick jerking motion.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked patiently.

Again, a jerking ‘no’ head shake.

“I'm just going to stay here then, until you're ready. Promise,” he said, settling down to wait.

“Katsuki,” the woman cried out softly, sniffling. “Baby. Don't you want mama? Or your dad?
Baby, we've missed you. We were so worried.”

Bakugou didn't lift his head from his knees but he shook harder.

“Do you want us to leave for a little bit, son?” The man against the wall spoke up for the first
time, voice softer than Kirishima expected.

Bakugou nodded just as jerkily as before and his mother inhaled as if he'd struck her.
Bakugou flinched at the sound and his dad was quick to stand and gently lead her towards the
door.

“Let's go for the walk, Mitsuki, give him some room the breathe.”

“It's been four years, Masaru,” Mitsuki stressed, distraught, but she let herself be led out of
the door and down the hall.

“I'm going to step out into the hall,” Aizawa announced.

“I'll go get you some iced water, dearie,” Recovery Girl offered.

“Just us now,” Kirishima announced after they’d left since Bakugou still hadn't looked up.

Bakugou peeked up at him and Kirishima fought the urge to wince in sympathy. His eyes
were bloodshot from tears and panic, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

“What do you need?” Kirishima asked quietly.

“For my shitty parents to wear fucking scent suppressors, holy shit,” Bakugou croaked out,
clenching his eyes shut. “I didn't think...I hadn't thought that with them...but they totally do.
Mom especially. Fuck.”

Kirishima was already nodding. “That's okay. I'll tell them before they come in again, okay?
And next time we'll make sure you know ahead of time so it's not a surprise.”

“God, my head hurts,” Bakugou groaned.

“Would you like some medicine?” Kirishima asked.

Bakugou glanced at him before shrugging. Kirishima took that as a ‘yes’ and stood slowly,
walking over to the door and cracking it to speak to Aizawa.

“Eraserhead? Could we get some headache reliever? And could you tell Bakugou's parents
they need to get some scent blockers?”
Aizawa nodded. “I'll pass along the message. And I'll have Recovery Girl get some
medicine.”

“Thanks,” Kirishima said, offering a small smile before closing the door and heading back to
his place sitting on the floor in front of Bakugou.

“This fucking sucks,” Bakugou growled suddenly, looking down at his hands with rage
turning within his gaze. “Goddamn All for One.”

“Do you want to talk?” Kirishima asked quietly. “About what happened?”

“What's there to tell? Basically everything you imagine might have happened, happened,”
Bakugou spat. “And I mean everything.” He frowned, a last tear trailing down his cheek,
following the trails from before. “I'll never be able to become a hero now.”

“If you want to become a hero, I don't see why you couldn't,” Kirishima argued.

Bakugou sneered, glaring at him. “Oh you don't, do you? You don't see how me killing
people would mean I couldn't become a hero? You don't see how me torturing people would
mean I couldn't become a hero? God, I've even—He made me—I—” Bakugou starting
gagging, turning to the side and barely managing to avoid throwing up on himself. Kirishima
scrambled to grab a towel and offered it to him, watching with sadness as Bakugou wiped his
mouth off and started crying once more. “I can never be a hero!” He cried, hopeless.

“None of that was your fault,” Kirishima stressed. “You just said he made you do that stuff.
It's not your fault that that sick twisted man made you fight for your life. It's not a crime to
want to live.”

“You don't understand,” Bakugou hiccuped. “Goddammit, where's that bitch with that glass
of water?” He pointedly changed the subject, brutishly wiping his face and snorting loudly.

“I'll go check,” Kirishima said, wanting to give Bakugou a few moments to collect himself.

Kirishima slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. His face was solemn as he
contemplated what Bakugou had just confirmed. He, along with all the other heroes involved
in the rescue, had assumed Bakugou—and the other Alphas that had been recovered, as few
as they’d found alive—had had to fight to the death in the League’s ring, but to have it all
said out loud so plainly...and he couldn't imagine what could be worse than killing or
torturing someone that would make Bakugou that upset but he guessed if anyone was going
to come up with something that bad it would be All For One.

“How's he doing?” Recovery Girl asked as she handed him the water and headache pills.

“Not good, but he's stable, for now. I think,” he sighed. “I really hope we can get him to talk
to a therapist at some point. I'm always willing to listen and help however I can, but the stuff
he's gone through...I have no idea the best thing to do,” he admitted.

“I think you're helping more than you know,” she said, smiling kindly. “Just be his rock for
now, somewhere stable for him to rest and feel safe. The healing will have to come with
time.”

Kirishima nodded, taking one last deep inhale before returning to the room.

“Hey, got you that water and some pills for your headache,” he said, setting the glass and the
plastic container holding the pills in front of Bakugou on the floor before sliding back so
Bakugou could grab them without touching him.

“Thanks,” Bakugou murmured, taking a long drink of water before swallowing both pills and
downing the rest of the glass. “I'm tired.”

“How much did you sleep last night?” Kirishima asked.

“I haven't slept since they saved me,” Bakugou muttered, making Kirishima widen his eyes in
surprise.

“That was almost four days ago!” He exclaimed.

“I'm aware!” Bakugou snarled. “It's not like I've been getting regular sleep for the past four
years anyways. I just need a couple hours and I'll be fine.”

“Do you want me to leave and tell the others to leave you alone for a while?”

“No,” Bakugou denied. He looked at his bed, the door, then the window. “I want you to stay.
And not let anyone else in this room while I'm asleep. Okay? No one. Not even my mom or
that nurse grandma.”

Kirishima nodded. “Okay. I can do that. Let me just tell Eraserhead, he's been standing guard
at the door.”

As he went back to the door, Bakugou stood up on trembling legs and crawled into bed,
curling up as far from the edge closest to the door as possible and refusing to turn his back to
it. Kirishima grabbed some cleaner from the bathroom and used the towel to clean up the
mess from earlier as best as he could, washed his hands, then grabbed the chair and sat down
between the door and the bed, meeting Bakugou's tired eyes.

“I won't leave. You're safe,” he promised soothingly. “Nap as long as you need.”

“Fucking shitty hair,” Bakugou grumbled, but he let his eyes close.

Kirishima never moved from his chair, eyes watching Bakugou's steadily moving chest. He
glanced at the window every ten seconds, the door every five. He also eyed the clock
regularly, keeping track. Bakugou slept for one hour and twelve minutes before jerking
awake with a cacophony of shouting and explosions.

Kirishima figured it was a start. The healing would have to come with time.

…..

Two weeks later led to a few minor improvements.

Bakugou was willing to have his parents in the room and he'd talk to them a little, but they
had to use the hospital's strongest scent blockers and couldn't touch him. In fact, the Alpha
couldn't handle anyone touching him, which made the nurses unhappy since they needed to
do tests and check his vitals. Bakugou refused to cooperate though, and thus was currently IV
free and left them without any baselines to compare anything to.

He only slept when Kirishima was in the room and he promised to stay awake and alert. So
far he'd gotten up to two hours and twenty-six minutes of sleep at one time before waking to
violent and loud nightmares. It was progress, so Kirishima didn't say anything.

He would only eat foods with extreme tastes and even then was prone to throw up if
something set him off. He preferred super spicy, but he'd eat super sour or super salty foods
too. Kirishima noticed that he seemed to always avoid eating the meat in any dishes he
brought so he took to getting him more vegetable heavy or even fully vegetarian meals if he
could. He was working with Recovery Girl to make sure he got all the vitamins and nutrients
that he needed though, which was especially important since they had no way to track his
vitals. He didn't think Bakugou had caught on yet since he always scarfed his meal down
almost as soon as Kirishima procured it, but he wouldn't put it past him.

It was clear to Kirishima that Bakugou was brilliant. Behind his explosions and trauma, his
mind was a whirlwind, remembering random things Kirishima would've never thought a
second about and making connections to things Kirishima wouldn't have seen if Bakugou had
pointed them out. With that brilliance came boredom though and it was often, like now, that
Kirishima would enter the room to find Bakugou pacing the walls like a lion marking his
territory.

“It's so goddamn boring,” Bakugou griped, lying back on the bed. His parents had gotten him
some comfortable sweatpants and plain shirts that he'd started wearing instead of the hospital
gowns. They'd also brought him a few stuff from home: books that looked like they'd already
been read through, a computer Bakugou hesitated to touch for fear of stumbling on a news
article about him, and drawing supplies. Sometimes Bakugou would scribble madly onto the
paper but he refused to let Kirishima see any of his drawings.

“Do you want to try opening a window?” Kirishima asked. “Get some fresh air?”

His attempts to get Bakugou to branch out a little were far from subtle, but Kirishima wasn't
trying to trick him after all. He wanted to help the Alpha, not send him into another panic
attack. So far they'd gone almost a day and a half without one. Steep progress coming from
one every other hour.

Bakugou glanced at the window like it was his greatest enemy, narrowed eyes sizing it up.

“You're on the fifth floor. There’s very little chance that the scent of anyone who is walking
by will get in,” Kirishima pointed out gently.

“...Maybe a crack,” Bakugou relented, surprisingly. Kirishima hopped up and flipped the
locks, wiggling the window until it opened about five or six centimeters.
Bakugou hissed as light breeze wafted in, tensing like he'd been electrocuted. His nose flared
as he took in the scent of outside, eyes dilated and scanning the room for hidden enemies.
Kirishima stood by the window, waiting to see if he'd need to close it back again quickly.

“It's...okay,” Bakugou said after a moment, breathing in pointedly. “You can leave it open for
a little while.”

“Just let me know if it gets to be too much,” Kirishima offered, reclaiming his seat.

“You said UA was your turning point,” Bakugou said, mind probably connecting the
conversation somehow smoothly but for Kirishima it was a sudden change of topic, “what
happened that changed your mind? About your quirk?” He clarified when Kirishima still
seemed a little confused.

Kirishima hummed, thoughtful. “It was a couple things. I went through the entrance exam for
UA even though I didn't think I'd make it, but I actually did really well. It surprised me. Then
working with my classmates and seeing how they grew into their powers and came up with
unique ways to make them work kind of inspired me to work harder too. I got a pretty good
internship my first year and seeing first-hand herowork just made me want to push even
harder.”

He glanced down at his hands. “I guess the real turning point, if it can be called that, was the
first big mission I went on. It was a secret mission against the Yakuza. My mentor and I
teamed up with some of the other students and their mentors to try and save a little girl with
an amazing quirk they were abusing. Working beside them was…” he paused, trying to
remember what it felt like, the first time he'd truly felt like a hero. “It was indescribable. And
then there was this one guy who just kept beating me down, but even though my quirk broke,
I just kept getting back up until my mentor was able to finish him off. I had a hard time
seeing the positive of it then, thinking I'd been useless because I'd broken, but my mentor and
friends were able to help me realize that being a hero doesn’t mean you don't break. It means
you don't give up and you don't stay down.” He hit his fists together, grinning. “It's super
manly and that's the kind of hero I want to be! One that never gives up and never regrets!”

Bakugou stared at him for a moment before he snorted softly, rolling his eyes. Kirishima
would almost be willing to call it amusement in his eyes, and was that maybe the curl of a
restrained laugh on his lips?

“I'm not even surprised about any of that,” he said smoothly. “You're so ridiculous that it
matches perfectly.”

“Hey now,” Kirishima argued lightly, but he couldn't take offense to something that made
Bakugou looked so relaxed. “What about you? Where did you go to school?” he asked,
remembering the graduation photo.

“Shiketsu,” Bakugou said, looking out the window, face tensing and good humor gone from
his visage. “I wanted to go to UA, but my dad's job moved and we had to head West before
the entrance exam. I guess if I hadn't, we would've been classmates.”
“That would've been neat,” Kirishima commented carefully, feeling like he was suddenly
walking a mind field.

Bakugou looked down at his palms with a serious expression.

“I was an asshole then, especially in the beginning,” he said. “I found out another student
from my middle school made it into UA and it pissed me off to the point of insanity because
he was getting to go to my dream school and I wasn't. It didn't even matter that Shiketsu was
just as good of a school. I did a lot of stupid shit, not the least of which was showing out
during the yearly sports festival.”

Kirishima thought that he might vaguely remember that, even if it was so long ago. Everyone
watched the sports festivals the more prestigious hero schools had every year and there was
one year that a first year stole the show at Shiketsu. He was pretty sure that was the year that
the winner was chained to the podium and muzzled because he'd been so angry during the
awards ceremony. He remembered feeling angry on the student's behalf, furious that Shiketsu
would treat a student like that. It left a bad taste in his mouth knowing now that that had been
Bakugou.

“Apparently my bad attitude then was what made the League take an interest in me,”
Bakugou continued, instantly earning Kirishima's full attention once more. “They attacked
my class more than a few times through my three years of high school, testing me they told
me later, but they didn't try to ‘recruit’ me until after I graduated. Said they'd been waiting for
Shiketsu to teach me all their secrets so I could share them with them.”

“What?” Kirishima echoed in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Bakugou murmured, looking very sad, not that Kirishima would ever say anything
about it. “They said I already had the temperament of a villain. When they took me and I
didn't jump at the chance to join them, they were actually surprised. They tried to wear me
down for a few weeks, maybe months I'm not sure, but when they realized I wasn't going to
break easily All for One decided to put me in the fighting ring with other Alphas. Before
every fight he'd always tell me to get out of it all I had to do was swear loyalty to him and
join the League.”

Kirishima bit to lip to keep from interrupting and saying something that would upset him,
knowing Bakugou needed to get this off his chest. His fingers twitched and he curled them
into his pants to keep from reaching out to hug him.

“I don't know how many fights I was in. How long it took before...they tried other methods. I
guess they never really gave up to breaking me. They just got more...creative.” He glanced
away and Kirishima looked down at his hands to give him some privacy when he realized
tears were welling in his eyes. “I don't know how I didn't lose my mind. I still kind of think I
did, that this is all a dream and I'm going to wake up back in the ring.”

“You're safe, Bakugou,” Kirishima murmured quietly. “I promise.”

Bakugou blinked away the wetness in his eyes, grimacing. “You know, it's fucking stupid, but
for some goddamn reason, I trust you. All the people who've come waltzing in here trying to
 get me to talk and trying to poke and prod at me like a lab rat, and yet it's your crazy hair-for-
brains self that makes this all seem real. Doesn't make any fucking sense.”

“I'm glad you trust me,” Kirishima said. “I might not understand it any more than you do, but
I'm happy to help you however I can.”

Bakugou groaned, taking in a deep breath. “I hate this shit so much.”

“Agreed,” Kirishima said. He hated seeing Bakugou hurt like this. It made him want to cry or
go hunt All for One down in his cell and keep punching until he stopped moving.

“Can you close the window?” Bakugou asked, and Kirishima moved without comment to
close and lock it again. “I'm so tired,” Bakugou muttered. “I wish I could sleep.”

“Do you want me to see if the nurses will give you a sleeping pill?” Kirishima asked.

“I don't like them,” Bakugou growled. “Makes me feel out of control. Makes the nightmares
worse too because I can't wake up.”

“You need sleep,” Kirishima said. “Maybe they have something that'll keep you from
dreaming?”

“Maybe,” Bakugou relented. “You can ask them later. For now, could you just...stay there?”
He was blinking slowly, curling up on the bed and looking absolutely exhausted.

“Of course,” Kirishima agreed. “I'll keep watch.”

“Thanks, Kirishima,” he murmured, blinks growing longer as his breathing slowed. “You're a
good hero.”

Kirishima felt his face flush at the unexpected praise, and his heart thumped heavily in his
chest. It felt good to help, especially to help Bakugou who'd clearly been badly hurt and
needed it, but this feeling went beyond that. This was a burning need to do even more, to
comfort and protect and support and whatever else Bakugou needed. He didn't just want to be
a hero doing his job; he wanted to be Bakugou's friend. He hoped Bakugou did too.

Chapter End Notes

I'm kind of really actually nervous about this one, so if you wouldn't mind dropping a
comment and letting me know what you think? And if you'd like me to continue?

I majored in psychology in college and I don't get it use it much during my day job so I
like doing character studies like this that let me actually explore the psyche of my
favorite character and usually break them down before helping them get better. I have
full intentions to treating everything appropriately and without romanticizing this
process, so please let me know if you think I have failed to do that at any time.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Wow, I have been blown away by the positive response for this! I'm so glad you all are
interested and like how this started. Hopefully you'll like this chapter too!

Things are already getting heavy! CHAPTER WARNINGS IN END NOTES! PLEASE
PLEASE READ THEM AND PROTECT YOURSELF!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“The nurses said there's a medicine they can give you that should keep you from having
nightmares, but it can only be given by IV,” Kirishima said, taking his normal chair.

“Fuck that then,” Bakugou replied. “No one is stabbing me with anything.”

“If it could help you get some real sleep though,” Kirishima trailed off, looking at the dark
shadows around Bakugou's eyes that grew worse every day. “You really need some rest,
dude.”

Bakugou growled. “They're not hooking me up to a machine.”

“What about like a shot? Nothing that has to stay in your vein?”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you capable of giving a shot?”

Kirishima frowned, confused. “No?”

“Then no,” he decided.

Kirishima blinked, realization washing over him that Bakugou trusted him enough to
consider letting him give him a shot. Holy shit. Wow. That was huge.

“Bakugou,” he said, leaning forward to balance his elbows on his knees. “Recovery Girl is
the best, seriously. She would never hurt you. I would trust her with my life a thousand times
over. I have, actually.”

Bakugou was wavering, Kirishima could see it. His exhaustion was great, his desire to keep
away the nightmares nearing desperate levels.

“Please,” he tried begging quietly. “I swear to you I'll be here the whole time and won't leave
you until you wake up. You need sleep.”
“You don't leave for anything, I don't care if a bomb goes off outside,” Bakugou ordered
harshly. “I swear, Kirishima, if I find out you left me while I'm—”

“I promise,” Kirishima said quietly.

Bakugou inhaled shakily, audibly gulping as his hands clenched into the sheets. “I'll...try.
Tomorrow. I don't know how it'll go but...I'll try.”

“That's all I ask,” Kirishima said, “if this doesn't help, you'll never have to do it again. We’ll
figure something else out.”

Bakugou nodded jerkily.

They both jumped as a knock came from the door and moments later Bakugou’s parents
came through.

“Katsuki, we brought you dinner,” Masaru said, showing a Tupperware of food. He smiled
sheepishly at Kirishima. “I'm afraid we didn't think to bring enough for you too, Kirishima.”

Kirishima waved him off, standing. “That's okay, I think I'll head out actually, let you guys
get some family time.”

“You don't have to leave,” Bakugou spoke up, making Kirishima glance back in surprise.

“Oh. Well. I didn't want to intrude, but—”

“Of course you're not intruding,” Mitsuki interrupted, smiling and pushing Kirishima back
into the chair while dragging up the two extras for herself and Masaru. “Besides, we’d like to
get to know the hero who saved our son,” she added.

“Ah, well technically, I was just on the infiltration team; I didn't do the actual rescue part,”
Kirishima pointed out embarrassedly.

“We mean after that,” Mitsuki corrected. “Here, in the hospital. Katsuki's...had a hard time,
but I understand you've been making it better.”

“Literally right here, mom,” Bakugou grumbled.

Mitsuki laughed and smirked teasingly at her son. Kirishima was swept away by how similar
they looked and wondered what Bakugou would sound like if he ever genuinely laughed.
Mitsuki seemed to glow right then with the simple knowledge that her son was safe.
Kirishima hoped Bakugou could be that relaxed and happy one day. He was going to do his
best to get him there.

“I made your favorite,” Masaru offered the Tupperware to Bakugou, who ripped the lid off
and inhaled the released aroma of spices. Kirishima coughed, turning to the side at the
sudden onslaught of spice into the air.
“Weak,” Bakugou teased him before quickly digging into the food per his usual gusto. He
paused after a moment though, looking down at the strips of meat in the food with an odd
look on his face.

“Katsuki?” Masaru asked. “Is something wrong?”

Bakugou swallowed the food in his mouth audibly, taking a shaky inhale. Kirishima felt like
he was watching everything in slow motion. He glanced to the garbage can, already reaching
and dragging it forward as Bakugou turned pale and wretched into the can over the side of the
bed. Mitsuki and Masaru both went into a flurry of motion, grabbing a towel and a glass of
water, concern on both of their faces.

Bakugou spat into the garbage can, taking the water from his father and swishing some in his
mouth before spitting it out and drinking the rest. Kirishima was sadly used to this part too
and he didn't even falter, grabbing the plastic bag and tying it up before setting it in the larger
covered can for disposable waste by the door and grabbing a new bag to put back in the can.

“Was...something wrong with it?” Masaru asked carefully.

“Maybe no more beef,” Bakugou murmured, looking down at it before putting the lid back
over the food and sliding it away. He sighed, disappointed.

“You want something else?” Kirishima asked.

“Later,” Bakugou said.

Mitsuki leaned forward, eyes serious. “How are you really doing?”

Bakugou shrugged, looking away from all three of them. “Tired. Bored.”

Mitsuki didn't look like she believed him, frowning, and Kirishima wondered if maybe he
should step out for a moment, give Bakugou a little privacy with his parents.

“Do you want us to bring you anything else from home?” Masaru interrupted before Mitsuki
could start interrogating him and make the situation worse. Kirishima was beginning to
understand his role in this family, the Omega clearly used to walking the line between both
Alphas.

“No,” Bakugou said, a hint of a growl in his voice.

“Oh,” Mitsuki said suddenly, smiling brightly. “I ran into Inko the other day and she said
Izuku had heard about you being rescued. She said he wanted to come visit, if you were up to
it. He was really relieved.”

Bakugou's eyes widened and he made a growling hissing sound, instantly on edge. “Fucking
Deku. No!” He barked, fangs flashing.

Kirishima's brow furrowed. Deku? Surely Bakugou wasn't talking about Midoriya Izuku? But
wasn't Midoriya's mom named Inko?
Mitsuki frowned at him. “Izuku is your oldest friend,” she chided.

“Deku is not my friend!” Bakugou spat. “He's never been my friend! He just wants to see
how pathetic I've gotten!”

That didn't sound like Midoriya at all…

“Katsuki, Izuku doesn't—”

“Don't even fucking talk about him!” Bakugou screeched.

Wait, didn't Midoriya say when they were choosing hero names back in school that ‘Deku’
was an unfortunate name he got during his childhood? Kirishima had a bad feeling about this
line of discussion.

“You're acting like a brat! I thought you had grown out of this!” Mitsuki yelled back.

“Why don't you just leave?!” Bakugou demanded, waving towards the door angrily.

“Quit being a little shit and talk to me!” Mitsuki shouted, and Kirishima felt the urge to get
between them as Mitsuki started to posture, Bakugou echoing her aggressive stance.

“I'm not talking to you about shit!”

“If you don't want to be a damn villain than quit acting like one!”

Kirishima's eyes widened and he jumped to his feet on autopilot, all thoughts of Midoriya
leaving his brain for now.

“Out,” he demanded, herding the surprised Mitsuki and Masaru towards the door with his
body. He didn't even look at Bakugou, completely focused on getting them out of the Alpha's
territory.

“What?” Mitsuki said, trying to get around him to continue the argument. Kirishima steeled
his expression, hardening shifting across his exposed skin as he refused to let her pass,
forcing her to step back towards the door. Masaru just looked disappointed as he followed the
direction without putting up an argument. Mitsuki growled. “What do you think you're
doing?” She demanded, trying to stand her ground although Kirishima's steady advance didn't
allow her to start a true Alpha posture as she couldn't get her feet grounded.

“Leave. Now. You can come back tomorrow but this conversation is over for today.”

“You can't tell me—”

“I can and I have,” Kirishima cut her off evenly. “You're leaving. If you don't do so
peacefully then I'll have security escort you out,” he said. He gestured to the door with his
chin.

“I'm his mother—”

“Bakugou Katsuki is of legal age and you have no authority here,” Kirishima informed her
matter-of-factly.

“And who are you to—”

Kirishima grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open, nearly vibrating to keep himself
from physically pushing the woman out. He raised himself to his full height, a pale mimicry
of an Alpha posture but overall effective considering his larger frame and how much his hero
training allowed him to pile on muscle. Masaru grabbed Mitsuki's hand and tugged her back,
outside of the door frame. Kirishima slammed the door shut in their faces, closing his eyes
and taking a few breaths to calm down.

He didn't really know what to expect when he turned around to face Bakugou, but seeing the
Alpha staring wide-eyed at the wall in front of him seemingly in shock was not a pleasant
sight. He walked carefully to the Alpha's side, wanting to take his hand but knowing that was
a colossally bad idea. He pressed his hand onto the bed instead, shifting the mattress with his
weight and earning Bakugou's attention. His eyes were prickling with wetness, his lip
trembling, and Kirishima's heart ached.

“You are not acting like a villain,” Kirishima swore vehemently.

“I…”

“You're not,” Kirishima repeated. “And I would know, right? What would your mom know?
She's the one acting like a brat,” he added the last sentence more as a bitter mutter but
Bakugou still heard him, weakly managing a mild snort of humor. His eyes were still wet and
he blinked it away, breathing slowly through his mouth before nodding.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “That's how she is.”

“So I've noticed,” Kirishima said dryly, still remembering that disaster of first meeting.

“Thanks,” Bakugou said. Kirishima nodded.

“Don't have to thank me, but you're welcome.”

A light scowl crossed Bakugou's features and he looked away. “Right. Part of your job, I
guess.”

Kirishima frowned. “What? No, you're not a job, Bakugou.”

Bakugou eyed him skeptically. “Kirishima, you've been here every day for three weeks now.
You're a hero. Obvious I'm your current assignment or you wouldn't have time to just sit
around like this. I'm not an idiot.”

“I'd never say you were,” Kirishima denied. “And yeah, right now I am assigned to you, but
you're not just a job, dude. I'd like to think we're friends? Or at least maybe could be?” he
asked unsurely.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You're a weird hero,” he said.

Kirishima smiled. That hadn't been a negative response. Progress.

“Why'd you react like that?” Bakugou asked after a moment.

“Because she was wrong,” Kirishima said. “And you've dealt with enough shit like that.”

Bakugou looked away. “Not like it's the first time she's said something like that.”

“Well it better be the last,” Kirishima said seriously.

Bakugou glanced at him from the corner of his eye, clearly surprised. He seemed to settle
after a moment, imperceptibly relaxing. It was as close to a smile as Kirishima had seen on
his face yet.

…..

“This will just be a small prick, you shouldn't feel much pain,” Recovery Girl said, standing
at Bakugou's side with the needle holding the medicine that would hopefully help him sleep.
Bakugou eyed her like he was seconds from either attacking her or bolting. Kirishima sat on
his other side and he reached up, setting his hand a little ways from Bakugou's, palm up in a
blatant offer. Bakugou growled under his breath, hissing as he exhaled. He swiped
Kirishima's palm up in his own roughly and squeezed tightly.

It was the first time Bakugou had touched him other than when he was having an attack and
shooting off explosions. His palms were calloused, rough, and pretty sweaty. Kirishima
squeezed back just as hard and Bakugou shakily breathed, tense. His fingers were trembling
and Kirishima wished he could do more.

“Okay,” Bakugou said.

Recovery Girl nodded, easing closer and brushing Bakugou's skin with a sterile wipe.
Bakugou gritted his teeth so hard Kirishima could hear them grinding and he winced in
sympathy. Kirishima's fingers were nearly white from his blood flow being cut off due to
Bakugou's tight grip but he'd never dream of telling the other to loosen up.

Recovery Girl neared the needle, hovering over Bakugou's skin and looking at him to check.
Bakugou hissed an exhale and quickly nodded. Recovery Girl slid the needle under his skin
smoothly, easily administering the medicine before sliding it back out without any fanfare or
difficulties.

“You should sleep dreamlessly for a few hours with this level of dosage,” Recovery Girl
repeated what they both already knew, quickly covering the welling drop of blood with a
cotton ball and band-aid before moving out of Bakugou's space.

“I promise I'll be here the whole time,” Kirishima said as Bakugou's eyes hooded.

Bakugou hummed and his body started to relax against the mattress, falling into the darkness
of unconsciousness.

…..
Bakugou had never known hunger like this. It gnawed at his insides, felt like his spine was
eating his stomach. His stomach didn't growl; his body was beyond wasting energy for such
useless pleas. His hands shook and he saw black spots but he refused to tremble in front of
the man he hated more than anything.

"Just say the word, young Bakugou, and your suffering will be over," All for One said, and
his voice echoed in Bakugou's head.

"Never," Bakugou said, and he smiled. It was more a baring of teeth—yellowed and dirty
within his sunken, bloody gums—but All for One scowled and Bakugou knew the insult had
been received. Only one other person had always smiled in his face, the only person All for
One had failed to destroy even if he had caused him to retire. All Might had smiled even then.
Bakugou remembered. All for One's hands tightened into fists with frustration and Bakugou
hoped he hit him, hoped he wouldn't stop. Maybe then this would be over: the pain, the
screams, the hunger.

"Then thrive in your suffering," One for All said instead, not quite keeping the frustration
from his tone. Bakugou cherished the little things, like still being able to get on the villain's
nerves. It was a temporary respite though as All for One left and the door to his cage opened
to the ring.

The sounds were always loud. Bakugou was sure he'd go deaf if he continued to be exposed
to such extremes, deafening silence and jarring screams. Not just the cheers and shouts from
the crowds, but also the screams of his opponents, the ones unlucky enough to become All for
One's sacrifices in an attempt to make Bakugou break.

Bakugou's empty stomach had no bile to give when his eyes settled on his opponent this time,
but god did he wish he did. He couldn't afford to think about them, to personalize them, to
pity them, but she was just a child. She looked at him with fear and tried to back away,
pressed against the wall and bore her still underdeveloped fangs at him in desperation,
cornered prey, and through the stench of so many wretched bodies in the air he could still
make out her scent. It was sweet, heavy on his tongue like chocolate and strawberries, and he
knew he was facing an Omega.

"You have two choices, young Bakugou," All for One intoned from his usual seat, sitting high
above the ring. It was like a throne, allowing him to look down on his subjects and pawns.
Bakugou heard him through the shouts and jeers, knew what those two choices were because
he'd been given them every time an Omega was put before him in the ring instead of an
Alpha.

Fuck or kill.

Bakugou hated him. He didn't want to do this. He wanted to be a hero. He couldn't...he

couldn't do this...All for One couldn't make him...

"Make your choice, or we'll do it for you," a villain called out, licking his lips and looking
ready to jump into the ring himself as he eyed the Omega like a snack.
The Omega screamed like all the rest as Bakugou leapt onto her, hands curling around her
throat and pressing, pressing, pressing. Her scream cut off with a wet gurgle and his claws
dug into the skin of her neck, blood spilling over. She weakly scratched at him, clearly not
used to fighting, and Bakugou didn't even bother dodging her claws. Her eyes rolled, her
scent soured, and the villains above him laughed. They may give him two choices, but he
would only ever choose this. This way only he had to live with the weight of his crimes,
although sometimes he wished someone would wrap their hands around his neck and absolve
him.

…..

He didn't know how long it had been since he'd been fed, but he knew it had to have been at
least a week. He wasn't fed after fights anymore. He was weak, but still not broken. He smiled
at All for One every time the man spoke to him after a fight. All for One still didn't hit him
though, only laughed.

"Young Bakugou," All for One said, entering his cage as usual before another match.

Bakugou’s grin was almost a reflex at this point, a spiteful instinct brought on by the villain’s
voice.

"Aren't you hungry?" the man asked, a change in routine. Bakugou didn't like that. The man
had a tease in his tone, a smirk on his lips. "Just say the word."

Was this their new tactic? To starve him to death? He wanted to laugh. It was fine by him. He
could die in peace, his shitty body not even being given an option. For some reason it wanted
him to live, fighting with every cell even as his mind wished to just die already.

"Fine then," All for One shrugged, leaving the room before the door to the ring opened.

This Alpha was strong, and Bakugou had to use his quirk. He pressed explosions against the
other Alpha's skin and he snarled. The other Alpha was transformed into some dog-like
creature and the fur caught aflame from the sparks. Bakugou kept pressing, kept exploding,
and nearly drooled as cooked meat overwhelmed his senses.

Bakugou flinched back, letting the Alpha go and backing away in horror. The other Alpha
rolled on the ground uselessly, screaming and yowling, trying to put out the flames in his fur
and failing as they overtook him. He stopped moving after a moment, flames crackling as the
scent of meat wafted through the air. It was sour, pungent, disgusting, and yet Bakugou's
mouth watered and his stomach cramped.

He backed up to the door that led to his cage like all the matches before, wanting out of the
ring now that the deed was done, but it didn't open. Bakugou's mind was whirling, too much
happening, the crowd was jeering, laughing, and Bakugou felt sick.

The man had transformed back into a human but his charred flesh had remained and the
scent of cooked meat still tempted Bakugou with its scent.
"Young Bakugou," All for One spoke from his throne, and Bakugou looked up at him. He was
smirking. "Aren't you hungry?"

…..

The ring was set up different this time. Bakugou didn't like when things got different. It meant
something impossibly worse was coming.

He wasn't an idiot. The minute he spotted the item in the middle of the ring, he knew there
was one of two ways this was going to go and both might just break him. He tried to jump
back into his own cage, but they'd already closed the door.

The Omega they dragged in by a collar was weeping silently, covered in bruises and
scratches and scars. He was young, very young, and his sweet scent was laced with misery,
hopelessness, and fear. Bakugou remained against the wall as far from them as he could, not
understanding how he would be forced to do this and knowing that somehow All for One had
probably come up with something.

All for One was smirking from his throne and there wasn't as many spectators for this event.
Bakugou didn't know if that made it better or worse.

The Omega didn't fight them setting him up. The breeding bench looked uncomfortable,
straps tight against his skin and matching the bruises that were already there. There was also
distinctive hand-shaped bruises around his hips. He was bare to the world—they all were;
Bakugou couldn't remember the last time he wore clothes. The Omega's hole was slicked by
fear alone no doubt and not of any enjoyment and Bakugou looked away in disgust.

Another cage was revealed but not opened and the Alpha inside snarled wildly, pressing close
to the bars and howling. The Omega trembled as much as he could strapped to the bench and
All for One looked at Bakugou.

"Either you do it, or he will," he said, gesturing to the caged larger Alpha, some kind of
creature beyond human. His claws were out, scratching at the bars in a frenzy and his fangs
bared. His nostrils were flaring, taking in the Omega's scent. Bakugou could see his hard
dick through the cage, longer than Bakugou's forearm and thicker than a soda can.

The Omega wouldn't survive that encounter.

Bakugou looked back over at him, seeing the Omega's defeated expression, pained eyes,
continuous tears trailing with his head hung low. Accepting whatever pain was to come.

The Omega wouldn't survive either way.

Bakugou walked as slowly as possible towards the Omega, laughter picking up from the
smaller crowd, a few whistles and calls. He stepped behind the bare Omega and his hands
covered the bruises on his hips. He didn't squeeze, leaning forward and trailing them up the
Omega's sides, around his chest, up further, completely surrounding him, almost like an
embrace. His dick was limp and he snarled silently as his leaning forward made it touch the
Omega's butt-cheek, fighting off the wretch of disgust. The Omega whined and Bakugou
curled his hands around his throat.

The Omega was dead before they managed to pull Bakugou off of him.

They let the other Alpha out of his cage out of spite. Bakugou killed him too, tearing into his
throat with his teeth and spraying blood against the ring's wall.

Bakugou grinned at All for One and his teeth were bloody. The villain wasn't smirking
anymore.

…..

They sedated him and Bakugou knew whatever he woke up to wasn't going to be pleasant.

He was in straps, forced to lie down on his back on a cold piece of metal, a reverse of a
breeding bench. He shivered, unable to move a millimeter. All for One walked through the
door and Bakugou barely managed to bite his tongue, holding in his pleas. It didn't matter if
he begged them not to do this; they would only accept his complete surrender, his total
shattering. And he refused to give that to them.

But still, he was afraid. He was terrified. He knew he would never be whole after this.

All for One's touch on his head surprised him and he tried to jerk away, the strap around his
throat choking him and making him still. All for One smirked, petting his filthy hair. "Just say
the words, young Bakugou," he said. Just like always.

"Fuck you," Bakugou croaked, forcing a grin even though his lips trembled with fear.

All for One tutted at him, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "I do believe you mean
fuck you," he said, and Bakugou was momentarily startled by the curse, used to the man's
polished tongue and suave tone, so much so that he didn't catch the connotation of the words
themselves until All for One had left once more and a newcomer entered.

She looked around his age, maybe a little older, he couldn't be sure. She was blond, smelt like
an Omega, but what earned most of his attention was the fact that she was clean, holding a
knife, and very clearly not a prisoner.

"We're going to have so much fun, Baku-chan," she sang, face flushed in excitement and she
practically drooled as she stared at his naked, bound body.

In a desperate move, Bakugou lengthened his fangs and bit into his tongue, flooding his
mouth with blood and choking. He swallowed as much as his body would let him get down
before it came flooding back and he was puking uncontrollably. She stomped her foot,
screaming in anger as he suffocated; drowning himself in his own blood and vomit was better
than this, better than being raped.
…..

He came to back in his cage. He had a muzzle on, the hard metal digging into his face and
forcing a metal bar into his mouth and over his tongue like a horse's bit so he couldn't close
his mouth.

But they hadn't secured his hands.

Bakugou knew what he had to do if he wanted to keep this from happening again. They were
going to keep trying, keep getting more creative, and Bakugou was smart but he couldn't keep
this up forever, finding loopholes in their plans. Eventually, they would find some way to rape
him or either force him to rape someone else, to pass along his genes and give a new
generation some morphing of his quirk that All for One could raise and shape however he
wished.

Bakugou closed his eyes and clenched his teeth against the bit in his mouth. He shook with
fear, tears pricking his eyes. He didn't want to do what he was about to do, he was so scared,
god, he just wanted to go home. A sob broke through his control and he curled himself up
tight, biting down on the metal and trying to stop his shaking.

Bakugou forced in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He lengthened his claws. He
spread his legs. He sunk his claws into his testicles and lit an explosion against his dick.

He screamed and screamed and screamed.

…..

They found him before he bled out. They managed to save his dick, but his testicles were lost
causes and they removed them without any sedative. Bakugou hadn't even known he'd
possessed the ability to hurt like that and survive, let alone do it to himself.

When he saw All for One again, the man was furious. His shoulders were tight and he wasn't
smirking.

Bakugou grinned at him from behind the muzzle, strung up and strapped into a chair so much
he could barely move to breathe. In this, at least, he'd won. All that they did to him, all of this
man's grand plans, but they couldn't force him to breed, not anymore. Bakugou only wished
he'd thought to do it sooner.

"You think you've won?" All for One asked, tone ominously level. "The only thing you've done
is secured your fate. We would've let you die after you'd passed on your genes, your quirk,"
he told him slowly, walking forward. "But now, you will never die. You will remain here,
under my control, my command, and I will break you piece by piece until you don't recognize
yourself. I will mold you into my weapon. You will never die, but you will never know peace
and you will never be free. You are a villain, young Bakugou, and I will make you realize it.
Make you embrace it."

Bakugou only continued grinning. "I am a hero because I won," he said, voice rough and
mouth slurring as he tried to speak through the bit in the muzzle. "Plus ultra,” he added just
for spite.

Bakugou blinked, dazed as he reeled from the slap, head jarred against the chair and lolling
on his neck as he tried to orient himself. He'd finally managed to piss All for One off enough
that the man had hit him. Another victory.

All for One stormed from the room and Bakugou tucked that little spark of hero pride close to
his heart, shielding it from the darkness and hoping it would keep him warm in the future
because he knew this would be his last win against All for One until he died.

…..

Bakugou woke up screaming, nearly leaping from the hospital bed. He howled, claws tearing
into his own arms as he slammed into the white walls surrounding him.

“Bakugou!”

Strong hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him away from the wall before warm arms
wrapped him up to keep him from hurting himself further. Bakugou's breath hitched as the
naturally muted scent of a Beta enveloped him, spritzed only with the smell of something
fresh and clean.

“Kirishima,” he sputtered, before sobbing into the man's chest. Kirishima maneuvered him
until he was facing him, holding him close.

“I've got you,” Kirishima murmured, over and over, heart breaking at the complete despair
coming from the Alpha.

“The medicine didn't work,” Bakugou choked out into Kirishima's shoulder.

Kirishima nodded, pressing Bakugou somehow closer. Bakugou had slept for almost five
hours but he'd slept like the dead, without a single movement or shift. Kirishima had thought
it seemed unnatural, forced, and when the blond had suddenly jerked awake as if he'd been
locked down for hours, he already knew that Bakugou's sleep had been far peaceful.

Bakugou hid his face under Kirishima's neck, wordlessly pulling the Beta down until
Kirishima was sitting on the floor against the wall and Bakugou was curled in his lap,
trembling. Kirishima held him tighter and didn't bother wiping his own tears that tracked
down his face as Bakugou wept silently into his shirt. He didn't know what to say, what to do,
but Bakugou seemed to want to be held so Kirishima held him. It was all he could do.

…..

Bakugou passed out from exhaustion about an hour later and Kirishima blinked slowly, his
own tiredness creeping up. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly four in the morning. He
sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall, pulling Bakugou closer until the
Alpha's head was resting more comfortably against his shoulder. He would wait until
Bakugou woke up and then he'd head out, grab something to eat on his way home, take a
shower, sleep. This was the longest he'd spent at the hospital at one time and it was weighing
on him. He cared about Bakugou and wanted to help the Alpha however he could but he
couldn't keep giving all of himself without taking the time to recharge.

He really wished Bakugou would talk to a therapist or some kind of professional. He didn't
know what he was doing and he felt kind of like a bull in a China shop trying not to break
anything. It was stressful, demanding, and highly draining.

“...’shima?” Bakugou slurred against the skin of his throat, voice gruff and still sounding
tired.

“I'm here,” Kirishima murmured, hands rubbing up and down Bakugou's arm without
thought. “You're safe.”

Bakugou snuggled closer and Kirishima felt him nod against him, his hands curling tight in
Kirishima's damp shirt.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered against Kirishima's skin.

“Not your fault,” Kirishima assured him.

“I'm making your life hell,” Bakugou denied, even as he clutched him impossibly tighter.

“Not hell,” Kirishima murmured, “Explosive.”

Bakugou snorted, falling into a delirious giggling fit. Kirishima smiled tiredly until the
giggles morphed into breathless sobs.

“I'm such a fuck-up. I wish that crazy bastard had just killed me,” Bakugou cried and
Kirishima's heart ached.

“Hey, hey, please don’t say that,” he tried, moving to try and wipe some of Bakugou's tears
away. “You're not a fuck-up. You're hurting. It's okay to still be hurting after all everything
you've been through.”

Bakugou sniffled, resting against Kirishima's chest and forcing himself to breathe slowly.

“If you knew what I did, you would hate me,” Bakugou whispered.

“Never,” Kirishima whispered back against his hair.

“I hate me,” Bakugou said.

“Then I'll like you doubly so until you catch on.”

Bakugou shook his head weakly. “You don't—”

“Bakugou, I'm not an idiot,” Kirishima said gently, closing his eyes. “Maybe I didn't see your
setup, but I saw some of them. You aren't the only Alpha who was rescued from that
warehouse. I know what they had to do to survive. I can make a pretty good guess as to what
you had to do to survive.”

Bakugou trembled.

“It's not your fault.”

“If I hadn't acted like a villain—”

“Not your fault.”

“But I—”

“Not. Your. Fault.”

“I could've—”

Kirishima cupped his hand against his chin, forcing Bakugou to look up into his eyes.

“Not. Your. Fault.”

Bakugou started at him like he didn't believe him, but he didn't say anything.

“I'll say it as many times as I need to until it sticks,” Kirishima said, pulling Bakugou close
and shutting his eyes again. “Now try to rest for a little bit. The sun isn't even up yet.”

Bakugou didn't argue and Kirishima did feel him slowly relaxing in his hold. Kirishima’s
back and neck hurt like a bitch, his legs were going to sleep, and he was exhausted, but this
was progress.

…..

Kirishima left the hospital around seven after Bakugou finally ate something for breakfast. Or
really, Bakugou made Kirishima leave, telling him to ‘get his ass home and do something
about those god-awful bags under his eyes.’

Kirishima did just that, eating some taiyaki from a street vender on his walk home before
passing out in his bed as soon as he fell on it, barely managing to even pull off his shoes. He
woke after nine hours of hibernation, feeling hungry but well-rested.

Kirishima padded into the kitchen, whipping up something simple for an early dinner. He ate
over the sink, body grateful for the warm food, and he left the dishes there to soak while he
went to take a shower.

Feeling refreshed, he stepped out in his towel and didn't bother with clothes, instead just
donning a pair of boxer-briefs and setting about cleaning the kitchen. Then he lounge on the
couch, sighing.

His life was about a thousand times more complicated now than it was a few weeks ago and
he honestly didn't know what he was going to do. He was a fairly popular hero, had worked
really hard to break the top twenty, and his agency wasn't going to let him be assigned as
Bakugou's security blanket forever. He honestly wasn't sure if they'd give him another month.
He could use some of his leave time, but he didn't want to be a crutch to Bakugou either.
Kirishima had limits on what he could help the Alpha with and the longer he let Bakugou
cling to him as his only resource the worst they'd both be. Still, the idea of abandoning him
hurt so much he couldn't breathe, there was no way that was happening.

He wished he knew more about this stuff and could help more.

Kirishima figured the best thing may be to talk to Bakugou about it, get his opinion. The guy
had had so many decisions made for him lately, honestly the more he thought about it the
more he was sure that was the right thing to do.

He glanced at the clock and figured now was a good a time as any. He went to get dressed,
trying to decide where was he going to stop to get Bakugou something for dinner.

…..

“So I'm not actually your assignment,” Bakugou said between slurps of the spicy noodles
Kirishima had brought.

“You are, but considering the nature of these things, my agency isn't going to let me be here
indefinitely,” he said, leaning his elbows on the bed. “I'll still be coming around even after
that, but it won't be as often and I didn't want I blindside you with it.”

Bakugou hummed, those intelligent eyes swirling with thoughts Kirishima wished he would
share.

“Okay,” he said finally, cupping his bowl and drinking the rest of the broth.

“Okay?” Kirishima repeated, confused.

“Yeah, okay. I've just got to get my shit together then,” Bakugou shrugged.

Kirishima blinked. That was not at all the super intelligent response he was expecting. That
didn't solve anything.

“That's...I mean. That'd be great. But expecting yourself to just ‘get your shit together’
doesn't seem like—”

“No, no, I know what I'm doing,” Bakugou waved him off.

Kirishima eyed him dubiously. “Bakugou. I don't want to be That Guy and point out the
multiple reasons you can't just get over what happened, but—”

“Then don't,” Bakugou interrupted him, glaring.

Kirishima sighed. This wasn't as helpful as he thought it would be. He crossed his arms on
the bed and laid his head on them, looking up at Bakugou.
“You'll at least call me, right? If you need me? You know I'll come, right?”

Bakugou slumped. “I know, hair-for-brains. But I'll be fine. I'm not some weakling who can't
do anything.”

“Dude, you're the strongest guy I've ever met, you don't ever have to worry about me
thinking you're weak,” Kirishima said, shaking his head. “But asking for help doesn't make
you weak. It's manly to admit that you need help.”

Bakugou snorted. “That manly shit again,” he teased.

“And besides,” Kirishima continued on pointedly, “it's not like I'm talking about tomorrow.
This is a couple weeks from now, probably. I just wanted to go ahead and let you know the
situation.”

Bakugou nodded, setting the bowl on the side table and looking down at his hands. “If I
could just figure out how to get some damn sleep I'd be fine,” Bakugou determined.

“Has anything helped?” Kirishima asked.

Bakugou shrugged. “Not that I can tell.”

“Have you tried talking to any of the doctors?”

“Fuck them,” Bakugou growled.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima tried reluctantly. “They're the professionals. They might know
something—”

“They also said that medicine was supposed to make me sleep without dreams,” Bakugou
refuted. “Big fat lie that that was.”

“They said it should. They couldn't have known how your body would process it exactly.”

“What, are you so tired of me that you're just trying to pawn me off the next available
person?” Bakugou spat.

Kirishima startled as if he'd been struck. “What? Of course not! What the hell gave you that
idea? I just want to help.”

“Well you're sitting there telling me how you won't be able to come as much and you keep
wanting me to talk to other people and reach out and trust them or whatever. What else am I
supposed to think? You're not subtle, you know. You want to leave? Fine! Go!” Bakugou
snapped.

Kirishima shook his head. “Bakugou, no, that's not it at all,” he denied. “I'm just not trained
to deal with this kind of stuff; I don't want to make things worse for you!”

“If you're going to leave, just leave already!”

“I'm not leaving you!” Kirishima yelled back. “I've already told you, even after my
assignment is up, I still plan on coming to see you. You're my friend, I care about you, okay?
But I know my limits. I can't...I don't know what to do to help you.”

“You can help me by getting the fuck out of my room!” Bakugou barked.

“Bakugou, please,” Kirishima begged quietly, trying to calm him down as he recognized the
beginning of Bakugou working himself up and starting to posture threateningly.

“If you didn't want to be here why did you even waste your time?” Bakugou shouted. “Does
it make you feel like a hero, huh? Making yourself needed, making the poor weak Alpha rely
on you? But then it's not fun anymore and shit gets real and you just bail out, huh? Well I'm
sorry I'm not your perfect little rescue doll that you can just pawn off to someone else!”
Bakugou had tears in his eyes now and Kirishima felt his own tears welling and, shit, they
were both about to cry weren't they? Bakugou's breath hitched. “I'm sorry I can't trust any of
these other shitheads, I don't know why you're the only one who makes me feel safe, and I
know that's a shitty, heavy thing to put on you—I don't even really know you, fuck—you
didn't sign up for my shit when you went on that rescue mission.”

Kirishima nudged his hand carefully and Bakugou grabbed it with both of his, curling over
Kirishima's hand and pressing it to his forehead as he cried.

“You're not a burden,” Kirishima murmured, sniffling. “I promise I won't abandon you. If you
need more time than my agency can give me then I've got a lot of leave saved up. But I don't
want to be a crutch either and hold you back. I see how strong you are, Bakugou. You are so
amazing, to have lived through what you have and still shine so bright, and I wish you would
give yourself the credit you deserve.”

Bakugou shook his head in denial. “You're so full of shit,” he croaked.

“I'm not,” Kirishima refuted, leaning closer. “I know you can get past this, Bakugou. I know
they hurt you in ways I don't know and probably can't understand, but you are seriously so
strong. You just need time and the right kind of help, but I know you will heal if for no other
reason than spite. I hear that's a good motivator for some people.”

Bakugou snorted, glancing up at him from under his bangs with weakly shimmering eyes.
“You're such an asshole,” he said gruffly, but his tone was practically fond.

Kirishima smiled. “How about this: we can meet any of your potential doctors together, and
if you don't like them at any point, you just let me know and we'll leave, no questions asked.”

Bakugou squeezed his hand, exhaling before he set his jaw determinedly and nodded.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “That might be okay.”

Kirishima didn't understand it, watching Bakugou literally force himself to calm down and
move forward. It was clear as day to him that the Alpha held so much inner strength; hell,
he’d been held captive for four years by the world's worst villain and was still not broken. He
couldn't understand how he couldn't see how amazing he was. He would just have to keep
telling him until Bakugou started seeing it himself, he guessed.
Chapter End Notes

Chapter warnings: trypanophobia, graphic violence, murder, implied/referenced

cannibalism, attempted/mentioned rape, vomiting, graphic self-mutilation

(let me know if you notice something I should add as a chapter warning)

And now we get into the real nitty gritty. I don't intend to have heavy flashbacks in
every chapter, but I figure I might as well go ahead and bite the bullet and show just
what sort of things I'm thinking when I say Bakugou's been through the ringer. I hope
you guys will stick with me as I flesh all this out!
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

CHAPTER WARNINGS IN END NOTES

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Bakugou eyed the door, hand in Kirishima's and breath close to hyperventilating.

“Easy,” Kirishima murmured. Bakugou nodded, forcing his breathing to slow. “Doctor Kurin
is just down the hall. The room has already been cleaned of any scents and she's wearing
scent blockers. You only have to walk down the hall. I'll be with you the whole time.”

“I fucking know all of that; shut up, hair for brains,” Bakugou grumbled under his breath,
taking a shaky inhale. “We've only have this scheduled for days now.”

Kirishima squeezed his hand and Bakugou squeezed back. Then the Alpha twisted the door
knob and stepped outside his hospital room for the first time in almost a month.

Scents didn't mean as much to a Beta as they did to Alphas and Omegas, so Kirishima really
didn't have a good reference for what Bakugou was going through as the Alpha stood in the
doorframe and his nostrils flared, brows furrowing as he processed the myriad of scents in the
hospital's hallway. His hand was squeezing Kirishima's so tightly that he could feel his racing
heartbeat. Most of the staff was aware of this attempted excursion so while they tried for
normalcy, they were moving slower and trying not to crowd the Alpha without being too
obvious about it.

Bakugou nodded to himself and took a step forward. Then another. Kirishima followed at his
side, so very proud.

Doctor Kurin was only eight doors down and Kirishima heard Bakugou counting under his
breath as they passed each one. Most were closed for privacy, but when they came to one that
was open, Bakugou would hold his breath. It wasn't a requirement for people to wear scent
blockers and some didn't. The population was honestly mixed about them, even if a lot of
Alphas and Omegas said it helped for people to wear them when people worked in close
quarters. Some people didn't even try to control their scent output—which Kirishima thought
was kind of selfish, but he was a Beta and therefore wasn't outspoken about his opinion—but
for the most part, scent blockers were gaining popularity.

Some people said they gave them headaches though, others said they made them feel fuzzy.
And of course, there were always groups saying they were unnatural and harmful, especially
to Alphas and Omegas, but Kirishima was pretty sure they were the same people who didn't
believe in vaccines and thus were automatically discredited and not allowed to give any
opinions. The government regulated them heavily and doctors promised they were safe for
everyday use, which was enough for most. But Bakugou would have to get used to those who
didn't wear them eventually, so it wasn't like they could ask everyone they may pass by to
wear them.

Bakugou knocked on the door before opening it and dragging Kirishima inside. Doctor Kurin
smiled at them from an armchair.

“Hello,” she welcomed them, gesturing to the couch across from her. Bakugou pulled
Kirishima next to him, glowering at her warily.

“I'm Doctor Kurin Ayumi,” she introduced herself. “I've been a psychiatrist for six years now.
This is just a meeting for us to get to know each other, so please, ask any questions you
have.”

“Why'd they choose you?” Bakugou asked, voice a rough growl with a hint of aggression.

“I've specialized in cases involving...particular types of trauma,” she said, hesitantly glancing
over at Kirishima before looking back at Bakugou.

“You can say whatever, Kirishima isn't leaving,” Bakugou said, and Kirishima bit his lip to
keep from smiling. He was glad he hadn't lost Bakugou's confidence and that the Alpha had
trusted him when he'd said he wasn't leaving.

“It's a little unconventional to have someone else present,” the doctor began, almost reluctant,
“but I specialize in cases of sexual trauma,” she admitted carefully.

Bakugou stiffened and Kirishima heard his intake of breath. He tensed too, not sure what to
expect.

“That's why they thought I might be able to help you,” she continued after a moment, “I want
us to be open and honest with each other.”

“I wasn't raped,” Bakugou blurted, teeth clenched. The room was instantly so silent they
could have heard a pin drop. “I made sure of that.”

Doctor Kurin frowned, leaning forward. “What do you mean, you made sure of that?”

Bakugou’s hand spasmed in Kirishima's and Kirishima wished he knew what to do here. A
low growl was coming from the Alpha and Kirishima leaned against him, trying to be
supportive.

“It's okay if you don't want to talk about it right now,” Kirishima murmured, even if he hadn't
been planning to talk at all during this meeting. “This is just your first session and it’s all
under your control.”

Bakugou clenched his eyes shut, nodding, and took a few quick breaths. Doctor Kurin raised
a brow, leaning back in her chair and sending Kirishima a look he didn't understand, and he
looked away, back to Bakugou.

“Do you have any other questions?” The doctor tried after a moment.
“I need to sleep,” Bakugou managed to get out. “And I'm not taking any medication.”

Doctor Kurin nodded. “Insomnia and nightmares are common in people who've experienced
great traumas in their lives. There are some techniques you could try that might help, but
unfortunately sleep study isn't exact and different things work better for different people. I'd
be happy to teach some of them to you though and you can try them on your own and see
what works best for you.”

Bakugou leaned forward. “Okay, yeah. Tell me,” he ordered.

…..

Kirishima felt like overall the meeting had been a success. Bakugou seemed cautiously
hopeful about the techniques Doctor Kurin taught him to help sleep better, even if he'd never
admit it. Kirishima slipped from his room after their return to go get them some dinner and
hoped that maybe Bakugou could get a few hours of sleep tonight before Kirishima needed to
go home.

“Kirishima?”

He paused, looking over to see who'd called him. “Doctor Kurin,” he greeted, a little
surprised.

“Would you mind talking with me for a moment?” She asked, gesturing to her office.
Kirishima shrugged, following her.

“I just wanted to discuss Bakugou's care with you,” she said as soon as the door was shut.
“As a professional, I don't think it's best for his personal growth for you to undermine my
suggestions and be involved in his therapy.”

Kirishima blinked, startled. “What?”

“People work best in an environment of their own choosing,” she began.

“Bakugou chose for me to be there,” Kirishima interrupted.

She scowled at him. “I'm the professional here. Trauma patients need security to have open
and honest communication and having an outsider in during their sessions doesn't promote
safety and lack of judgment.”

Kirishima glared. “I would never judge Bakugou for anything that he had to do. He knows
that. He doesn't even know you and you want to get him to start delving into this shit in the
first session?”

“Excuse you, I've been doing this for six years!” She snapped.

“I'm not talking about this with you,” Kirishima said. “Bakugou wants me there, so I'm going
to be there. If he changes his mind, so be it, but he's the only one who can make that decision,
not you.”
“You're—”

Kirishima walked out of the room, closing the door on anything else she had to say. He
glowered at the floor the entire way to the cafeteria, snagging their dinner before quickly
returning to Bakugou's room.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” Bakugou asked couthly as soon as he stomped into the room.

Kirishima hesitated, wondering if he should tell Bakugou, if it would be harmful to turn him
against this doctor who'd already taught him some new techniques to try and sleep.

“Because I know who pissed in mine,” Bakugou added, watching him carefully.

Kirishima eyed him at that.

“Oh really?” He asked, setting the food down on the table and wheeling it over Bakugou's
bed so he could reach.

“Yeah. I need a new doctor,” he said blithely, picking up his chopsticks. “Preferably one
without a stick up her ass.”

Kirishima nodded, relief easing his shoulders. “Yeah, sounds good,” he agreed. “I'm guessing
she came here after she talked to me?”

Bakugou snorted, rolling his eyes. “Fucking bitch. I almost exploded her.”

“I'm proud of your show of restraint,” Kirishima said with a mild smile.

Bakugou smirked. “Of course,” he accepted it easily. “I'm such a saint.”

Kirishima laughed. “Totally, man,” he agreed.

…..

The next doctor was so dispassionate Bakugou left mid-session, dragging Kirishima along.
The one after that gave them both such bad vibes that they didn't even start the session,
Bakugou loudly stating he wasn't talking to the ‘sketch-ass motherfucker’ and demanding
they leave right then.

At least the Alpha was getting practice walking outside and being around different people.

Kirishima was letting Bakugou control their pace, the Alpha slowly wanting to explore and
push himself. Bakugou seemed to have a natural inclination to find his own limits and then
challenge them directly. Kirishima wasn't sure how he ever could've been a crutch; Bakugou
stopped at nothing.

He tried the sleeping techniques Doctor Kurin had suggested, but they didn't seem to make a
difference. The next time Kirishima came, Bakugou was on his computer researching other
methods to try. Sometimes he'd send Kirishima on errands, looking for lavender oil or mint
leaves or whatever else odd ingredient he’d need, but Kirishima didn't mind.
“There's a psychiatrist in town that handles a lot of hard cases,” Kirishima said a day after the
disaster with the sketchy doctor. “Their office is just a couple blocks down, we could walk
there.”

Bakugou glanced up from his sketchbook briefly, humming in acknowledgement before

returning to his drawing.

“They have an opening for this Friday,” Kirishima continued.

“Did you make an appointment?” Bakugou asked.

“I wouldn't do that without asking you first,” Kirishima said, frowning.

Bakugou nodded. “Sounds fine then. Make it before lunch so afterwards we can get
something to eat that's outside of this damn place.”

Kirishima smiled. “Okay.”

…..

The hospital was extremely reluctant to let a patient just wander outside the hospital, but
Kirishima promised to stay by his side and that they'd return if there was any issues. As a
certified pro hero, his word did carry a bit of weight. Also, considering Bakugou had already
vetoed all the psychiatrists they had on staff, they really didn't have much of an option if they
wanted him to continue making progress. Plus for all intents and purposes, Bakugou wasn't
physically ill and most days wasn't a danger to himself or others so if they forced the issue he
could put up a pretty good fight to be discharged early. It wouldn't be helpful in the long run
though, for anyone involved, so the hospital caved.

“This is a lot,” Bakugou said as they stepped outside. Kirishima gently directed him to the
side of the sidewalk, trying to separate him from the noise and watching him carefully.

“What do you need?” Kirishima asked.

“Just. Give me a minute,” Bakugou muttered, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. A
car's horn blared down the street, a pedestrian yelled at them. A bicyclist rang their bell.
People talked on their phones loudly, tourists shouted and took pictures, business workers
bustled through it all. Kirishima normally ignored these things are everyday encounters, but
as he took them all in now, he knew it was easily overwhelming.

“We can go back inside,” Kirishima offered. They were only just outside the hospital, the
doors only a few feet away.

“No, I'm doing this,” Bakugou said determinedly. He glared up at Kirishima. “I'm strong,
right? I can totally handle this.”

Kirishima nodded, reaching out almost without thought, and Bakugou gratefully took his
hand. “I'm with you,” Kirishima promised.
Bakugou nodded before starting to walk down the street. It was only four blocks away, but it
seemed to take forever and he was sweating by the time they made it inside.

“Appointment for Bakugou Katsuki,” Kirishima said to the receptionist as she checked them
in. Bakugou took a seat by the wall, eyeing the few other people in the room mistrustfully.
Kirishima came and sat beside him.

They were called back soon enough, and Kirishima hoped this doctor would be a success.

“Good morning,” the doctor greeted them warmly. “I'm Doctor Karusaki Miroko. Very
pleased to meet you both.” He pushed his glasses further up his nose and offered a charming
grin. “I've been licensed for over ten years now and I really hope I'm able to help guide you
to where you'd like to be, Bakugou,” he said. “These things take time and are never the same
for everyone since everyone has their own starting place and their own ending goal they'd
like to reach. If you'd be willing to share, I'd like to know some of your major concerns at the
moment and what you'd like to achieve here.”

“I want to fucking sleep,” Bakugou said bluntly. “I can't get more than a couple hours without
waking up screaming and it fucking sucks. I'm exhausted.”

Doctor Karusaki didn't even flinch at his coarse language. “That sounds pretty normal in your
situation. Why don't you tell me what you've tried already?”

Bakugou listed the sleeping techniques he’d tried, all with basically zero success, as well as
the disaster that was the medication.

The doctor nodded as he listened, jotting down a few notes. “Well you've definitely tried a lot
of different things. I'm sorry you've had such a rough go, but believe it or not, this is pretty
typical of someone in your situation who's experienced multiple trauma for an extended
period of time. Some doctors like to move forward by having you work through your trauma
and try and make peace with it, but for immediate health concerns like sleep, I prefer to start
with safe spaces.

“Nightmares can be caused by all sorts of things, but a good sleep study found that people are
less likely to have nightmares if they feel secure and have peaceful thoughts before they fall
asleep. With situations where someone has recurring nightmares, unfortunately the person
can actually get stuck in a rut by worrying about the nightmare before they fall asleep,
inadvertently causing it again. It's a difficult cycle to get out of.

“An exercise I'd like to suggest is before you try to go to bed, pay attention to your
surroundings and what about them makes you feel safe or unsafe. Then maybe get rid of any
of the things that make you feel unsafe and add things that make you feel safer. Some of my
patients find meditation helpful too or even listening to soft music.” He shrugged before
smiling kindly. “I'm just here to help you along; this entire process is up to you and what
you'd like to do. The important thing is that you are comfortable with wherever we go with
your therapy, regardless of what does or doesn't work for other people.”

“I can try that,” Bakugou said, nodding.

“Good,” Doctor Karusaki smiled. “And we can move forward from there. Now I don't tend to
get too heavy for first sessions since we're still getting to know each other, but do you have
any other questions or concerns? Any ground rules you'd like me to respect?”

“Kirishima is here because I want him to be,” Bakugou said sternly. “That's not going to be a
problem, is it?”

The doctor shook his head. “Not at all. Some people prefer someone familiar to ground them
in these situations. That's completely fine.”

Bakugou nodded. “And I don't want to take medication.”

The doctor frowned idly but nodded all the same. “There are lots of ways to heal without
medication, we will definitely exhaust those options. Sometimes medication can be a good
way to transition but you wouldn't need it forever, but we can avoid them completely and if I
ever see that they might be a great benefit for you then we could discuss it or maybe some
alternatives. Would that be okay?”

“I guess,” Bakugou relented.

Kirishima had high hopes about the future.

…..

“I don't think this is going to work,” Bakugou said, his first admitted doubt as he got ready to
try to sleep that night.

“What's wrong?” Kirishima asked.

“The window. The door. This bed. The fucking walls. I can't feel safe because this room is
too easy to get in to but if you put me in a room without a window I'd probably claw up the
walls to get out. How the hell am I supposed get rid of unsafe things while maximizing safe
things? You're the only goddamn thing here making me feel safe!” Bakugou was flushed
from his tirade, glaring at his surroundings.

“Okay,” Kirishima acknowledged him, looking around. “I see your point.”

Bakugou steamed for a few moments, breath hissing on every exhale through his clenched
teeth.

“Give me your fucking jacket,” Bakugou said suddenly. Kirishima blinked, but after
processing the request he slipping it from his shoulders and offered it to the Alpha. Bakugou
slipped it on, zipping it up and scowling at Kirishima when he looked at him in confusion.

“Are you cold?” He asked, glancing at the room's thermostat.

“No,” Bakugou answered gruffly.

“Then what—”
Bakugou glared right at him and raised the collar of his jacket to his face before taking a
pointed inhale. Kirishima blushed.

“Ah. Right. Scent. Got it.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, settling down onto the mattress and covering the lower half of his
face with Kirishima's jacket. His constant state of exhaustion meant he fell to sleep quickly.

Kirishima eyed the clock, making note of the time before settling in the chair to wait. He
pulled up his email on his phone, answering a few.

Surprisingly, Bakugou slept for almost four hours. When he did wake, it wasn't with the usual
bang of fanfare. Kirishima glanced up to make sure he was still okay and gasped to see tears
coming from his eyes.

“Bakugou?” He tried, to see if the Alpha was awake. Bakugou whined in his sleep, curling in
on himself, and Kirishima reached for his hand, thumb rubbing against his skin softly.
“You're safe,” he murmured, as Bakugou hiccupped.

“Kirishima?” Bakugou said, waking. He sniffled, tugging at Kirishima's hand to pull him
closer. Kirishima awkwardly leaned over the bed, embracing him and letting Bakugou hide
his face in his neck.

“You slept for longer that time,” Kirishima spoke carefully.

“It wasn't a memory,” Bakugou said, hands clutching him tighter. “A nightmare still, but not
a memory. It didn't happen.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kirishima asked.

“Nothing much to say,” Bakugou said, sniffling. “You were in the ring. Against me.”

Kirishima held him tighter. Bakugou somehow managed to get him to climb on the bed and
lie beside him. It was cramped and he really didn’t think it was appropriate, but Bakugou
burrowed into his side and wrapped his arms around him tightly. As Bakugou started to fall
back under, Kirishima felt his own tiredness unexpectedly well up and he squeezed Bakugou
once before falling asleep himself.

…..

Kirishima woke to a gentle hand running through his hair. He hummed, nuzzling closer, and
the hand moved away. He frowned, peeking one eye open and hissing at the bright light.

“Wake up, stupid,” Bakugou told him, a tease in his voice.

“Mhfm,” Kirishima grunted, standing and stretching his stiff muscles. He rolled his neck,
joints popping with almost every stretch.

“You should've told me you were tired and you could've gone home,” Bakugou accused him.
Kirishima flushed. “Ah,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, “I didn't mean to fall asleep.
Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Bakugou said, looking away. There was a touch of red painting his own face. “I
didn't have any nightmares the second time I fell asleep.”

Kirishima's eyes widened. “Really? That's great, Bakugou! I'm so happy for you!” He
grinned.

“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed, but he seemed lost in thought. “Thanks.”

The whole day it seemed like Bakugou had something on his mind but Kirishima didn't want
to pry if Bakugou didn't want to share.

Later in the evening, Bakugou was getting ready to give sleep another try when Kirishima's
phone buzzed.

“Hello?”

“Riot!”

Kirishima was instantly on alert, standing from the chair. “What's wrong?”

“Please tell me you're near the downtown mall,” Mina begged him. “Cellophane and
Earphone Jacks are here with me but we can't handle these villains ourselves.”

Kirishima was already grabbing the bag he brought every day and heading into the bathroom
to change. “I'll be there in,” he hesitated, “maybe fifteen minutes? As quick as I can,” he said.

“Please hurry,” Ashido said before the call cut off.

Kirishima carried his hero costume with him on most of his days off just reasons just like
this. He changed quickly before stepping out.

Bakugou was staring at him with wide eyes.

Shit. Bakugou.

“Hey, man, I got a call and I need to go,” he said sheepishly. “I'll be back as soon as I can.
Promise.”

“Just go,” Bakugou waved him off. “Go be a hero already, shitty hair.”

Kirishima flashed him a smile before leaving the hospital in a whirl.

It only took him ten minutes to get to the mall and he was quick to intercept a steel beam that
had been thrown towards Ashido and Jirou.

“Riot!” Sero cheered from above and Kirishima grinned before throwing the beam to the side
and charging at the bull-like villain.
There were four villains total and while the team had managed to capture two, the bull villain
and the villain with a quirk that let him become something like a spinning top was giving
them problems as none of them were great up-close combatants. Kirishima almost literally
ran over the bull villain, tossing him to the ground and dazing him long enough for him to be
put in quirk suppressing handcuffs. The spinning villain was a bit more difficult, but with
Kirishima acting as a guard to keep them from getting away and taking the brute of their
attacks, Ashido and Jirou were able to steer them into Sero's tape.

“Thanks, Red Riot!” Sero said, slapping Kirishima's back.

“Glad I got here in time,” Kirishima said, grinning.

“Yeah, you've been out of the scene for over a month now,” Jirou asked. “Has everything
been alright?”

“I'm just working a low-profile case, from that Alpha ring bust?” He said, shrugging. “Been
keeping me busy and off the streets.”

“Well don't stay gone so long!” Ashido said. Her eyes brightened. “Hey, we should go out for
drinks!”

Kirishima saw red eyes, tired shoulders, a trashed room. “Maybe next time,” he declined.
“I've got to get back.”

Sero frowned. “Dude, you're not even going to rest between jobs?”

“I'll be okay,” Kirishima waved them off, although the adrenaline was starting to flag and he
was starting to feel the stiffness of muscles he hadn't used so vigorously in a while. Going to
the gym was good for maintenance, but nothing gave him a workout more than herowork.

“Well don't be a stranger!” Ashido said. “We'll plan a get together with everyone soon! And
you better show!”

“Promise!” Kirishima waved before he started jogging back towards the hospital.

His feet were practically leaden as he walked through the hospital doors and he really just
wanted to sleep. Even sleeping on Bakugou's thin mattress squished against the Alpha again
sounded good.

“Kirishima!”

Kirishima barely bit back a groan, turning to the nurse. “Yes?”

“I'm so glad you're back! Bakugou had an attack again and won't let anyone in the room.”

Kirishima nodded, he was already headed that way after all. “I'll take care of it,” he told her
and she sighed in relief.

The room looked similar to the mess it had when Kirishima first met the Alpha over a month
ago. The Alpha growled lowly from his corner, glaring even as Kirishima entered the room.
“What happened?” Kirishima asked, wondering what could've triggered another attack when
it'd been almost five days since Bakugou had had one.

“I wanted to sleep,” Bakugou growled.

Kirishima's eyes widened. “Oh,” he said.

“This is so fucking stupid!” Bakugou roared, pacing. “I can't keep fucking relying on you to
be here every time I need to sleep! I have to be able to do this in my own!”

Kirishima sighed. “So you went to sleep on your own.”

Bakugou slumped, turned away from Kirishima. His silence was enough of an admission.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima started.

“Go change already, idiot,” Bakugou interrupted him, waving at the bathroom door that still
had Kirishima's bag next to it. “I'll clean this up.”

Kirishima didn't know what he could say so he just acquiesced, heading into the bathroom
and cleaning up a little before changing. He still felt like he needed a shower, but he wanted
to get back out into the room to Bakugou as soon as possible.

Bakugou was sitting in the side of the bed when Kirishima opened the door, making an
overall despondent looking image with his slumped shoulders, lowered head, loose hands.

Kirishima walked over and sat beside him, close enough to touch if he leaned closer but also
not crowding him.

“I don't mind being here for you,” Kirishima felt the need to clarify, wondering if he
should've said something sooner.

“You should,” Bakugou muttered. “You can't do anything thanks to me because you're here
all day.”

“I want to help you,” Kirishima said. “It's only been a month. You don't have to push yourself
like this when you know it's too much.”

Bakugou groaned, hands clutching at his pants. “I can't—I need to do this by myself! You're
not going to always be there, it's so stupid to focus on you to make me feel safe!”

Kirishima frowned, biting his lip. “Hey,” he murmured, shoulder bumping Bakugou's until
the other looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. It wasn't strange to see, Bakugou was
perpetually exhausted. “Maybe you'll need to learn to sleep alone eventually, but it doesn't
have to be right now. I think we could both use some sleep to be honest. Why don't we try
what happened this morning again and then tomorrow we can figure something else out when
we're both not so exhausted?”

Bakugou blinked. “You want to sleep with me,” he said bluntly.

Kirishima's face heated. “That's...not how I'd say it, but yeah, this morning was fine and I'm
tired. Those villains were rough and it's been a while since I've seen a real fight. Plus I don't
really want to go home and even if I did you won't get any sleep if I do. So. Bed sharing is a
thing that has happened, and I would be okay with happening again.”

Bakugou snorted, rolling his eyes but he slid under the blanket on the bed. “Well come on
then,” he said.

It was a little odder climbing into bed beside Bakugou when they were both more conscious
and Bakugou wasn't upset and needing comfort, but they figured it out quickly enough and
Bakugou stretched out at his side and rested his head on his chest.

“You're too good a guy, you know?” Bakugou murmured, voice sounding on the cusp of
sleep.

“Shhhh,” Kirishima shushed him, not thinking about how easily he fit in his arms. “Go to
sleep.”

…..

Kirishima woke up to Bakugou growling lowly, tense with his muscles jumping, waiting for
an attack. He rubbed at his arm, murmuring tired nonsense, and Bakugou slowly calmed
down.

“You're okay,” he promised, and Bakugou hummed.

“Kiri…”

…..

Kirishima didn't know what time it was when Bakugou jerked awake, jolting Kirishima into
consciousness as well. Bakugou's eyes were wide, fear and rage swimming in them, and he
panted from between his lengthened fangs.

“You're safe,” Kirishima murmured on autopilot.

“Fuck,” Bakugou cursed, reaching over to the table to grab the glass of water and taking a
few quick gulps. “Fuck,” he repeated.

“What do you need?” Kirishima asked, only one eye open and watching the Alpha as he tried
to get himself to wake up and be actual help.

“Just go back to sleep,” Bakugou ordered quietly, shaky hands pressing to his face. “I'm
going to try again in a minute. I just...I need a moment.”

Kirishima didn't say anything, but he didn't go back to sleep either, watching, waiting.
Bakugou took a few deep breaths before rolling to his side and looking at Kirishima. He met
Kirishima's sleepy eye with a look on his face that was vulnerable and almost defeated,
bloodshot eyes blinking tiredly. He reached up and brushed a lock of hair from Kirishima’s
face and Kirishima hummed, letting his eye close.
“Don't stay up too long,” he whispered before falling back asleep.

…..

Pain was the first thing Kirishima registered the next time he had consciousness and his quirk
hardened on instinct, the bed creaking under the suddenly added weight. He heard Bakugou
yelp and then Kirishima rolled off the bed.

“The hell?” Bakugou shouted.

Kirishima groaned, looking down to see claw marks bleeding sluggishly on his chest and
side.

“Oh,” he said, frowning and lifting a hand to pat the tender area delicately. “Ow.”

Bakugou's head popped over the side of the bed, looking down at him with wide eyes. “What
the fuck,” he breathed. His hands had Kirishima's blood on them and they stained the white
sheets on the bed.

Kirishima leaned forward to sit up, hissing when it pulled the cuts and sent fresh blood
dripping from the wounds. He stood and went to the bathroom to find something to clean and
cover them on autopilot.

“Kirishima,” Bakugou called, following him and looking frantic. “I didn't mean—”

“I know it was an accident,” Kirishima assured him, finding a sterile wipe and lifting his shirt
to clean the scratches. “It’s okay.”

“Dammit,” Bakugou growled, grabbing the bandages forcibly and stepping forward to cover
the marks. He was scowling but his touch was gentle and after they were on he turned to the
sink to wash the blood from his hands.

Kirishima went to change his shirt, grabbing his bag and pulling out a clean one, carefully
sliding it on over the bandages.

“It won't come off,” Bakugou said, voice carrying an odd note.

“Bakugou?” He asked, stepping back into the bathroom.

Bakugou was scrubbing at his hands agitatedly, almost scratching at his skin with his nails.
“It won't come off,” he gasped, trembling. “The blood won't come off!”

Kirishima frowned. “Bakugou, your hands are clean, you can stop,” he tried gently.

Bakugou shook his head. “No, the blood won't come off!” He shouted. He kicked at the sink,
claws coming out and digging into his own skin.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima yelled, grabbing his wrists and forcibly separating them.
Bakugou howled and the sound was haunted, a deep pain that resonated through Kirishima's
chest. He thrashed in Kirishima's hold, fangs bared.

“Fuck you!” He screamed in panic, and his eyes darted around wildly but he didn't seem to
actually see anything.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima tried again.

Explosions were popping from Bakugou's palms and Kirishima winced, letting go of his
wrists and hardening his skin as Bakugou attacked. It only took a few seconds though before
Bakugou roared and fell to his knees sobbing.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he cried, arms wrapping around himself.

Kirishima knelt down opposite him and Bakugou fell into his arms easily. The Alpha wept
uncontrollably.

“I just want some goddamn sleep,” he plead against Kirishima's neck. “I am so fucking
tired.”

“I know,” Kirishima murmured, holding him tighter.

They didn't sleep again that night.

…..

Bakugou looked like he was staring down a firing squad as he sat in the bed in front of
Recovery Girl, resigned and afraid and furious all in one package.

“These are just some standard tests,” Recovery Girl said. “It'll will give us a baseline for your
health and we can use it to try and help you get some better rest.”

“Just get this over with,” Bakugou grumbled, hands fisting into the sheets.

She nodded, moving to take his vitals, pulling some blood from him to do some tests,
checking his reflexes. Bakugou's teeth ground against each other and he flinched
occasionally, but he refused to let her stop until she was done.

“So we'll run some tests on this,” she said, gesturing to the blood she'd pulled, “and we'll see
what we need to start improving on. Okay?”

“Whatever,” Bakugou grumbled unhappily.

Kirishima smiled as she left. “It’s really awesome that you agreed to let them do some tests,”
he offered supportively.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou snapped, already seeming to curl in on himself. “I just want
some sleep. She said they could figure out if something was making it where I couldn't
sleep.”
Kirishima nodded, hoping they'd find something that they could treat.

“I'm going to keep seeing Dr. Karusaki,” Bakugou announced, looking away from Kirishima.
“You don't have to come with me every time.”

Kirishima thought of the walk four blocks away to Doctor Karusaki's office, of sirens and
shouts and sudden loud noises, thought of Bakugou needing a moment outside the hospital,
so close to being overwhelmed, thought of a sweaty palm clutching his own so tightly his
knuckles turned white.

“I could at least walk with you, if you don't want me in the room,” he offered easily. “We
could still get lunch afterwards.”

Bakugou was probably trying to hide it, Kirishima thought, but his relief was nearly palpable,
his shoulders slumping as he nodded his consent.

…..

Recovery Girl knocked before coming in the room, an odd look on her face as she held a
clipboard and some paperwork.

“Bakugou,” she began, “I have your test results, if you'd like to go over them.”

“Did you find something?” Bakugou demanded.

She hesitantly nodded. “I believe I've found something that may be the cause of your
insomnia.” She paused. “Would you like Kirishima to wait outside?”

Kirishima sat up and looked over at Bakugou for direction. The blond shrugged. “I don't care,
just tell me what's wrong and fix it.”

She nodded. “Right. Well, your testosterone levels are so low they're practically non-existent.
Lack of testosterone in men can cause increased fatigue as well as other sleep problems like
insomnia, although no one is really sure why. I think we can get you on a testosterone
replacement regiment and it might help.”

Bakugou nodded, looking down at his lap. “I...see,” he managed to grit out, hands tensing
into fists.

“You don't seem surprised,” she hedged carefully.

Bakugou shook his head. “Didn't know that could cause sleep problems. Should've figured.
Could've saved you the trouble.”

“Bakugou,” she murmured, “is there something wrong?”

Bakugou breathed harshly through his nose, nostrils flaring as he glared at his hands.

“If you—”
“I hurt myself,” Bakugou blurted, cutting her off. “It was the only way to keep that sick fuck
from having me raped so I'd pass along my genes, my quirk.”

Kirishima gulped and a heavy silence hung as both he and Recovery Girl processed the
implications of that.

“Did you remove your testicles?” Recovery Girl asked after a moment.

“I ripped them with my claws and used my quirk on myself,” Bakugou admitted. “The only
way they could keep me from bleeding out was to remove them completely and sew me up.”

Kirishima winced, trying to imagine that kind of desperation, the kind of pain involved with
such an act. He didn't know if he could.

“Okay,” Recovery Girl said, frowning in concern. “We'll need to do a few more tests, but that
sort of drastic change can cause more than just insomnia. Considering your situation, I
imagine it'll be difficult for you to notice any change in most normal bodily functions, so
we'll need to keep a check on those compared to what's standard. If you do find anything else
uncomfortable or problematic, let me know, okay?”

Bakugou nodded, not looking up.

“I'll go and start the paperwork for the testosterone treatment,” she excused herself.

Kirishima bit his lip, looking down at Bakugou's hands. His claws weren't out, but Kirishima
had felt them before, the long sharp talons easily able to tear through flesh. He shuddered.

“Do you have any idea how strong you are?” Kirishima asked him, still not looking up from
his hands.

“I didn't want to be a rapist on top of everything else,” Bakugou muttered. “Didn't want to be
raped either.”

“Bakugou,” Kirishima murmured, leaning forward and taking one of the Alpha's hands. His
fingers traced the lines there and, after a moment, Bakugou eased his claws out so Kirishima
could see them. “Your willpower is something else,” he said in disbelief.

Bakugou hummed, watching Kirishima watch his hand. “You're not disgusted?”

Kirishima startled, finally looking up to see Bakugou's cautious eyes. “What? Why would
I...No! Never!” He denied quickly.

“I killed people, you know,” Bakugou said, voice deceptively calm. “A lot. Alphas usually,
but if he put an Omega in the ring with me he always told me I could either fuck them or kill
them. I always killed them.” He bit his lip as it started to wobble, looking back down at his
hands. “Always.”

Kirishima shifted from his seat, moving to sit beside Bakugou and lean against his side.
Bakugou turned his face into his neck, taking deep, steadying breaths.
“I thought I was going to die there,” Bakugou murmured. “I wanted to die there. Still kind of
wished I had.”

Kirishima wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. “I'm glad you didn't,” he said
quietly.

“I did all kind of fucked up things, Kirishima.”

“You survived.”

“And what kind of life is this?” Bakugou growled, pulling away and sniffling, wiping his
eyes brutishly. “I can barely leave this goddamn room without having a panic attack. Opening
the fucking window makes me want to attack something. You think this is a life? This is
living? This is being a fucking coward! If I hadn't been such a wimp, I would've dug my
claws into my fucking throat!” Bakugou was howling now, angry.

Kirishima frowned, trying to process the quick shift in emotions through the whiplash. “You
just need time,” he tried, “You're already doing better now than when you first got here—”

“You think murder is something that goes away with time?!” Bakugou was nearly shrieking,
completely hysterical. “You think I'm just going to forget having another person's blood on
my hands? On my teeth? In my stomach?”

Kirishima stiffened, eyes widening. Bakugou's own eyes widened in horror as he grasped
what he’d just said.

“You mean…” Kirishima whispered.

“Don't say it,” Bakugou begged, eyes wide and frantic as he cut him off though Kirishima
wasn’t sure he could’ve continued the question in the first place. “Oh god, don't say it,” he
said, before he clamped a hand over his mouth and he ran into the bathroom and vomited into
the toilet.

Kirishima felt like doing that himself, closing his eyes and breathing slowly. This was too
much. This was way too much. He had no idea what to do here, he was so far out of his
depth. He needed someone else to handle this, someone trained, someone stronger.

Bakugou was sobbing, quiet hitching breaths as he obviously tried to muffle them in the
bathroom.

Kirishima's heart broke. He couldn't leave him to someone else.

“I'm here,” he promised, coming to sit beside Bakugou and offering him a wet rag to wipe his
face.

“I'm a monster,” Bakugou whimpered.

“No, you're not,” Kirishima denied.

Bakugou cried harder, curled up to hide his face against his knees and just sobbed. Kirishima
ached, coaxing him closer until Kirishima could hold him, rocking them both as tears trailed
down his own face.

“I don't know what to do or say,” Kirishima spoke, “but I don't think you're a monster.” He
bit his lip to stave off his own sobs, taking a few breaths. “I think you were in a fucked up
situation and you did your best.”

“But for what?” Bakugou sobbed. “What good did all of that do me?”

Kirishima held him closer. “Sometimes evil happens without a reason,” he said, “but you
didn’t let it break you completely. You may be damaged, but you can always get back up
again. You wanted to be a hero, right?” He paused. “I still believe in you,” he added quietly.
“You can become a hero.”

Bakugou shook his head but didn't say anything. They sat embraced on the bathroom floor in
silence for a long time.

…..

Bakugou stepped out of Doctor Karusaki's office with a scowl.

“Ready to go?” Kirishima asked, standing.

“Kirishima?” The doctor called. “Could I speak with you a moment?”

“Uh,” Kirishima glanced as Bakugou who was shuffling his feet and pointedly not looking at
him. “Sure?”

Kirishima stepped onto the office, wondering what this was about.

“I'll cut right to the chase,” Doctor Karusaki said. “Have you considered therapy?”

“Me?” Kirishima asked, surprised.

The doctor nodded. “Yes, you. You've been exposed to a lot of heavy things,” he explained.

“Don't you mean Bakugou has?” Kirishima said.

“Bakugou has been through a lot of tough situations and he's getting help,” he agreed, “but
you've been his confidant and shoulder this entire time. It's a lot for a person to handle. I
would recommend that you look for someone to speak too also.” He eyed Kirishima before
smiling slightly. “Bakugou thinks so too, actually. He's the one who asked that I speak with
you.”

Kirishima's eyes widened. “Oh.”

“I have an opening for next Friday, after Bakugou's session,” he offered smoothly. “Unless
you'd like to find someone else?”
Kirishima shook his head automatically. “No, that's fine. I could. Do that time. Yeah.” He
frowned. “Sorry, I've never really had therapy before.”

Doctor Karusaki smiled friendly. “That's quite alright, Kirishima. We'll go over everything
for your first session next week, but it's very similar to what you heard me tell Bakugou.
Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Kirishima nodded. “Right. Sounds good. I guess...I'll be going?”

“I'll see you next week,” he offered.

Kirishima waved awkwardly before stepping back out into the waiting room. Bakugou
glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, wary.

“I'm going to take the slot after your appointment next week,” he said. “That was probably a
good idea. Thanks!”

“No reason for me to fuck up your life with my shit,” Bakugou grumbled crassly as they left
the building together. “You should start herowork again next week too. I don't need you
holding my hand all hours of the day. I've got to learn to do some of this shit by myself.”

Kirishima hummed, thoughtful. “I guess I could tell my manager to put me on for a few days
next week,” he agreed. “Hey, I found a new vegetarian place close by. You want to try it?”

Bakugou glared at him. “I'm not a fucking vegetarian.”

Kirishima frowned. “I didn't mean anything by that, dude. It was just a suggestion. Besides,
being a vegetarian isn't an insult.”

Bakugou scowled. “I like meat,” he grumbled, before wincing at a memory no doubt,

slumping his shoulders. Now that Kirishima had some idea of why exactly Bakugou couldn’t
stomach meat, he didn’t really want to know what he was thinking of. “Fine, where's the
damn vegetarian place?”

Kirishima led them there without comment, filling the silence with idle chatter and just trying
to keep Bakugou distracted from his past.

“Your hero name is Red Riot, right?” Bakugou asked, pointing his chopsticks at him before
taking another bite. “Why that name?”

Kirishima grinned. “I modeled it after the chivalrous hero, Crimson Riot. He was my idol
growing up.” He shrugged. “Not as popular as All Might maybe, but I think he was
amazing.”

Bakugou hummed. “All Might was pretty amazing,” he agreed, looking down at his food. “I
used to have all of his merchandise growing up.”

Kirishima laughed. “Dude, you sound just like one of my old classmates. Midoriya was such
an All Might fanboy.”
Kirishima startled as Bakugou's chopsticks splintered in his hand, crushed from Bakugou's
fisted grip. Kirishima's eyes widened as he realized what he'd said, remembering not too long
ago when Bakugou had nearly spat the name ‘Deku’ at his mother's face.

“I'm nothing like that shit-nerd loser,” Bakugou hissed angrily. “How the hell do you even
know him?”

Kirishima frowned. “He was one of my classmates,” he repeated. “Do you...have some
problem with Midoriya?”

Bakugou huffed, glaring down at his food. “Fucking Deku,” he growled through gritted teeth.
“Remember when I told you I was pissed in high school because a kid from my middle
school got into UA?”

“That was Midoriya?” Kirishima said. His brow furrowed. “What kind of problem could you
have with Midoriya though? He's really nice.”

“Don't—I—That's—He—” Bakugou groaned loudly, dropped his head to his hands. “He’s
fucking Deku,” he repeated, stressed, like that would explain everything.

Kirishima felt like he was missing something. “You know, that's his hero name.”

Bakugou looked at him incredulously. “What?” He demanded.

“Yeah, he chose ‘Deku’ as his hero name,” Kirishima said, simply. “Said he was going to
change its meaning, be a Deku that inspired and didn’t give up.”

Bakugou was quickly turning a shade of red Kirishima hadn't thought humanly possible,
sparks lighting up his palms. “Goddamn Deku,” he said, so angry Kirishima thought he might
be close to breathing fire. Kirishima coughed lightly, the aggressive scent Bakugou was
releasing near to overwhelming even him.

“What rank is he?” Bakugou demanded suddenly.

“Like, ninth, I think? Tenth? He's ahead of me and I'm at eighteen.”

Bakugou looked ready to tear his hair out. “How the hell did that nerd become tenth? He's
such a quirkless loser, goddammit!”

Kirishima frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about? Midoriya's not quirkless. His
quirk is super strong actually.”

Bakugou lasered in on him with narrowed red eyes. “What? Deku doesn't have a quirk. That's
bullshit.”

Kirishima shook his head, pulling up a video app on his phone and easily finding a video of
one of Midoriya's rescues, showing it to Bakugou.

“What the fuck,” Bakugou hissed to himself. “That goddamn lying son of a bitch shit-face
nerd!”
Kirishima glanced around at the neighboring tables. “Uh, dude, could you maybe chill with
the language and rage? There's like a lot of families around us.”

“I'm going to blast his ass,” Bakugou declared, palms popping. “That little—”

“Gentlemen,” one of the staff interrupted. “I'm afraid your...discussion is upsetting some of
the other patrons here. I'm going to have to ask you to please leave.”

“What?” Bakugou snapped, looking ready to fight.

“Of course,” Kirishima agreed, standing and offering enough payment to cover both of their
meals before ushering the still growling Bakugou out of the building.

“I just can't believe this!” Bakugou shouted as soon as they were outside. “He's been lying to
me this whole time! Probably had a stupid little laugh behind my back; stupid Bakugou,
thinking he's quirkless when he had a power like that.” He gestured wildly at Kirishima's
phone.

“I don't think—”

“That's exactly how he is,” Bakugou cut him off. “He's been making fun of me and pitying
me my whole damn life. And now he's surpassed me apparently so he doesn't need me
anymore. God, he makes me so angry.”

Kirishima bit the inside of his cheek. That didn’t sound like Midoriya at all.

“And the worst part is that that asshole only gets praised for that kind of shit,” Bakugou
huffed. “No one ever calls that little asshole out on his bullshit.”

“I think there might have been some miscommunication somewhere because Midoriya
doesn't have a cruel bone in his body,” Kirishima denied.

“Fucking—he got you too?” Bakugou growled. “Whatever,” he spat, glaring straight ahead
and refusing to talk anymore.

Kirishima walked next to him, feeling the tension in the air but not willing to back down.
Midoriya was a great hero, they'd done lots of team missions together, and it didn't sit right to
listen to Bakugou talk bad about him. Besides, Kirishima was sure he was right and that
Bakugou was just misunderstanding something.

“I guess I'll see you tomorrow?” Kirishima asked after they got back to Bakugou's room.
“They start the testosterone treatment tomorrow, right?”

Bakugou grunted.

Kirishima frowned. “Unless you don’t want me here?”

Bakugou huffed, looking out the window with a heavy glower.

Kirishima sat next to the bed, watching his face. “Bakugou. I need you to talk to me,” he tried
to coax. “I can't read your mind. I know you're upset about the whole Midoriya thing but I
can't—”

“Just shut up and leave already,” Bakugou growled harshly.

Kirishima sighed. “I'll see you tomorrow,” he promised quietly, patting the covers on the bed
twice before turning to leave.

“How much did Deku tell you?”

Bakugou's voice carried a note of uncertainty through his bluntness and Kirishima paused. He
didn't turn around, instead watching the door speculatively.

“What do you mean?” Kirishima asked.

“About him growing up,” Bakugou said quietly. “About me,” he added in an almost whisper.

“Midoriya has never told me much because I haven't asked and we're not, like, best friends,”
Kirishima said slowly. “I just know he had a hard time as a kid and that his quirk was a late
bloomer.”

Bakugou snorted and the sound was far from humored. He sounded angry, but in a reserved
sense, not like he was about to lose control. Like he was frustrated. “He had a hard time
because of me,” Bakugou ground out. “I was an asshole even before this shit.” He paused.
“There was a reason the League thought I'd join them.”

Kirishima huffed, frustrated himself, and turned to face Bakugou fully. The Alpha was
watching him with steely red eyes under blond bangs, waiting for him to show weakness or
disgust no doubt before he'd force him to leave. “You're not a villain, Bakugou,” he repeated.
“I don't know what you did as a kid, but whatever it was, you were a kid. Plus, you obviously
regret whatever it is since you don't want to talk about it or want me to know about it. You
can apologize and move on.”

“I'm not apologizing for shit! I didn't do anything!” Bakugou was quick to deny, though his
eyes screamed wild panic.

“Then what are you so afraid that Midoriya might have told me?” Kirishima shot back, jaw
setting with stubbornness.

“I'm not—” Bakugou cut himself off, breathing heavy. His eyes were wide, so much that
Kirishima could see the veins in them as he looked around, anywhere but at Kirishima.

“I'm not asking you to tell me,” Kirishima said carefully, “but you may want to consider
apologizing to him. If it's bothering you this badly and has been for all these years.”

Bakugou still refused to look at him, hiding his eyes under his bangs. Kirishima sighed after a
long moment of silence.
 “I'll see you tomorrow,” he promised again before turning to leave. Bakugou didn't stop him
this time.

“I want to be a hero,” Bakugou murmured into the silence of Kirishima's absence, his voice
cracking slightly with emotion as he stared at his rapidly blurring hands in defeat. “Why do I
keep messing up?”

Chapter End Notes

Chapter warnings: discussion of past rape/attempted rape, discussion of self mutilation,

mild blood/wound warning, panic attack, light self harm (during panic attack), talk of
suicide ideation, mentioned murder, mentioned/implied cannibalism, vomiting

(please please let me know if you notice something I should add as a chapter warning)

(also please note, I don't have anything against vegetarianism, Bakugou is just being his
typical lil' shit self that we all love to hurt and love to heal)

...and okay, I have ship-tinted glasses so I had to sneak the bed-sharing in there, but I'm
doing my best to use restraint and be believable and respectful. Kirishima is not going to
be Bakugou's cure. More than likely, Bakugou will not get a 'cure', in that all of his
trauma will not magically go away, but know that I do plan to have something in the
realm of a happy ending for this.

I will also say, I don't work at a hospital nor do I live in Japan, so most of that protocol
is guesswork and me just choosing whatever works for the story. But hey, this is
fanfiction, I do what I want. ;)

Let me know what you think! This will be my last update for a while, just to let you
guys know, but your kudos and comments feed me! They really mean a lot, and I adore
and obsess over every one! <3
 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

This chapter starts heavy with more flashbacks, but it ends on a lighter note.

CHAPTER WARNINGS IN END NOTES

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The worst part was the waiting, the silence. Between matches and various torture set up by
All for One, Bakugou was left alone with his thoughts in the darkness, only a dim light from
the hall slipping into his cell through the bars. When he had something to focus on, it was
easy to be strong, stubborn, to resist whatever All for One pitted him against. But when he
was alone, abandoned within the darkness of his cell, weariness hung over him like a noose
and wore him thin.

He heard things, sometimes. In the darkness, it was impossible to tell what it was. Sometimes
other prisoners, their cells further down. Sometimes rats or bugs scurrying between bars.
Sometimes the handler in charge of giving them food everyday approaching, if Bakugou was
even allowed normal food that day.

Sometimes it was in his head though. He knew because sometimes it'd be his own voice
echoing in his ears.

‘Just pray that you'll be born with a quirk in your next life...and take a swan dive off the roof
of a building!’

Bakugou sat in the darkness and heard that comment over and over in his brain. Obviously
he hadn't meant for Deku to kill himself, not really. At least, he didn't think he had. It was
hard to think about his mindset then, with this experience tainting everything, but middle
school seemed like another lifetime, like it'd happened to another person.

Heroes didn't tell other people to jump of roofs. Heroes didn't curse and use their quirks on
weaker people. Heroes didn't yell and hurt people.

Maybe he was meant to be a villain. Maybe he was just fighting the inevitable. Maybe this
was his real destiny.

Bakugou was glad at least that Deku hadn't listened to him. He didn't know what he would've
done, coming to school to learn that Deku had offed himself. He might've been sitting just like
this, thinking, those words echoing in his ears.

He wished he could get to a roof. He'd take a swan dive off one right now. Wish he was home,
pray to end up someplace else, anywhere else.
Deku hadn't even been that bad, truly. Compared to here? To All for One? Deku was nothing.
Deku was just a memory.

Bakugou sniffled. He remembered sleepovers and All Might movie marathons and trick-or-
treating as dual All Mights and smiles and kindness.

When did he get so angry at the world? When did everything turn into something sharp and
biting and mocking? When did kind eyes and a friendly smile become sneers and pity?

For the first time in his life, Bakugou hated his quirk. It was loud, flashy, powerful. Maybe if
he'd had something less impressive, he wouldn't have been on such a pedestal as a kid.
Maybe he wouldn't have felt the need to be so cruel, so viscous. Maybe he wouldn't have been
so loud, so hateful, earned the eye and attention of the League.

Maybe he wouldn't be here.

Laughter echoed down the hall before someone started screaming. Their screaming started
up someone else's. Someone else started crying.

Bakugou let the tears fall, curling on his pathetic cot and whimpering and whining to himself.

The sounds blurred together with the rest of the noise.

Bakugou still wished he could get to a roof.

…..

Bakugou woke up a couple hours after Kirishima had left, tears on his face. He burrowed
deeper into the Beta's jacket collar, trying to breathe in more of his scent. At least he hadn't
woken up screaming, even if he had only gotten a little over two hours of sleep. He groaned,
pressing his face into his pillow.

He was so tired. He hoped the testosterone treatment would work. He didn't know what else
to do.

He curled tighter on the bed, eyes staring blankly into the night, hearing the sounds of the
hospital operating outside his room. All this seemed like an illusion, a pretty dream to hide
him from the horrors of the ring. He kept waiting for All for One to step in, smirk and taunt
him. He might just shatter if that happened. Maybe that was the villain's plan.

Kirishima was the only thing he'd found that could ground him into reality, proving this
wasn't his imagination. Kirishima was too good for even Bakugou to come up with. He was a
true hero, honest and genuine. Even his scent was sincere, true and without the acrid bite of
manipulation. Kirishima worked hard to help him, more so than Bakugou deserved, and
Bakugou could see it weighing on him. The whole point of everything he'd done had been so
he could carry that weight alone, not drag others down with him, and yet that was exactly
what he was doing. Kirishima didn't deserve this. Kirishima didn't ask for this responsibility,
this shackle, to be thrust upon him, though he was too nice to ever turn Bakugou away
himself. Bakugou would just have to pull himself together. Sure, he was constantly plagued
by the torturous things he'd done to survive—the echoes of screams still ringing in his ears,
the stain of blood on his hands, the nauseating satisfaction of charred meat in his throat—but
he was a fighter. He'd push it all down, ignore it, be the best.

Bakugou sniffled, biting his lip to keep in a pathetic whimper. He was so tired. So so tired of
having to be the best. Of having to be the one to fight. Of having to fight alone.

His hands curled into his sheets tightly and he buried his face into Kirishima's jacket collar,
forcing a shaky inhale into his system. He'd try sleeping again in a little while. Right now, he
just needed to breathe.

…..

Bakugou hated when he was put in the ring with others who didn't fight. Who didn't know
they didn't have a choice, probably still freshly taken and so very naive to the evil plaguing
this place. If he was going to be made to kill, he'd rather they were as broken as him, so he
could feel like it was a mercy. But then, that's probably exactly why All for One chose these
matchups, because Bakugou wasn't truly broken. Not yet.

“I don't want to fight!” the young Alpha in front of him yelled, arms crossed defensively.

You don't have an option, Bakugou thought, sparkling an explosion from his hand. The
other's quirk was something to do with regeneration and he backed away to heal from the
attack.

“Please! You don't have to do this!” the Alpha begged. He had tears in his eyes and looked
only a few years younger than Bakugou himself. “We can just not fight. They can do a lot of
things but can't make us hurt each other.”

Oh, but they could. Bakugou remembered, very vividly, the one and only time he'd refused to
fight along with his opponent.

—chained to a post, fraying whips, burnt flesh, All for One holding his head, making him
watch as they tore her apart alive, laughing into his ear, filthy hands forcing his mouth open
and coating his mouth with her blood as his opponent screamed.

“You did this. If you had just played along, she wouldn't have been hurt like this. She's just a
pawn after all. You're the one I want. Taste her and never forget what you've done.”—

“Please,” the Alpha in front of him pled weakly, shaking with fear and pressed back against
the wall of the ring.

“This is all the kindness I have left in me,” Bakugou murmured to him before he dug into his
throat with his claws, a quick death.

All for One laughed, clapping slowly behind him. Bakugou felt nothing.

…..

Bakugou gasped, sitting up, panicked eyes taking in the room.

“Not there,” he whispered to himself, pulling his legs up and backing into the headboard.
“I'm not there.”

He hid his face against his knees, sobbing into Kirishima's jacket.

He felt everything, and he hated himself.

…..

Kirishima was honestly unsure if he should come the next day and how Bakugou might react,
but he had said he'd come so he made his way to the hospital anyways. If Bakugou didn't
want him there, he'd tell him, he was sure.

He didn't get stopped by a frantic nurse on his way in, so he assumed Bakugou hadn't had any
major attacks. When he knocked on the door to the Alpha’s room and stepped inside though,
he knew it hadn't been a good night for the other.

Bakugou glared defensively, dark shadows hanging under heavy exhausted eyes. He was
shivering with exhaustion, swaying almost even as he sat on the bed and Kirishima reached
out almost on instinct. Bakugou slapped his hand away, grumbling lowly.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima murmured, sitting on the chair beside the bed. “Why didn't you call
me?”

“I'm going to do this on my own,” Bakugou growled roughly, voice scratchy and dry.

Kirishima sighed. “I would've come,” he said gently.

“I said I'll do this on my own!” Bakugou barked.

Kirishima eyed him but didn't comment. Bakugou's hasty blinking and dazed glare told him
how exhausted the other was.

“Go take a shower,” he said, gesturing to the bathroom behind him. “I'll change your sheets
for you.”

“I don't need—” Bakugou cut himself off with a cough, a harsh sudden sound that turned into
a fit. Kirishima steadied him by grabbing his shoulders.

“You're going to get sick if you don't start taking better care of yourself,” Kirishima said
softly. “It's okay to ask for help.”

Bakugou grumbled some more but it was all unintelligible to Kirishima. He stood and
grabbed some fresh clothes, walking on unsteady legs into the bathroom and shutting the
door. Kirishima sighed, robotically moving to strip the bed and set them aside for one of the
nurses to pick up later and grabbing fresh sheets from a cabinet.

A clatter from the bathroom made him tense in concern.

“Bakugou?” He called out hesitantly.

“I'm fucking fine!” Bakugou spat back venomously.

Kirishima shook his head. Today wasn't going to be a good day then.

Kirishima sat once he'd finished changing the sheets, checking his email when Bakugou
didn't emerge from the bathroom. He looked at the clock worriedly after another ten minutes,
frowning and biting his lip to keep from calling out again. He glanced at the door when he
heard it open fifteen minutes later, but quickly looked away as Bakugou made his way
listlessly back to the bed, hair still damp. He crawled onto the mattress, slumping on his side
and closing his eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered, hands weakly smoothing against the clean sheets.

“You're welcome,” Kirishima said, tone just as low.

It was quiet in the room, Bakugou's steady breathing just a hair too fast to be from
unconsciousness. Bakugou hated turning on the television, too many unknown variables that
he couldn't anticipate, so the only other sounds were the muffled goings-on happening
outside the room.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima focused back on Bakugou, the other seeming to curl tighter in on himself. Bakugou
was a grown man near six foot tall and yet at that moment on the bed he looked small, like a
hurt child.

“Could you...hold me?” Bakugou almost choked out his request, voice cracking with
hesitancy and insecurity.

Kirishima hummed, standing and walking to the other side of the bed before climbing up
behind Bakugou and embracing him.

Bakugou hiccupped, softly crying into the pillow. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, hands fisting
tightly into the sheets.

“I'm here for you,” Kirishima promised.

…..

“Okay, so there's a few different ways we can start your testosterone replacement therapy. It's
up to you which you'd like to try first,” the nurse began. “There are skin patches, mouth
patches, gels that can be applied to the skin every day, or an implant that can be injected into
your skin for a slow-release of testosterone. Often complaints are itching and redness or
irritation at the application site for the patches and gels. Other concerns with testosterone
replacement therapy are the development of prostate cancer, sleep apnea, or blood clots. The
tests Recovery Girl did early this week mean the latter two are okay for now and we'll just
have to keep a watch out, but we do need to do a prostate screening before we can begin any
of them. If you're okay with it, we can get an MRI scheduled for later this afternoon and start
the treatment as soon as we get the results back.”
Bakugou took this in with the dazed look of someone desperate for sleep.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Let's just try the skin patch first. Sounds easiest. I don't give a
fuck if it itches.”

She nodded, making a note on her clipboard. “Alright then, I'll get the pharmacist on that and
reserve an MRI machine for later today. One of the other nurses will come and get you
prepped. Do you have any questions?”

“No.”

“Well just let us know if you do later,” she offered before excusing herself.

It was going to be a long day.

…..

Bakugou was tense on the walk to the MRI machine.

“It will just be for a few moments,” the doctor assured him as he eyed the narrow tube he was
meant to be in mistrustfully.

“Whatever,” Bakugou grumbled, crawling onto the MRI machine and lying back as
instructed.

“We'll be right in the next room,” the doctor promised. “We can hear you over the
microphone if you need to tell us anything.”

Kirishima gave him a supportive squeeze on his shoulder before following the doctor to the
adjacent room. Bakugou's breath stuttered as he slid into the machine, staring up at the white
around him.

“Okay, I'm starting it now,” the doctor came over a speaker before a loud thrum started all
around him and Bakugou wasn't there anymore.

The noise surrounded him, near deafening. The cheers of the villains watching were
indiscernible from each other, a loud cacophony that was disorienting. It was a free for all
match, almost twenty Alphas and an Omega thrust into the small ring. By scent, Bakugou
could tell the Omega was in heat, not that he could've picked out who was the Omega with
the close quarters and his quick-moving opponents. Not by scent anyways. It was easy to
visually spot him though; the Omega cowered against the wall and seemed only seconds from
presenting. Desperate for any way out of this that might mean he lived, even if it was only by
hanging off the winning Alpha's knot.

Bakugou spat bile onto the ground, pushing away the thought and dodging an attack. The
heat scent was messing with all of them, he thought, even the younger looking Alphas
attacking with a viciousness that was abnormal. That was the point, no doubt. The heat scent
was kick-starting at least a few ruts, he could tell. He snarled as another Alpha lunged at him
and blasted them away with his quirk. A group of Alphas near the trembling Omega made a
snarling pit of fangs and claws and blood, biting and tearing into each other. Bakugou
breathed shallowly through his mouth, staying on the opposite side of the ring. He had more
than enough issues than to worry about having a rut. He was fighting to stay alive, not breed
some unfortunate soul.

Still, the scent was intoxicating, causing an unpleasant drunkenness that made his heart
thump with adrenaline. It soured the other Alphas’ scents even more so than usual, turning
them acrid to his nose, a direct challenge to his instincts. His fangs dug into his gums as he
clenched his teeth in refusal to play this game. He didn't know if any of these other people
meant anything to All for One or if this was all another production meant to break him, but
either way, Bakugou wasn't dying and he wasn't raping anyone. He stood resolutely as far
from the mass of fighting Alphas as he could, watching with a resigned glower to see what
pitiable soul he'd had to kill to survive. To see what poor person he'd have starring in his
nightmares for years to come.

Finally one Alpha stood victorious, kicking at his fallen opponents, inhaling hungrily and
focusing on the Omega before he caught Bakugou's still alive scent. He roared in challenge,
turning his snarl at the blond, blinded by his own rut, his own body. His rage left him
predictable and Bakugou let loose an explosion against his stomach, clutching onto his head
and jerking to the side as hard as he could. A snap and then the body was limp. Bakugou let it
drop.

“And the winner gets to claim his prize,” All for One announced, honey dripping from his
suave voice.

Bakugou walked to the cowering Omega evenly, face an emotionless mask. His claws
wouldn't retract, his fangs poking out his lips and refusing to cooperate. His rut was upon
him, the heat scent having triggered it, and the Omega turned to present to him as he neared,
whining in distress and shaking.

Bakugou cooed, an instinctive response to a distressed Omega that he couldn't fight on top of
everything else. The Omega whimpered back. Bakugou leaned over him, nuzzling the back of
his neck, breathing in the scent directly from his glands. Then he opened his mouth and bit
into his throat, jaw straining as he dug his fangs into the poor Omega’s throat, snapping his
neck with his hand as he waited for the Omega's body to go limp.

He snarled at All for One with blood on his lips and hatred in his eyes. All for One reflected
the same hatred back.

The crowd cheered—

Bakugou gasped in the MRI. “Out, let me out, let me out!” He screamed, the sounds slow to
ebb as he was brought out.

Bakugou scrambled from where he'd been lying, rolling off onto the floor and practically
crawling away from the doctor and Kirishima as they entered, growling his warning as his
was swept into another memory.

His rut had lasted days, his hard-on constant as he refused to touch himself for fear it'd make
him lose control. All for One had an almost steady stream of Omegas brought into his cell, as
if he just needed to find the right one to tempt him to breaking. Bakugou tried to avoid killing
them unless they tried to get close to him. Regardless of what his body said, he wasn't turned
on, he wasn't ready to breed. He wasn't an animal, he kept repeating to himself. He would not
rape someone and try to excuse it as being out of his control because he'd been in rut. It
wasn't an excuse. He wouldn't accept it. He wasn't that weak.

The Omega currently sharing his cell was a small, frail-looking girl. She was in heat but
wasn't approaching him, instead curled up as far from him as she could get.

“I don't want this,” she'd said to him once, hours ago when they'd first forced her in there
with him.

“I don't either,” he'd said through clenched fangs.

“Then which one of us is expendable?” She'd asked.

Bakugou didn't say anything, but his eyes must have told her the answer. She sniffled,
nodding, resigned.

They didn't touch or speak again. The villains came in later to retrieve her, furious to see
Bakugou had resisted her and left her breathing, that she hadn't tried or died.

They cut open her stomach and left her bleeding out on the floor of his cell to teach him a
lesson. He crawled over to her after they left, hopelessness tearing up in his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

She blinked slowly as death neared her, managing a tired smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He reached out and brushed a piece of her long black hair from her face.

Bakugou wept on the floor, the memories swelling and surrounding him.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima called, earning his attention. The redhead was crouching in front of
him but not crowding him. He smiled once Bakugou focused on him. “There you go.” He
reached out a hand. “Let's go back to your room, okay? The doctor said they'd have the
results analyzed shortly and then a nurse would come with the first dose for your treatment
later.”

Bakugou nodded robotically, totally drained, letting Kirishima lead him back to his room.

“This can go on your arm or anywhere on your upper body,” the nurse said, showing him the
skin patch. “You'll have to apply a new patch every day. It'll take a while before there's
noticeable effects through lab results, but you should feel a change yourself sooner than that.”

She applied the patch to his upper arm, where his bicep led into his shoulder. She left soon
after, telling him to page them if he felt anything off or wrong.

He reached up and absentmindedly rubbed at the patch. It felt like just another adhesive
bandage. Seemed odd that it could make a difference. Kirishima was sitting in front of him in
the chair and he leaned forward.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

“No,” Bakugou denied.

Kirishima watched him. Bakugou stared at the wall blankly, not sure what he should be
feeling.

“Do you want me to leave?” Kirishima asked finally.

Never, Bakugou thought vehemently, only barely managing to keep from saying it out loud.
Kirishima kept him grounded, in the present, and not lost in his hellhole memories.

“No,” Bakugou denied again. He finally forced himself to focus on the redhead, noting his
worried look. “Let's...go for a walk. And get something to eat.” He suggested hesitantly.
Going to therapy was making it easier for him to leave the hospital without being
overwhelmed. He needed to get out of his head right now and a change of scenery sounded
like the best idea.

Kirishima smiled. “Sure, dude,” he agreed easily.

“Don't call me dude,” Bakugou grumbled.

Kirishima laughed as they both walked out the door, a bright, boisterous sound that was
welcome, pushing away the taint of his memories. Bakugou cherished it, holding onto the
sound as a lifeline. He just hoped he didn't pull Kirishima down like an anchor in the process.

…..

It was later than his usual therapy session, people getting off of work and commuting home,
the horns of rush hour making themselves known. It was overwhelming, sudden sounds
jarring Bakugou's psyche and sending him startling into a defensive position with every shrill
sound, shouted curse, loud argument. He had a near constant growl tumbling from his throat,
hackles raised and lip curled to show his lengthened fangs.

“Hey, it's okay,” Kirishima promised from beside him, and he offered his hand with a smile.
“I'm right here. I promise you're safe.”

Bakugou warred with himself but when a bicyclist and a taxi started arguing right next to
them and the bicyclist kicked the taxi door, the loud thump was too similar to the fall of a
dead body and Bakugou grabbed Kirishima's hand and clutched it like a lifeline.

“Not there,” Bakugou muttered desperately to himself. Kirishima lead him away from the
scene with a gentle coaxing by his hand, not complaining even though Bakugou had to be
holding his hand too hard. Kirishima got them both next to a giant potted plant, out of the
direct flow of pedestrians, and he frowned in concern.

“We can go back,” Kirishima assured him.

Back to his room. Back to the safe predictable sounds of the hospital. Monotony. Comfort.
Security.

A crutch.

Bakugou grit his teeth in frustration. He wasn't weak, goddammit. He could handle a fucking
walk.

“No,” he snarled, breathing heavy. He refused to close his eyes, unsure what he'd see behind
them, instead glaring at the ground.

“Okay,” Kirishima responded easily.

“Why don't we go in there?” Kirishima asked, gesturing to a small cafe that didn't look
slammed full. “We can both calm down a little, wait for rush hour to show down a bit before
continuing.”

Bakugou nodded after a moment, figuring this concession wasn't a loss, just a breather.
Entering the cafe was an instant relief, the sounds from outside muffled by a gentle tingling
of a bell over the door and soft music in the background.

“What do you like?” Kirishima asked him, and Bakugou looked up at the menu.

It wasn't often he could find a well-done spicy drink, even if spicy hot chocolate had always
been one of his favorites. He frowned at most of the choices as they were obviously meant
for those with a sweet tooth, practically milkshakes more than coffee.

“Chai tea,” Bakugou settled on. It wasn't as bitter as coffee, which he preferred, but he
wouldn't have to add anything to it. He hadn't had coffee in so long, he wasn't sure how to
even make it to his own taste anymore, since he'd always taken it black with about a handful
of sugar. Now the idea of drinking anything with any level of sweetness brought strawberries
and cream to his senses and made him swim in nausea. Guilt was a powerful force.

“Why don't you get us a table and I'll order?” Kirishima suggested.

Bakugou shrugged, heading to one of the tables against the wall so to have something at his
back. He watched the people outside as they walked on boredly, people with simple day-to-
day jobs that had never been through half the shit he'd seen. He wondered idly if this was
how veterans thought, returning from war and seeing people dying and killing people
themselves, and then being expected to just go back to being normal. It was near maddening.

“Here you go,” Kirishima said, sitting Bakugou's drink in front of him before sitting himself.

“Thanks,” Bakugou managed, taking the drink in his hands and letting it warm his palms. It
was a comforting feeling and he blew across the steaming liquid without daring to take a sip
yet.

Kirishima had some sort of sugary milkshake monstrosity, whipped cream and chocolate
drizzled over the top with a cherry at the peak. He sipped through the straw happily, obvious
to the world. Bakugou wondered what sorts of things he'd seen as a hero and how he could
just deal with the shit Bakugou brought into his life and also smile so kindly and warmly.
Surely he'd seen dead bodies before, surely there had been people he couldn't save. Even All
Might had had people he couldn't save. And yet Kirishima was still so bright, so happy. It
didn't make sense.

Outside, rush hour raged on, pedestrians stalking past, bicyclists braving the stop-and-go
traffic, drivers yelling and honking and flicking each other off through windows. It was
almost comical, that to these people this would be the greatest upset of their lives, that they'd
have to wait a few more minutes to get home.

Bakugou snorted, biting his lip at the unexpected humor. Kirishima glanced at him, smile
already curling up and eyes bright.

“What's so funny?” He asked curiously.

“All these extras are getting so mad at something as stupid as traffic,” Bakugou said, looking
back at the window. “They don't even know what it's like to have real problems.” Bakugou
gave him a quick glance, noticing Kirishima was now looking outside too. “Don't you ever
feel that way? I mean, you're a hero, you've had to have seen some bad shit. Doesn't this all
seem stupid to you?”

Kirishima hummed in thought. “Maybe,” he relented after a moment, shrugging, “but it also
seems human. I'm a hero so other people don't have to deal with the same stuff that I do. It's
kind of…” he paused, head tilting. “Fulfilling,” he decided on, “to see people having normal
lives and the opportunity to get mad over simpler things.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, finally taking a sip of his drink. Deeming it not too hot, he took a
larger drink. “People need perspective,” he argued, looking down at his drink so he wouldn't
have to see Kirishima's expression. He wasn't sure if it would turn to disappointment or
sympathy but he wanted neither right now.

“It might not hurt for some people to learn some perspective,” Kirishima agreed after a
moment, and Bakugou looked up in surprise, seeing instead something contemplative on the
other's face. “It's more difficult in emergencies if someone doesn't work with the team.
Hostage situations or times like when a building collapses requires everyone to work together
so that everyone can get home safe.” A dark look passed over his face for a moment and
Bakugou knew there was a story there. Someone who'd been selfish and got someone hurt or
worse. He wasn't going to ask though. Kirishima would tell him if he wanted.

Bakugou took another drink, looking down at the amber water in his cup.

“How many others made it out alive?” Bakugou asked. “From the League's ring,” he clarified
since the topic was a bit of a jump.

Kirishima frowned. “We rescued over thirty Alphas and eight Omegas,” he said quietly so no
one else could hear. “Three of the Omegas...were...well. Pregnant.” He sighed wearily.
“However, I guess because of the lasting damages some of them sustained, only two of the
Omegas are alive—one who was pregnant and chose to abort and another who wasn't
pregnant and had only been taken recently—and over half of the Alphas have either died or
committed su—” he cut himself off, seeming to realize just then who he was talking.

“Sorry, you didn't need all that information,” he said apologetically. “Basically, only two
Omegas and I think thirteen Alphas are, um, still alive.”

Bakugou took it all in without a flinch though, oddly calm with the gory details. It had been
his life for four years after all.

“There's been talk about making a sort of support group for you all,” Kirishima added after a
moment. “What do you think?”

A support group. Somewhere they all could get together and cry about shared experiences.
Shared ghosts. Maybe even see familiar faces, faces that spectated matches from between
bars surrounding the ring or, in the Omegas’ cases, faces that may have forced themselves on
them, in them. The very idea turned Bakugou's stomach.

“No,” he snapped. “I'm not doing that shit.”

Kirishima smiled weakly. “I didn't think you'd be a fan. I told the heroes putting it together
that I'd ask you but I doubted you'd want to be involved.”

“Do they all have heroes like you helping them?” Bakugou couldn't help but blurt out, cheeks
instantly heating inexplicably. It's not that he cared or anything.

“Some do,” Kirishima shrugged. “A few have preferred to speak only with their families or
with the heroes that directly saved them. Others refuse to open up more than absolutely
necessary.” He bit his lip, glancing away. “The ones who didn't have the best support systems
are the ones who...didn't make it very long.”

Bakugou nodded in understanding. That made sense. There was no telling where he'd be if it
wasn't for Kirishima.

“The League of Villains was the worst crime ring encountered in decades,” Kirishima said.
“What happened to you and the others has been beyond what most people can imagine. The
media is still kind of having a field day, though the names and faces of the victims has been
kept secure and anonymous,” he added, mildly bitter at the wild gossip and savage need for a
story for ratings even though the media was what was pushing the trials to more so much
faster.

Bakugou knew that too. He'd been asked, weeks ago, if he was willing to testify. He was told
at least five others were testifying on top of the evidence already held against each of the
villains involved. Bakugou had denied the request immediately; they had enough evidence.
He couldn't fathom talking about the shit he'd done in front of strangers. He could barely
stomach talking about it to Dr. Karusaki and Kirishima.

They both startled when Kirishima's phone rang and he answered it with a concerned ‘hello’.
“Kirishima? Bakugou's parents have dropped by the hospital and wanted to know if you two
were on your way back.”

“Oh,” Kirishima said, looking to Bakugou. “Your parents are at the hospital. Did you want to
turn back now?”

All this talk was exhausting. Bakugou drained the rest of his drink. This was probably
enough for today.

“Yeah,” he agreed, and Kirishima relayed the answer before they both started back. Bakugou
took Kirishima's hand more instinctively than out of an actual need. Still, Kirishima only
smiled, squeezing his hand and walking close to his side. Rush hour wasn't all that
concerning with such a sturdy hero at his side.

…..

Bakugou liked Kirishima's hands. They were rough, strong, warm, just like the man himself.
It never felt like a loss to accept his hand, his help, and even as they ventured out more and
more from the hospital and Bakugou slowly got used to the unpredictability of normal life, he
still found himself reaching for Kirishima's hand. It was probably a crutch he was giving
himself, but it felt more like an extra layer of security than a barrier to jump. Kirishima was
welcoming and open and never pushed him away; he always let Bakugou make his own pace
and merely did his best to keep up.

Bakugou still flinched sometimes when an Omega that wasn't wearing scent blockers walked
by. He still tensed when an Alpha spiked their scent, adrenaline telling him it was time to
fight. Loud sounds or fast movements could trigger memories, sending him careening into a
panic attack in the middle of the sidewalk. Every time it happened though, Kirishima would
get him somewhere safe, secluded, block him off from people passing by and talk to him in a
soothing voice until Bakugou could come back to himself. It was draining, but it was
progress.

Sometimes they'd get looks, sneers pointed at their joined hands or whispers behind their
back. It made Bakugou want to pull away, not wanting Kirishima to feel any repercussions
because of this, not with him being a top twenty hero and with the way the media
misconstrued things, but Kirishima only held him tighter, ignoring the glares and looking
only at Bakugou. Two guys or two women together wasn't exactly unheard of, but only if
they were an Alpha and an Omega, since Omegas could become pregnant by an Alpha
regardless of gender and therefore their relationships were seen as still ‘valid’. Any other
relationships beyond the typical man and woman though was still pretty taboo in Japan,
despite the fact that there were people who could shoot fire out of their hands or turn into
giants or had multiple extra limbs on their person.

“If you don't want to hold my hand, that's fine,” Kirishima said when Bakugou had brought it
up, “but if you're just worried about what other people think, you don't have to be.” Kirishima
paused, dawning realization crossing his features and he looked incredibly apologetic. “I'm
sorry, I just realized I never told you. I came out publicly years ago, shortly after my hero
debut. Most everyone knows, I guess I'm not used to having to tell anyone anymore.”
Kirishima shrugged nervously, cheeks tinted pink. “I'm so sorry, I should have made sure you
knew though. I completely understand if you're not comfortable with that, dude.”

Bakugou snorted incredulously, heart racing without an explanation. “You calling me a

bigot?” He growled, offended.

“What? No,” Kirishima denied. “There's just a difference to being okay with gay people and
wanting to hug or hold hands with someone you know is gay. You've been through enough,
Bakugou, I don't want to stress you out by being too touchy.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, you don't stress me out. What do I care what gender you
like?”

Kirishima's smile was small but warmed Bakugou down to his toes. He didn't have an
explanation for that either.

Bakugou had never had much of a sexuality, even before getting taken. Whenever everyone
started talking about how hot or sexy people looked, he just...didn't get it. Sure, some people
looked attractive, but they weren't worth a distraction to him being the top hero. He'd touched
himself sometimes going through puberty, but it was more a perfunctory action than out of
desire; he'd never had fantasies or imagined anyone else there. And ruts had always been
mostly an annoyance and a chore. He'd have to take a week off school to hump some stupid
toy while his classmates learned more hero tricks and pulled ahead of him. He didn't really
know what his sexuality was; he didn't think he was gay, but he also wasn't positive he was
straight. And now all of that already unclear mess was scrambled up with the added trauma
that he had experienced and he just didn't know what to think anymore.

He guessed he did know that he didn't care about anyone's negative reaction to him holding
Kirishima's hand if Kirishima didn't care. So he kept holding it. Kirishima's smile whenever
he did was worth anything.

“Ooo, Bakugou! Look!” Kirishima tugged him a little closer by his hand, pointing across the
street to a dog being walked by its owner. Kirishima melted at the sight of any dog, instantly
naming them ‘puppy' regardless of actual age and letting them slobber all over him if he had
the chance to pet them.

Before he had a chance to drag them both across the street and see if the owner would allow
him to pet it though, a new voice rang out.

“Kirishima!”

Kirishima paused, instantly at alert as he looked around. Then he grinned as a blond man
came jogging up to him.

“Kaminari!” He shouted, equally as enthused. ‘Kaminari’ was followed by an equally happy

but less animated girl with black hair and phone-jack-looking cords hanging from her ears.
Her quirk?
“Hi, Jirou,” Kirishima greeted, more reserved but still with the same beaming smile. “You
guys shopping?”

“Just browsing really,” ‘Jirou’ said, shrugging casually. “We've both got the day off and just
wanted to kill time.”

“Bro!” ‘Kaminari’ said, mock-hurt in his voice. “Where have you been? No one's seen you
outside of a few jobs for weeks now. You never come out to karaoke nights or anything.”

Kirishima laughed anxiously. “Ah, just been busy, I guess,” he said, hand reflexively
squeezing Bakugou's. Bakugou eyed the two newcomers warily. They sounded like heroes if
they worked jobs with Kirishima, but he didn't know how he felt with other people knowing
the extent of what he'd been through and how Kirishima was helping.

The man seemed to notice him first, eyes widening as his gaze fell down to his and
Kirishima's hands.

“Oh, I'm sorry, did we interrupt your date?” he said automatically.

Both Kirishima and Bakugou blushed at that. “Not...really a date,” Kirishima muttered,
glancing at Bakugou for direction on what the other was comfortable with.

“Denki,” ‘Jirou’ scolded him, before turning to Bakugou with a kind smile. “I'm Jirou
Kyouka. And this is Kaminari Denki. We're old friends of Kirishima's,” she introduced.

“I'm like his best bud,” Kaminari bragged, before pouting. “And I can't believe he didn't tell
me he was on a date.”

Kirishima sighed. “I told you, it's not really a date.”

“Come on, man, you can't lie to me.”

“I'm not lying, bro, we're just—”

“We're still figuring things out,” Bakugou interjected, accepting the easiest out rather than get
into the entire story. “I asked Kirishima not to tell anyone until we figured out where we
wanted things to go. I'm Bakugou.”

Kirishima squeezed his hand, questions in his eyes, but he didn't voice any of them, instead
going with Bakugou's story.

“Nice to meet you, Bakugou,” Jirou said.

“Yeah, dude,” Kaminari grinned.

Bakugou's eye twitched. Oh god, there were two of them.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled.

Kirishima laughed, leaning a bit against Bakugou's side. “Don't call him ‘Baku-bro’ either,”
he added teasingly.

“What? But that's such a golden nickname!” Kaminari cried.

Bakugou rolled his eyes and Jirou laughed. “Just wait until you meet Ashido and Sero too.
They're like a meme-squad,” she informed him.

“Oh fuck no,” Bakugou denied reflexively, making her laugh at the horror on his face.

“Oh, speaking of! You guys should totally come to karaoke tonight!” Kaminari said, grinning
brightly.

“Ah, I don't know,” Kirishima hedged. “Maybe next time.”

“Dude, it's been weeks since you've hung out with everyone,” Kaminari said, frowning. “Just
for a little while?” He turned to Bakugou. “I swear you'll have fun, everyone would love to
meet you. Promise!”

“I don't sing,” Bakugou was quick to deny. “I'll pass.”

“Come on!” Kaminari begged. “There's lots of people that come and don't sing. Koda, Shoji,
Tokoyami. Well, sometimes we can talk Tokoyami into singing, but not always. But point is,
you won't be alone. It's just something fun to do.”

“Not happening,” Bakugou said.

Kaminari slumped.

Kirishima chuckled. “Sorry, bro, but I really will come next week. Promise.”

“Fine, fine,” he pouted, waving them off. “Go spend time with your not-boyfriend who's
afraid of us.”

Bakugou instantly bristled. “I'm not afraid of shit,” he growled defensively.

Kaminari froze, glancing through his bangs slyly as Bakugou glared. A slow smirk curled his
lips before he quickly hid it. “I'm just saying,” he continued, shrugging. “I mean, if you're
afraid to meet everyone, then that's just how it is. I've already said you wouldn't have to sing,
so it can't be that. Unless you're scared we might be able to get you to sing if you do come
and you sing horribly or something.”

“Fuck you!” Bakugou snapped with way more heat than Kaminari had been expecting. “I'm
not afraid to meet Kirishima's friends!”

“Well you did tell him not to tell any of us about you,” Kaminari pushed despite Kirishima's
increasingly desperate head-shaking.

“That's different! It's not because I'm afraid,” Bakugou hissed.

“Then prove it,” Kaminari challenged, raising a brow.

Bakugou seethed, teeth clenched tightly as he felt anger rush through his veins. Fuck this guy
for daring to say he's afraid. He's not afraid of shit. Who the hell cares about stupid karaoke?
And how many people could it even be? It wouldn't be that bad. He could go with Kirishima,
meet these losers, prove he wasn't scared, then leave. Easy. He'd like to see the look on this
extra's face then.

“Fine,” Bakugou snarled, hand squeezing Kirishima's tightly. “We'll be there.”

“Sweet!” Kaminari cheered, grinning. “Can't wait, Baku-bro!” He called out as he and Jirou
started to leave, Jirou pulling him away before Bakugou literally popped a vein.

“Don't fucking call me that!” Bakugou yelled, much to Kaminari's amusement, Kirishima
having to hold him back from chasing the other blond down.

“So. I guess we're going to karaoke tonight,” Kirishima deduced.

“I fucking guess we are,” Bakugou snapped before they started towards the stores that sold
clothing. Like hell was he showing up to this thing without impressing. He'd knock that damn
idiot's socks off.

…..

Later, while Bakugou was trying on a few different outfits, a thought made Kirishima sweat
and he dug his phone out of his pocket.

‘Hey. Is Midoriya coming to karaoke tonight?’

Ashido, a notoriously quick texter, answered in only minutes.

‘He hasn't said. I can ask him though. And btw, Kaminari told me about your not-boyfriend.
Way to keep a secret! :P’

Kirishima shook his head.

‘It's not like that. And that's okay, don't ask him if he's not already planning on coming. Just
wanted to know.’

He hoped that would be enough to deter her. He didn't want to get into why it would be a bad
thing for Midoriya to come. He didn't really want to think about how any potential meeting
between Bakugou and Midoriya might go. It would probably involve literal explosions and
possibly a lot of tears if yesterday said anything.

“Well? Tell me what you think already.”

Kirishima glanced up, almost doing a double take. Bakugou was wearing fitted black jeans
and a simple red button up, but oh. He'd never seen the other in anything other than
sweatpants. He...was not prepared for this.
“You look…” Kirishima gulped. “Great. Yeah. Totally.”

Bakugou eyed him for a moment, apparently weighing his sincerity, before a wicked smirk
crossed his face. Kirishima thought he might be having a gay crisis, especially since he was
supposed to be fake-dating him apparently. Which, speaking of…

“Hey, what was with what you told Kaminari and Jirou about us,” Kirishima said as Bakugou
turned to look at himself in the mirror.

Bakugou shrugged but Kirishima noticed the twitch of nerves in his fingers as he fidgeted
with the buttons on the shirt. “It was the simplest story. I didn't want to get into my shit with
them. Besides, it's not like I said we were actually dating, just talking. And what other reason
could you come up with for us to be holding hands?”

All excellent points, Kirishima conceded. “Still, they'll be giving you a hard time at karaoke
tonight,” he warned. “I haven't dated or even talked to someone like that in a while.”

Bakugou hummed, doing his best to look unconcerned as he turned to the side. “Does it
bother you?” He asked, finally looking over at Kirishima.

“I'm more worried it'll bother you,” Kirishima admitted. “I understand you not wanting to get
into your business with everyone though. I'm fine if this is how you want to play things, but
we're going to have to talk about it.”

Bakugou fought back the memory of hands on his body, unwanted touches and violations.
Kirishima would never do that. Everything from them hugging or sleeping together to
holding hands had been under Bakugou's request and control.

“I trust you,” Bakugou said, loud in the quiet of the dressing rooms. It echoed in his head too,
almost surprising himself in how much he meant that. When was the last time he'd trusted
someone so completely? It was almost terrifying to consider it. “I know you won't take
advantage or anything. I don’t know if I could date anyone for real right now, but just this, if
it's you...it should be okay.” It took a lot to admit even that much, but Kirishima was right,
Bakugou did owe it to him to explain. He couldn't just use the hero however he wished.
Kirishima was a person, a good person, and he deserved so much better than to be used as
some toy.

“Thank you for telling me,” Kirishima said, voice choking up. Bakugou sent him a weak
glower.

“Don't you fucking dare cry,” he grumbled.

Kirishima laughed, snorting and wiping his face. “I'm just really happy to hear that you feel
that way,” Kirishima said, smiling. “I would never hurt you and I'm glad you know that.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, turning away. “Whatever. You're too nice to hurt anyone. Don't
know how you even manage to fight anyone. You probably apologize when you punch
someone.”
 Kirishima remembered a bank robber he'd accidently hit hard enough to knock unconscious
with one blow, sending the man into a brief coma. He might've apologized that time.

“Uh,” he mumbled.

Bakugou shook his head, giving a quiet laugh, and Kirishima's chest squeezed. He would do
anything to protect that laugh.

“Let's find you something to wear too, shitty hair,” Bakugou teased. “I'm not going out with
you if you're wearing those damn crocs.”

Kirishima grinned and let Bakugou lead him, accepting the clothes Bakugou piled in his arms
for him to try on. It was nice, the normality. They weren't cooped up in the hospital, test
results hanging over their heads, or in a therapist's office recapping all the horrible things that
had happened. They were just friends, hanging out. Bakugou was smirking and teasing him,
laughing occasionally, and he seemed more at ease than Kirishima had ever seen him. It was
good to get his mind off of everything, Kirishima decided. It looked good on him too, that
freedom. Kirishima's face tinted pink at the thought and his chest fluttered as Bakugou held
his hand and brought them towards a restaurant, fingers laced tightly.

“Hurry the fuck up, I'm hungry,” Bakugou announced, tugging him harder.

“I'm coming, I'm coming,” Kirishima said. I'm already gone, he thought in realization, unable
to resist the pull of Bakugou's orbit. The man held his own gravity, pulling others into his
pace and sweeping away any distractions save for himself.

Bakugou bit into a slice of cheese pizza as their food arrived, pouting when a string of cheese
stretched before breaking and slapping sauce on his chin.

“Dumbass cheese,” he grumbled to himself, wiping his face off with a napkin.

I am so gone, Kirishima thought, helplessly enamored, and this is really bad. Really really
bad.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter warnings: contemplation/thoughts of suicide, torture, murder,

mentioned/implied forced cannibalism, mentioned attempted rape, discussions of rape,
panic attack, mentioned abortion, mentioned suicide, mentioned homophobia

(I think I got everything but please let me know if you notice something I should add as
a chapter warning)

So we finally get some shippy content. I really hope that came through naturally. I've
said Bakugou won't have a 'cure' and he won't, but that doesn't mean he can't get better.
Having bad days doesn't mean you can't have good days too. (I'm hurting him enough,
let me let me rage son be happy for a little bit. It's not like it's going to last long.) Also,
who else headcanons Ace/Demi Bakugou? Cause that's a headcanon I'd die for and that's
what I'm going with.

Side note: since I know it won't come up in this and because I really want to clarify but
it didn't sound natural in the fic, yes, Alpha females can become pregnant (but it's way
harder and less successful) but they can also impregnate Omega females or males in this
'verse.

I'd really like to hear you guys thoughts! I thought it would be around Christmas before I
posted this but once I finished editing and proofing and I couldn't resist posting.
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

At this point, I think I could probably remove the "Slow to Update" tag, but at the same
time, I'm worried that the moment I do that the words will stop flowing so freely.

Decisions, decisions.

CHAPTER WARNINGS IN END NOTES

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Kirishima really wasn't sure what to expect as they neared the karaoke place that night.
Firstly the hospital had not been happy with the idea of a patient being out at night. Kirishima
assured them he'd have Bakugou returned before too late. Bakugou had flicked the nice
receptionist off and Kirishima had drug him away under the weight of her unimpressed
glower.

Bakugou was in good spirits at least.

He didn't seem too concerned with the flashing lights of nightlife, walking next to Kirishima
but staring almost straight up to take in the shifting colors and signs on the buildings, almost
like he'd never seen them before.

“It was always dark in the cage and in the ring,” Bakugou murmured when Kirishima had
tentatively asked. “The lights don't bother me at all. I...I sort've like them. After so long in the
dark,” he said, a soft expression on his face. Kirishima smiled, unable to look at the lights for
fear of missing Bakugou's expression right now. The other man was beautiful. Kirishima
wished he could see it, especially during those moments when he thought himself a monster
or said how much he wished he had killed himself. It ached to hear him speak of himself like
that, especially when Kirishima could so easily see the brightness in him, the beautifully
amazing strong spark within him that made him so precious, and yet Bakugou seemed unable
to see it too.

“I don't know who all will be there, but some of them can get pretty wild,” Kirishima warned
him. “But they're all good people, they won't do anything to intentionally upset you. Just let
me know if it gets to be too much or if you want to leave early.”

Bakugou nodded, still halfway distracted. “I know, I know,” he muttered.

“And, Bakugou,” Kirishima said, tugging his hand gently and making the other stop walking
to look at him in question. He was going to miss that peaceful look on his face. “I've been
thinking about this and I hope Ashido won't interfere but I'd feel awful if I didn't give you a
heads up. So. There's a chance Midoriya might come tonight.”
Bakugou instantly tensed, pleasant calm giving way to thunderous rage. His mouth curled in
a nasty sneer and he jerked away from him, turning his back to him and breathing heavily.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima spoke hesitantly when he did nothing else other than breathe.

Bakugou hissed through clenched teeth. “Why didn't you tell me earlier?”

Kirishima slumped. “I wasn't sure and then I asked Ashido and she said he didn't say he was
coming and I told her to leave it but. I just.” He sighed. “I'm worried she might've tried to get
him to come now. And I don't want you to walk in blind since I know how you feel about
him. I don't necessarily see what you mean, but I wouldn't do something like that to you.”

Bakugou felt like an idiot. Here he was dressing up and playing nice with Kirishima's friends,
but for what? Deku was already there, already their friends, probably would have them turned
against him in minutes. All it would really take was one sentence anyways, one memory from
before he'd been taken, when words like vitriol that had spilled from him with callousness
and without thought of the possible repercussions.

Deku had left, gone to U.A., Bakugou's dream school, while Bakugou hadn't. Deku had
worked with his classmates, made friends, got his license, and Bakugou hadn't. He'd
graduated, done a successful internship, had even broken the top ten, and Bakugou hadn't.

Bakugou wanted to scream. This was so unfair. Deku didn't deserve to live everything he'd
ever dreamed. Bakugou had been shooting for number one, had only barely managed to get
his license after failing the first time, and hadn't even gotten a chance to start his hero career
before the villains had taken him. And now…

Bakugou looked down at his palms. He hadn't used his quirk for anything other than hurting
people in years. He didn't know if he could use it for anything else anymore. Bakugou could
vaguely remember flying with his quirk, remembered training until his shoulders ached and
his forearms shook. Even when exhausted and hurting, Bakugou had always been proud of
his quirk, excited at the prospect of using it to fight, to beat villains, to win. There had always
been a thrill to blast himself into the air and maneuver beyond anyone's touch with a few
well-directed explosions.

“Do you want to go back?” Kirishima asked him quietly.

Stupid Deku. He could've just went out and maybe not had a horrible time if it wasn't for
him. Bakugou had honestly been a little...eager. He hadn't had any real friends in high school
and as irritating as that Kaminari shit had been, he wasn't afraid of him and was actually kind
of entertaining. And Jirou had seemed cool. Plus, Kirishima would be there and he was…
well, Kirishima. Bakugou couldn't define how important the redhead was. He was sure any
friends of Kirishima's would be equally as welcoming. Probably. And Bakugou had always
sort of wanted to have that experience, to hang out with friends and just be goofy once in a
while. Not that he would ever ever say it out loud.

Bakugou bit his lip, refusing to let any water spill from his eyes. This was ridiculous. He
wasn't making sense, what he was feeling wasn't making sense. He wanted to go. He wasn't
going to let stupid fucking Deku ruin it. He knew Kirishima actually liked the asshole for
reasons unknown and no doubt his friends would too, so he would just have to ignore him if
he was there. But still, he wanted to go. They invited him, he'd gotten dressed up, Kirishima
had dealt with that nurse yelling at him for taking him out the hospital at night...it'd be a
waste to turn back now. And maybe Deku wouldn't even be there. How stupid would he feel
then, running away when there was nothing to run from?

“Let's just...go,” Bakugou managed to get out.

“You sure?” Kirishima asked.

“For gods’ sake, yes, I'm sure,” Bakugou snapped. He breathed, trying to calm down. “I'm
not...Stupid Deku isn't going to stop me.”

Kirishima brushed his wrist tentatively and Bakugou slowly forced his fist to relax before
taking Kirishima's hand.

“It'll be okay,” Kirishima promised.

Bakugou let himself believe him.

…..

They arrived fashionably late and there was a couple already taking a crack at a song. They
were giggling between lines as they dramatically serenaded each other while others sitting on
the couches around the walls of the room clapped and laughed. The music was loud, but the
laughter and fun in the air stemmed any fear Bakugou had of it triggering a panic attack. As
long as no one tried screaming or tried to sing a heavy metal song, he figured he'd be okay,
even if heavy metal and rock had always been his favorite genre.

“Kirishima!” His friends greeted him enthusiastically as they entered and Kirishima blushed
lightly at the attention, waving.

“Hey, guys!” He said, squeezing Bakugou's hand as he gestured to him. “This is Bakugou.”

“Oh, we know about your not-boyfriend,” a girl with brown hair teased. She smiled
innocently even though Bakugou got the feeling she was not innocent at all. “I'm Uraraka
Ochako,” she introduced.

“You came!”

Bakugou startled when an arm was suddenly thrown over his shoulder, fight or flight making
sparks pop in his palms before he managed to stop himself from attacking on instinct.

“Ah, dunceface,” he said, glaring at Kaminari who was entirely too close.

“What?! Dude! Not cool! You don't even know me,” Kaminari whined. Jirou laughed from
her perch on a couch, lifting a fist for Bakugou to pound. He accepted it automatically. He
knew she was cool.
“Welcome to our karaoke night!” A tall guy with navy hair said loudly. He chopped his hand,
gesturing to Bakugou. “I am Iida Tenya and we are pleased to have you join us!”

“Yeah, welcome, bro,” a black-haired guy that was spread out on one of the couches said,
smile bright and toothy. “Sero Hanta.”

One of the singers stopped then, realizing the newcomers, and she squealed loudly, rushing
over with a bounce of her pink curls. “Hello!” She gushed, leaning into Bakugou's space. His
eye twitched in irritation as she beamed. “Ashido Mina!” She very obviously gave him a look
over. His eye twitched again. “Good going, Kirishima, he's cute!” She gave Kirishima a
thumbs up, winking, and Bakugou and Kirishima both instantly turned red: Kirishima from
embarrassment and Bakugou from anger.

“What the fuck?” He said, incensed.

“Ashido, please,” Kirishima said. He leaned further into Bakugou's side, though for his own
comfort or in an attempt to keep Bakugou from blowing up, he wasn't sure.

“Who the hell do you think—”

“Bonjour!” Bakugou was cut off by the other singer joining in, a blond sparkling man who
had a touch of an accent. “I'm Aoyama Yuga!” He sang.

“Asui Tsuyu,” another girl spoke up, “You can call me Tsuyu.”

“I'm Shoji Mezo,” a large man with six tentacle-like appendages coming from his back said,
“and this is Tokoyami Fumikage.”

“Sato Rikidou! And this is Koda Koji!”

“Yaoyorozu Momo. It's a pleasure.”

“Hagakure Toru!”

“Hello, I'm Ojirou Mashirao.”

Bakugou stared at the large group blankly. “There's no way I'm remembering all you extras’
names,” he said deadpanned, honestly a little overwhelmed.

Kirishima chuckled nervously. “Uh, sorry guys, there's just a lot of people here tonight.
Almost the whole class, it seems.”

“Yes, we should have taken into consideration our numbers. We apologize if we

overwhelmed you with our introductions, Bakugou,” Iida shouted.

Bakugou scowled. “I'm not overwhelmed by shit. I just don't bother wasting brain cells
remembering extras.”

“Bakugou,” Kirishima chided gently.

Bakugou huffed.

“Well you're a character,” Uraraka said, still smiling that lying-ass ‘innocent’ smile of hers.
“Got quite a colorful vocabulary.”

“Fuck you,” Bakugou grumbled, moving to sit by Jirou and tugging Kirishima with him. He'd
lie if anyone called him out on it, but his hands were sweatier than usual and Kirishima knew
he was nervous.

“Come on, guys, he's not a science experiment,” Kirishima said as they all continued to stare.

“Yes, Kirishima is right, we came here tonight to have fun!” Iida seemed to be the unofficial
(or possibly official, what did Bakugou know?) leader of the group. “Who was next in the
queue?”

“Oh, Tsuyu and I had a song,” Uraraka said, standing to get the microphone before their song
started.

Bakugou let himself relax minutely now that everyone's attention wasn't on him.

“Everyone's just excited Kirishima brought someone to meet us that he's interested in,” Jirou
spoke up as Ashido started excitedly chatting with Kirishima on his other side. “The novelty
will wear off. Especially once they realize you have such a glowing personality,” she teased,
smirking at him.

“Fuck you,” Bakugou said, smirking right back.

“So what song would you like to sing?” Yaoyorozu spoke from Jirou's other side, smiling
kindly at him.

“I'm not singing,” Bakugou denied.

“Boooooriiiiing,” Sero called from the other couch. “You gotta sing, man.”

“What? Who's not singing?” Ashido piped in.

“Guys, if he doesn't want to sing—” Kirishima started.

“Ha, he probably can't sing,” Kaminari interrupted him, challenging smirk on his face as he
lifted his chin towards Bakugou. “Right, Baku-bro?”

“Baku-bro?” Sero repeated, grinning.

Bakugou hissed. “No,” he ground out.

Kaminari shrugged. “See? Can't sing.”

“I don't want to sing,” Bakugou corrected tersely. How mad would Kirishima be if he
exploded his friends?
“You could do a duet with Kirishima!” Hagakure said excitedly, arms flapping. Bakugou
glared in her direction, but he wasn't sure where her eyes were to make it the most effective.

Uraraka suddenly started a wicked rap and everyone cheered.

“We've got sake shots if you're just scared,” Kaminari pushed once Uraraka and Asui
finished. “Liquid courage.”

“I am not drinking,” Bakugou was quick to deny. The very idea of not being in control of
himself was terrifying. If someone attacked or came for him, how would he fight back if he
was drunk?

“More for us,” Kaminari shrugged, reaching over and taking a shot.

“Pace yourself this time, Denki,” Jirou said.

“I will, babe,” Kaminari promised with a goofy grin, leaning over to kiss her cheek. She
shook her head even as her cheeks reddened.

“Kirishima, you should do a song,” Ashido said.

“Yeah, you've missed like the last five karaoke nights,” Uraraka joined in, passing the mic to
him which he reluctantly took.

“Okay,” Kirishima laughed, flipping through the songs quickly. “Um. I guess I'll do—”

“That one!” Ashido said, leaning over his shoulder and pressing the button.

“Wha—Ashido! I'm not singing—”

“It's starting!” Ashido cheered with a mischievous grin, pushing him out of his seat and
towards the center of the room as the music started.

Bakugou smirked as the dance pop music queued everyone in on the type of song Ashido had
chosen. Kirishima sent her a withering look but raised the microphone just the same.

“I'll get you back for this,” he warned her cheekily. Then he started to sing in an annoyingly
false falsetto, bringing the room into an uproar of laughter.

Bakugou couldn't help but laugh himself as Kirishima tilted his head and poked his cheek
with his finger, dipping like a cutesy pop idol even though he was a six and a half feet tall
grown tank of a man. Kirishima laughed himself, fumbling over a few lines, and Kaminari
grabbed the other microphone and joined in with him, both of them doing some rough
choreography that loosely looked like the same dance. Kirishima locked eyes with Bakugou
and he grinned at him, doing a ridiculous little shimmy that made Bakugou snort and cover
his mouth.

Kaminari drug Sero into the mix, the trio finishing the last chorus with a wild flailing of
limbs that might have dancing. It was a glorious mess and hilarious to watch.
“See, it's fun,” Jirou said, poking his side with her elbow. Bakugou tensed at the unexpected
touch, eyeing her warily out the corner of his eye.

“I'm not singing,” Bakugou denied.

Kirishima landed on the couch next to him heavily. “Man, that was actually a bit of a work
out,” he announced.

“Mashirao, sing with me!” Hagakure said, pulling a blushing Ojirou up.

“We should have a girl group number next,” Uraraka suggested, piling together on the couch
with Yaoyorozu, Ashido, and Jirou.

“Oh yes! That'd be fun!” Yaoyorozu agreed happily.

“The boys could do a group song too,” Asui suggested.

“Yeah, you guys could do a boy band song so you all can do the same dance,” Uraraka said.

“I will not sing unless it is of darkness,” Tokoyami said.

“I would rather pass,” Shojo added almost sheepishly for a man his size.

Koda shook his head wildly.

“It's okay, we know you guys don't like to sing much,” Uraraka assured them.

“What? Why the hell do they get off with an ‘It's okay’?” Bakugou grumbled.

“We all did our dues, Bakugou,” Sato said, grinning. “Even if we didn't want to, everyone's
sang at least one song before.”

“Would you like to know the first song I sang?” Aoyama spoke aloud.

Bakugou ignored him. “That's a stupid rule. I didn't go to school with you extras.”

Aoyama pouted at being ignored. Shojo patted his back with one of his arms consolingly.

“You can't call people extras just because you don't know them,” Kirishima said, frowning.
“Come on, dude. This is supposed to be fun.” He smiled encouragingly. “You don't have to
sing if you don't want to, but it's okay to have fun.” He sent Uraraka and Kaminari a pointed
look. “They'll stop pushing since you've already said no.”

Both of them had the grace to look chastened. “Yeah, sorry,” Uraraka said.

“Ditto,” Kaminari nodded.

“What do you girls want to sing together?” Ashido asked, pulling the conversation towards
what the others were going to sing.

Kirishima leaned against Bakugou's side. “You okay?” He asked quietly.

“I'm fine,” Bakugou said, watching the group get up and get into some formation as the
music started.

“Sorry about them,” Kirishima murmured, wincing minutely.

“You told me they'd be a lot,” Bakugou shrugged. “Knowing you, I kind of expected it.”

Kirishima frowned, a spark of teasing in his eyes. “And what's that supposed to mean?” He
asked, lip twitching as he fought a smile.

Bakugou smirked, mouth opened for a retort.

“Sorry, we're late,” a newcomer cut in suddenly, opening the door. His hair was a duo of
colors, half red and half white. “We had an incident while on patrol and the paperwork took
some time to finish.”

“Yay, you came!” Ashido squealed, breaking off from the girl's song number. “Now the
whole crew is here!”

Bakugou froze, eyes widening as he took in the familiar figure that entered behind half-and-
half. Green hair, green eyes, the same damn freckles.

It was like Bakugou had lost all the air in his lungs. He hadn't seen Midoriya Izuku since
middle school, one of the last things he said to him was to jump off a roof, and he was—

Instantly, another realization crashed down on him. Deku knew. His mom said Deku had
heard about his rescue. Deku would tell everyone that he was some pathetic weak invalid.
Deku would ruin everything.

Bakugou didn't have words right then. Rage and fear and hurt and a wild desperation swirled
within him in a nasty, vengeful storm that was just waiting for an outlet to lash at.

“Kacchan?”

“Deku,” he seethed as excess emotion compounded within him.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima called out, reaching for his arm unsurely, as if he could sense the
storm brewing just under Bakugou’s skin. “Why don't we take a step out—”

“Kacchan!” Midoriya repeated, no longer questioning, the relief coating his voice palatable
and leaving a sluggish residue of tainted memories on Bakugou’s ears. Unexplainably,
Midoriya looked near-tears, stepping forward towards Bakugou as if to reach out to him, as if
he had something to cry about.

“Fuck you!” Bakugou screamed, instantly standing to keep from being at a lower vantage
point. He knew he was posturing, knew his scent had spiked, felt sparks at his fingertips. He
felt like he was about to implode.

“What the hell?” Someone yelled, not that Bakugou was paying attention.
“I'm so glad you're safe!” Midoriya cried, lower lip quivering. “I was so worried!”

“Worried? You were worried?” Bakugou spat, hateful spite a weapon and shield to the hurt
that spilled through him. “What, did you think I had a cold? That I was home sick? They had
me for four damn years, Deku!”

Midoriya instantly lost control of his tears. “I know!” He shouted. “I looked for you! Other
heroes looked for you! Everyone looked for you! You just disappeared! We didn't have any
leads! We didn’t know where to keep looking.”

“So you just gave up,” Bakugou snarled, chest aching. If even Deku, who'd always followed
him no matter how many times he'd pushed the other away, had given up on finding him, no
wonder he’d been with the League for four years. They hadn’t found him because they’d
stopped looking. He hadn’t been lost; he’d been abandoned.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima called out next to him. “Come on. Let's get you some air.”

“I didn't give up, Kacchan,” Midoriya refuted desperately. “I never gave up on you. I knew
we’d find you. And I knew you’d fight and refuse to give in to them until we did.”

Bakugou was shaking, trembling, absolutely inconsolable. He didn't know how he was
feeling, how to even begin to process it all. Anger, hurt, relief, betrayal? He couldn't handle
this. It was too much, too fast, too loud. His heart was beating deafeningly loud in his ears.
Someone in the room, an Omega, spiked their scent in an attempt to soothe his aggressive
posturing and he snarled, explosions popping from his palms. The sweet scent was
nauseating. He sucked in a ragged breath, unable to get enough oxygen.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima repeated, tone serious. He gestured to the side to Midoriya and
Todoroki, having them move from the door so he could lead Bakugou out without causing the
confrontation to worsen.

“Breathe,” Kirishima instructed as soon as they stepped outside. Bakugou inhaled deeply,
gasping for breath. Kirishima scanned their surroundings, leading him to an area of the
sidewalk that was out of the way before focusing on Bakugou completely. “In for four, hold
for seven, out for eight.”

Bakugou counted in his head, slowly regaining control of his breathing.

“It's okay,” Kirishima murmured.

“Fuck,” Bakugou stressed, pressing his palms to his eyes. “Fuck,” he repeated wetly, tears
finally making themselves known.

“Just breathe. It's alright,” Kirishima spoke lowly.

“Nothing's alright,” Bakugou refuted, shaking his head and pressing against his eyes harder,
to the point he saw a kaleidoscope of colors behind his eyelids.

“You're going to be okay,” Kirishima promised him. “I've got you.”

But did he really? Bakugou shook his head. Kirishima was on Deku's side. Everyone was on
Deku's side. Bakugou was just the jerk. The bully. The villain.

What could he do now? He couldn't go back in there. He could never see any of those people
again. Hell, he would probably not see Kirishima again. They'd already fought about Deku
once, and that was without Kirishima even seeing the absolute mess he was when it came to
that damned nerd. He didn't understand it himself half the time. The resentment and hurt had
just built, lingered, multiplied since they were kids and now all that was left was this
festering wound that was rotten and spread its taint further through Bakugou's life.

“Bakugou, please,” Kirishima said, gentle, strong hands at his wrists, coaxing his arms out,
away from himself.

Bakugou blinked open his eyes, dazed by the lights he'd thought were so mesmerizing. He
blearily focused on Kirishima, dispassionately wondering why he was crying. Kirishima gave
a small hiccup, thumbs rubbing his wrists that he was still holding as he gave a weak smile
even as his tears continued.

“There you go,” Kirishima murmured weakly. He was shaking. Why was he shaking? “Please
don't hurt yourself anymore, okay?” Hurt himself? Bakugou hadn't been—

Bakugou looked down at his hands, surprised and yet not to see blood dripping from his
claws down to the pavement. Where had he...As he watched, a drop slid from his chin, falling
from his face to meet its brethren on the ground.

“Oh,” Bakugou said mechanically.

“Bakugou, we need to get you to the hospital,” Kirishima said slowly. “I'm going to let go of
your hands so I can call an ambulance. Please don't hurt yourself, okay? I need you to
promise you won't hurt yourself.”

“I'm not...going to hurt myself,” Bakugou spoke slowly, still feeling out of it, exhausted
beyond belief and feeling empty of all emotion.

Kirishima nodded, smiling through sniffles and tears. “Good. Thank you. I'm going to call
them now, okay? I'm right here. You're okay.”

Kirishima continued to talk to him through it all, holding his hand and calling the ambulance.
Bakugou checked out during that conversation, honestly unable to focus with the way
everything felt like he was underwater. When the ambulance came, he got into it without a
fight, closing his eyes and letting the EMTs clean and bandage his face. Bakugou blacked out
on the ride back to the hospital. He wasn't positive if it was him just falling asleep or
something the EMT did.

…..

Bakugou sat across from Dr. Karusaki in silence. This was an emergency session called upon
by the hospital thanks to his most recent meltdown. While Bakugou wasn't yet willing to talk
about everything he had went through while the League had him, he'd gladly give every
minute detail if it meant he didn't have to try and explain Deku.

“Bakugou, you know you worried a lot of people,” Dr. Karusaki said. “You have a lot of
people who care about you and don't want to see you hurt.”

“I've already told you, I'm not suicidal. I didn't do it on purpose,” Bakugou grumbled, looking
down at the flowers on the table beside the couch.

Dr. Karusaki didn't respond.

“I didn't,” Bakugou refuted. “Besides, it's not like this is the first time I've hurt myself during
a panic attack. It happens. It sucks, but it happens. I wouldn't intentionally try to blind
myself. That's stupid.”

Bakugou knew that if it wasn't for Recovery Girl, he'd be blind right now. He'd definitely
have some wicked scars. He'd somehow drug his claws down his face and nicked his eyelid
to the point that he'd damaged an eye. If Kirishima hadn't gotten him to the hospital so
quickly, even Recovery Girl wouldn't have been able to save his eyesight, so he was told.

“Do you ever hurt yourself intentionally?”

“No,” Bakugou denied.

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“No.” There was only a small hesitation there. He hadn't though. Not since being rescued.
Not really, anyhow.

Dr. Karusaki frowned slightly. “It's normal to think of things like mortality after what you've
been through,” he said gently. “It's okay if you have moments where everything is hard. But
it's entirely different to actually do something to hurt yourself or to even have a serious plan
to hurt yourself.”

“I am not suicidal,” Bakugou growled, irritated. “How many times do I have to say it?”

Dr. Karusaki sighed. “Kirishima told me you were talking to yourself during your panic
attack. You said something about jumping off a roof.”

Bakugou's eyes widened. No. Kirishima couldn't know about that. He'd really lose him then,
he'd drop him like the trash he was, maybe even over the edge of the roof like he'd told Deku
to—

“Bakugou, back with me,” Dr. Karusaki said gently. “You know you can talk to me about
anything. I'm here to help you.”

“I'm not going to jump off the roof,” Bakugou denied. “That's not what that mean—what I
meant.”

“What does it mean then?”

Bakugou looked away, shame and guilt eating him from inside. He'd never told another soul.
Why would he? It definitely wasn't a moment of pride. He couldn't possibly admit to having
told someone to off themselves while also wanting to be a hero.

“Bakugou,” Dr. Karusaki coaxed quietly.

“In middle school,” he began choppily. He bit his own tongue.

“Middle school?” The doctor frowned. “Did you...plan to hurt yourself in middle school?”

“No,” Bakugou growled. Why couldn't he just get it, so Bakugou didn't have to say it? So he
didn't have to spell out how horrible he was? “In middle school, I told De—someone to jump
off a roof,” he forced out.

Dr. Karusaki hummed. “So you feel guilty,” he surmised. “Did they jump off the roof?”

“No.” Thankfully, Bakugou thought.

“Did you wish they had?”

Yes, Bakugou almost said, biting his tongue. No, he hadn't wanted Deku to jump off the roof.
That's ridiculous.

“I...don't know,” he whispered, tears prickling and he clenched his eyes shut. Of course he
knew. He didn't want Deku to kill him. He'd never wanted Deku to kill himself. Why would
he say he didn't know? He knew! He'd always known! Why was it so damn hard to admit that
he regretted it, that he was sorry for saying it? That it'd been stupid! That the whole entire
thing between him and Deku was stupid! What did any of that matter in the face of an evil
like All for One? Their issues were a children’s spat, a petty ant of an argument against a sea
of all the pain and anger and hurt he’d built up these last few years.

“It sounds like you have a complicated relationship with this person,” Dr. Karusaki
murmured soothingly. “Do you want to talk about them?”

Bakugou sniffled quietly. “I don't know,” he admitted. He was so tired of being angry, of
being hurt, of being the cause of others’ hurt. So very, very tired.

“You can take all the time you need,” Dr. Karusaki promised him.

Bakugou breathed slowly, keeping his eyes closed. They sat in silence for a long moment.

“Deku and I grew up together,” he started.

…..

Kirishima sat outside the room antsy, alternating between pacing the waiting room and sitting
with his leg shaking continuously.

“Our Katsuki is a strong one,” Mitsuki said, whether for his benefit or her own, he wasn't
sure.
“Yeah,” Kirishima agreed anyways.

“He's not suicidal,” Mitsuki continued.

Kirishima bit his lip. He didn't think Bakugou was suicidal, but he'd definitely hurt himself
before and he'd admitted to wishing he was dead or that he'd killed himself. Hearing him
mutter about jumping off a roof with blood trailing down his face from his own claws was
definitely not very confidence inducing.

“Kirishima, he'll be okay,” Masaru offered gently. “Katsuki has always felt...explosively. He
feels so strongly, giving his all to his anger, his happiness, his pride, but also his pain.
Whatever emotions he's trying to process is just too much for him to do alone. Dr. Karusaki
will help him.”

“I'm just worried,” Kirishima admitted, looking down at his hands. “I save people for a
living. I've seen hundreds of people in the midst of panic attacks or in awful shape. But I
never realized how different it was to see someone you care about break down like that and to
not be able to do anything to stop it.” He took in a shaky breath. “It's entirely different when
you know the person bleeding.”

“You did exactly what you were trained to do,” Masaru refuted. “You got him to hospital.
And talked him down from hurting himself more. You did everything right and we appreciate
you taking care of our son.”

Kirishima gulped. “Why does it feel like I failed then?”

“Oh, Kirishima.” Mitsuki got up, pulling Kirishima into a hug which he accepted.

“I shouldn't have brought him out,” Kirishima muttered pathetically.

“Katsuki is going to go whatever he wants to do,” Mitsuki denied.

Masaru patted his back. “We know you're taking good care of our son. As well as he'll let you
anyways, I'm sure.”

Kirishima laughed deliriously. It was so true. Bakugou was like a tidal wave, sweeping aside
everything else and dragging Kirishima along in a wild ride. It took everything he had to
keep from being dragged under.

The door opened and all three looked up to see Bakugou coming out with Dr. Karusaki
behind him. He raised a brow at the scene in front of him.

“Why are you all so fucking touchy?” Bakugou drawled.

Kirishima laughed again, along with Bakugou's parents. It was relieving, to see Bakugou
acting so normal when he'd practically shutdown completely at the karaoke studio.

Dr. Karusaki smiled at the scene. “Bakugou, let me know if you need anything. Otherwise
we'll just continue our normal sessions next Friday,” he said. He looked up at the others.
“Everything is going to be fine,” he assured them.
They all released a breath of relief. Everything was going to be fine.

…..

Bakugou shifted again on the bed, turning this way and that, before finally standing and
pacing the perimeter of his room. He felt anxious. Antsy. Like he had too much energy.

He stalked over to the window and lifted it, breathing in the air. He coughed immediately
after and slammed it shut, reeling at the sensory overload. He stumbled back into his bed,
sitting and blinking away the sudden dizziness.

Someone outside his room was wearing heels and they clicked noisily down the hall. Click,
clack, click, clack. There was a stumble of their rhythm and then a pause. Did they find the
room they were looking for? Stop at a mirror? To talk to a nurse?

Bakugou groaned, covering his ears. His claws itched under his skin, his eyes frantic in their
search for...something. What was wrong with him? He'd only ever felt this antsy when he was
in pre-ru—

Bakugou stiffened, sitting up straight in the bed and staring at the wall in horror.

Pre-rut.

Fuck no.

He slammed the nurse call button, barely managing to avoid shaking the whole bed with his
leg's nervous jittering. He had to be wrong. It was something else. He couldn't be going
through a rut. He hadn't had one since he'd tore into his—

Bakugou looked at the testosterone patch on his arm. Oh. Oh, that would probably explain
things.

“You called?” A nurse said, stepping into the room.

“I need to see Recovery Girl,” Bakugou demanded.

The nurse nodded, rushing to go get her.

“What's wrong, Bakugou?” Recovery Girl asked as she stepped into the room.

“I think I'm in pre-rut,” Bakugou said. “Would the patch cause that?”

She frowned. “Considering how long your body has been without any testosterone, it's not
unheard of. You've probably skipped a few ruts so now that you're getting back to regular
levels it probably kick-started one.”

“No,” Bakugou shook his head, “I can't go through a rut. You need to stop it.”

“There's no way to stop it without taking you off the testosterone treatment,” she said. “And
it has been helping you sleep, hasn't it?
Bakugou cursed. He had been able to get a bit more sleep lately. He still had nightmares
often, but he was able to get at least three or four hours a night usually and sometimes,
miraculously, he was even able to sleep without dreaming at all.

“I can't go through a rut,” Bakugou repeated. “Let me take suppressors.”

Recovery Girl shook her head. “I'm afraid you can't take suppressors after just starting
testosterone. Maybe after you've been on it longer we can try if you're still adamant, but
regulation is that we can't have a person start a second new medication when you just started
one. Your body is still getting used to having a normal level of testosterone every day.”

Bakugou groaned. “So you're saying you can do nothing,” he growled, anger spiking. He
knew it was probably ultimately due to the fluctuations in his hormones, but at the moment
he had to fight the urge to attack the older woman.

“Not at this time, no,” she said gently. “We'll make this as easy as possible for you though.
There's a scent-proof floor we can move you to during your rut and only Betas are on the
staff there. The hospital provides whatever items you may need to be most comfortable.”

Bakugou bit back a snarl. “I'm not moving,” he hissed. This was his room, dammit. They
weren't sending him to some unknown territory when he would be at his most vulnerable.

She frowned. “Bakugou, your scent—”

“This is a scent-blocking room,” Bakugou cut her off. “You all told me it was when I got
here. There's no reason I have to move rooms. Just tell your staff not to bother me for a few
days.”

“Someone will have to bring you food. And help you take care of yourself.”

“You think I can't take care of myself?” Bakugou sneered. “I've been taking care of myself
for years. I don't need anyone or anything. Just leave.”

“Bakugou,” she tried.

“Leave!” He shouted, a hint of a roar creeping in as heat rushed through his veins. Pre-rut
usually lasted two or three days before evolving into a full rut, and that usually lasted three to
five days. He could handle it. He'd be fine. He had to be.

…..

“Bakugou?”

Bakugou glared at the door as Kirishima poked his head in. He was currently forcing himself
to lie down instead of stalking around his room and was not feeling particularly chatty. They
still hadn’t really discussed what had happened at karaoke and he hoped that the Beta
wouldn’t bring it up now either.

“Hey,” Kirishima said softer at noticing him on the bed, smiling kindly when he met
Bakugou's eyes. He was considerate like that. Bakugou bit back a chuff.
“Are you okay?” Kirishima asked, brow furrowing. “You're not hurting are you?”

“What have they told you?” Bakugou barked angrily.

“Nothing,” Kirishima denied. “That's against patient confidentiality, dude. I'm asking because
you're lying down early in the afternoon and you're sweating pretty badly.”

Bakugou huffed, grabbing the towel from his table and wiping at his forehead. Ruts were so
disgusting, he hated this. The overheating, the excess energy, the spike in territorial instincts.
The never-ending hard-ons, regardless of if he was actually horny or not.

Absolutely disgusting.

“I'm in pre-rut,” Bakugou grumbled, annoyed. “Damn testosterone kicked it off and I can't
take suppressors.”

Kirishima frowned sympathetically. “Ah. Sorry to hear that,” he offered.

“You're a Beta. What do you know?” Bakugou snapped, before sighing. “This sucks,” he
added, gentler, a small concession.

“Do you need anything?” Kirishima asked.

“For them not to try and move me,” Bakugou growled.

“Okay,” Kirishima agreed, “but I meant like stuff to...prepare. For your rut.”

Oh. He meant toys. Bakugou scowled.

“No,” Bakugou denied. He glanced down at his bed, suddenly unsure about its state.
“Maybe…” No. He couldn't ask for that. He shook his head. “Never mind,” he said. “I don't
need anything.”

“Bakugou, if you need something, I'll get it for you,” Kirishima promised him. “Even if it's
something unconventional.”

Bakugou eyed him from the corner of his eye. He'd done it before, he would probably be
willing to do it again. Maybe?

“Could I borrow another of your jackets?” He mumbled. The idea of going through a rut
alone, knowing the hospital would probably not let Kirishima or anyone visit regardless of
whatever Bakugou said...He bit his lip. He didn't know if he liked the idea of being alone
anymore.

Kirishima seemed surprised. “I mean. If that will help make it easier, sure,” he agreed after a
moment.

“I just don't want to smell only this damn hospital for half a week,” Bakugou tried to explain
in a rush. “And you probably won't be allowed here or whatever. I'm not hitting on you.”
Kirishima laughed. “I know, I know, don't worry. One of my friends in high school was ace,
I'm well aware that a rut or heat does not mean interest or consent. They taught me it can just
be about comfort too.” He shrugged.

Bakugou blanked. “Ace?”

Kirishima tilted his head. “You know, like asexual?”

Bakugou blinked. “Like with microbes?”

“No, dude, like with people,” Kirishima said, brow furrowing.

Bakugou blinked again. “How?” He couldn't help but ask. Was that a quirk?

“What do you mean, how?” Kirishima said. “They don't experience sexual attraction. Don't
tell me you—” He cut himself off, actually taking in Bakugou's look of confusion. “You've
never heard of asexuality in humans, have you?” He asked, gentler this time.

“No,” Bakugou admitted, feeling like he may have just avoided a stern lecture.

“Okay,” Kirishima said, nodding. “That's okay. A lot of people haven't. It just means
someone doesn't experience sexual attraction. There's varying levels, like demisexuality or
the gray-ace spectrum, and just because someone is ace doesn't automatically mean they don't
have or even enjoy sex. I'm not an expert though. Everyone is different. But it's just a lack of
desire or need for sex, basically.”

Bakugou took that in. “You mean that's normal?” He asked before he could stop himself.
Years of high school flashed before his eyes in a new light, people dating or asking him when
he'd get a girlfriend when all he cared about was being the best. Girls and Omegas were a
distraction and making out looked disgusting and messy. He'd never even tried imagining
anything further. And he'd definitely never thought there was a name for it.

Kirishima smiled. “Yeah, it's normal,” he assured him.

Bakugou hummed, thoughtful. “Oh,” he acknowledged.

Kirishima let him process that for a moment. “Is there anything else I can do? Other than just
leaving one of my jackets here?”

“Doubt it. It's going to suck either way.”

“I'm sorry,” Kirishima said.

“Don't apologize, idiot,” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You didn't do anything.”

“I still feel bad that I can't help you,” Kirishima said. “You've been through enough. I wish I
could make it easier for you.”

Bakugou shrugged. “It's whatever. I've dealt with ruts since I went through puberty. They
always suck.”
Kirishima nodded reluctantly. “Well I'm happy to do more if you need anything else,” he
offered.

Bakugou nodded, still mulling over the earlier information.

…..

“Mom, dad: I think I'm asexual,” Bakugou announced in a blase tone when his parents
visited later, not even looking up from his computer where he had ten different tabs open on
the subject. It was like he'd told them the weather. Kirishima glanced up from where he'd
been reading emails on his phone, taking in their reactions.

Mitsuki blinked, confused. “Katsuki, just because this happened to you,” she began.

“What? No,” Bakugou said, finally looking up to frown at her. “This has nothing to do with
that. I'm talking about me. Like even before. I've been reading up on this and it fits.”

Mitsuki frowned. “Katsuki, you don't have to force yourself into anything right now, but
you're going to want a relationship—”

“I don't know if I'm aromantic,” Bakugou relented, shrugging and looking back at his
computer like the matter was settled. “I haven’t really gotten into that side of stuff. But I'm
definitely ace, at least somewhere on the spectrum. Did you know about any of this stuff? I
don't remember them ever talking about it in school.”

“It's fine to have not found the right person yet,” Mitsuki said. “You don't have to let this
experience define you.”

Bakugou glared at her now. “I already told you. This has nothing to do with that. I felt like
this before too.”

Mitsuki nodded. “I know you want to tell yourself that but—”

“Why won't you believe me?” Bakugou demanded. “This fits. It's exactly what I felt in high
school, I just didn’t know there was a word for it.”

“A lot of people feel this way after—”

“Mitsuki,” Masari interrupted her, touching her arm lightly. “Let's not upset him.”

“I'm not upset,” Bakugou grumbled. “Why is it so hard to believe that I'm ace?”

Mitsuki rolled her eyes, like she couldn't stop herself. “It's not a real thing, Katsuki. But if it
makes you feel better, we can go with it for now.”

Bakugou stiffened, surprised hurt cutting deep. He opened his mouth to argue but he didn't
know what to say.

“Are you doing okay?” Masaru asked, kind smile on his face. Like his mother hadn't just
figuratively slapped him.
“Fine,” he snapped, turning away to glaring at his computer. He slammed his laptop shut,
barely keeping from throwing it onto the desk.

Mitsuki frowned. “No need to throw a tantrum. We said we'd go with whatever made you feel
better,” she said.

Kirishima felt distinctively awkward, nudging his hand against Bakugou's carefully but
unsure what to say. His moms had been nothing but supportive when he came out to them. He
didn't know how to react to something like this. He was thinking Bakugou probably didn't
either, most likely hadn't seen it coming with the way he'd announced it so casually.

“I mean, look, if you’re gay, that's fine,” Mitsuki said. “There's lots of gay people in the
world. You don't have to make up some new sexuality—”

“It's not made up,” Bakugou stressed through gritted teeth. “There's a lot of asexual people
too.”

“Katsuki, this whole thing doesn't mean you're broken, you don't have—”

“I'm not broken,” Bakugou hissed angrily. “Who said I was broken? I'm just asexual.”

“Would you quit saying that?” Mitsuki snapped.

“Why does it bother you?” Bakugou shouted. “I'm asexual, mom. Asexual. Asexual!”

“I said stop it!”

“Why?” Bakugou demanded. “It's what I am! Asexual!”

The slap echoed through the room.

Then everything went to hell.

Bakugou's reaction was instinctive. He snapped at Mitsuki's hand, leaping at her with sparks
in his palms. Kirishima barely managed to catch him before he cleared the bed, holding his
back to his chest as Bakugou roared his fury.

“Out! Out, out, out!” Kirishima shouted furiously, glaring at the other two as Bakugou
struggled in his hold. “And don't even think about coming back unless Bakugou asks for
you,” he snarled, hardening his arms as Bakugou clawed and bit at him in a rage-fueled
frenzy, explosions going off against his skin.

Masaru tugged at Mitsuki's hand, though the Alpha was too busy posturing to react. She
roared back at Bakugou, only making the entire situation worse as Bakugou's scent spiked to
something beyond enraged, the pre-rut egging on his instincts to fight.

“Bakugou, please,” Kirishima murmured against his ear, holding him tighter as Bakugou
writhed in his grip. “You've got to calm down.”

The door slammed open and Aizawa stood there, eyes glowing and hair floating around him.
“Get them out of here!” Kirishima said.

Aizawa nodded, moving to direct the two out, trusting Kirishima to Bakugou himself.

“They're leaving. It's okay. No one is going to hurt you. Everyone is leaving your territory.
It's okay. You're okay,” Kirishima kept murmuring, his best attempt to soothe while internally
fuming.

Aizawa glanced behind him once they were clear of the doorframe, holding the doorknob in
question. Kirishima nodded and Aizawa let it close.

“There. See? You're safe. No one else in your territory. Just me and you. It's okay.”

Bakugou snarled wordlessly, eyes fixated on the door, breathing fast. He'd stopped struggling
though, no longer actively fighting Kirishima's hold.

“You're okay,” Kirishima promised, resisting the urge to drop his head against Bakugou's
shoulder wearily as the adrenaline wore off. If he hadn't reacted it time, it was possible that
Bakugou might've just tore his mother apart.

Bakugou huffed, leaning back against him and closing his eyes, seeming just as weary.
Kirishima thought, fuck it, and rested his head on Bakugou's shoulder, face turned towards
his neck as they both worked to slow their breathing.

“Fuck,” Bakugou muttered.

“Mmhmm,” Kirishima hummed in agreement.

“She hit me,” Bakugou said.

“She did,” Kirishima confirmed, flash of rage being quickly dampened.

“All I said was that I was asexual,” Bakugou said hollowly. As if it was the why that
confused him, not that she’d slapped him at all.

“I know,” Kirishima murmured, holding him closer.

“I didn't think that was a bad thing,” Bakugou said.

“It's not.”

“Then why did she…?”

“I don't know,” Kirishima muttered, anger getting through and tainting his tone as he
embraced Bakugou tighter, as if he could protect him from anything with himself as a shield.
He'd definitely be willing to, if he could. He was so done with people hurting Bakugou. “I
don't know.”

…..
Bakugou's rut hit him the next night, leaving him feverish and anxious. He snarled at any of
the nurses who tried to enter to bring him food or anything else. The first had dropped the
food on the ground, an orange rolling close to his foot, but he growled at the foreign scents
that layered it and refused to eat anything. One nurse tried to bring him toys, a fleshlight,
dildo, and some lube, and Bakugou had threw them at her as she ran out of the room.

He didn't need toys. He may have an erection but he had no intention of touching it. He just
needed. He needed…

Bakugou pressed back against the wall, on edge. He panted through his mouth, his stomach
growling hungrily, and he eyed the orange mistrustfully. His mind said it was probably fine
but his instincts said poison, sabotage, betrayal and his paranoia grew.

All for One promised you'd never get away. The heroes couldn't have caught all of them. One
of them could be here. They're coming for you. They won't let you stay free.

Bakugou ignored his hunger, pressing further into the corner, curling Kirishima's jacket
tightly around him like the man himself so often did.

Clean scent. Warm scent. Safe scent.

He dozed in and out of sleep, refusing to move from the corner. He couldn't afford to let
someone get to his back when he was this out of it. If All for One pitted him against another
Alpha that was quick enough, he'd never make it. He had to keep himself mindful, had to be
prepared for the door to open and for him to be forced back into the ring.

“Bakugou?”

Bakugou snarled, shivering, eyes dazed and cloudy.

“Oh, Bakugou,” Kirishima said, closing the door and coming closer. He knelt down to be on
his level, approaching slowly. “Bakugou, come on, come back. You're safe,” he murmured.

Bakugou groaned and his stomach growled. He blinked without seeing, mind elsewhere.
When the nurses had called Kirishima after two days of not being able to enter the room and
check on Bakugou or give him food, he had rushed over, unsure of what he'd find within the
room.

“Come on,” Kirishima coaxed him gently, hardening prickling his skin as he bravely reached
out to get Bakugou to his feet.

Touch came, but not unfriendly. Bakugou hummed, accepting as he leaned closer to the
intruder.

Not intruder, he corrected himself sluggishly, mind whirling through a dazed heat and
aggression. Kirishima. He let himself be pulled to his feet before stepping closer into
Kirishima's space and nuzzling closer. Scent wrong, he thought oddly, humming as he spread
his scent on the other. Kirishima was his, he should smell like his.
“Bakugou,” Kirishima called, letting the man nuzzle against his neck almost drunkenly. The
fact that he wasn't tearing out his throat was a good sign, he figured. “This way,” he said,
pulling Bakugou towards the bathroom and turning on the shower. “Shower,” he said, trying
to get Bakugou to turn towards the water.

Water. Shower. Sweaty. Bathe, Bakugou thought slowly, nodding as he put it together and
started to strip. Kirishima was quick to duck out of the room, though he couldn't help but
catch a glance at the myriad of scars covering the expanse of Bakugou's back. He turned
away in respect to his privacy, closing the door all but a crack in case Bakugou needed
something before he set about cleaning up the room. He grabbed the orange off the floor,
setting it on the tray beside the food he'd brought. He also grabbed his hoodie off the floor,
shaking it off and putting it on Bakugou's bed.

Bakugou came out the bathroom shortly after that, eyes looking a little clearer.

“Kirishima?” He asked, like he'd thought he'd imagined the other’s appearance.

“I'm here,” Kirishima confirmed.

Instead of crawling onto the bed like Kirishima expected, Bakugou sat in his lap, curling up
and nuzzling under his chin with a contented rumble.

“Uh,” Kirishima said, unsure of what to do with a lapful of rut-drunk Alpha.

“Shhhh,” Bakugou murmured, awkwardly reaching up and patting at his face. Kirishima
snorted as he tried to hold in a bark of laughter.

Kirishima held him for a moment, letting Bakugou scent him to his content. He frowned
though when his eyes landed on the untouched stack of testosterone patches that had been left
for Bakugou to self-administer during his rut.

“Bakugou? Have you changed your patch since your rut started?” He asked.

“Can't let them get me,” Bakugou murmured, and Kirishima's face twisted in confusion. “The
villains are everywhere, Kirishima. They don't want me to be free.”

“I won't let them take you back,” Kirishima said, reaching over to open a new patch and
pulling the one on Bakugou's arm off. “Promise,” he added as he smoothed the new patch
over his skin.

“So hungry,” Bakugou slurred almost incoherently, slumping against him. “So sleepy.”

“I'll take care of you,” Kirishima assured him. He reached for the orange, letting Bakugou
doze as he peeled the fruit. “Here,” he said, directing a piece to Bakugou's mouth once he
finished. Bakugou hummed, eating the fruit as Kirishima slowly fed him.

“Get some sleep,” Kirishima said, deciding that was enough for now. He resituated him to be
more comfortable before leaning back in the chair. “I'll stay,” he murmured against the top of
Bakugou's head.
“Trust you, ‘shima,” Bakugou mumbled, breathing in slowly. “Good ‘shima.”

Kirishima chuckled lowly, fighting off the urge to coo. He didn't what combination of
hormones was causing the normally prickly man to be acting almost drunk, but he didn't
mind it.

…..

Warm.

Bakugou hummed as he came into consciousness slowly. He felt warm. Relaxed. Well rested.
He let his eyes linger closed as he nuzzled into his pillow, breathing in the comforting scent.
He felt good. Better than he could ever remember feeling. He wanted to hold onto this
forever.

His pillow shifted, moving him, and Bakugou groaned.

“Stop,” he grumbled lowly. “‘S good.”

His pillow chuckled. “You still rut-drunk?”

“Not drunk,” Bakugou refuted, holding onto any residues of sleep in vain. “Don't go away,”
he mumbled disappointedly, consciousness pulling him out of the pleasant haze he'd woken
up to. “Dammit,” he muttered lowly.

He blinked open his eyes, resigned, and met Kirishima's humored look evenly. “Why am I in
your lap?”

“You sat down there and went to sleep,” Kirishima said, smile curling his lips.

Bakugou huffed, glancing over at the bed. It looked cold.

“You going to make me move?” He asked.

“Not at the moment, if you don't want to.”

“Cool,” Bakugou nodded, setting in with his head against Kirishima's shoulder tiredly. “You
smell nice,” he said calmly.

“So you are still rut-drunk,” Kirishima murmured, hands massaging Bakugou's back and
shoulders lightly. It felt good and Bakugou hummed, letting his eyes close pleasurably.

“I'm not,” Bakugou denied. “Just...feel good. Slept good. Kind of hungry though.” He
frowned in thought.

“That's good,” Kirishima said. “Want me to go get you something to eat?”

“Not yet,” Bakugou said. “Just. Let's just sit here for a minute.”
 “Alright.” Kirishima's jaw ruffled the top of Bakugou's hair and the Alpha felt settled. At
peace.

“You weren't doing so hot when I got here,” Kirishima whispered after a long while of sitting
in silence. “You scared me.”

“Didn't feel right. This place isn't mine. It's not safe. Everything felt wrong,” Bakugou tried
to explain.

“Well you went two days without eating or doing much of anything except attacking anyone
who came in the door,” Kirishima said.

“Rut makes me territorial,” Bakugou shrugged. “That hasn't changed apparently.”

Bakugou shifted and suddenly became aware of the erection he was sporting. He tensed,
wondering if Kirishima had noticed. He wasn't horny, just...oddly relaxed. He didn't want to
draw attention to it though or make things awkward. He curled into Kirishima, pulling his
legs up a little closer to his chest and angling his lower half away from him.

“I think your fever broke while you were asleep,” Kirishima said obliviously. “You're
probably in the tail end of your rut.”

“Thank fuck,” Bakugou grumbled. “Rut is a fucking pain.”

Kirishima laughed.

“Go make yourself useful and get me something to eat,” Bakugou demanded.

“As you wish,” Kirishima teased, easily standing while holding Bakugou in his arms without
even a sign of strain. Bakugou flailed, clutching onto Kirishima at the unexpected movement.
Kirishima grinned mischievously just before dumping him onto the bed in a wild tangle of
limbs into the sheets.

“Goddammit!” Bakugou snapped, wrestling with the sheets and the sudden onslaught of cold
from being thrust away from his heat source. “Kirishima!” He snarled, blond head finally
popping free. Kirishima waved cheekily from the door before he left to go get food.
“Asshole,” Bakugou muttered, even if he didn't mean it. The smile on his face and the
lightness in his chest said so.

Chapter End Notes

CHAPTER WARNINGS: quick mention of drinking (they're all over the age limit
though), panic attacks, self harm (during panic attack), dissociation, discussion of
suicide ideation, acephobia/acephobic language, child abuse/implied child abuse
Also a general warning because of rut. I didn't handle it in the typical manner so it's not
like kink or anything, I don't think, but it's there so. Yeah.

(as always, please let me know if you notice something I should add as a chapter
warning)

I was told that it might be an issue for some people that I put chapter warnings at the end
instead of the beginning of the chapter. I thought AO3 gave you the option to go straight
to end notes if you want and my intention was to keep people from being spoiled by the
nature of the chapter if they'd like to not know. However, I can change that if it's
bothering anyone. Please let me know if you'd like me to start putting them in the
beginning notes and I'll start with the next chapter.

I have complicated feelings about this chapter. Kind of covered a lot of things that
happened really quickly. Hopefully it flows okay though, nothing too abrupt. I kind of
want to write an explanation about everything I put in here, but at the same time I want
my writing to stand for itself and I hope I've managed to speak about my
intentions/plans through my writing. If anyone has any questions though, please feel free
to ask.

(I've also had a couple questions about revealing who I am, which honestly kind of
surprised me, I didn't expect anyone to like this that much. Personally, I decided to make
this fic anonymous because it is absolutely nothing like anything I've ever written before
and I wasn't sure about the response I would get back. I promise you're not missing
much, all my other KiriBaku fics are, like, pure fluff basically. That being said, I might
do a reveal once this is finished, maybe. I'm thinking about it.)

Anyways, hope everyone has happy holidays and stays warm this winter season!
 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

So there I was barbeque sauce on my titties...

Kidding.

But really, there I was, all responsible with the next chapter ready to go about a month
after the last one like I’m actually someone who has their life together and can make
regularly scheduled updates, and then I was rereading and editing and then a scene
wanted to be added so I added. Then there was another scene and another, and the next
thing I know this chapter was created and it. Just. Wouldn’t. End. So yeah, that--along
with the last few months being kind of shitty as far as my personal and work lives go--is
why this chapter took so long. Really sorry about the long wait!

That being said, should something similar occur again, know that I’m not planning on
giving up on this one, guys! This is my little anonymous baby, I have to see it through to
adulthood, lol.

Hope you like it!

CHAPTER WARNINGS IN END NOTES

See the end of the chapter for more notes

They didn't talk about karaoke night. Kirishima probably wanted to, but he didn't bring it up
and Bakugou definitely wasn't going to. There was a lot they didn't talk about, actually.
Things Kirishima didn't want to bring up for fear of upsetting Bakugou, and things Bakugou
would rather forget happened than actually address.

Which left them sitting quietly in Bakugou's hospital room, Kirishima fiddling with his phone
one-handed while Bakugou traced random lines on the palm of his other hand.

“What do you think I should do now?”

Kirishima looked up at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

Bakugou shrugged, looking away, both hands tightening around Kirishima's. “I've
always...had a direction. A goal. I don't really know what my goal is now.”

Kirishima frowned in confusion. “You're going to be a hero, aren't you?”

Bakugou felt a pang in his chest. He wasn't a hero. He was barely a decent human being. A
hero was a laughable idea. Dreaming so foolishly was what got him in this mess in the first--
Kirishima squeezed his hands, leaning forward and drawing Bakugou's eyes back to him.

“You're going to be a great hero,” he declared, eyes meeting Bakugou's evenly.

Inexplicably, Bakugou felt his face flushing, and he couldn't look away. His heart raced, his
palms felt sweaty, but god, he believed him.

“I better get to fucking work then,” he managed to say.

Kirishima beamed. Bakugou's heart stuttered and he thought he wouldn't mind seeing him
smile like that more. Especially if he always aimed it at him.

…..

“I want to start training again,” Bakugou told Dr. Karusaki at his next session. “And I need to
get out of the hospital.”

Dr. Karusaki hummed. “You sound pretty determined today. Did something happen?”

“I can't just sit around being pathetic,” Bakugou announced. “Shit happened, but if I don't
fight and win, then that motherfucker and his goons won. Well fuck that shit. I'm going to be
the best goddamn hero this world has ever seen, and I can't do that from a fucking hospital.”

Dr. Karusaki tried to hide his smile. Improvement came with this one in leaps and bounds.

“Well you should start small,” he said. “Do you and Kirishima still go outside the hospital
occasionally?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you had any other attacks or negative experiences while doing that?”

Bakugou shook his head.

“Well then, tell me this,” he said, leaning forward. “Think about your life before you were
taken. Not your hero course experiences, but just normal daily life things. Taking the subway,
crowds, sirens passing, grocery shopping, unexpected surprises. Imagine yourself in those
situations now. Can you foresee them triggering anything negative?”

Bakugou frowned, closing his eyes and trying to seriously imagine himself in the subway,
pressed up against the side of the car with a crowd of people suffocating around him. He
thought about babies crying suddenly or speeding cars rushing past when he was about to
cross the road.

“...maybe,” he relented, open his eyes and slumping in disappointment.

Dr. Karusaki studied him for a minute. “It's okay to not be ready to plunge headfirst into
unknown territory,” he said. “But if you're ready to start making bigger steps, we can find a
safer middle ground. Why don't you and Kirishima try going out for longer periods of time
and maybe try taking the subway for a stop or two. Short trips at first, not during peak times.
Then maybe accompany him on a few errands, grocery shopping or stopping by his agency
for quick visits. It's unfortunate that exposure can be one of the greatest methods to overcome
trauma, but be careful not to push yourself too hard. It's okay if you can't do it all right now.
Just think about where you were weeks ago in terms of comfort levels. You've made a lot of
progress. More will come with time and purposefully going beyond what you can handle now
could set you back.”

Bakugou nodded. He could do that.

“And as far as training goes…” He continued, frowning. “Have you used your quirk at all
since you were rescued?”

Bakugou looked to his palms, nodding. “Just, like, instinctually stuff mostly. Like when
someone startles me or during a panic attacks. Sometimes when I get deep enough in my
head to not think about it.”

“But not purposely,” Dr. Karusaki clarified. Bakugou shook his head. “Okay. Well something
like that can be extremely triggering, considering, but from what you're saying, you're not
going to be happy never using your quirk for the rest of your life, right?”

“Fuck that,” Bakugou instantly snapped, hands fisting tightly. It was his quirk, dammit. He
wasn't letting that bastard take it from him.

Dr. Karusaki nodded. “That's what I figured.” He sighed. “It's times like these I wish
psychology could offer more exact answers. I can't tell you when you're ready to start using
your quirk again. I can't promise you that you won't trigger yourself into a panic attack. I'm
not sure I would recommend starting training at this stage, but perhaps starting small and
using your quirk for things other than fighting might make the transition a little easier.” He
paused, watching Bakugou carefully. “And I know you said you didn't want to take any
medication, but if you're serious about starting to push yourself like this, I can write you a
prescription for some anxiety medication to be taken as needed. You could decide not to use
it if you want, but it would give you the option at least if you feel a panic attack coming.”

Bakugou scowled. “I don't need medication.”

“I'm not saying it's something you have to take regularly or even at all. I just want you to
have something to help if you accidentally push yourself too far.”

Bakugou bit at his cheek. “What kind of medication is it?”

…..

“How have you been doing?” Dr. Karusaki asked Kirishima.

“Pretty good, I think,” Kirishima said, shrugging. He looked to the side with a thoughtful
frown. “To be honest, Bakugou and I are basically just not talking about anything that
happened. I don't want to push him and make anything change. So. We're still okay. I think.”
“I won't go too much into detail, but you're doing fine,” Dr. Karusaki assured him. “Are you
still feeling low like you were last time? You mentioned feeling like you weren't able to do
enough.”

Kirishima sighed. “I mean, it kind of comes and goes, but that's been most of my life really.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone about it?”

“Like, a therapist?”

“Like anyone.”

Kirishima bit his lip. “Not...really. I used to make a lot of self-deprecating comments and my
friends and my moms both would encourage me to stop saying that kind of stuff, even
jokingly. I'm not sure anyone knew that I actually felt that way. I'm better now though,” he
added to assure the doctor, smiling.

“And do you feel yourself strained or having those sorts of thoughts return whenever you
help Bakugou?”

Kirishima shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. Usually they only come when I'm alone.
Honestly--” he paused, eyes flicking away.

“Honestly?” Dr. Karusaki prompted.

“Honestly...I feel stronger whenever I'm around Bakugou,” Kirishima admitted. “I don't know
what it is, but something about him just makes me feel like I can handle whatever gets
thrown at me.” He hesitated. “Does that make me a bad person?”

Dr. Karusaki raised his brows in bemusement. “Does it make you a bad person to feel strong
when you're around someone you want to protect?” He asked.

Kirishima flushed lightly, ducking his head. “I meant, to feel strong when Bakugou's having
all these flashbacks and panic attacks,” he corrected.

Dr. Karusaki shook his head. “Bakugou has been progressing at an exceptional rate
considering all he's been through. If anything, I'd say you make him feel stronger too.”

Kirishima did blush then. “Really?”

“Have you talked to him about any of this?”

Kirishima fiddled with his fingers nervously. “No, not really. There's a lot of land mines I
don't want to accidently set off, you know?”

Dr. Karusaki sighed. “I'm going to be honest with you, Kirishima. You're doing very well
with Bakugou, especially for someone who hasn't had any training in this sort of thing, but
you shouldn't feel as if your feeling or concerns are lesser because of what Bakugou has been
through. And I think we both know how Bakugou feels about people treating him with soft
gloves.”
Kirishima shrugged, still not meeting his gaze. “Sometimes the people who don't want
anyone to treat them soft are the ones who need it most.”

Dr. Karusaki smiled. “And that right there is why I think you have nothing to worry about.
Your concern for him isn't a burden or a job to you, and I'm sure he feels that. You genuinely
care about him.”

“Of course I do,” Kirishima stated, vehement.

“And that's why Bakugou could be willing to open up to you more than you think,” Dr.
Karusaki said. “I'm not saying everything will be easy or that Bakugou will never have any
more attacks or setbacks, but I do believe that avoiding a problem or concern will not help
anyone in the long run.”

Kirishima frowned, looking down at his lap. He thought that over, considering.

“Has he told you about the other day, with his parents?”

Dr. Karusaki frowned. “No. Did something happen that troubled you?”

“I can't get it out of my head,” Kirishima admitted quietly. “His mom just freaked out and
slapped him. Even knowing everything he's been through, she slapped him. Hard. I barely
managed to hold him back. I think the physical attack kind of triggered him and he went into
a sort of rage.”

“And that upset you?”

“Not his reaction, no,” Kirishima denied. “In fact, I would've expected it. No, what bothers
me is that she slapped him and that he didn't seem surprised that she did. In fact, the only
thing that seemed to bother him was that he didn't understand why she would've slapped him
for something so trivial. Honestly, I don't get that either. I guess maybe it was just a little
jarring since my parents never really believed in physical punishment and they were so
accepting when I came out.” Kirishima stiffened, eyes widening and looking up at the doctor.
“Please tell me I didn't just out him to you.”

Dr. Karusaki shook his head. “Bakugou's talked to me about being asexual. I provided him
some further reading since he said he was still working out where on the spectrum he falls.
You didn't out him.”

Kirishima slumped, relieved.

“But what you're saying makes sense. Something like that can be troubling not just because
of the act itself, but also the implications.”

Kirishima bit his lip worriedly. “Do you think...Bakugou was abused? When he was a kid?”

“I can't really answer that,” Dr. Karusaki denied. “Remember that these sessions aren't to
discuss Bakugou's progress or past but instead for you to process how you're feeling about
things and discuss whatever is troubling you,” he reminded him gently.
“Right, sorry,” Kirishima ducked his head. “I keep forgetting to draw the line. I just…” he
paused. “I'm really scared now that he was. And I'm feeling even more lost.” He shook a
little, eyes watering. “And his mom didn't seem so bad. She’s a little rough around the edges,
but so is Bakugou. And I thought she cared about him. But if she hit him, how can she be a
good person?” He sniffled, wiping at his face roughly. “And how can his dad just sit there
and let her do that to his son?”

“Sometimes people who don't know any better do wrong things,” Dr. Karusaki said. “And
sometimes people who are good do bad things. But also, sometimes people who are bad do
good things. As a hero, you must be familiar with that sort of thing.”

Kirishima nodded.

“I cannot say if Bakugou was ever abused by his parents,” Dr. Karusaki began. “Not only
because of patient confidentiality, but also because I honestly do not know. But if what
happened with his mother the other day is bothering you this much, then I would suggest you
speak to him about it. It sounds like you two may have processed it differently.”

Kirishima hesitated. “I don't want to pressure him,” he said.

“Asking or even just telling him your concerns isn't pressuring. But if Bakugou is resistant to
the discussion, then I trust that you'll move to a different topic.”

Kirishima nodded. “Of course.”

“Then I don't see a problem in at least trying to talk to him about it.”

Kirishima hoped he was right.

……

“Where's your agency?” Bakugou asked as they walked down the sidewalk, leaving Dr.
Karusaki's office.

“It's a couple stops down on the train,” Kirishima said, stepping closer to Bakugou to avoid
other pedestrians coming between them, since they were still holding hands. It was automatic
at this point, something they both did without thinking.

“Could you show me?” Bakugou asked.

Kirishima paused in thought. “I mean, sure. If you want,” he agreed, still looking confused.

“I want to see it,” Bakugou stated.

Kirishima shrugged. “That's cool, man. When did you want to go?”

Bakugou looked around. It was nearing lunchtime on a Friday, but still early enough that the
trains shouldn't be too bad. Just a couple stops. It should be an easy enough start. “Now?”

Kirishima glanced at him. “You sure?” He asked.

Bakugou set his jaw, nodding definitively. “Yeah. I want to see it,” he declared.

“Okay,” Kirishima agreed, bringing them towards the nearest train entrance. Bakugou
couldn't help but squeeze his hand a little as they started down the stairs, breathing picking up
as the walls enclosed them. Kirishima tugged him to the side as they reached the bottom of
the stairwell.

“Talk to me,” he coaxed quietly.

“I have to get better,” Bakugou said through heavy pants. “I have to get over this.”

“You can take your time,” Kirishima argued. “You don't have to do it all at once.”

Bakugou looked over Kirishima's shoulder, watching people walking through the gates, down
more stairs. Kids cried and yelled and tugged at their parents’ hands. The walls and floor
vibrated with the heavy rumbling of the trains. A loud voice came over the speaker, making
an announcement that most couldn't hear. Someone coughed, loud and long. The heavy
humid air made him feel dizzy.

“Not today,” Bakugou gasped in a truce, reluctant and bitter. “Soon,” he added, in an attempt
to help his wounded pride, “but not today.”

Kirishima squeezed his hand once and Bakugou thought he might have hugged him, if
Bakugou would've let him. Instead the blond turned away and they went back up the stairs,
Bakugou's shoulders slumped with defeat.

…..

Bakugou held the inhaler stiffly, warring with himself.

“It's just for an as-needed basis,” the nurse was saying. “Whenever you feel like you can't
breathe or like your airways are closing like in a panic attack, you can take a few puffs from
this and it will help you calm down. You hold the end piece just outside of your mouth and
inhale as you push down on the medicine. You'll need one or two inhales for a full dosage.
Don't take more than four in three hours time.”

Bakugou hummed, looking down at the inhaler blankly.

“We don't normally give patients medicine to keep but Dr. Karusaki recommended you have
this when you go out the hospital with Kirishima. Please let us know how often you find
yourself using it though so we can keep a record. I'll be passing that instruction on to
Kirishima as well.”

Bakugou nodded.

“Let us know if you have any difficulty or questions,” she said, smiling before she left the
room.

Bakugou didn't want medicine. He'd never wanted medicine. He was just fine, he wasn't
weak.
He held the inhaler limply, fingers brushing across the plastic.

Deku used to have one, when they were kids. They'd been in the woods once exploring
around their houses; it'd been just the two of them, before things had gotten bad between
them. Before Bakugou had made things bad. Deku had fallen out of a tree and landed on his
back, and Bakugou had heard the air forced from his lungs and his broken wheezing
afterwards. Bakugou had sprinted as fast as he could all the way back to their bookbags, left
outside of the woods, before running all the way back with Deku's inhaler, helping him sit up
so he could use it.

Bakugou clutched at the inhaler tightly. He'd been much nicer before he'd gotten his quirk,
even he could realize that.

He held one hand open, palm up, and stared at it. His hands were callused, rough, and he
rubbed the excess sweat away on his pants.

A short knock on the door tugged him out of his thoughts and he glanced up to see Kirishima
peeking in, smiling at him.

“Hey,” he greeted, coming in and taking his seat by the bed. “How's it going?”

Bakugou looked down at the inhaler in his hand silently, holding it up for him to see.

Kirishima tilted his head in confusion. “An inhaler? It thought that was for, like, asthma?”

“Panic attacks too,” Bakugou said, not meeting his eyes. “Anything that causes breathing
problems, really,” he added as an afterthought.

“Oh,” Kirishima said, leaning forward. “You okay?”

Bakugou sighed. “I guess,” he relented. “Just...tired.”

Kirishima frowned. “You want to take a nap?”

“Not that kind of tired,” Bakugou snapped, before slumping again, eyes closing. “Like just
exhausted of this whole situation. I want this to be done but it's like there's a never ending list
of shit to deal with. It's a lot and I'm just sick of it.”

Kirishima nodded, taking his free hand in both of his own. Bakugou let him, too drained to
argue anymore.

“You want to just sit here for a while?” Kirishima asked. “We don't have to say anything.
And you know, I'd let you cuddle with me and I won't even tease you about it.” He smiled
softly, secretly, and Bakugou hated how his heart thumped heavy in his throat, near-choking
him with the well of emotion.

“Fucker,” he growled, but he crawled into Kirishima's lap all the same. He hid his face under
his chin, breathing in his simple Beta scent and letting his mind empty of everything else. He
would fight more tomorrow, would push himself and demand results, but for right now he
was happy to feel Kirishima's warmth against him and to empty his mind of everything else.
Kirishima rubbed his hand up and down Bakugou's back, his other hand twisted with
Bakugou's own. Bakugou felt his hair ruffling, either from Kirishima's movement or his
breath he couldn't be sure. He didn't really care either way.

They sat there until it was dark outside the window. Kirishima reached over at some point
and turned on a light, making Bakugou grumble and press further into his neck. Beta's didn't
have as large scent glands as Alphas and Omegas, but they were still there, hidden under the
skin behind his ears at the top of his neck like everyone else. Bakugou wondered why
Kirishima didn't make him move away. Even if he was a Beta, it was still pretty intimate for
someone to touch your glands, even if you weren't aroused and secreting your scent, not that
Betas had much of a scent to give off in the first place. He nuzzled closer, nose just barely
brushing against his scent gland. He inhaled and Kirishima shivered under him, hands
tightening his hold just slightly.

Bakugou hummed lowly, dropping his head back to Kirishima's shoulder and letting his eyes
slide shut. Kirishima slowly relaxed under him, hand brushing Bakugou's side familiarly once
more.

Bakugou rolled his neck against Kirishima's shoulder, pointedly casual. Kirishima laughed
quietly, turning his head to nose as Bakugou's temple.

“Fucker,” he accused him teasingly, and Bakugou burst into sudden laughter, feeling much
lighter and much better.

Kirishima didn't seem to be mad at Bakugou's blatant scenting so Bakugou pressed closer,
more obviously, grinning daringly as he enshrouded Kirishima with his scent.

Kirishima rolled his eyes in fond exasperation but didn't say anything.

It became just another thing they didn't talk about.

…..

Bakugou set his jaw and forced his feet to carry him down the stairs, clutching the rail tightly.
Kirishima was at his side, just a little behind him, acting as a buffer for the people rushing
around them and keeping them from jostling Bakugou. Once they reached the bottom,
Bakugou pressed against a wall, closing his eyes and forcing himself to breathe. His inhaler
was heavy in his pocket and he refused to grab it. Not yet. He wasn't done yet.

The train rumbled under their feet and Bakugou tried not to think too much on the sound. Too
loud, too sudden, too similar to other roars he still heard in his head at night.

“You got this,” Kirishima encouraged him. Bakugou sent him a deadpan look.

“Obviously,” he declared, forcing out a breath before walking towards the gates. It wasn't too
busy, what with it being well before lunch on a weekday but after everyone had already
headed into work. Kirishima swiped a passcard for them both to enter and then they were
headed down more stairs.
The air down here was heavy from the recent rain and Bakugou found himself breathing
through his mouth with the humidity. His palms--his everything--were sweating but he
refused to call it quits just yet. Kirishima slipped his hand in his and Bakugou felt a ripple of
his quirk before smooth skin pressed against his own. Randomly, Bakugou wondered if the
nitroglycerin in his palms bothered Kirishima's skin. He'd never thought to ask and hadn't
ever held anyone else's hand so often before.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask, anything to help keep himself distracted, an Omega
woman stalked passed determinedly, scent heavy from the heat of the subway and without
anything to help block it.

Bakugou choked, the cloyingly sweet scent of Omega filling his senses instantly. He gagged
on the sweetness, turning instinctively into Kirishima and almost burying his face on the
other's chest as he took in desperate lungfuls of the Beta's muted scent.

“Come on,” Kirishima led him to the far end of the platform, away from the few other people
there waiting as well.

“God,” Bakugou sputtered, knowing he was shaking all over as he turned his head to spit at
the tracks. He still felt like there was a layer of sugar coating his mouth and his stomach
rolled uncomfortably.

“Here,” Kirishima said, offering a water bottle Bakugou hadn't even known he'd brought.
Bakugou took a long drink before swishing some in his mouth and spitting it out.

“Fuck,” he cursed, leaning on Kirishima and sighing. He was already exhausted and they
weren't even on the damn train yet.

Bakugou let his eyes shut, stepping further into Kirishima's space so he was the only thing he
could smell. Kirishima's free hand rested on his waist, comforting and familiar. Bakugou was
sure they looked like lovers, standing so closely together, whispering words to each other. He
didn't really care, letting the Beta support him as he tried to get his strength back.

Bakugou tensed at the sound of the train approaching, the hand not holding Kirishima's
twisting into the other's shirt and fisting the fabric tightly. Kirishima held him closer and they
both stood without moving as the train flew past them in a loud cacophony of rumbling rails.

Bakugou couldn't help a low whine at the loud sound, hands holding onto Kirishima so
tightly his knuckles were white. Kirishima hummed lowly, nosing at Bakugou's temple,
seemingly not caring about the sweat near his hairline.

“I've got you,” Kirishima promised quietly, just as the train stopped and the warning bell
signalled the doors were about to open. “Ready?”

Bakugou exhaled slowly, watching over Kirishima's shoulder as the doors open to let anyone
off. He couldn't stop himself from shaking.

“We don't have to,” Kirishima assured him. The doors chimed again before they slid shut.
Neither of them moved as the train left the station, just as loudly as it had entered.
“The next one,” Bakugou promised quietly. He'd be ready for the next one.

Bakugou had never given into fear much, but somehow here he was. Fear of the unknown, of
what might happen. If he got on the train, he would have no choice but to make it to the next
stop. There would be no way to get off early if he had an attack. Not to mention that he'd
have to take a train back too, regardless of what happened. He hid his face, eyes prickling. He
wasn't supposed to be this weak. It was the stupid train, he'd taken it every day as a kid.
There was nothing scary about it.

The next one came and Bakugou could only clutch at Kirishima pathetically, refusing to even
look up. He whimpered despite himself as it left the station, frustrated at himself for not
pushing forward.

“It's okay,” Kirishima promised him, always so patient even though Bakugou was wasting his
time at a stupid train station, clutching him like a child needing their blanket. Bakugou didn't
deserve him, of that he was sure.

“Excuse me?”

They both looked over to see a young woman holding the hand of a small girl. The little girl
smiled shyly at them.

“Are you Red Riot?” she asked in a terrible whisper, looking up at Kirishima with wide eyes.

Kirishima smiled, squeezing Bakugou's hand before letting go to crouch down in front of her.
“I am!” he said, grinning. He let his quirk cover his hands and he pounded them against each
other across his chest, making a thunking sound. The girl instantly beamed, moving from
around who must be her mother and copying the move herself in front of Kirishima. Her
quirk activated, rippling scales down her arms and up her neck.

“Kimiko,” her mother chastised her lightly, shaking her head fondly.

“I'm going to be a great hero like you,” Kimiko declared, ignoring her mother. She proudly
turned to show Kirishima her bag, covered in buttons with different hero symbols; there were
three Red Riot buttons for every one of another hero.

Kirishima laughed. “I have no doubt,” he agreed, holding out his fist which Kimiko quickly
bumped with her own. “I look forward to saving people with you one day. Just make sure you
listen to your parents and teachers so you can be the best hero you can be, okay?”

She nodded gravely, like Kirishima had told her the biggest secret. She glanced over at
Bakugou. “Is your friend a hero too?” She asked, still in that horrible whisper.

“He's the strongest man I know,” Kirishima said seriously, “and he's defeated more villains
than even me.”

Bakugou flushed, face heated with embarrassment as he looked away.

“Really?” She said in surprise, turning to Bakugou herself. “What's your name, mister?”
“Ah, he's undercover right now,” Kirishima cut in, winking conspiratorially to her. “But if
you keep up with the news, maybe you'll see him one day.”

She grinned brightly, showcasing a mouthful of pearly whites, her eyeteeth just a bit larger
and pointer than normal. “I will! Good luck beating more villains, mister!” She waved at him
and Bakugou managed a small wave back. “Bye, Red Riot!”

“Thank you,” her mother said, bowing slightly and smiling before taking her daughter's hand
and leading her up the stairs.

“You didn't have to lie like that,” Bakugou said once they were gone.

Kirishima shrugged, watching him. “I wasn't lying,” he said easily, sincerely.

Bakugou stared at him in surprise. Distantly, another train came, loud rumble approaching
without delay. It stopped in front of them, doors opening.

Bakugou grinned, emboldened. “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand for Kirishima to
take before they both stepped onto the train car. “Time to show me your hero office.”

…..

Kirishima's office was just a few blocks away from the station and he seemed excited to show
Bakugou around. More people recognized Kirishima here, smiling and greeting him as they
walked down the sidewalk. Some even welcomed Bakugou at seeing him walking by
Kirishima's side, their hands still clasped. The area seemed peaceful, a residential district
instead of being filled with busy salarymen or bustling tourists.

“Is there even any crime here?” Bakugou asked. “Beyond, like, a purse-snatcher or
something? What do you do, save kittens from trees all day?”

Kirishima laughed. “Hey, my neighborhood is just fine, thank you. Beside, we're right
between two of the bigger districts, so we can get to either one quickly if something big
happens on either side of us.”

“How many heroes are at your office?”

Kirishima hummed. “There's me, Pinky, Cellophane, Earphone Jack, and Chargebolt, so five
total. We all started working together after we finished our internships about a year after we
graduated.” He glanced at Bakugou. “You've already met them. Ashido, Sero, Jirou, and
Kaminari,” he said.

Bakugou tensed, remembering the disaster that had been karaoke night.

“Do you still want to go?” Kirishima asked.

Bakugou frowned. “How much do they hate me now?” He managed to ask.

Kirishima tilted his head in confusion. “What? Why would they hate you?”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “After karaoke, when Deku told them what a shitheel I was,” he
spat.

Kirishima pulled him to a stop by his hand, frowning. “What are you…Midoriya didn't say
anything bad about you. From what Ashido told me, he barely said anything at all before he
and Todoroki left. He was apparently really shaken up about it too. It has gotten out to them
that you were one of the Alphas that were recovered from the ring, so our fake-dating thing
has fell through, but other than that not much has been said.” Kirishima paused. “A couple of
my friends have tried to talk about it with me, but I just told them all I'd have to explain later.
I wanted a chance to discuss it with you first and you didn't seem like you wanted to talk
about it.”

Bakugou sneered, gritting his teeth and holding back a snarl. So they didn't hate him, they
pitied him now. That was worse.

“Hey, we can go back if you want,” Kirishima said, “but none of my friends hate you. I don't
even think Midoriya hates you, to tell you the truth. You don't have to keep punishing
yourself.”

“You don't know anything,” Bakugou snapped at him.

Kirishima sighed. “Then tell me,” he tried.

Bakugou scowled, looking away from his earnest eyes. He remained silent.

“You know I won't judge you for anything you did while the villains had you,” Kirishima
tried to assure him.

But it wasn't what he'd done while the League had him that he was afraid of Kirishima
finding out about. It was what he'd done before, what he'd done to get there.

Kirishima frowned. “I don't...I don't want to push you. And I want to be here for you. But I
don't know what to do to help you, Bakugou. I need you to tell me at least something.”

“I'm fine,” Bakugou said evenly. Kirishima gave him a deadpanned look. Bakugou held back
a wince. Even he hadn't believed himself right then.

“I'm an asshole,” Bakugou muttered, much more honestly. He looked down at his feet. “But
I...I need you, dammit,” he admitted forcibly, voice low to avoid anyone else hearing him. “If
I tell you the dumb shit I did, you'll leave.”

Kirishima rubbed his thumb over his hand. “I won't leave you,” he promised.

Bakugou shook his head, lips sealed.

Kirishima stepped closer to him, pulling him into a hug. “I'll just have to stick around long
enough for you to believe me then,” he said.

“Guess so,” Bakugou muttered. He didn't raise his arms to return the hug, but he did lean into
his warmth.
“You want to go get lunch before we go to my office?” He offered.

“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed easily, accepting the out for what it was.

…..

“Red Riot!”

Bakugou wasn't even surprised when they were immediately greeted upon entering the door
of the small local restaurant Kirishima had brought him to. The redhead smiled as the man
came to welcome him, not even waiting for the hostess to sit them as he ushered them both
towards a table near the back.

“It's been too long!” The man said, smiling happily as he gestured for both of them to sit.
“Please, sit! I'll get you something to drink. Anything you and your friend want, anything.”

Kirishima blushed. “Ah, Mizukame, we're just here to eat.”

“I will forever be in your debt, Kirishima. You and your friend can have whatever you'd like.
Please, it's my honor,” he gushed, waving over a waiter. “You take care of Red Riot and his
friend,” he said, still smiling as he heading back towards the kitchen.

Bakugou bit back a grin as Kirishima's face turned an impossibly darker shade of red with
embarrassment, stuttering out a drink order to the star-struck waiter who fumbled with his
notepad after Kirishima spoke. Bakugou just asked for water, much too entertained now.

“You saved his kitten from a tree then?” He teased.

Kirishima huffed, ducking his head. “There was a guy trying to rob him at gunpoint one time
when I was here. I...may have distracted the robber by throwing one of my takoyaki at him
and then used my quirk to protect Mizukame whenever he let off a few bullets.”

Bakugou laughed. “You threw takoyaki at a robber?”

“It was such a waste,” Kirishima said, glancing up at Bakugou with a slow grin. “Hit him
right in the face though.”

Bakugou laughed louder. “You're a fucking riot,” he accused him.

Kirishima grinned. “A red one,” he agreed.

Bakugou shook his head, still in good humor. “Can't believe you,” he said, leaning on his
hand as he watched him. “What other stupid shit have you done on a mission that worked
out?” He asked.

Kirishima shrugged. “Sometimes you've got to improvise, dude. I've thrown lots of random
stuff at villains. Trash cans, chairs, flower pots, a microwave--”

“A microwave?” Bakugou cut in incredulously. “What the hell?”

Kirishima bit back another grin. “A villain was holding up an office and I had to sneak in
through the break room while one of my teammates distracted them. They went to hurt one of
the hostages so I grabbed the microwave and threw it at them to stop them. It worked.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You're a goddamn mess,” he accused, tone nearing fondness.

“Hey, I do good work,” Kirishima argued mildly, not really upset. “Sometimes you've just got
to make your own projectiles.”

Bakugou hummed, seemingly thoughtful.

“What?” Kirishima asked, raising a brow.

“I bet I could've blasted you with my quirk, back in school,” Bakugou announced. “Like a
bullet or some shit. If your quirk could handle it, that is.”

Kirishima laughed. “I would've let you try, definitely. I can handle anything,” he bragged,
smirking.

Bakugou's lip twitched up as he considered it. “I had this move I was perfecting in school:
Howitzer Impact. I bet if I hit you with it, you really would go flying.”

“Sounds good! Maybe when you become a hero we can try it,” Kirishima agreed.

Bakugou scowled, not commenting on that as the waiter brought their drinks and took their
orders. Kirishima noticed, frowning in concern.

“What's wrong?” He asked quietly.

Bakugou looked down at his palms again. “You really think I can be a hero?” He asked,
almost a growl. “After…” he trailed off, waving a hand as if to encompass everything he'd
been through.

“Absolutely,” Kirishima answered without hesitation, even if they'd had this conversation
before.

Bakugou's brow furrowed.

“Did you have your license? When you graduated?” Kirishima asked.

“Yeah,” Bakugou said. “I was supposed to start an internship with Miruko like two weeks
after they took me.”

“Miruko? The rabbit hero?” Kirishima asked. “I've never heard of her taking an intern
before.”

Bakugou shrugged, leaning against the table. “She wasn't going to, but when I interned with
Best Jeanist in school we ran into her while she was capturing a villian. I may have gotten
into a shouting match with her over something stupid and she whacked me on the head then
told me to apply for her agency.” He smiled slightly and Kirishima thought he looked fond.
“She's crazy but I was actually looking forward to working with her. She didn't question
whether I'd actually be a hero or not, even after I cursed her out.” He looked down at the
table, suddenly sullen. “Was kind of rare back then, having someone tell me I didn't have to
change everything I was to be a better hero.”

Kirishima frowned. “Maybe you could reach out to her? See if the offer is still open once you
get your feet back under you?”

Bakugou shook his head. “It's been four years. My hero license is expired. I'd have to retake
all of the tests to get re-licensed and I can't…” Bakugou glared at his palms. “I can't even use
my quirk right now without having a meltdown. Hell, I can barely ride the fucking train.
There's no way I'd pass the practical test.”

“Then we'll just have to work towards that,” Kirishima assured him, sounding confident.

Bakugou glowered at him. “Fuck off, shitty hair,” he snapped.

Kirishima reached out to take one of his hands that was still sitting palm-up on the table.
“Bakugou, you can do this. I believe in you. It's going to take time, but your life isn't over.”

Bakugou twitched, like he wanted to pull away but didn't know if he could. He was so
obviously warring with himself and Kirishima wished there was more he could do.

Their waiter appeared then, setting their food before them and stuttering out a nervous
question on if they needed anything else.

“We're all set! Thanks,” Kirishima said, smiling at him. The waiter seemed to go weak-kneed
for a moment, nodding dumbly before he scampered off. When Kirishima turned to his food
he couldn't help but glance over to see Bakugou watching him.

“What?” Kirishima asked, chopsticks hesitating over his plate of food when Bakugou made
no more for his.

“You're really like this with everyone, aren't you?” Bakugou asked.

Kirishima tilted his head. “Like what?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, releasing Kirishima from the weight of his stare as he grabbed at his
own set of chopsticks. “Nothing, don't worry about it,” he said.

Kirishima's brow furrowed in confusion. “Like what?” He repeated before he started to eat.

“Just. You know. You,” Bakugou said, waving at him like he was going to know what that
meant.

“I'm..me?” Kirishima asked. “I'd like to think so,” he agreed.

Bakugou snorted, having to cough to keep himself from choking as he reached for his drink.
“Fucking dumbass,” he muttered, shaking his head, but there was a genuine smile on his lips
and Kirishima grinned, deciding to ignore his comment if it meant Bakugou would remain in
a good mood.

The meal was good and their conversation was light after that. Kirishima basked in
Bakugou's relaxation, eyeing his untense shoulders and unfurrowed brow with satisfaction.
He already knew and was willing to admit that Bakugou was attractive, but seeing him
without a scowl and looking almost at peace made him practically resplendent. When
Mizukame came around after their meal to thank Kirishima again and to tell them their bill
was taken care of, Kirishima protested even as he fought down a well of emotion. He was
touched by the man's generosity and thanked him profusely.

“No, thank you, Red Riot,” Mizukame said, positively beaming before he excused himself to
get back to the kitchen.

The waiter wavered as they stood to go, hesitating at Kirishima's side. The redhead turned to
him in confusion. “Is everything okay?” He asked with concern.

“Um. Well. Yes, everything's fine. I just. I wanted to say. That is...uh,” the waiter blushed,
looking down at his hands. “I wanted to thank you for all that you do. And that you were
brave enough to come out to the public. There's not really a lot of out heroes and it's, uh,
really nice to, you know, see someone like me do such amazing stuff,” he admitted, glancing
up at Kirishima shyly before turning darker red and snapping his gaze back to the ground.
“So, um, thank you. For being brave. Braver than me. Yes. Thanks.” He nodded, shuffling his
feet awkwardly.

Kirishima smiled warmly. “Hey, there's no competition here. I think you were brave to tell
me that,” he said kindly.

“Can I...no, nevermind, I'm sorry, that's weird,” the boy cut himself off, waving his hands
wildly. Bakugou thought he looked kind of like Deku then and it made something in him
churn bitterly.

“Hey, no, what is it?” Kirishima asked. “I promise you're okay.”

“It's just...can I hug you?” The boy whispered.

Kirishima held out an arm. “Of course,” he welcomed him.

The boy practically collapsed against Kirishima, hugging his middle and making a small
sniffling sound as Kirishima returned the hug. Then he pulled away with a quick jerk back,
wiping his face. “Thank you!” He said, eyes looking extra shiny like he was about to cry.

Kirishima grinned. “Anytime, dude,” he said, waving before they left.

“People do that a lot, huh?” Bakugou asked as they started down the sidewalk.

Kirishima shrugged. “I guess? It's still kind of weird, to be honest, but I guess I am in the top
twenty so people are bound to recognize me. Especially here, since this is where I'm set up,”
he explained. “Usually it's just people who want to thank me or a quick picture or something.
It's not that big of a deal so I tend to just go with it.”

Bakugou hummed. “Usually?” He asked mildly.

Kirishima's lips twitched like he was fighting a scowl. “Usually,” he repeated, eyes stormy.

Bakugou didn't have to ask; he could imagine the complications that came with being a
popular gay hero.

“What made you want to come out?” Bakugou asked before he could stop himself. Kirishima
glanced at him in confusion. “I mean,” Bakugou tried to clarify, “it can't be easy to be a
public figure and have your private life revealed like that. Why'd you decide to go public?”

Kirishima shrugged. “When I decided to be a hero, I told myself I'd live a life without regrets.
I didn't want to have to hide that part of myself. Plus, I remember being a kid and looking up
LGBT heroes on the internet.” He frowned.

“There's not many, I would think,” Bakugou commented.

Kirishima shook his head. “Not really, though to be honest my class from U.A. has almost
single-handed changed that after graduating,” he admitted, chuckling lightly. “My class had
the whole rainbow, as everyone likes to say.”

Bakugou snorted, covering his mouth to hide his flash of teeth in his humor. Kirishima still
sent him a knowing looking and he looked away from it.

“Here we are,” Kirishima said, waving at the building next to them.

It was a simple two-story building, rustic stone decorating the outside. It had a little
overhang, a cloth veranda that provided some shelter from the elements to the sidewalk. The
front was glass, heavily tinted, and the door sat in the middle. A small sign hung over the
door, marking this as the ‘Squad Agency’.

Bakugou sent Kirishima a droll look. “Squad Agency?” He said, raising a brow dubiously.

Kirishima laughed. “Well there's five of us and no one wanted to volunteer to have their name
over everyone else so we just decided we'd all be equal and be a squad,” he said.

“Of course you did,” Bakugou deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “I'm not even surprised.”

Kirishima laughed again, tugging him forward by his hand and pulling the door open. “Quit
your judging and come on,” he teased him.

Inside, there was a young woman sitting at a receptionist’s desk who stood at their entrance.
“Kirishima! I didn't think you were coming in today,” she said.

Kirishima smiled. “Hey, Hana. I was just showing a friend of mine around,” he said,
gesturing to Bakugou who clutched at his hand reflexively. He wasn't sure if it was being in a
hero office or what, but he felt too much anxious energy rushing through him. He could hear
the muted sounds of someone fighting and it was making him keyed up, giving him little else
to focus on.

“Oh, well Ashido and Jirou are in the training room. Kaminari and Sero are out on patrol,”
Hana reported dutifully.

“Thanks. We'll go say hey in a little bit,” Kirishima said, looking to Bakugou. “My office is
this way,” he said, leading Bakugou up the stairs. “Hana answers all our calls during the
week. On weekends we take turns having the calls forwarded to each of our cells,” he
explained.

Bakugou hummed to show he was listening, eyeing the pictures on the wall made up of
various newspaper clippings.

“So we don't forget,” Kirishima said, noticing his gaze. He paused at one headline.

‘New “Squad Agency” Rescues Victims of Subway Accident’

Bakugou stared at the picture. Kirishima was beaming, arm thrown around an equally tall
spindly guy with large elbows who he recognized from karaoke. The two girls in the picture
were laughing, one he recognized as Jirou and the other as Pinky from karaoke, and Kaminari
was giving the camera a thumbs-up with a vacant look in his eyes. They all looked exhausted,
dirt and scratches covering every inch of visible skin, but the article mentioned no casualties
so Bakugou figured it was hard-won.

Kirishima's was the last office in the hallway. Bakugou stepped into the room and was
instantly assaulted by the sheer amount of red.

“What the fuck, Shitty Hair? My eyes are bleeding!” Bakugou hissed, glaring at his
surroundings.

Kirishima laughed. “Come on, dude! It's manly! I've got to have a manly office to do work!”

“Doesn't look like too much work gets done on here,” Bakugou said, blatantly eyeing the
large stack of papers sitting in Kirishima's ‘to-do’ pile.

“Uh,” Kirishima hesitated.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, turning to take in the large poster of Crimson Riot that took up a lot
of space on the wall by the door. Then he walked over to the window, looking out at the street
below.

“Nice view though,” he murmured, more reservedly. He felt Kirishima move closer, stepping
to his side.

“You okay?” He asked quietly.

Bakugou had always imagined himself opening his own agency early in his hero career. He'd
wanted to do everything himself, design the building and choose the decorations and
everything. He'd wanted a office with a window, sitting high above the street so he could see
 everything. He reached out, smudging his prints onto the clean glass, feeling bereft. His
throat felt tight. Kirishima came here everyday, saved people, made a difference.

“You're a good hero,” Bakugou croaked, voice a near whisper but even that couldn't hide how
his voice broke. Kirishima hugged him from behind, arms tight but warm. Bakugou closed
his eyes.

“You can be too,” Kirishima promised him.

“I don't know if I can anymore,” Bakugou choked out. “I don't know if I can--”

“You can,” Kirishima stressed. “You can.”

Bakugou sniffled, turning away from the window and brutishly wiping at his face. He hid his
face in Kirishima's shoulder. “Why are you so patient with me?” He whispered, the question
having bothered him for weeks. “Why do you care so much?”

“You're my friend,” Kirishima answered simply. “You're strong and smart and good. You
deserve nice things and I want to help you get them,” he said.

Bakugou clenched his teeth. “You don't know that,” he denied.

“I do,” Kirishima argued, holding him tighter.

Bakugou's eyes met the Crimson Riot poster over Kirishima's shoulder. It said ‘Manly
Spirit!’ across the bottom. He turned away, hiding his eyes against Kirishima's collar,
clenching them shut until he saw spots.

“You smell like me,” he muttered after a long moment.

“You made me smell like you,” Kirishima said, a simple statement. No accusation or
bitterness.

Bakugou snorted. Kirishima giggled. Then they both burst into laughter, clutching at each
other while they laughed so hard they cried.

“You want to go check out our training room?” Kirishima asked once they finally got control
of themselves, wiping at his eyes.

“Bring it,” Bakugou shrugged, pushing down the wave of anxiety that came up to choke him.

The only way he could go was up, so he took a step forward, Kirishima at his side.

Chapter End Notes

CHAPTER WARNINGS: implied/mentioned/discussed possible child abuse,

implied/subtle depression tones, panic attacks, anxiety, implied/referenced homophobia
(I’m always willing to add more tags if you notice something that needs to be added;
just let me know!)

Trying to cover all your questions in fic, though I know there’s some I haven’t got to
yet. I promise I have an actual plan here, so if you’re concerned about something not
being explained, I intend to get to it eventually. I have my reasons for most of what I’m
doing here.

Tried to slow it down a little in this chapter and add a little more shippy content; I’m a
damn sucker for scenting, man, y’all don’t even know. I can go ahead and promise you
that’ll be an ongoing thing, lol.

Please let me know what you think! Hopefully the next chapter won’t take so long. I
have the next ‘major’ chapter already done, but I’m not quite sure if this fic is ready for
it yet. Kind of want to expound more and do some more gentle healing and light
shippiness before I tear back into y’all’s hearts again, lol. And believe me, when I do get
to that one, you’ll know. And you’ll probably curse me, haha.

(Surely you didn’t think all the angst for this fic had already passed, now did you?)

Comments and kudos are dear and precious and keep me warm and writing on those
long cold nights! I’d love to hear your thoughts!
 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

I'm really sorry, y'all. This year has been...eventful. But, I finally got the time to sit
down and finish up this chapter. And if everything continues along the plan, then this fic
shouldn't be too many more chapters, though I'm going to jinx it if I throw out a number,
lol.

Be warned, this one ends with a cliff!

Anyways, I am sorry about the lengthy wait and I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Also,
I've decided to remove the anonymous listing! So ta da! It was me!

CHAPTER WARNINGS IN END NOTES

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The training room was insulated to keep most of the noise in, but it wasn't soundproofed, so
Bakugou could hear the slightest sounds of fighting as they walked down the hall. He would
deny if asked but his blood started pumping harder just at the familiar sounds, nostrils flaring
as his eyes flickered around the hall, searching for enemies, weaknesses, exits. He could feel
the familiar rush of heat under his veins and centering in his palms and he could taste iron in
his mouth.

“Bakugou.”

He stiffened, ducking away from Kirishima's hand on instinct before he managed to get
himself to focus. He wasn't in the ring; they were just outside of the training room. He forced
himself to stand straight, getting out of his posturing stance, taking a slow breath.

“I'm fine,” he said. Kirishima gave him a look. Bakugou's teeth clenched. “I'm fine,” he
repeated tersely.

Kirishima turned to push open the door, deciding not to argue.

“Hey, guys,” he called out, interrupting the two girls.

“Kirishima!” Ashido shouted in delighted surprise.

“Bakugou,” Jirou greeted, grabbing a towel to wipe at her face while Ashido drank from a
water bottle.

“Oh, how've you been?” Ashido said.

“Fine,” Bakugou said stiffly, feeling on unsteady ground thanks to the disaster of their last
meeting. He didn't really know what impression he'd left on them--raving at one of their
friends and half-mad, working himself up into a panic attack before nearly blinding himself--
but he doubted it could be favorable.

“I was just showing Bakugou around the place,” Kirishima intercepted before things got too
awkward. He stepped closer to Bakugou's side, a line of warm assurance against him.
"Figured we'd just stop in to say hey."

"You want to step in for a bit?" Jirou asked, taking a long drink from her water bottle.

"I really don't have time, I don't think," Kirishima laughed off awkwardly.

"Awe, come on," Ashido teased, "you scared?"

"I just don't--"

"You think he should too, yeah, Bakugou?" Jirou interrupted, grinning slightly.

Bakugou looked over at Kirishima who was shaking his head, then at the two girls who were
vigorously nodding.

"Sure, why not?" He shrugged, smirking. "Not like we've got anything else planned."

Kirishima sighed as Ashido cheered. "Come on then, Riot boy," she said, hands already
dripping with a low-grade acid. Kirishima let his hardening ripple down his forearms to his
elbows while Jirou and Bakugou stepped to the side of the sparring mats.

"This normal for them?"

"We all spar each other a lot," Jirou told him. "Kirishima's tough. When he goes Unbreakable
there's not much any of us can do until his time runs out."

"Unbreakable?"

Kirishima hardened his arms to block the acid spray Ashido had sent at his face, swiping at
her legs. She leapt over him, clearly the more nimble of the two, and used some kind of
greasy liquid to slide across the floor. Kirishima swiped at her with a clawed hand as she
passed by him in a circle and she dodged with a laugh.

"Just watch," Jirou told him with a smile.

Ashido was covering the area around Kirishima with her acid, sliding across the floor
expertly. Bakugou watched Kirishima's feet, seeing that Kirishima hadn't moved from his
initial place, instead watching Ashido taunt him and occasionally lashing out when she was
within arms' reach. Of course, it made sense. Her maneuverability was leagues above
Kirishima's own and if Kirishima took one step onto her acid he'd be tripping over his own
feet.
Bakugou inhaled sharply, breath coming a little quicker as almost by habit his mind whirled,
looking for her weakness, her plan, trying to work out the best way to win. A quirk like
Ashido's could be problematic, but Bakugou had never met someone who could out
maneuver him. He was literally only breathing because that was true. He tightened his hands
into fists, feeling his sweat gather in his palms, forearms warming as his quirk readied for an
attack. He exhaled slowly, moving nothing but his eyes as he tracked her movements.
Waiting. His lip twitched, the scent of smoke crossing his nose, familiar in the ring from his
quirk and the cigarettes the villains liked to smoke. His world narrowed, pulse loud in his
ears, a familiar roar in the back of his head.

She was a blur of pink and Bakugou was a hunter. He was going to live. She'd never be able
to take him. He hated doing it, but he'd come too far for her to get the better of him. He
wasn't--

"Bakugou!"

An attack from the side, a different opponent. Bakugou jerked away from her swipe, snarling
and lowering his center of gravity, palms ready and sparking. He was used to cage matches
too, free-for-alls where they threw a handful of Alphas in to tear into each other until only
one stood. He would be that one.

"Bakugou! Calm down!"

Bakugou glared at the redhead, scent not strong enough to be another Alpha but definitely the
most threat of the three. He moved quickly, blasting into the air to dodge the pink Alpha
behind him, ignoring the other beta's sound waves that she produced from her calves. He
growled, the only warning before he sent a large blast at the red Beta.

"Bakugou! "

Bakugou jerked out of it, his pulse racing as he realized he was panting loudly in the room.
His palms were against something craggy, rough and sharp, and a pain in one of his palms
told him he'd been cut. He blinked in surprise, Kirishima's form morphed by the jagged
patches of hardened skin on his face, chest, and arms, but he was still recognizable. He
sucked in a sharp breath, sending himself into a coughing fit as he scrambled backwards.

"Shit, " he hissed, pressing back against the wall and still coughing. Ashido crept closer and
offered a water bottle which he accepted and sipped at. They were all looking at him
worriedly.

"What happened?" Jirou asked quietly.

"Fuck if I know," Bakugou grumbled, giving the bottle back to Ashido.

"Do you need your inhaler?" Kirishima asked.

"No," Bakugou denied, though now the weight of it felt heavy in his pocket. He hadn't even
thought of it in the moment but now it was all he could think of. He closed his eyes, trying to
control his breathing. He curled in on himself as he dug it out of his pocket, cupping it with
his hands and sucking in a tight breath while squeezing the inhaler in front of his mouth. His
breath hitched and he tried it once more, dropping his forehead to his knees to hide.

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

"Hey," Kirishima murmured as Bakugou heard the sound of a door being shut gently. He
peeked up, seeing only Kirishima. He glanced behind him, frowning. "I asked them to step
out and give you a minute," Kirishima explained his unasked question. "Can I hold you?"

Bakugou tensed, the sweat that had dampened the back of his shirt cooling and sending a
shiver down his spine. He shook his head, pressing back against the wall.

Kirishima nodded. "Okay. Okay, that's fine. I'm going to sit here then, alright? I'm right here.
Just take a minute. Breathe. You got this."

Bakugou inhaled shakily. "That was so stupid," he grumbled, voice cracking.

Kirishima sighed. "Yeah. We shouldn't have done that."

Bakugou frowned. "Not you. Me. I overreacted over nothing," he spat, disgusted with
himself. He shook his head in disappointment. "I can't even watch a fight without having a
fucking panic attack. How the hell am I supposed to ever be able to be in a fight without
freaking out? This is hopeless." He dropped his head back on the wall but then a spike of fear
at his bared throat made him drop his chin back down. He shivered again.

"Hey, don't talk like that. No, it's not," Kirishima denied vehemently. "You're doing great, we
just pushed too far this time. The doctor said this kind of stuff would happen, it's normal for
people in your situation."

"People in my situation, huh?" Bakugou snapped. "Victims? Losers?" He snarled nastily.

Kirishima set his jaw, red eyes blazing with determination. "People with PTSD. People who
are recovering from trauma. It's not all linear, there are going to be good days and bad days."

"Don't quote some preachy fucking book at me!" Bakugou yelled. "You don't know shit about
me!"

Kirishima breathed harshly through his nose, clearly trying to keep his cool even as his eyes
spoke of fury. "Bakugou," he began tersely.

"No, just shut the fuck up," Bakugou cut him off angrily. "I don't care what you've got to say.
You're wrong!"

"Would you calm down?" Kirishima demanded.

"Fuck you!" Bakugou snarled, kicking out and hitting Kirishima's shin. Kirishima hardened
on instinct and when Bakugou connected with his hardened skin, he yelped, pulling back in
his leg and massaging away the sting.

"You done?" Kirishima asked after a long silence.

"Fuck. You," Bakugou repeated lowly, glaring down at where his hands touched his own
skin. "I could take you down if I could use my quirk," he said after a long moment. "I bet I
would've been stronger than you."

Kirishima raised a brow. "Would've? You're giving up then? Just like that?"

Bakugou yelled in frustrated anger. "No!" He hissed. "But I can't--"

"You can't this, and you can't that," Kirishima cut him off loudly. "Sounds like you've given
up to me. Sounds like defeat. You're going to just let him win? Let him get the best of you?"
Kirishima leaned forward, poking one finger on the back of Bakugou's hand. "This is your
quirk. And you want to let him take it from you? You want to just be another civilian?"

"No," Bakugou croaked, eyes stinging.

"You want to live with your parents for the rest of your life? You want to rely on someone
else to help you because you're too afraid?"

"No," Bakugou said, anger coating his tongue.

"You want to get some boring ass job? Sit at a desk all day? Watch villains get captured on
the news?"

"No!" Bakugou screamed, tears spilling over down his face. "No! I want to be a hero,
dammit! The number one hero! I'm going to be a hero! Fuck you! Fuck all of you!"

Kirishima smiled, standing and offering a hand. "Then come on, hero. Let me see you work
for it."

Bakugou snatched his hand, pulling himself to his feet. He grinded his teeth together, glaring
at Kirishima as he purposely set off an explosion in their palms. Kirishima grinned, hardened
skin easily taking Bakugou's explosion.

"Come on," he said, tugging Bakugou towards the door. "We've got work to do."

…..

Kirishima had gotten the hospital to agree to let them use a private physical therapy room. He
and Bakugou stood across from each other, watching.

"No quirks," Kirishima said seriously.

Bakugou nodded. No quirks. Yet.

"Stretches first."

Bakugou and Kirishima mirrored each other, going through simple stretches. Bakugou
frowned at his lack of flexibility, having loss a lot from his time without training. He pushed
as far as he could, feeling the burn of unused muscles already, but stretching wasn't what this
was about.
Sparring. Bakugou had to get used to fighting again, and he could accept no other way than
to jump in head first. Dr. Karusaki hadn't been thrilled by the idea, but he'd said he
understood Bakugou's frustration and that as long as he didn't push it too hard and stopped if
it got to be too much, he would allow it with Kirishima only, since he could withstand
Bakugou's attacks if he went off the rails. Bakugou was determined not to go off the rails
though.

Once they were both stretched, they circled each other, waiting. Kirishima obviously wasn't
going to make the first move, which meant it was up to Bakugou. He took in a deep centering
breath before leaping forward to kick at his legs. Kirishima jumped back, swinging his arm
out wide and making Bakugou duck. He dropped back onto his hands, kicking up at his chin,
and Kirishima's eyes widened in surprise as he redirected the attack with his forearm.
Bakugou's lip curled in challenge and he backed away for a moment.

He took a few breaths, trying not to let the adrenaline fog his mind. They were sparring. He
wasn't fighting for his life.

He lunged, throwing a left hook which Kirishima caught. He twisted in his hold, kicking at
the back of Kirishima's knee to stagger his balance. Kirishima grunted but didn't let go.
Bakugou gritted his teeth, fighting the instinctual urge to let loose an explosion in his face,
instead turning to press against Kirishima's side, grabbing his back with his free hand and
curling a leg around Kirishima's and yanking him back. He rolled with him as Kirishima fell
into him, slamming the redhead under him, yanking his arm free from Kirishima's startled
hold. He snarled, growling lowly and eyeing Kirishima's momentarily bared throat before
sitting up and shaking away the haze.

Sparring, he reminded himself.

When he looked back down, Kirishima was staring up at him with a proud smile. Bakugou's
eyes narrowed.

"Baku--"

"Don't you say shit," Bakugou cut him off. He absolutely wasn't listening to him give him
praise for being able to do something that should be--and used to be--easy.

Kirishima looked smug, but he did shut up. Bakugou felt his forearm twitch, like he wanted
to shove a blast over that infuriating look. He got up and grabbed his water bottle, pointedly
turning his back to the redhead. Kirishima snickered quietly but he still heard it. Bakugou's
face burned.

"Fuck you," he hissed lowly, glowering at his hands. "I didn't do anything special."

"You want to go again?" Kirishima asked instead, though his tone was warm and made
Bakugou's toes curl.

"I'm going to beat you into the ground," Bakugou declared.

Kirishima laughed, slamming his fists together before crouching into a defensive stance with
a challenging grin.

"Bring it."

…..

“Kirishima, are you with Bakugou?”

Kirishima paused, frowning as he brought his phone away from his ear to confirm that it was
the hospital on the line.

“Yes,” he said, doing his best not to make it a question. Of course he was with Bakugou;
they'd just left Dr. Karusaki's office for his and Bakugou's appointments and were headed
somewhere for lunch. Bakugou glanced over at him curiously and Kirishima sent him a small
smile to prove everything was alright, thumb rubbing against Bakugou's hand in his.

“Where are you?”

Kirishima focused back on the conversation, head tilted. “We're going to get lunch,” he said
slowly. The nurse on the line sounded familiar, no doubt he'd spoken with her before if she
was one of Bakugou's nurses since they tried to avoid having too many unfamiliar faces
working with Bakugou. Still, she hadn't introduced herself and he couldn't place a face with
her voice over the phone.

“Yes, but where?” She stressed, an odd note in her voice.

Kirishima stopped walking, earning Bakugou's complete attention. Something was wrong
here, he just couldn't place what.

“We haven't decided yet,” he said, eyes instinctively scanning the area. He felt exposed on
the sidewalk suddenly, like eyes were looking for them. He glanced at Bakugou and the
Alpha looked tense, taking note of Kirishima's caution and multiplying it himself, instantly
on guard. Kirishima would feel silly for getting Bakugou worked up if this was all him being
paranoid, but he couldn't place his finger on what was bothering his senses, only that
something was off.

The nurse suddenly laughed lightly, the sound just a bit to shrill to be casual, and Kirishima
winced, holding the phone away from his ear.

“I'm just asking because Bakugou's parents are here and wanted to meet you both for lunch,”
the nurse said.

Kirishima's lip curled up even if he didn't have any fangs to show as a Beta. “What do you
mean? I told them not to come back unless Bakugou asked for them specifically,” he said.

The nurse paused on the phone, laughter halting. How would she not have known that?
Kirishima had told all of Bakugou's regular nurses last week to not let Bakugou's parents
back unless the man himself said it was okay.
“They wanted to apologize,” the nurse finally said, and the off note got worse. Kirishima was
slipping into hero mode, senses going haywire.

“Well tell them to wait,” Kirishima said.

“Okay, but just let me know where you are so I can tell them how long it'll be,” she said.

Kirishima jerked as his phone vibrated, another call on the line from his hero agency.

“I've got another call. I'm going to put you on hold,” Kirishima told her, not waiting to hear
her protests as he accepted the new call.

“Red Riot,” he answered.

“Please tell me you're with Bakugou!” Hana, his dispatcher, begged.

“Yes. What's going on?” Kirishima demanded, squeezing Bakugou's hand tighter.

“There was a breakout at the prison! Some of the League's villains got loose!”

Kirishima stiffened, hardening rippling across his skin and he moved closer to Bakugou on
instinct, eyes flashing to the storefronts and windows of buildings around them. They were
too open here. They had to find someplace safer.

“What can you tell me about the ones that got out?” Kirishima demanded, stalking down the
sidewalk with Bakugou following. The Alpha looked furious, snarl painting his lips as his
eyes flashed around them. He could gather what was going on just by what he could hear
from Kirishima. Those fuckers had broke out.

“Um, well,” he heard Hana flipping through pages of paper frantically. “Muscular-muscle
augmentation quirk, Mustard-sleep gas quirk, Magne-magnetism quirk, Spinner-unknown
quirk, and Moonfish-blade-tooth quirk. At the moment, their known accomplices are
Shigaraki-decay quirk, Toga-transformation quirk, Mr. Compress-compression quirk, and
Twice-doubling quirk. Another unidentified man was involved with a fire quirk, and there
was also several sightings of Nomu, like the ones All for One is known to create.”

Kirishima mentally paused on one. “Hana, send other heroes to the hospital and alert the
police. If one of the villains has a transformation quirk, they might have tried to infiltrate the
staff if their target is Bakugou.” He paused, dawning horror. “Holy shit, I think they just
called me. One of his nurses. She sounded wrong on the phone and kept asking where we
were.”

He pulled back to see the call still waiting. “I might still have her on the line. Let me try and
lead her into a trap. Get a call through to Shouto, Ingenium, and Creati to get to the hospital.
They should be closest.” he glanced behind them, catching Bakugou's wild eyes. “We're not
going to the hospital. I won't disclose our location at the moment. Call me if you find
anything out.”

“Yes, sir,” Hana said, before ending the call to get in touch with the other heroes agency.
“How many?” Bakugou asked before Kirishima went back on the other line.

“Five broke out, there were five on the outside, plus some unidentified Nomu,” he said
roughly, not mincing words when the information could help Bakugou prepare for a fight. He
didn't like it, but if it came down to it, he knew Bakugou would fight or die before being
brought back into the League's hands and any information he gave him could help.

“Sorry for the hold, my mom is a bit of a talker,” Kirishima said to the ‘nurse’ as he came
back onto the call, laughed self-deprecating. “I swear, she's a trip sometimes. Did you know
she once spent over half an hour looking for her phone while she was on the phone with my
ma? My ma finally lost control and started laughing when mom started complaining about
being late because she couldn't leave until she found her phone.”

“Oh yes, that's funny,” she said over the phone, just a hint of desperation in her voice that
told Kirishima he was right. “So are you both close to the hospital?”

“I don't really know if we're close,” Kirishima said vaguely, signaling to Bakugou that they
were taking a right at the intersection. “We're mostly just perusing, trying to find someplace
that sounds good. Hey, you don't have any suggestions, do you?”

“Why don't you tell me what area you're in and I can suggest someplace close?” She tried.

“We don't really have a deadline, so anywhere's fine,” Kirishima smoothly. “We don't mind a
walk. And besides, I'm sure Bakugou's parents won't mind waiting.”

“They said it was really important they speak to him as soon as possible,” she pushed.

“They probably shouldn't have stormed out the way they did the other night then,” Kirishima
said, tightness in his voice as he dropped a hint of truth. He still hadn't really talked to
Bakugou about the slap and if that was somehow normal in his family. If so, there was a lot
more issues at hand for them, but he couldn't deal with that now.

“They're very apologetic,” she assured him, and it almost sounded genuine. “They really
want to apologize. In person. If you both aren't ready to come back to the hospital yet, maybe
they can meet you somewhere else? Let me know where you are and I'll tell them to meet you
there as soon as possible.”

Kirishima hummed, gesturing for Bakugou to follow him into an apartment building's lobby,
stepping back towards a corner, glad to be somewhere enclosed and less vulnerable. He
casually leaned against the wall with Bakugou in the corner, watching the door from the
corner of his eye as he held his phone away from his ear for Bakugou to listen too.

“They're just going to have to do some more thinking on how they're going to apologize,”
Kirishima said. “Oh, BBQ! Maybe we should try there?” Kirishima said, away from the
phone as if he'd been suggesting someplace to Bakugou.

“BBQ? You're at a BBQ place?” She asked, hint of excitement in her tone.
“Man,” Kirishima continued, still talking into the air, “I haven't had real Korean BBQ in
forever. What do you say? Want to give it a try?”

“Sure, why not?” Bakugou spoke unexpectedly, low tone held behind his hand, muffling his
voice so it barely carried over the phone. His eyes were cold and sharp, like steel, as he
glared at the door.

The nurse let out a short pitched squeal that cut off instantly. “Oh, I see. Well I'll pass the
message along to Bakugou's parents that they'll just have to wait,” she said. “We'll see you
soon!” She said.

“Yeah, bye!” Kirishima said.

As soon as he hung up, he dialed Iida.

“Ingenium,” Iida asked seriously as soon as he picked up, probably through the receiver in
his helmet.

“They're going to be staking out Korean BBQ places near the hospital, probably. There's only
two, so they'll probably split up,” he reported.

“Are you and Bakugou somewhere safe?”

“Yes,” Kirishima said. It was standard to reveal the location of someone they were trying to
keep safe to as few people as possible, even fellow heroes.

“Then call if you need help. Pinky, Tentacole, Uravity, and Tailman have also been mobilized
along with Shouto, Creati, and I. Deku is on his way, but he was out of the immediate area so
it may take a bit.”

“I don't need that fucking nerd's help,” Bakugou growled.

“Thanks for the help, Ingenium,” Kirishima said. “Let me know if you catch wind of
anything.”

“Of course! Take care!”

“Come on,” Kirishima said as he hung up, leading Bakugou towards the stairwell.

“Where are we going?” Bakugou asked.

“This is one of my friend's apartments,” he said, pulling out a ring of keys and finding the
spare that Todoroki had given a copy to everyone from their class to his spare apartments,
just in case of situations like this.

“Apartments,” Bakugou repeated incredulously.

“He likes spending his dad's money on frivolous stuff, like having four apartments even
though he lives with Midoriya most of the time anyways.”
“Are you serious?” Bakugou said as Kirishima worked the door open and flipped on the
light.

“Well we can't go to mine. They know you're with me. And we don't need to be involved with
the fight if we can avoid it.”

“I can fight,” Bakugou spat.

“I know,” Kirishima said, trying to coax Bakugou over the threshold. “But you've done
enough fighting for your life from these villains.”

Bakugou shook, every nerve telling him he should be out there, fighting and winning. He
couldn't just sit back and hide, even if the prospect of never having to see those shitheads
again was tempting.

“Who's loose?” Bakugou asked, finally stepping into the apartment so Kirishima could close
and lock the door. At the very least, he could get more information about who he was up
against.

“Muscular, Mustard, Magne, Spinner, and Moonfish got out,” Kirishima said. “They were
helped by Mr. Compress, Toga, Twice, Shigaraki, some fire quirk guy, and a few Nomu.”

“Dabi,” Bakugou said with a growl.

“What?” Kirishima asked.

“The fire quirk user. I bet it's Dabi.”

“I don't know if we have a Dabi in the database,” Kirishima said, frowning at the unfamiliar
name and pulling up the villain database on his phone, logging in with his hero information.

“He doesn't have much of a track record,” Bakugou said. “I only met him a handful of times
in the beginning. He wasn't involved in the ring, I don't think.” Bakugou grinded his teeth
together. “He's the motherfucker who took me in the first place. If it wasn't for him, I
would've been able to get away.”

Kirishima pulled him up, finding only a small arson case he'd been suspected of but never
charged with due to lack of evidence and a petty theft charge. A very short rap sheet
compared to the rest of the League's.

“All the shitheads you named are Shigaraki's though,” Bakugou said.

“What does that mean, Shigaraki's?”

“All for One ran the whole League, but Shigaraki was like his pet. He let him do whatever he
wanted basically. Shigaraki was actually the one who decided he wanted me and he's the one
who had me taken, not All for One. All for One mostly just humored him. Shigaraki and his
crew took a try at breaking me in the beginning, but when he couldn't get me to crack I guess
he went crying to All for One and that's how I ended up in the ring. Everything after that I
guess was All for One's idea.” Which meant the fighting, the constant threat of rape, the
starvation and forcing him to cannibalize for survival. Shigaraki had been nothing compared
to his master. Shigaraki had thought a little isolation and vague promises of glory and power
would bring him to his side. The look of complete disbelief on his face when Bakugou had
exploded him directly after being released from his chains in the beginning had been
priceless.

“I don't think most of them were involved with the ring,” Bakugou said. “I didn't really see
any of them after All for One made me his project. Except for Toga,” he added, memories
swirling. “Keep that sick fuck away from me,” he growled warningly.

“I'll keep them all away from you,” Kirishima promised.

Bakugou studied the room for a moment, hands clenching and unclenching.

“You're sure they won't find us here?” Bakugou asked after a long moment.

“I don't think so,” Kirishima said, wincing at the unsurity in his answer. “If they somehow do
though, they'll wish they hadn't,” he added more sternly, hardened fists making a satisfying
thunk as he hit his fists together in front of his chest.

Bakugou studied him for a long moment before nodding, seemingly accepting that answer as
he looked down at his palms with a grim face.

Then they both settled in the living room, Kirishima watching the windows and Bakugou
pacing for a bit, watching all the possible entries into the apartment before sitting for a few
minutes and then getting up to pace again. Reluctantly, Kirishima turned on the news, turning
the volume low to keep a check on if any confrontations had occurred yet.

“The recent breakout from the maximum security prison had led to the mobilization of many
high ranked heroes,” the announcer spoke. “There's been an increase in patrols in the area as
well, reportedly for a precautionary measure. No word from police or heroes yet on what they
believe the villains to be after or why they expect them to be in the downtown area. Citizens
have been asked that they please remain indoors if at all possible and that anyone venturing
onto the streets please remain vigilant and do not linger in the area unnecessarily.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, finally sitting still for a minute. “Those idiots probably aren't going
to attack in the middle of the city,” he said. “Most likely they planned on snatching me and
running. They don't have the guts to start an all out battle downtown with all these heroes
around. All for One would, but not Shigaraki's crew.”

Kirishima hummed in acknowledgement, watching the video footage of downtown which

was full of heroes and sidekicks it seemed.

“Where did they take you in the first place?” Kirishima asked.

“The woods,” Bakugou growled. “Went out for a hike after graduation for a breather before I
started work with Miruko. Cowards fucking set the forest on fire and then that Compress-shit
turned me into a marble. They have a warp guy too, Kurogiri. Fucking asshole made a warp
gate and brought us all back. I didn't have a clue if I was even still in Japan.” he fumed.
Kirishima frowned. “No one's mentioned a warp quirk user,” he said.

“Kurogiri’s slick,” Bakugou grumbled, glaring at the TV. “He's the brain behind Shigaraki's
operation, honestly. Shigaraki is like a kid himself, just a damned brat throwing a tantrum.
Add that with those psychos in his crew and there's no telling what those crazy shitheads will
do.”

They sat in silence, both contemplative. Bakugou's leg started bouncing and he couldn't focus
on the newscaster, anxious energy making him jumpy as he stood and paced the room again.

Kirishima stood, reaching out to softly brush down his arm. Bakugou jerked away from his
touch, a low growl ripping through his throat.

“No,” he snapped, holding explosions in his sparkling palms. “Not now.”

Kirishima nodded, backing off and moving closer to the windows, giving Bakugou a moment
without being under his perusal.

“Hey, about the other night,” Kirishima began slowly, “with your parents.”

“Ugh. That,” Bakugou said. His hands shook with excess emotion and he wished things
would just stop, calm down. It was too much at once, he didn't know how to keep up.

“Not to pry or anything. Just…” Kirishima hesitated. “Was that...normal? The way your mom
acted?”

Bakugou sighed, shrugging. “I was raised with violence. That in itself wasn't odd. I just don't
get why.” He paced the floor, staring down at his feet. “It's good that you held me back. I
probably would've actually hurt both of them if you hadn't stopped me.”

“It was stupid of her to slap you,” Kirishima growled, anger banking his voice. “You didn't
do anything, for one. You're her kid, for another. Not to mention everything else.”

Bakugou rolled his shoulders. “That's how mom is. It's how she's always been. I don't really
care. Don't even know why you got so angry.”

Kirishima looked at him incredulously. “You don't get why I'd be angry that she slapped you
for no reason?”

Bakugou shrugged again.

Kirishima was interrupted by his phone ringing.

“Red Riot,” he answered automatically.

“Ri-t! You nee- t- e--cuat- -ow! Th- -ill--ns ---cked y--r sig--l!”

“What?” He glanced at his phone. “Ingenium? What's wrong? You're breaking up, dude.”

“Eva---te n-w!”
Kirishima turned the volume up louder. “Repeat?” He asked.

“RUN!”

Kirishima's eyes widened, meeting Bakugou's own panicked gaze just before the apartment
building rumbled beneath their feet from a strong impact.

“Shit,” Kirishima cursed, dropping his phone and leaping towards Bakugou, hardening as
cracks ran up the walls and screams filled the building.

“Window!” Bakugou shouted, popping explosions from his palms. “Now!”

Kirishima couldn't let himself hesitate, trusting Bakugou and running straight for the window
and hardening completely before impact. Bakugou followed through the hole he'd made,
explosions propelling him through the air while Kirishima landed hard against the asphalt.

“Yeeeeeah!”

The exuberant shout was Kirishima's only warning as the villain attacked, fists swinging
wildly. The other man had a wide grin on his face, mechanical eye making the look all the
more disturbing.

“I've always wanted to fight you,” the villain crowed excitedly. “Red Riot, the sturdy hero.
Wonder what it'll take to break you?” He sent a barrage of fists towards Kirishima, which he
took with barely more than a grunt before swinging out to get himself some space and to try
and find Bakugou.

Explosions echoed through the air and it was easy for Kirishima was find him, squared off
between three other villains. One had an odd mask and trench coat, another had flames
licking at his hands, and the third drooled excessively with his mouth open.

“You can't afford to worry about him,” the villain in front of him shouted, earning Kirishima's
attention as he attacked.

“Fuck,” Kirishima hissed.

Kirishima heard a whoosh and barely manage to duck as a knife went flying over his head. A
girl was standing at his back, face pouting in a childish moue as she stomped her foot.

“I can't play with Baku-chan until you go away!” She demanded, flinging another knife at
him which he hardened to deflect.

A monstrous roar distracted him and a Nomu with wings flew into the disarray, attacking
indiscriminately.

“Where the hell is everybody?” Kirishima muttered breathlessly, dodging another attack from
the girl and barely managing to harden enough to withstand the man's follow up attack that
came immediately after.

“SMASH!”
Kirishima had never been happier to see a green blur.

“Deku!” He shouted, relieved.

Midoriya's hit on the villain was true and sent the muscular villain flying back.

“Riot!” He greeted back, confident and with his trademark smile. “Where's Kacchan?”

A flurry of explosions a block away answered for him, earning both their attention.

“That's what I'm talking about!” The muscular villain shouted, launching himself back at
Midoriya without pause.

“Help Kacchan!” Midoriya demanded, bracing for the attack. “I'll handle these guys.”

“On it!” Kirishima yelled, already headed that way.

“Die, motherfuckers! ” Bakugou screeched, blasting himself away from the man in the trench
coat's touch.

“Hey now, no need for such language,” the villain chastised him.

The drooling villain laughed and seconds later blades sprung from his mouth in a wild
display without any discernible pattern.

“Behind!” Kirishima shouted the warning for Bakugou before he blocked the attack, forced
back into Bakugou's space from the momentum.

“Incoming,” Bakugou warned just before flames came for them. Bakugou launched himself
into the air and Kirishima hardened, rolling to dodge the flames and reaching out with a
rocky hand to try and get a hold of the villain.

“Shit,” the villain cursed, jumping away to dodge Kirishima's swipe at him.

“Bakugou, stay close!” Kirishima shouted.

“Die!” Bakugou yelled, blasting away to attack the fire user.

“Goddammit, ” Kirishima hissed in frustration.

Red flames intercepted the blade-tooth's villain’s next attack and ice followed.

“Shouto!”

“Where's Bakugou?” Todoroki asked.

“He went after another villain,” Kirishima explained, hardening to catch a wild tooth-blade.

“We need to stay together,” Todoroki grumbled, irritated. “Go find him. I'll take care of this
guy.”
 Kirishima grunted at another impact but left the villain to him before listening for more
explosions.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima called out when he didn't hear any sounds of fighting, panic stuck in
his throat. “Bakugou!”

He ran in the last direction Bakugou had been headed in, desperate eyes searching every
corner. The Nomu roared behind him, crashing into something, and he heard Deku call out an
attack, intercepting it.

“Bakugou! ” He yelled again, thinking about warp quirks and how quickly they worked, how
far they reached if strong enough. He looked down an alley, skidding to a stop at the scene.

“BAKUGOU!”

Bakugou thrashed in the fire user's hold, the villain having a grasp on his neck as he pulled
him towards a warp gate.

“You're going to have to kill me, motherfucker!” Bakugou screeched, kicking and hitting as
much as he could in the limited space. Kirishima rushed forward, dawning horror letting him
recognize the quirk-suppressing cuffs swinging around one of Bakugou's hands.

The villain glanced at him and grinned, skin stretched over awful burns as he drug Bakugou
back. “Too bad, Red Riot,” he cooed mockingly.

Bakugou jerked, wild eyes meeting Kirishima's. Kirishima didn't know how much time he
had as the warp surrounded them so he lowered his head and ran full speed for them. He’d be
going straight into the hornets’ nest, but he wasn't going to let Bakugou be taken alone.

“Don't!” Bakugou shouted. “Don't come!”

Kirishima hesitated, confused, and that second was all it took for the warp gate to close and
for Bakugou to be gone.

“No,” Kirishima begged, trembling in horror. He'd failed. All his promises to save him, to
protect him, and now…

“NO! ” Kirishima roared, voice crackling as a sob came through, disbelief fogging his brain.
“Please,” he whispered into the air.

No one answered.

Chapter End Notes

CHAPTER WARNINGS: panic attacks, a few victim-blaming comments towards

victims of PSTD (made by Bakugou), mention of cannibalism, mentions of attempted
rape, implied/referenced child abuse

(as always, please let me know if you notice something else that you think should be
tagged; I do the best I can, but I'm only human)

I am absolutely not forgetting about this one, y'all! I know it's been ages; I hope you still
enjoyed this chapter though! Please let me know your thoughts. I know I left it on bit of
a cliffhanger, but I promise I'm working on the next chapter and that it should be up a
little quicker.

Happy Holidays, everyone! <3

 Chapter 8
Chapter Notes

Sorry about the wait!

We are working off script now as I've only seen up to just after the kidnapping arc. I
haven't seen a lot of the villains so I'm sorry if they come off as OOC. Hopefully you'll
like my twist on things!

Another cliffhanger, btw! I just couldn't find another good place to end the chapter.

As always, CHAPTER WARNINGS IN END NOTES

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Mission status: . . .

Villains: three captured. Muscular, muscular augmentation quirk; Moonfish, blade-tooth

quirk; and a Nomu.

Civilians: no casualties. Two reported major injuries. Five reported minor injuries.

Damages: three buildings requiring major repairs. Minor repairs needed in surrounding area.
Two roads currently blocked off.

Target: Bakugou Katsuki, taken.

Whereabouts: unknown.

Leads: none.

. . . Failure.

…..

“This one didn't break for All for One, what makes you think he'll break now?”

“We don't need him to break. This isn't about that.”

“Then what's it about?”

“This is about the heroes getting the better of us. We need to prove that we're still powerful.”

“By stealing some half-mad Alpha?”

“By taking back what was ours. We were the ones who took him before. He's ours, regardless
of what we do with him. Breaking him for the purpose of working alongside us isn't the
objective anymore.”

“Ooo, does that mean I can have him? I love playing with Baku-chan!”

“Later. Right now I want to try something.”

“If you don't want to have him work with us, what's the objective of this?”

“Complete surrender.”

“So you do still want him to break.”

“I want him to shatter completely into so many pieces he doesn't recognize himself. Then I
want him to beg for mercy.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“The one thing Master never tried.”

“Which is?”

“Total solitary confinement.”

…..

Bakugou didn't know if he should rage or wait them out. They had him chained at the
moment, heavy quirk-suppressing steel around his arms and a muzzle over his mouth. It was
demeaning, it was horrifying, but mostly, it was infuriating. Bakugou wished he had a word
for the complete and utter rage swirling within him, waiting for him to explode. The chains
meant he should wait, bide his time. But when those stupid fuckers finally let him free, he'd
be ready to strike.

For now though, he was just being left alone. One light illuminated the room, a cold cell no
bigger than about ten feet by ten feet with nothing within other than him.

The light flickered.

Bakugou's breath hitched and he stared directly at the light. Even with all that All for One
had done, he'd always been left with a light somewhere. The shitty ones in the hallway at his
last cell, dim but ever present, the blazing ones over the ring, the bright whites from the
‘clinic' whenever he'd been injured in the ring enough to warrant treatment.

The light flickered again, longer.

Bakugou's breath stuttered, bloodshot eyes wide.

The light flickered out.

…..

Midoriya Izuku stared at the picture of his childhood best friend and ached.

Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki had never been easy, he would freely admit. There was a
lot of baggage between them that it would take years to unravel. That didn't mean he didn't
care for him though, that the idea of him being back in those villains’ hands didn't stir him
with raging fury. Bakugou may be a jerk, but he was his jerk, dammit.

Midoriya clenched his teeth and bit back a yell, glaring at the empty map staring back at him.
No leads, no clues, no hints. But regardless of the chances, Midoriya had to find him. He
couldn't fail him again.

He bit his lip, remembering the absolute catastrophe that had been karaoke night. He hadn't
known Bakugou was going, hadn't even been aware Kirishima knew him, but he would never
forget the look of devastated betrayal Bakugou had shot him. It had cut him to his core.
Midoriya knew he and Bakugou hadn't left for high school on the best terms, but even so, he
had never wanted to see that look on his face. Bakugou wasn't meant to wear that look on his
face. Bakugou was prideful and confident and brilliant, so much so that he blinded Midoriya
sometimes. That those villains had had him once was too much, a second time was
inexcusable.

He knew Kirishima felt the same. Watching the sturdy hero break down after Bakugou had
been taken had not been fun. Midoriya had felt like raging too, furious at the world with no
target to focus on.

“Izuku?”

Midoriya sighed, leaning into Todoroki's touch and closing his eyes on the empty map.

“Where is he?” He asked the air.

“We'll find him,” Todoroki assured him, pulling Midoriya into his hold and nosing at his hair,
lips brushing his temple familiarly in an attempt to comfort.

They had to find him.

…..

Kirishima sat in his office, staring at the report on the screen of his computer blankly.
Midoriya, Todoroki, Iida, and all other heroes that had had direct involvement with any of the
villains had submitted one, most of them reading the same way. As it had been explained to
him, the villains had caused a ruckus near one of the Korean BBQ restaurants when they
weren't able to locate Bakugou and then somehow tracked Kirishima's phone to their hideout.
By the time the heroes had realized this, Iida had tried to warn him, but his helmet had been
damaged and it broke up his signal.

Kirishima's head made a heavy thunk as he dropped it onto his desk. He'd had failures before,
but never this complete and never this personal. He was a horrible hero.
“Kirishima?”

Hana knocked on the door lightly before poking her head in, a worried frown on her face.
“I'm sorry to interrupt, but Deku is here.”

“It's okay, Hana. He can come in,” Kirishima assured her.

“Kirishima,” Midoriya greeted, not even bothering with taking a seat before he grabbed
Kirishima's arm and roughly pulled him up and into an embrace. Kirishima didn't fight it,
hugging Midoriya back just as tightly as he sniffled pathetically.

“He was right there,” he stressed, as he had been since Bakugou had disappeared.

“I know. But we'll get him back,” Midoriya promised steely. “This time we can and will find
him. They won't keep him again.”

Kirishima nodded, bolstered, and tried to steel himself too. Midoriya had always been an
inspiration to him, but right then Kirishima really saw why everyone was starting to call him
the New Symbol of Hope.

“Right. No use wasting time feeling sorry for ourselves,” Kirishima said, shaking the fear and
doubt and managing a weak grin.

Midoriya smiled back, clapping his shoulder. “Sounds pretty manly to me,” he said. “Now
let's get Kacchan back.”

…..

“You did what?” Kirishima asked in surprise.

“I put a tracker on one of the Nomu when they attacked the BBQ place and then retreated
suddenly,” Yaoyorozu said. She held up the receiver device. “We should be able to track their
location to wherever they're hiding out with Bakugou.”

Kirishima could have cried. “You are an angel,” he said seriously.

“We need to get a proper team together,” Iida interrupted.

Kirishima frowned. “I'm not leaving him there longer than absolutely necessary. I've already
failed him once, it won't happen again.”

“You're rushing into things, aren't you?” Yaoyorozu frowned. “We need a plan.”

“Yaomomo, they had him for four years,” Kirishima stressed.

She bit her lip unsurely.

“Todoroki, you're the highest ranking hero here; you must agree that we need to wait and
make a plan first,” Iida said.
Todoroki hummed thoughtfully. “I actually agree with Kirishima,” he said, before glancing
over at Midoriya. “I'll go with whatever Izuku decides is best though. He's your childhood
friend.”

Midoriya gritted his teeth in frustration. “We need to save Kaachan,” he said, leaning over the
table and hanging his head. “But I don't know if we should wait or…”

“Come on, Midoriya,” Kirishima pled desperately. “We can't make him wait when we could
still reach him. We could send coordinates to the police and the top heros so they could
follow, but we need to get to him as soon as we can.”

Midoriya clenched his eyes shut. “We need more backup,” he admitted.

Kirishima bit back a growl. “The backup can follow us after,” he declared. “We're not kids in
school anymore, waiting on the pros to save us. We are the pros.”

“Kirishima, Todoroki is only rank seven, Midoriya rank nine, and they're the highest among
us. We don't have the manpower to do an infiltration and rescue. We need more hands, if
nothing else.”

“So we let Bakugou stay with the people who tortured him for years because we're not ready
to be heroes? What did we go to school for then?” Kirishima demanded. “I aim to live a life
free of regret and if I don't save Bakugou then that'll be my biggest regret! He was right in
front of me and I failed him! I won't even be able to call myself a man if I don't do
something,” he stressed.

“It's not All for One,” Todoroki pointed out. “It's Shigaraki and his group. We already know
the ones involved. It's not like we're busting another ring.”

“And if we don't get them fast, they might find the tracker on the Nomu,” Kirishima latched
on. “And then we really will be busting another ring, only it'll be another four years before
we find them. And Bakugou won't survive another four years. He'll kill himself before he
does that,” he added seriously.

They all frowned in thought.

“Send the coordinates to Endeavor and the other top five,” Midoriya said. “We'll call the
police chief on the way. Let's go save Kacchan.”

Kirishima grinned, fists thunking together heavily across his chest.

“Hell yeah.”

…..

As they neared the base, eyes taking in the abandoned-looking warehouse that Yaoyorozu's
tracker was telling them led to the Nomu, they all started to slow, being more cautious.
"Shouto, Creati, and I will handle fighting off the villains. Iida, you'll be the fastest at
checking for other hostages," Midoriya said, looking over at Kirishima. "Kirishima, you need
to focus on finding Kacchan. Whatever they've done, you'll have the best chance of getting
through to him. It has to be you."

Kirishima nodded seriously. "I'll find him," he declared, a note of steel ringing through his
voice.

They spaced out a bit, looking to each other. Midoroya waited until he got the all ready sign
from all four of them before grinning brightly and stepping up to the door.

"Delivery!" He shouted cheerfully, before punching through the warehouse door. "Smash!"

Midoriya rushed in, followed quickly by the other four. He didn't pause in heading straight
for the baffled villains, making a distracting ruckus while Iida and Kirishima ran past them
towards the hallway. Kirishima felt flames licking at his back and he pressed harder, refusing
to look back. A shout told him the villain, Dabi he presumed, had been intercepted.

Adrenaline focused his mind like blinders, leaving the early rooms to Iida once a quick
glance showed them Bakugou-free before he barreled on. He slammed into a villain without
hesitation, surprising the man who'd been headed to the lobby where the ruckus was still
going. Kirishima shoved him into the wall hard, the man dazed, before literally throwing him
over his shoulder to get him out of the way. He didn't hear the man get up, so Kirishima
assumed he was either unconscious or in too much pain. He didn't have the time to waste
checking on him.

He hardened his fingers and peeled locked doors open, not willing to take the time to wait for
another hero to show up with lock-picking abilities. Most were supply rooms, though he did
run into a couple that held more villains. It was easy to take them out one or two at a time
though, especially when most of them were distracted by the others.

Where is he? He thought frantically. He had to be here. They had no other ideas, no other
leads. If the villains had him somewhere else, the chances of them finding him in time...

He's got to be here, Kirishima thought to himself, bursting down another hall of the villains’
hideout as the sounds of fighting continued behind him.

“Bakugou!” He shouted, kicking down a door before moving to the next one. “Where are
you?!”

Nothing. He paused to listen, trying to hold in his own panting. The hallway was quiet,
almost eerily so, though he could still hear the muffled fight behind him. The warehouse the
villains were hiding in was nowhere near the size of the ones All for One had been using and
all of the other halls had been checked. He had to be here. He just had to be.

“Bakugou!” He yelled again, kicking in another door.

He should've figured it would be the last door in the hallway. He forced it open, holding his
breath as fear nearly drove him mad. Gods, if he wasn't here, if they'd taken him somewhere
else, if he--
Kirishima almost missed him, as still as he was. The smell of the room told him first that
someone was occupying it, or at the very least that someone had been. He fought to keep
from gagging, stepping into the dark room with only the light from the hall to help him see.

It was enough.

Bars separated them. A lone figure sat slumped against a chair. Chains decorated him like a
Christmas tree. He was breathing shallowly, head hung low in defeat. Kirishima's heart ached
and he furiously reached for the bars, hardening and forcing them to bend as he felt an
overwhelming desperation to get to him.

“Bakugou,” he called out, almost a whisper. He hesitated to touch him, scared of what may
have happened, but he had to get him free.

He tore the chains away from the chair and got the muzzle off along with as many chains as
he could without hurting him. The smell of human excrement was strong and he did his best
to ignore it. Hatred unlike anything he'd ever felt welled up but he pushed it down. Now
wasn't the time for that. He had to stay calm. Bakugou needed him now more than ever.

“Bakugou,” he murmured gently.

Bakugou didn't react, but Kirishima could still see him breathing. It was the only thing
keeping him halfway sane.

“I'm going to pick you up,” he voiced, taking off the cloth at his hips and doing his best to
cover Bakugou for some sense of modesty. Then, moving as slowly as possible, he gathered
him into his arms, holding him close to his chest. Bakugou slumped against him limply.

“Oh gods, please be okay,” Kirishima begged, moving faster as he started down the hall with
Bakugou in his arms.

He avoided the battles still raging, ducking outside the side entrance and rushing to the outer
barriers where an ambulance was waiting. It looked like more heroes had finally arrived as
well, along with the police who were handling the villains who were already subdued.

“He's unresponsive!” Kirishima shouted. “Shallow breathing, no visible wounds. Body

temperature is low.”

“How was he found?” A nurse asked as he got closer.

“Alone, chained to a chair. He's been there for at least a couple days without being moved.”
Even as quick as they'd moved, the villains had still had him for over three days. Kirishima
wanted to scream. He'd probably been chained to that chair for the entire time. Three
goddamn days!

“Any reaction to stimuli beyond breathing?”

“Not that I've seen,” Kirishima said, moving to set him down on the gurney.
Suddenly Bakugou thrashed out, claws digging into Kirishima's arm. He yelped, startled, and
hissed in pain. Bakugou's eyes flew open as he stared at the night sky without seeing
anything and he roared, loud and long. He swiped at the nurses around him, flailing wildly on
the gurney with a mindless rage.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima yelled, hardening and bracing him down. Bakugou continued the
growl even as blood dripped from Kirishima's arm onto his shoulder and he panted with his
mouth open, fangs enlarged and nostrils flaring.

Bakugou roared one last time as a nurse injected him with a sedative before he slumped down
onto the bed and let his eyes slide closed again.

“You're safe,” Kirishima confirmed, brushing his dirty hair back. The claws in his arm
relaxed. “You're safe,” he repeated, because he was and he could. He dropped his head on
Bakugou's chest and sobbed. “You're safe.”

…..

It was dark and they still hadn't come. Bakugou had no clue how long he'd been here. It was
so quiet, so dark. He shivered, stomach cramping, and his entire body ached from the chains
criss-crossing him.

"It's been forty-eight hours," he heard a voice sing as the door opened, suddenly flooding the
room with light. "Ready to play, Baku-chan?"

…..

Kirishima sat next to Bakugou with an air of defeat, shoulders slumped as the blond
continued to rest undisturbed on the hospital bed.

"Kirishima?"

He glanced at the door, nodding to Recovery Girl who entered quietly. She shuffled over and
placed a hand on his arm.

"He'll be okay," she promised kindly. "He's very strong. You know that."

"He's been asleep for two days."

"That's because of the sedative. He should wake up soon." She walked over and gently slid
out the IV giving him nutrients while Kirishima watched. "Better he not do so with this in,
hm? Our explosive friend here is more liable to hurt himself if he wakes up with a needle in
him."

Kirishima nodded, nearly choking up. If he'd just been faster, smarter, stronger…

"This isn't your fault," she interrupted his thoughts. "I'm sure Bakugou feels the same way.
You've been a very good friend to him."
Kirishima thought about holding hands, about Bakugou's breath at his neck, scenting him. He
thought about giving him his jacket because Bakugou only felt safe around him. He clenched
his eyes against the tears welling. All that, that felt like more than being a good friend. And
that made this failure hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced.

"He'll be okay," Recovery Girl repeated, patting his hand twice before leaving the room.

Kirishima hesitantly reached out, holding Bakugou's hand in both of his own. "I'm so sorry,"
he whispered, dropping his forehead against his side, feeling Bakugou's every breath. "Please
be okay."

Kirishima felt Bakugou stir not long after and he raised his head to meet his gaze, brushing
his hand with his fingers.

"Easy, you're safe," he spoke up as Bakugou tensed, looking ready to fight.

Bakugou blinked at him, foggy eyes focusing and looking all the more calculative. Kirishima
offered a nervous smile. "Hey," he said, feeling anxious suddenly under Bakugou's
consideration.

"Hey," Bakugou rasped, before breaking into a coughing fit. Kirishima grabbed a glass of
water quickly, offering it and watching Bakugou down it just as fast. He smacked his lips
loudly, humming, and Kirishima sat back down.

"You've been asleep for two days," he offered, earning Bakugou's attention again. "They, uh.
They had you for three."

Bakugou's eyes seemed to crinkle in the corners, almost like a smile. "You saved me then?"

"Well, me and the others," Kirishima murmured, head dropping as he rubbed at the back of
his neck. "Bakugou, I am so--"

"Others?" Bakugou cut him off. "What others?"

Kirishima gulped, looking up. "Um. Creati. Ingenium. Shouto. And. Well. Deku," he finished
hesitantly, waiting for the blow up he knew was coming.

Bakugou sat up, red eyes practically burning. "Deku?" He demanded loudly. "Bring him
here! I want to talk to him!"

Kirishima blinked before his brows furrowed. "What?"

"I need to talk to Deku," Bakugou said again, eyes intense and voice practically a growl.
"You can do that much, can't you?" He practically snarled. Kirishima winced, stung.

"I. Yeah. I can call him, if you're sure. I mean, last time--"

"Quit fucking stalling and bring him here!" Bakugou snapped angrily. Kirishima leapt to his
feet, feeling completely off as he nodded and fished his phone out of his pocket.
"Alright, I'll call him, I'm just going to step outside," he said, leaving the room in a rush.

What had that been about? Kirishima couldn't wrap his head around it, dialing Deku's number
on autopilot.

"Deku here!"

"Midoriya, it's Kirishima. I'm at the hospital with Bakugou, he just woke up."

"Kacchan's awake?" Midoriya exhaled immediately. "I'm so glad. Thank you for letting me
know!"

"He, uh. He actually wants to talk to you. Or, see you. He asked me to see if you could come
visit."

Midoriya coughed over the line, startled. "Kacchan...wants to see me?"

"That's weird, right?" Kirishima whispered, glancing back at the door to the room. "I'm not
the only one thinking it, right?"

Midoriya hummed, sounding troubled. "I'll come right there," he said after a moment. "Stay
with him."

"Of course," Kirishkma agreed before hanging up. He walked back into the room, instantly
becoming Bakugou's focus.

"He's coming," Kirishima said, trying to smile normally. Bakugou scoffed, looking away.

"Fucker better not take long," he grumbled. Kirishima relaxed a little at the familiar attitude.

"I could just tell him what you need, if you don't want to see him," Kirishima suggested.

"I can tell him my own shit," Bakugou snapped angrily. "The fuck you even doing here?
Don't you ever go home?"

Kirishima winced. "I want to make sure you're okay."

"I don't need a fucking babysitter," Bakugou snarled. Kirishima sat in the awkward silence
for a moment, hesitating. He glanced to the door. He didn't think it was a good idea for
Bakugou to meet with Midoriya after what had happened, not alone.

"You've never minded me lingering before. I can just check my emails or something. We
don't have to talk."

Bakugou visibly grinded his teeth but turned away, crossing his arms.

They waited in silence after that. Kirishima felt each minute.

There was a knock on the door and they both turned to look as Midoriya peeked his head in
nervously. "Kacchan?" He squeaked out.
"Deku," Bakugou said. It was low, even, empty. Midoriya ventured further into the room,
fingers twisting together. "Come here," Bakugou waved him closer. Midoriya's brows
scrunched and he sent Kirishima a quick questioning glance who only shrugged helplessly.
Midoriya stepped up to Bakugou's bedside.

"Yes, Kacchan?"

Bakugou smirked. "You saved me, huh? You and the rest of the heroes?"

Midoriya nodded slowly. "Yes," he agreed quietly.

Bakugou's smirk widened. It looked near feral. Kirishima clutched at the arms of his chair.
The air was tense.

"Well I need to tell you something."

"Okay. What is it, Kacchan?"

"You failed."

Midoriya and Kirishima both stiffened, glancing at each other. "What?" Kirishima finally
croaked out, shifting closer to the edge of his seat.

Bakugou leapt from the bed, tackling Midoriya. Something metal shined in his hand and he
stabbed it at Midoriya. Kirishima leapt to pull him off, both of them shouting for help while
Bakugou continued to slice and stab wildly, cackling with glee.

"Deku, Deku, Deku!" Bakugou sang, giggling. "New Symbol of Hope? I think not! You
failed! You all failed!" Kirishima pinned his hands behind his back, twisting one hand until
he dropped his weapon, a scalpel. Bakugou dropped his head back onto Kirishima's shoulder
and Kirishima was suddenly exposed to his scent glands, the overwhelming scent of Omega
so strong even his Beta senses could pick up on it.

"Wha--Bakugou? How--"

Transformation quirk.

Kirishima's eyes widened.

"He's all alone in the dark! You left him all alone! You'll never find him now, walked right
past him and now he's dead!" Not-Bakugou was crowing, practically dead-weight as they
made Kirishima hold all their weight. "Two days you've been watching me, but no one was
looking for him! Failed! You failed!"

The door burst open and two nurses came in, along with three guards. The nurses quickly
rushed to Midoriya's side while the guards turned to Bakugou.

"Who are you?" Kirishima demanded, shaking the person in his arms. He went through the
list of villains that had been with Shigaraki. "Himiko Toga, transformation quirk." He looked
to the guards. "Get Eraserhead here. We're going to need his quirk. And the police. Bakugou
Katsuki is still missing."

…..

Eraserhead stared at the blonde girl chained to a chair opposite the one-way mirror at the
police station. Red Riot was pacing next to him, Creati, Ingenium and Endeavor also present.

"They knew we were coming," Ingenium spoke.

"They must have found my tracker," Creati said sadly, "and set up a trap instead of just
destroying it. It bought them more time to hide Bakugou's real location."

"If you had informed us earlier," Endeavour began.

"It wouldn't have made a difference if he was already gone," Eraserhead cut him off sternly.
Even if these there weren't technically his students anymore, he wasn't about to let the
hotheaded hero take his anger out on them. "We need to put that behind us and figure out how
to move forward."

"She knows where he is," Red Riot growled next to him, glaring at her through the mirror.
"She has to."

"She won't talk," Eraserhead pointed out.

Red Riot's fingers curled into fists and hardening rippled down his arms. Eraserhead got the
feeling he was close to making her talk, which wouldn't be good for the young hero. He
squeezed his shoulder tightly.

"Riot. Calm down." Riot sent Eraserhead a heavy glare, which was returned just as darkly.
"We all want to find Bakugou. Losing your head won't help anything." Riot sighed, exhaling
and closing his eyes. Riot had never been a hothead, maybe a bit stubborn but never overly
aggressive, so Eraserhead was a bit surprised to see him so affected. He looked over to
Ingenium and Creati. They both wore expressions of determination. "How's Deku?"

"The hospital said he'll be fine, the wounds were mostly superficial," Creati said. "The worst
was to his thigh, but she failed to hit his artery so he should be up and about soon with
Recovery Girl's help."

Eraserhead nodded. "Ideas?" He offered, looking to Endeavor.

"They will have obviously moved on from their last hideaway," Endeavor intoned. "We'd
have to instigate a city-wide search. We have no clues or hints."

"Then instigate the search," Riot demanded.

Endeavor sneered. "It's one boy, one life. We're not mobilizing the entire city's hero force for
one boy."
Riot snarled, posturing up like an Alpha--which the Alpha fire-hero was quick to return.
Between Riot's hardening and his hair, he actually came out a few inches taller than Endeavor
and Endeavor growled in anger, stepping closer to Riot with his fists flaming. Riot met him
easily, stalking forward and puffing up his chest, glad his strength training made them a close
match. Eraserhead used his quirk to stop Endeavor's flames, both his own and the other
Alpha's scents combating in the small room while Creati and Ingenium both pressed back
against the wall, watching the scene with shocked eyes.

"Both of you, calm down," Eraserhead ordered.

"This boy thinks he knows what it means to be a hero? You'll never make it to the bigtime
like that," Endeavor sneered.

"I don't want to make it to be the bigtime if it means forgetting that every life matters!" Riot
snapped.

"Listen, you little Beta--"

"Like hell, you pompous, egotistical Alpha--"

"Enough!"

They both startled when the door opened, Shouto standing in the doorway with an
unimpressed glare on his father. Endeavor backed away a touch, instantly defensive.

"Shouto--"

"No," Shouto cut him off curtly, turning to Riot. "Go take a walk," he ordered.

Riot shifted on his feet, looking like he might argue before eventually nodding and stalking
from the room. Shouto turned to Eraserhead.

"Still no ideas, right?"

Eraserhead shook his head. Shouto sighed.

"Damn."

"We'll think of something," Creati assured the room.

Eraserhead hoped she was right.

…..

Heroes weren't heroes anymore. Not really.

Dabi believed this. He'd heard Stain's words and knew them from his own heart. He'd come
from the shadows, finally making his move, joining the League of Villains as a worthy cause.
Heroes were corrupt. They only cared about money and fame. No one cared about saving
people anymore, not really. Not the weak, not the young, not the innocent. Once that had
been him but not anymore. Not for a long time. Flames had made sure to burn out anything
innocent left in him.

But as he looked at the scene in front of him, he wondered if those burnt out ashes in him
might have been hiding one last piece of unburnt mercy.

Chained and muzzled like an animal, legs bound ankle to thigh and hands covered in thick
mittens that went to his forearms, Bakugou Katsuki was a pitiful sight.

Shigaraki watched the blond fume with a pleased smirk on his lips. The others milled around,
giggling and watching and chatting. Dabi stayed in the shadows, eyes heavy, breathing
forcibly slow.

He'd done this.

Bakugou Katsuki was a fighter, had always been. When he'd first taken him, Dabi had felt no
qualms. They'd been following Bakugou for years at that point, Bakugou was everything
wrong with hero society. He had graduated with a license and was going to be on the streets
with his volatile quirk and hateful words and all he cared about was winning, being number
one. Dabi hadn't regretted taking him, one less corrupt hero in the world.

But when All for One had taken the boy from Shigaraki, Dabi had never looked further into
it, even assumed he'd been killed. It hadn't weighed on him. But ever since the reveal of the
fighting rings and everything that had gone on behind the scenes, suddenly Dabi wasn't
feeling so sure-footed. Being killed was a mercy, a quick end. It sent a message. The fighting
rings, what had gone on...he doubted that he even knew the true extent of things, but he knew
it had been torture.

Bakugou was stronger than he'd given him credit for, if he'd survived it, if he'd been working
past it. But then Shigaraki had wanted him back and Dabi couldn't think of a reason to deny
him. Staring at this scene now, he wondered if he shouldn't have tried harder though.

Bakugou shook with rage. The chain connected to the thick collar around his neck held him
secured to the center of the room, unable to hide his nakedness, with only the ability to crawl
two feet in any direction. His muzzle kept his jaw locked around a short metal straw which he
could drink out of, but only if he lowered his head into the water bowl that had been on the
floor in front of him. Had been, because Bakugou had hit it the minute it'd been placed there,
spilling the water across the floor and Shigaraki's feet. If Himiko was here, Dabi had no
doubt she'd have tried to force dog ears onto the boy to complete the look. He was just glad
All for One's apparent penchant for rape hadn't trickled into Shigaraki's mind, at least not yet
it hadn't, because even he could see how this could escalate very badly and he didn't know
how he'd react.

Would he stay silent? Could he walk out, knowing that was happening, that it was because of
him? Bakugou had been captured not once, but twice, only because of his involvement. This
was his responsibility. He didn't deserve the right to walk away and ignore it.

Heroes might not be real heroes, but Dabi was beginning to think he might not be a great
villain, not if this is what it meant.
"You're going to learn to be a good dog," Shigaraki said, leaning down to grab the discarded
water bowl. He touched it with all five fingers, letting it decay in his hand as he stared at
Bakugou. "Because bad dogs don't get treats."

Bakugou's eyes spoke of flames, hot enough Dabi was almost surprised Shigaraki wasn't
scorched by them, left with scars like his own.

The rest of the League slowly lost their interest and everyone broke off to do their own thing
as Bakugou continued to only sit and silently rage, but Shigaraki remained in the chair,
watching him and idly listening to Kurogiri, so Dabi remained as well, leaning his back
against the wall and taking in what he'd done with a heavy heart, trying to find a way to
justify that which couldn't be justified.

…..

Later that night, Dabi woke up for a glass of water. He silently headed to the kitchen.

"Stay still, you fucking mutt!"

Dabi paused, sitting the glass down on the counter. He walked down the hall, heart
uncharacteristically pounding. Shigaraki had been relatively tame all evening, Dabi had no
reason to believe--

It wasn't Shigaraki, but it was what he'd thought, the two low ranked villains--one with his
dick out--made that clear. One held Bakugou's arms twisted behind his back while the one
with his dick out was trying to get him to open his thighs.

"Fucking open them or I'm pissing in your muzzle," the man growled angrily.

The other villain laughed, neither noticing Dabi in the doorway. "He hasn't had a drink all
day, since he refused our generous leader's water bowl. He'd probably appreciate that."

Bakugou snarled as much as he could behind the muzzle, thrashing even harder as the man
stood holding his dick towards him, and flames engulfed Dabi.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He demanded, startling both villains into
scattering away from Bakugou, turning fearful eyes onto him.

"Dabi, sir! We were just. Uh. Just, um." They looked at each other with fear and confusion.

"He's all chained up for us, right?" The one who'd been holding Bakugou finally spoke as the
other quickly put himself away and zipped up. "We just assumed he was for anyone to use,
yeah?"

Dabi growled. "Get the fuck out of my sight," he hissed, flames bright. They both scrambled
out of the room, not needing to be told twice.

Dabi looked to Bakugou, seeing the blond turn his burning glare onto him. He wasn't
grateful, and Dabi didn't expect him to be. Instead of speaking, Dabi doused his flames,
walking over to the couch in view of both the doorway and Bakugou and sitting heavily, head
dropping back to rest as he closed his eyes. He dozed, eyes open barely to slits so he could
see any shadows that entered the room. Eventually he heard Bakugou shift, curling up on the
floor with his limited range of movement to doze himself.

They both raised their heads when Magne came in early in the morning. She looked at Dabi
in surprise, raising a brow in question. She had a bowl of porridge in one hand, a bowl of
water in the other.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Dabi rasped, sitting up. He watched as she walked closer to Bakugou.

"That mask doesn't leave a lot of options, but I thought you might actually eat something if
no one was around to watch." She said almost kindly. Dabi honestly didn't know much about
Magne, didn't let himself get close to really any of the other villains, but he did wonder about
where this kindness came from. Bakugou seemed leery too, eyeing the bowls and her
mistrustfully.

"I know what it's like to be treated as less than human," Magne whispered. Dabi wondered if
maybe he wasn't supposed to hear that. She frowned, slowly setting the bowls on the ground
close enough Bakugou could reach them if he wanted. Then she stood and walked over to the
couch, sitting beside Dabi and looking at her phone. Bakugou glared at them both, his eyes
wary and angry, and Dabi met that glare with forced indifference before he too looked away.
It took a long silence before they heard Bakugou shuffling, the scrape of a bowl against the
ground. Dabi peeked from the corner of his eyes to see Bakugou cupping the water bowl in-
between his mitted hands, carefully sipping water through the short metal straw. He didn't
look grateful and Dabi didn't blame him.

"Less than human," Dabi murmured too low for Bakugou to hear. Beside him, Magne
hummed.

"You don't agree with it either, do you?"

"Heroes are a corruption," he recited. "Death is a mercy."

"This isn't death," Magne argued quietly. "And he never got to be a hero."

Dabi closed his eyes, feeling something he hadn't felt in a long time well, something rotten
and ugly that left an awful taste in his mouth. Shame.

"Something happened last night?"

"Almost," Dabi croaked.

"You going to watch him 24/7?"

"I need to go somewhere today," he announced on a sudden whim. He hadn't planned it,
hadn't thought about it, but now that he'd said it, he knew he had to.

Magne turned to him, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Dabi didn't shy from her gaze.
"Toga's been gone for a long time," she mentioned offhandedly.

"Probably got caught."

"Might be beneficial if one of our best at being inconspicuous went to confirm that though."
Magne's look was significant, heavy. Dabi nodded.

"Right. I was thinking that. I should go check. Make sure."

Magne nodded. "You should wait until I finish breakfast though. I want to grab a few things
and then I think I might like to stay in today. Perhaps even on this couch." She bounced once,
a sly grin teasing the corners of her mouth. "It's very comfy, isn't it?"

Dabi felt his neck ache, his limbs stiff from the night spent here. He nodded. "Yeah. It is."

She laughed, nodding along as she stood and headed for the door. "Give me fifteen minutes
before you leave."

"Thanks," he offered, surprised by the gesture.

"It's not for you," she said simply before disappearing down the hall.

Dabi looked down at his hands, swallowing the guilt and curling them into fists to hide the
trembling. He knew what he had to do, but that wasn't going to make it easy.

Bakugou eyed them both with hateful eyes that held nothing but spite, and Dabi didn't blame
him one bit.

…..

Dabi hadn't been in a hospital in ages. He forced down the memories of his last visit, head
ducking lower under the hood of his jacket as he walked down the halls, looking for the
familiar name that made his heart squeeze.

He slipped into the open doorway, clicking the door shut behind him.

"Hello?"

That voice. He clenched his eyes shut, hands curling tightly from his pockets. He stepped
around the corner, in her sight, but kept his head low.

"Hello?" She repeated. "Who are you?"

"I need you to give this to your son. Shouto," he said, putting a piece of paper on her table.
He turned to leave.

"Wait!" She called out, reaching for him and grabbing his arm, pulling his sleeve up just
enough to reveal his scarred wrist. She hissed and they both froze.
"Who are you?" She repeated, quieter. He was breathing loudly, near panic. "Show me your
face if you want me to give this to Shouto."

Dabi hunched his shoulders lower. He'd tried. He could walk out. She probably would tell
Shouto anyways. He didn't have to do this.

"Please."

Dabi's chest ached and he slowly turned towards her, lifting his head up enough to meet her
eyes. Her hand covered her gasp and tears tracked down her face silently.

"Touya," Todoroki Rei gasped.

"Not anymore," Dabi shook his head sadly, turning away and leaving the room, ignoring her
cries for him to come back.

…..

"Shouto?"

Todoroki stood in the hallway of his father's agency, having stepped out of the room where
the other heroes were discussing possible ideas on how to continue looking for Bakugou
without any leads. Toga still wasn't talking and it had now been almost three days since the
failed rescue. Truly, he could've been taken anywhere.

"Mom? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I. I think so," she sniffled and he frowned. She'd obviously been crying.

"Do you need me to come visit?"

"No, no, but this is important. Someone...did come to see me. They left me a note for you."

Todoroki stiffened. "They left you a note for me?" He echoed, fear making his heart pound.
"Did they hurt you? Touch you in any way? I'll be right there, mom, I promise, I'll--"

"Shouto, I'm fine. They didn't touch me. They just said you needed this message. This is
more important than me right now," she cut him off. She inhaled shakily.

"...what was the message?"

"It says 'He's here. Make sure to hurry. He doesn't have long.' And then there's an address."

Todoroki felt ice in his veins. He whirled around, slamming the door to the meeting open and
instantly gaining everyone's attention.

"We have Bakugou's location," he announced. He held his phone back to his mouth. "Mom,
I'm going to need that address."
Chapter End Notes

CHAPTER WARNINGS: claustrophobia, isolation, muzzles, degradation, excrement

mention from neglect, dehumanization, chains, implied and attempted rape, violence,
references to child abuse, attempted non-con watersports, brief needle mention (IV)

(please let me know if you see something else that needs to be tagged!)

I do want to give a gentle reminder regarding the 'slow to update' and 'angst with a
happy ending' tags. This fic takes a lot out of me regarding writing and editing and
researching, so that's why updates are so slow, but I intend to finish! Also I intend for it
to end on a happy note! A few of you had some concerns so I just wanted to try and
answer those :)

(Edit: have I mentioned how much I hate that Shouto doesn't have a hero name and I'm
uncreative in that regard? Cause that's true, btw)

Again, I hope none of the villains came off too OOC, but unfortunately I'm not super
familiar with them. I'd love to hear what you all think about this direction! Sorry again
about two cliffhangers in a row!

Hope everyone is staying safe! <3

 Chapter 9
Chapter Notes

Hope it was worth the wait! No cliffhangers this time!

As always, CHAPTER WARNINGS IN END NOTES

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Bakugou scratched at the latch of one of the mittens covering his palms subtly, rubbing it
against the floor and testing. It didn't budge. The straps keeping his ankles pinned to his
thighs were tight, too tight really, but they were secured with locks he could see would not be
easy to break, not with the rest of him just as trussed up. He fought the urge to hang his head
in defeat, instead watching the villains milling around the room with narrow eyes.

He couldn't believe that bitch Himiko. When she'd showed up and started slashing him, he'd
been focused so much on staying conscious it hadn't even occurred to him what her quirk
was. The next minute a naked clone of himself had been standing before him with a fanatic
grin, holding up a small black box with a blinking light.

'They put a tracker on our Nomu, Baku-chan. They're going to try and save you. But you're
going to watch them walk right past you.' She giggled, a disturbing sound coming from his
lips, and Bakugou snarled at her.

'You won't fool anyone,' he snapped. 'No one will believe you're me.'

She shrugged. 'Doesn't have to be for long, does it? Just for long enough for the others to
move you somewhere else. Then the heroes will never find you again.'

Bakugou felt ice in his veins. They couldn't do that, could they?

Himiko cackled, knocking on the wall three times. He heard the crackle of an old television
just before it kicked on, a section of the wall in front of him lifting to reveal a screen showing
what he assumed was the hallway outside his cell.

'So you can see the show,' she cooed, reaching out and brushing her hand through his hair.
He tried to shake her off but she just hugged his head tightly, forcing him to look at the screen
as she lowered her lips to his ear. 'This room's door can't be seen from the outside when it's
sealed. You're going to watch them sweep in here all heroically and save the wrong person.
You're ours to do whatever we want to do with, our little toy, our Baku-chan, and no hero is
going to change that.'

Bakugou swallowed, mouth dry, and he tried to ignore the creeping dread as she laughed,
prancing from the room. Everything went dark except for the TV and Bakugou watched the
door to his cell seal to the wall, looking seamless. His breath hitched.

It felt like hours, maybe days before anything changed but Bakugou was terrified of letting
himself sleep, of missing his possible rescue. There was a distant crash just before he heard
the muffled sounds of fighting.

"Bakugou!"

Bakugou's breathing stuttered. Kirishima. He shook in the chair, chains rattling, and he tried
to stomp on the ground, any sounds he could make with his mouth muffled by the muzzle.

"Bakugou!"

Kirishima swept into frame in his hero costume, looking ferocious with his hardening rippled
across his skin. He tore into one of the doors on screen, knocking out the villains inside and
roaring in anger. Bakugou stomped and kicked and made as much noise as he could.
Kirishima had to hear him, had to find him, had to--

He ran past the door, shouting. Bakugou fought back the despair that crawled up his spine.
No. No no no, not Kirishima, not like this, he couldn't leave him here, he promised, he
promised, he--

Kirishima was back in frame, carrying a body. Bakugou felt sick seeing his clone--Himiko--
being held by the redhead so carefully, cloth covering him respectfully. Bakugou screamed in
his muzzle but Kirishima rushed right past.

That was it then. The villains had won. Bakugou choked back a sob. The stupid fuckers had
won.

He didn't pay attention to the rest and it wasn't long before he had another visitor.

'Time to go,' they said, just before a needle pricked his neck and Bakugou felt sleep
overtaking him.

He didn't fight it.

Now he sat in the middle of what appeared to be the main hangout room like he was some
kind of entertaining performer to be watched. Shigaraki hadn't made a move to touch him,
but Bakugou remembered the close call last night and he was pretty sure Shigaraki wouldn't
have stopped them either. No, instead Dabi had, which didn't make any sense to Bakugou. He
was the whole reason Bakugou had been captured, why would he care if he was raped?

Dabi had left earlier in the morning and Bakugou hadn't seen him since. The other villain
who'd brought him water was still there, Magne, sitting on the couch and mindlessly scrolling
through her phone. Bakugou didn't trust her either, all her talk about being treated as less than
human. She didn't have a clue what that meant.

Shigaraki didn't linger for the entire day as he had before, instead leaving around what was
probably early afternoon. The other villains, lower ranked he would assume, seemed anxious
with his absence, staring at him, then the doorway, and then each other. Anytime one of them
seemed to make up their mind to approach him, Magne would cough or hum loudly, earning
their attention. When she raised a brow, meeting the other villain's gaze over her glasses,
they'd fall back, retreating from Bakugou and sometimes even the room. Bakugou didn't
know what they were all playing at but he wasn't going to fall for it, Magne and Dabi
pretending to be his protectors or some shit.

As it became clear that it was nighttime and people were leaving to get settled in, Magne
lingered. Bakugou wasn't too surprised to see Dabi appear not long after.

"Did you do what you had to do?" Magne spoke, sounding serious.

Dabi hummed, eyes sweeping over the room before settling on Bakugou.

"Hope you don't make me regret this," he said lowly. Bakugou's brow furrowed in frustrated
confusion.

Magne smiled, standing and patting Dabi on the shoulder. "Guess I better get ready for a fight
then. How many of them do you think we'll be able to take down?"

"Who even knows how many will come?" Dabi drawled.

Magne laughed, heading down the hall. Dabi turned to take her seat on the couch, propping
his head up in his hand as he studied Bakugou. He glanced to the doorway. The entire
complex was quiet.

"I told the heroes your location."

Bakugou froze. He turned to glare at Dabi, eyes narrow with mistrust. He didn't have to be
able to speak to show his thoughts on that.

Dabi sighed. "Heroes are corrupt, and that hasn't changed. But this--" He gestured to
Bakugou, chained up like a dog, a sneer of disgust on his face. "I didn't sign up for this.
Killing sends a message but what's the point of all this torture? You were never even a hero,
really. I'm not here for petty revenge. If I was, you definitely wouldn't be my target." He
looked at Bakugou with an even gaze. "You make it out of this one, I'm not coming back for
you. You'll never see my face again."

A growl rumbled through Bakugou's chest and he strained against his bonds, furious. The
mitts kept his quirk from activating but he curled his fingers into fists and he could feel his
claws digging into his palms.

What was the point? What was the point? Dabi had the gall to ask him what was the point?
How dare he! Bakugou felt his fangs lengthen, digging into his own mouth thanks to the
muzzle. Were they all so blasé? Shigaraki had taken him on a petty whim? What the fuck?
They didn't even have a reason for taking him! Just days of pain and humiliation and
degradation and there wasn't even a fucking point to any of it. Dabi was just going to let him
go, like everything was all an accident, a misunderstanding.
Bakugou wanted to scream, to explode, to fight. At least All for One had had a purpose. A
sick and twisted and horrible one, but it gave his suffering meaning. He wasn't left with so
many questions. But this? This entire kidnapping was a joke, a charade, some overgrown
child throwing a tantrum because the heroes took his toy.

Bakugou Katsuki was not a fucking toy. He was not some helpless dame either. Fuck all of
them, he would claw his way out if he had to. He would become the best damn hero after
this. He would hunt every one of them down, he'd save every single person they'd ever made
feel like this. Who the fuck cared about Deku or nightmares or PSTD or whatever else was
keeping him from moving forward? He would beat all of it down, he would win, and damn
the entire League of Villains for trying to keep him from it.

Bakugou had never felt this level of rage, this complete hatred. Any problem he'd ever had
with Deku was minuscule compared to this; the nerd was nothing in the face of such pure
righteous fury. Bakugou shook in his chains, overwhelmed with emotion as he clawed and
scraped at the locks holding him. He wanted to tear into the villains, destroy them, show
them how great and strong he was. Fuck all of them, he would win, he would be better, he
would be the fucking best--

"What a look you have," Dabi murmured to himself, seeing the flames of hate in Bakugou's
eyes. "I wonder if All for One will win after all."

Bakugou froze, tense all over as he stared in disbelief at Dabi.

All for One winning? Absolutely not! Bakugou would not allow it, he would never do what
that villain had wanted. How dare Dabi even suggest it! Even the mere idea brought a new
wave of fury in him, but Bakugou quickly doused it in realization.

Fury. His anger. He'd wanted to tear into them, right? Destroy them? But how was that any
better than what had been done to him? Hadn't All for One's whole purpose been to break
him, turn him into something villainous? Cruel and murderous and raging? If he gave into
that anger, had he lost? Bakugou gulped, suddenly shaking for another reason. All for One
hadn't won, he wouldn't--couldn't-- allow it. If All for One won, then Bakugou could never
become a hero. Bakugou was just some rabid dog that needed to be put down.

Dabi studied him for a moment, humming. Then he turned and headed for the door.

"Hope the heroes come through for you," he offered in a mocking drawl.

Bakugou growled but couldn't help but relax a little at finally being alone.

"Thank god, I thought he'd never leave!"

Bakugou jumped, scanning the room but seeing no one. His brow furrowed.

"Sorry, I'm Invisible Girl, so you can't see me." The voice came from his right, but he really
couldn't make out anyone. "I'm going to touch your arm, okay?" Sure enough, he felt
something grab his arm. He tried to jerk away. "Hey, I'm a hero, okay? I promise! I just want
to see if I can get these chains off. I've radioed the others your location, the distraction attack
should happen any--"

There was a loud explosion.

"--moment," she finished without a hitch, gently taking his arm and studying the lock. "I
think I might be able to get these off, just one second."

He watched the lock and straps of the mitts move around without anything he could see
touching it. Villains ran down the hall past the door but none of them even glanced at him.
There were a few follow up explosions that seemed to be getting closer.

"Hey," Invisible Girl spoke, "you're going the wrong way, you need to lead the villains away
fr--" she huffed, startled. "So rude! He cut me off!"

Finally the lock broke open and Invisible Girl was able to pull one of the mitts off. Bakugou
immediately grabbed the lock of the other one, blasting it away and yanking off the other
mitt. Blood dripped from where his claws had pierced his palms earlier but he ignored it,
blasting away the straps on his legs before grabbing at the muzzle and collar.

"Hey, wait, that's metal! It won't explode away as easy as leather."

He glared at the closest he could assume she was, rumbling low in his chest as he tried to
maneuver out of the muzzle.

"Dammit, I need some help with these chains on him," she said, probably into her receiver.
"Well hurry! I don't know how long until--"

"Well well. What is this?"

Bakugou jerked his head up, glaring venomously at Shigaraki. He looked completely
unconcerned that the heroes had found his location, scratching at his neck idly.

"And how did you get free?"

Bakugou yanked on the chain, grabbing it around the middle and trying an explosion. It didn't
work. He blasted it again and again, the underused muscles in his forearms already starting to
cramp. He yanked harder as Shigaraki slowly stalked closer, a wide grin on his face as he
reached out.

"Those heroes are going to lose again. I'll make sure of it this time. You're no fun anymore
anyways, might as well put you out of your miser--"

There was a feminine shriek before Shigaraki fell back, staring at the blank space that had hit
him.

"Invisible Girl calling for backup!" She yelled. "Villains have engaged! Target still locked
down. Need immediate assistance!"
"Like I'll let you!" Shigaraki yelled, swiping at the air. He kept edging closer to Bakugou,
grasping wildly.

"Shigaraki."

Bakugou's eyes widened as he recognized Kurogiri, gearing up an even larger blast against
the chains. They couldn't take him again, he wouldn't let them, he wouldn't survive, this
would never end, he would rather--

He reached for his own neck, eyes clenching shut as his palms warmed.

"No!"

"Don't you dare!"

"Arrhhhhhh!"

They all startled when something came crashing through the wall, tearing through the
concrete and metal. Bakugou stared in disbelief, spiked red hair hardened along with his
teeth, face, and every inch of him. His fists thunked over his chest before he clawed his way
into the room forcibly, throwing debris aside like they were matchsticks. He was a monster
and the best damn thing Bakugou had ever seen.

"Red Riot!" Invisible Girl cried out from...somewhere. "I can't break his chains!"

Kirishima glanced away from the villains to focus on Bakugou, red eyes intense from battle
and the heaviest thing Bakugou had ever felt.

"You're too late!" Shigaraki yelled, cutting Kirishima off when he tried to make a run for
Bakugou and holding his hands out in warning. "I'll crush you!"

"Oh no, you don't," Kurogiri intoned, a warp tunnel appearing around Shigaraki. There was a
yelp, a hopped misstep, and the warp tunnel wavered as something fell through. Kurogiri
closed it. "Now that that fly is tucked out of the way," he said, hands folded primly as he
started to walk closer to Bakugou.

Bakugou snarled behind his muzzle, fangs cutting himself and all he tasted was iron. He
didn't have time for memories though, shoving away from the villain and frantically yanking
at the chain. He looked to Kirishima, desperate, and the hero's eyes narrowed.

"You're not taking him," he declared icily before rushing Shigaraki, ducking under his grasp
before shoving him away to dash past him. Shigaraki yelled out to Kurogiri, who created a
warp gate in front of Kirishima, but the hero pulled himself to a stop before his momentum
brought him through, instead digging his clawed hands into the wooden floor and tearing up a
plank which he threw at Kurogiri. The warp disappeared with the user's distraction and
Kirishima slid into Bakugou's space, tearing the chain from the floor before grabbing the
back of the muzzle and ripping it with his hardened fingers. Bakugou threw the muzzle away,
spitting out a mouthful of blood before smiling wickedly, standing on his own feet. He
wavered a little, weak and stiff, but he refused to fall.
"I'll crush you. I'll crush you all!" Shigaraki yelled, hands scratching wildly at his own skin.
Bakugou crouched, snarling aggressively.

"Fucking try me."

Flames suddenly scorched down the hall, lighting up the doorway, and as the villains turned
in surprise, Kirishima gripped Bakugou's arm, gesturing for the hole he'd made in the wall.
With shaky legs and already exhausted arms, Bakugou silently agreed with the retreat,
leaping over the scattered remains of the wall. Kirishima was right behind him, directing him
into another hall and where to go.

"Here," Kirishima said once they'd covered a little distance. He took off the covering around
his hips, handing Bakugou something to hide his nakedness. Bakugou tied it around his own
hips, frowning.

"Don't know what these fuckers' obsession with having me naked is," he muttered.

"Never again," Kirishima said, and Bakugou looked up to see his face a little softened from
the monstrous form he'd had earlier, though his eyes were no less hard. "I swear it."

Bakugou swallowed, nodding. This wasn't just Kirishima: this was Red Riot. He'd never seen
the redhead so serious, so powerful looking, not even a hint of a smile to be found. Kirishima
wasn't just being grave, he was furious, Bakugou could tell. Waves of aggression came from
his aura and, if he were an Alpha, Bakugou was sure the entire hallway would've been
saturated with his warning scent.

"Let's just get out of here," Bakugou finally said.

Kirishima nodded. "This way."

Kirishima seemed to be taking him away from the fighting and for that Bakugou was silently
grateful. Everything was catching up to him and he was finding himself exhausted.

"Perhaps you should stop running! No, wait, I'll make you stop running! Please? Fuck you!
I'd like you to wait! I'm going to kill you!"

Bakugou leapt back as a villain in black made a swipe for him. The villain looked up, face
mostly covered in a black mask.

Twice.

"You fucker," Bakugou hissed.

"Bakugou, let me handle it," Kirishima ordered, standing in front of him. Bakugou bristled,
even if he knew there was no way he had the energy or power to beat Twice.

"Oi, I'm not some--"

"Please," Kirishima murmured quietly, glancing over his shoulder. "Please, just stay safe,
okay?"
Bakugou froze and it was long enough for Kirishima to engage, punching at Twice. Twice's
figure blurred until there were two of him, then four, all of them attacking Kirishima.
Bakugou grit his teeth, palms heating. He could do this much. Just one attack. Twice's
doubles weren't as strong as the villain himself. He had to do this much to help, Kirishima
wouldn't last four-on-one.

Bakugou leapt in front of two of the Twices that had circled the hero, palms facing out. His
back hit Kirishima's and he braced himself against him, letting loose the biggest explosion he
could manage. Both copies dissolved into dirt and Twice howled from behind him, clutching
at his head. Bakugou covered Kirishima, twisting and exploding the final copy as the hero
rushed forward at the original Twice.

"Red Gauntlet!" Kirishima shouted, slamming his hardened fist into Twice's stomach. The
villain flew back into the wall, eyes rolling back in his head, knocked unconscious. Or maybe
even dead, Bakugou didn't care to check.

"Come on!"

Bakugou ran after Kirishima, panting harshly as his forearms quivered from overuse. His
palms ached and were splattered with blood. His legs trembled from so much movement after
days of being chained. He reached out, grabbing onto Kirishima just before he collapsed with
a short cry of pain.

"Shit." Kirishima whirled around, sweeping Bakugou up and carrying on. Bakugou groaned,
barely able to catch his breath even now.

"Fuck," Bakugou cursed, vision going black around the edges. He choked on iron, turning his
head to spit it on the floor as it blurred past. His head swam, dizziness and nausea welling.

"I've got you. It's going to be okay," Kirishima promised him. He sounded like he was
underwater. "I promise, Katsuki. I'm never letting you go."

I've got you, Katsuki.

I've got you.

Katsuki…

Katsuki…

Katsuki.

…..

Dabi had only just gotten to the end of the hall when the heroes attacked, the initial explosion
coming from the end of their hideaway.

He rolled his shoulders, blue flames licking at his fingers as the start of a feral grin crept onto
his face.
Showtime.

Maybe he has given their location away, maybe it was an effort to give Bakugou a second
chance at freedom, but at the end of the day, it had been the perfect lure for the heroes to
come to them and Dabi was looking forward to seeing how many he could take down.

The first few heroes he encountered were small fry, easy fodder for him to brush away with
scorch burns nearing the fourth degree. He didn't bother wasting time finishing them off
though, keeping moving, knowing that the heroes would've sent bigger names on this
mission. Truth was, no one really cared how many weaklings he killed. He had to find a name
worth taking, someone the public revered, someone whose death would send a message.

He hadn't been looking for him, but suddenly his flames were intercepted by another's, the
red burning as hot as his own blue.

His breath caught and he leapt back, fighting to hide his surprise. He locked his knees as he
met familiar blue eyes, just as hard as the last time he'd stood over him, his body freshly
scorched beyond repair from his own flames being too much for his too young body.

'So disappointing. A failure.'

Dabi narrowed his eyes to hide his surprise, flames curling around him. There wasn't a single
spark of recognition in Endeavor's eyes.

"I'm not here for petty revenge. If I was, you definitely wouldn't be my target."

He'd just said that to Bakugou, and he meant it. He wasn't looking for revenge, not exactly,
not the way Shigaraki might. But there was definitely an allure to it, the idea of making
Endeavor reap what he had sowed, of showing him the strength he'd cultivated from years of
harsh training and cruel abuse to his own body. His joints aches, his flesh stung, and all he
wanted in that moment was to burn them both to ashes.

"Endeavor," he said, and like a flip of a switch, memories rushed him.

"Touya! Touya! Look!"

A five year old Fuyumi smiled brightly up at him, holding out her palms where small, delicate
snowflakes sprinkled.

"Your quick came in!" Touya smiled, excited for her. He leaned down, taking her hands to
hold them facing up. "And look at those snowflakes! So many! You're going to make a
blizzard!"

Fuyumi giggled. "No! Snow angels!" She argued.

He nodded briskly. "Oh, of course, of course, my bad," he corrected seriously.

"Tch."
Touya stiffened and Fuyumi froze, both glancing up to see Enji scowling darkly at Fuyumi.
She shuffled closer to Touya, making herself small, and Touya glared at him, wrapping an
arm around her.

"What?" He snapped at their father. Enji tsked again, turning away from them.

"Another failure," he growled, loud enough for them both to hear. Fuyumi let out a quiet
whine only Touya could hear and he held his sister closer. "Training room in ten minutes,
Touya."

Touya's lip curled in disgust as Enji turned the corner. He looked to Fuyumi who had tears in
her eyes.

"I thought it was pretty," she whispered, curling her hands close to her chest. "Am I bad? Did
I do wrong?"

"No," Touya said seriously, turning her to him. "You're perfect, Fuyumi, just like you are.
Don't ever listen to him, you hear me?"

"But daddy--"

"He doesn't deserve that," Touya said lowly, darkly. "Call him father if you must, but he isn't
a dad. Not a real one."

She gasped, hand covering her mouth as she stared up at him. "Touya, that's not nice."

He pecked the top of her head, already looking down the hall where he'd disappeared. "Go
find mom."

"Touya?"

He stood and walked away, a lamb to the slaughter, but he had Fuyumi and baby Natsuo
behind him, and he would shield them from Endeavor's flames as long as his body would
allow it.

"Villain!" Endeavor snarled, and flames burst from him which Dabi barely leapt back in time
to avoid.

Ultimately, Dabi had failed in a lot in his life. Meeting Endeavor's expectations was the least
of them.

Not protecting Shouto more. Running away from his pain and abandoning his siblings and
mother. Not helping his mother get out of her loveless marriage once he understood it for
what it was. Letting Endeavor get away with hiding his abuse from the public eye, allowing
his farce of a happy family to continue. These were the things he truly regretted.

Am I bad? Did I do wrong?

He'd asked himself that for years, decades, long before Fuyumi had asked him the same
thing. Surely he had to have done something wrong, been born wrong, for Endeavor to treat
him like trash to be thrown away.

But no. It wasn't him. It was all Endeavor.

He shot a punch of blue flame at the fire hero, fury a cold storm in his heart. His body had
not been made for such heat, he had a quirk he was not meant for, but even as his skin
cracked and peeled he reached even higher, burned even hotter.

"Cremate," he murmured, eyes heavy as Endeavor met him flame for flame, the walls around
them erupting like kindling as fire scorched all around them.

Dabi wasn't petty and he wasn't a hero. This wasn't about revenge.

But the ice in his heart had been frozen over layer by layer and no flames, no matter how hot,
would ever make him thaw.

…..

Bakugou woke up in a haze, blinking up at the dim lights with a weak scowl. His hands
twitched and he realized one was being held. He looked down to see red, Kirishima jerking
up to stare at him in surprise.

"Bakugou!" He yelled, and Bakugou flinched at his volume, a low groan coming from him as
his head throbbed. Kirishima winced, instantly turning to grab him a glass of water from the
side table. "Sorry," he murmured more quietly, leaning forward to help Bakugou sip at the
glass. Bakugou felt weak, shaky, and he groaned again.

"You've been asleep for four days," Kirishima told him lowly, setting the water aside and
brushing his hand down the hospital bed's sheets nervously.

Bakugou closed his eyes. Right.

He looked back at the hero at his side. Kirishima was clutching at his hand almost
desperately with both hands, slumped small in the chair, like he was trying to hide.

"You saved me," Bakugou murmured. Kirishima shook under his gaze.

"Bakugou," he rasped. "I'm so--"

Bakugou scoffed, cutting him off by flicking his ear. Kirishima sputtered, looking up at him
in disbelief.

"If you apologize, I'm exploding your face," Bakugou glowered. "You didn't do shit to
apologize for. You saved me, you fucker."

"But if I'd been faster, or stronger, then you wouldn't have been taken in the first place,"
Kirishima argued, tears in his eyes. "Or if I'd been fucking smarter, I would have saved you
correctly the first time. God, if we hadn't gotten your location, I--" Kirishima choked up, eyes
clenching shut as he dropped his forehead onto the back of Bakugou's hand that he was still
holding.
Bakugou watched him for a long moment, silent, contemplative. Then he worked up a huff
and rolled his eyes "Quit being melodramatic."

"Bakugou, I'm trying to--"

"Come here."

Kirishima shut up, mouth closing audibly. Bakugou shifted a bit more to one side, raising a
brow. Kirishima bit his lip with indecision, glancing back at the door. Then he slowly crawled
into the space Bakugou had made for him, feet hanging off the side. Bakugou pressed against
him once he was settled, nosing under his chin and up his neck, breathing in from his scent
glands his simple Beta scent while rubbing his own scent against the redhead on return.

"You saved me," Bakugou repeated in a low murmur. "Like I'm going to be angry with you.
Idiot."

Kirishima wrapped an arm around him, finally, and pulled him closer. Bakugou hummed.

Nothing was alright. He felt like he had been forcibly dragged back to the starting line, like
he'd been just about to win when he'd drawn a 'Go to Jail' card. His entire body ached, he
didn't want to know what was under half the bandages covering him, and he felt like he
couldn't quit shaking, haunted memories assaulting him from every corner as he was finally
given a moment to process and think.

But Kirishima was here, and for now, that would just have to be enough.

"Don't," he rasped out against the other's skin, eyes clenched shut. "Don't leave."

"Never," Kirishima vowed quietly, holding him tighter. "I promise. I'm here."

Bakugou scented him, exhaling with relief when the other finally smelled right, smelled like
his again. He held onto his waist, hand curling into his shirt.

They inhaled together. And then they both slipped into a light doze, clutching to the other and
too high strung to fully rest.

…..

Dr. Karusaki was not a man easily led to believe in things such as luck or curses, but he had
to wonder if perhaps his patient hadn't been given the evil eye as a child or something to
explain the number of horrible events that had avalanched on top of Bakugou Katsuki.

"I saw the news story. Do you want to talk about it?" It was best to let Bakugou know ahead
of time that he had the basics, so he wouldn't have to explain everything if he wanted to talk.
If he didn't, they could just sit quietly too. That had happened a time or two. Sometimes
Bakugou seemed to just need to decompress.

Bakugou opened his mouth, then frowned and closed it again. That was odd. Dr. Karusaki
made an idle mark on his notepad. Bakugou had never hesitated to speak his mind before.
"I don't really know what it means."

Dr. Karusaki frowned. "What it means?" He echoed.

"Yeah, the kidnapping. Like, before it made sense, sort of. All for One wanted to own me,
steal my quirk or some shit. But this was practically tame. Like, I get Shigaraki isn't the
brains of the operation, but they literally just chained me up and left me there. What was the
point? Just to prove they could? That's stupid. Half of them are in jail now, for nothing."
Bakugou looked down at his hands in thought. "Had to be a reason, right? Something they
wanted that I'm not getting. I hate not knowing."

"Did you think perhaps they just wanted to try and show up the heroes who captured All for
One?"

Bakugou grunted, which was an acknowledgment and nothing more. He thought on that in
silence and the doctor turned to his notes, not wanting the other to feel like he was under a
microscope.

"Maybe," Bakugou finally relented, "but if that was the case, why not kill me?"

Before Dr. Karusaki could respond, he continued.

"I don't...I don't think I really want to die anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm an idiot. I
should've died a hundred times over already. And there's no way I'm just lucky, that's
definitely bullshit. But it doesn't make sense that I'm still breathing, right? All for One fucked
me up, the ring fucked me up, now this thing fucked me up. I'm pretty fucked up now, and
what? It's for nothing? It's got to be for something."

The doctor hummed. Hearing Bakugou search for meaning in it all had to be one of the first
normal reactions to trauma the blond had embraced yet.

"It's hard to know the meaning of why bad things happen. That's why some people turn to a
religion or charity work or any number of things, not all of them good. I'm afraid I don't have
an answer for you."

Bakugou frowned, poking at a hole in his pants.

"But you said you didn't want to die anymore. Last time you said you didn't think you cared
one way or another, but that you didn't feel the need to act violently towards yourself. What's
changed?"

Bakugou bit his lip, brow furrowing. "I want to be a hero."

Dr. Karusaki raised a brow. It wasn't the first time the blond had shared such a sentiment.
Bakugou looked up, red eyes blazing as he met the doctor's evenly and with an intensity
beyond just a casual conversation.

"Not to win," he continued lowly, "and not to be the best, even though I will be. I want to be a
hero because everyone told me I wouldn't be, because all those villains think they can stop
me. They tortured me, they chained me up like a dog, and they forced me to do things I don't
even like to think about. And they did it to others too, and that pisses me off. I made it
through that bullshit because I'm fucking strong, but I…" Bakugou visibly shook, clenching
his fists before exhaling slowly. "I killed innocent people to be here. Those people are not
here because of me. I don't even know how many, I can't even--" He cut himself off, biting his
cheek and taking a few deep breaths. He looked down at his hands, visibly furious. "I will be
a hero to make those lives mean something, even if none of that other bullshit does. All for
One wanted them to be pawns, to be a tool to break me, but I'm going to make them
important. Everyone I save will be because of them. Maybe I don't know their names or how
many, but they mattered, dammit, people aren't just fucking toys, and All for One and fucking
Shigaraki don't get to--They don't get to--"

Bakugou breath hitched and he clutched at his chest. "Dammit," he hissed. "Fuck this shit,"
he muttered, grabbing a handful of tissues to wipe at his face roughly.

"I told you, a while back, about how I told Deku to jump off a roof," he started again after
calming down.

"Yes," Dr. Karusaki nodded.

"I didn't know shit. I was a snot-nosed spoiled brat who thought I understood the world. But
quirk or no quirk or whatever, I don't-- no one has the right to claim who lives or dies or does
what. I'm not a villain, dammit." Bakugou huffed, wiping at his eyes again as he sniffled. "If
none of it has a meaning, then I'll give it that one. I'll be the best damn hero out there all
because of what All for One did. He can rot in a cell next to Shigaraki and watch me win on
TV. Fucking Plus Ultra!" Bakugou finished with a snarl, fury barely contained within
popping fists. Dr. Karusaki raised his brows, honestly a little impressed by his determination.

"I think that's a good way to look at things," he agreed, setting his notebook aside. He smiled
kindly. "I believe you've got a long road ahead of you, Bakugou, but I have no doubt that
you're going to do great things."

Bakugou stood, rolling his shoulders and shrugging off the praise even if Dr. Karusaki could
see the way he smiled a little at his comment. The doctor stood as well to walk him out.

"Fucking obviously," Bakugou said, opening the door to his office. Kirishima looked up from
his phone where he was sitting in the waiting room, smiling immediately at the sight of
Bakugou. "And Red Riot's going to be at my side. Right?"

Kirishima didn't even hesitate or ask what they were talking about. "Yeah!" He agreed
exuberantly, making the doctor chuckle. These two.

"See you next week, doc," Bakugou offered over his shoulder, already stepping away to take
Kirishima's hand. Kirishima waved goodbye to him and his staff, which was returned, before
they disappeared out the door.

Dr. Karusaki was not a man easily led to believe in things such as fate or luck--even if he had
one patient in particular that probably could've made him believe in curses if he told him he'd
been hit with the evil eye as a child or something--but perhaps, with the right evidence, such
 as a pair of people who just seemed to be exactly what the other needed precisely when they
needed it...perhaps he could put some stock in the idea of soulmates, platonic or otherwise.

Chapter End Notes

CHAPTER WARNINGS: restraints, dehumanization, muzzles, degradation, collars,

chains, mentioned/discussed attempted rape, mentioned suicide attempt/ideation,
injuries/blood, murder discussion/mention, references to child abuse, burn mention, self-
harm mention (through fighting recklessly)

(please let me know if you see something else that needs to be tagged!)

Believe it or not, but I think there will only be one chapter in this! I have no idea how it
got to be this long, but things are wrapping up.

I'd love to hear what you all think of this one! And please let me know of any questions
you still have and I'll try to answer them all with extra scenes in the final chapter. Stay
safe, everyone!
 Chapter 10
Chapter Notes

It's the final chapter! Woo, this one was somehow tougher to finish up than any of the
others.

There's not really a ton of warnings applicable to this one, but I'll still include the few in
the end notes.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Bakugou pressed close to Kirishima on the hospital bed, feeling the other's even breathing
but not yet succumbing to sleep himself. Instead he lay there in thought.

There was so much he still needed to do. He had to get out of this hospital. He had to get
stronger. He had to learn to fight without losing it again. He was strong, he knew he could.
His hand curled in Kirishima's shirt and he couldn't help but scent him a little.

Kirishima said they were friends, that Bakugou wasn't just a job. That meant he'd still be
around, right? He'd still want to hang out sometimes, talk, touch. Bakugou felt a growl
rumble in his throat. Kirishima was his, dammit, he wasn't losing him.

Kirishima hummed in his sleep, warm hand rubbing up and down Bakugou's back in an
instinctual response to the blond's growl. Bakugou couldn't help but smirk. Beta or not,
Kirishima had claimed him just as thoroughly as Bakugou had him; there was no way the
redhead would just disappear from his life.

Bakugou shut his eyes, pushing away the visions the darkness brought with a deep inhale of
the Beta's clean scent.

Tomorrow was a new day, and he was fucking claiming it now.

…..

The next morning, Bakugou heard a ruckus down the hall. He frowned when it didn’t
immediately get taken care of and actually went to the effort of sticking his head out of the
door with a scowl.

He wished he could say he was surprised. He sighed, walking down the hall to where his
mother was now yelling at a security guard.

“My son was taken again while in your care! I have to see him! Is he okay? What happened?
I want answers!”
“Hag,” Bakugou called out.

She instantly whirled on him, eyes wide with fear and anger before she visibly calmed at the
sight of him. She stalked forward and Bakugou tried to keep from posturing, gritting his
teeth, expecting a slap or a hit or something because he was weak enough to get captured
again--

He startled as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and burying her face in
his shoulder. She must’ve been wearing scent blockers still because he wasn’t immediately
assaulted with the scent of an upset Alpha. She inhaled shakily, hands trembling where she
held him. Bakugou could see his dad over her shoulder, quietly calming the security guard
and nurses, always the mediator.

“You’re safe. Thank god. I couldn’t lose you again. Especially after how we left things last
time.”

She pulled back and Bakugou was surprised to see actual wetness shining in her eyes. She
lifted her hands to cup his face, even though he was a few inches taller than her now. He
hadn’t realized that before; his mother had such a large presence, it was crazy to think he’d
outgrown her while being captive.

“I’m sorry,” she said seriously. Bakugou gaped, eyes widening. “I’ve never been great at
being there for you. We fight like cats and dogs on a good day. But after what happened…”
She paused, visibly exhaling as she collected herself. “Katsuki, everything was so empty for
so long.” She was fighting off visible tears; Bakugou couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “I
was scared,” she admitted quietly. “I was so scared that you wouldn’t ever be found, and then
when you were, I was so scared you wouldn’t ever be the same.” She moved her hands to
hold onto his shoulders. “I didn’t want you to give up. I didn’t want you to feel like you were
broken. Because you’re not; you’re the strongest, the best kid I could’ve asked for.”

“I’m not broken,” Bakugou denied automatically, still staring at her with widened eyes.

“I know,” she agreed wetly. “No one could ever break my boy.” Bakugou sucked in a breath,
feeling his own eyes burn now. “I love you, Katsuki, and I know I am absolute shit at
showing it, I know I've made so many mistakes, but I promise I’ll be better. You deserve
better. I’m so proud of you. Gods, I’m so glad you’re safe.” She pulled him into another hug
and this time Bakugou returned it in a daze, arms encircling her almost on autopilot. "I don't
care if you're asexual. You're right, it doesn't mean you're broken. If you say it's just a word
for something you've always felt, then I believe you. I'm so sorry for how I reacted when you
shared it with us. I was too pig-headed, thinking that I knew what was best to help you, and I
hurt you."

“Katsuki,” his dad said, finally having convinced the nurses to let them stay. He joined in on
the hug, smiling with wet eyes. “We were so worried when we heard the news.”

"Dad," Bakugou rasped, suddenly feeling a lot of emotions, too many to decipher how he felt.
His relationship with his parents had always been complicated at best, he definitely wouldn't
call them the healthiest family or most loving in general, but he had never heard his mom
break down like this. She'd never really apologized or admitted to being scared. Bakugou
wasn't even sure if he could remember her ever saying she was proud of him or anything
positive without taking it back with some kind of snide comment, at the very least she hadn’t
since his quirk came in.

"We're so relieved you're safe," his dad murmured, losing some of the tension as he hugged
him.

"Bakugou?"

He looked up over his mom's shoulder, seeing Kirishima walking in. He seemed a little wary,
his eyes asking if everything was okay.

"Kirishima." His mom tensed in his arms, pulling away so her back wouldn't be to the other.
She sniffled, wiping her face off quickly before giving Kirishima a stern look. The hero didn't
falter, eyes watching her like a hawk as she stepped up to him.

And then she bowed.

Bakugou's jaw actually dropped and Kirishima's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Thank you, Red Riot."

She straightened, meeting his flabbergasted gaze and offering a tentative smile. "My son
unfortunately got his stubbornness and temper for me, which means I'm just as awful at
communicating. But thank you for taking care of him. I was in the wrong last time I was here
and I appreciate you deescalating the situation as best as you could."

"Of course," Kirishima said, glancing at Bakugou and looking like he didn't know what else
to say. "Bakugou means a lot to me," he added clumsily, not quite able to keep the blush off
his face.

She smirked. "I can tell."

Kirishima's face burned . Bakugou felt his own face warming and he tried to fight it down;
he’d always blushed so obviously, even his ears turning red. His dad bumped against his arm,
sending him a knowing look. All his practice at mediating meant he was the best at reading
both of the Bakugou Alphas. Bakugou scowled.

“So I, uh, was coming to see if Bakugou wanted to grab dinner. But maybe we all could go?”
Kirishima’s voice wavered at the end, silently asking Bakugou if that was okay.

“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed, nodding as his mom met his gaze. “I probably should tell you my
plan anyways,” he added, smirking.

His mom laughed, wiping at her eyes. Her smile seemed relieved. “Already got a plan to the
top?”

“Obviously.”

“Then we’ll be glad to hear it. And support you,” his dad said warmly.
It felt...different. Softer. Bakugou wasn’t really sure if this was a change that would stick
around or if him and his mother would devolve to screaming and cursing within the next
hour. But after listening to his mom’s apology, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he
wasn’t the only one changed because of all that had happened to him. He had his own
problems, of course, but his parents had lived for four years not knowing if their only son
was alive, no leads or any progress, and then he was saved out of the blue only for them to
find out he’d lived through literal torture. He...could understand, how that might make a
parent scared, worn thin, anxious, and a lot of other things.

“Thanks,” he offered, instead of an argument. He nodded to his mom, seeing her tense
shoulders relax just a bit. Maybe they could do this; maybe they could work on this
supportive, caring family thing. After everything, it seemed like his mother was willing to at
least try.

Bakugou would be willing to too.

…..

Bakugou decided Kirishima's agency would be the best place for the conversation that
needed to happen, if he was allowed to use it. Kirishima--and all the others--fully supported
him, so he made the call.

Midoriya smiled friendly at the receptionist when he walked in, her eyes widening at seeing
Hero Deku.

"Uh, hi. I'm supposed to be meeting someone here? He said in the gym?"

"Oh, yes, Bakugou, right. The gym is just down the hall."

He nodded. "Thanks!"

Midoriya wasn’t really sure what to expect, easing through the door and seeing Bakugou idly
stretching his legs while sitting on the ground.

“Are we about to fight?” he asked carefully.

Bakugou scoffed. “No. Was just bored waiting. Needed to do something.” Midoriya hummed,
not convinced. He glanced around. They were alone. “Quit looking so nervous, Kirishima’s
in his office upstairs. I wanted to talk to you alone. About time we deal with this.”

“Okay,” Midoriya agreed hesitantly, moving to sit on the floor across from Bakugou.

“I don’t know why you hid your quirk from me all those years,” Bakugou started, clearly
annoyed, before he sighed. “But whatever, this isn’t about you. I was a total dick to you
growing up and had no right to be. We used to be friends. You deserved better than that.”

Midoriya’s eyes bugged and he swallowed to keep his jaw from dropping. “Wow. I...wow.”

“Just shut up, let me say this,” Bakugou snipped. He dragged a hand through his hair roughly.
“Being taken, doing what I did in order to live, that kind of stuff--” he cringed, slumping. “It
really puts things into perspective. When we were kids, I was being a little bitch about feeling
inferior to you and lashed out instead of trying to communicate. Then it just grew and got
worse. So. Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya murmured. “I already forgave you a long time ago.”

“Well, maybe I hadn’t,” Bakugou muttered. He looked away. “I thought about it alot, you
know,” he added quietly after a moment. “What I said to you. In middle school. About...the
roof.”

Midoriya winced. “I know you didn’t mean that.”

“I didn’t then but I...I thought about it a lot. I wondered, sometimes, if I would’ve been able
to do that, if I...if I had been able to get to…” He cut himself off, biting his tongue. Midoriya
felt his eyes burning as he shuffled a little closer.

“Kacchan, what you went through...I can’t begin to understand it. No one really can. But I
know you’re so unbelievably strong. I'm glad you didn't.”

Bakugou clenched his eyes shut, exhaling shakily. Midoriya frowned, biting his lip, before
hesitantly shuffling to sit at Bakugou's side instead of across from him. He held his gaze
forward, not looking at the blond, but he gently tapped his elbow against his. Bakugou let the
contact stay for a moment, neither of them speaking. He refused to open his eyes.

"I'm glad you have Kirishima supporting you," Midoriya said after a long silence. "He's a
great hero and a great friend. And I...I know we've got our history, Kacchan, but I'll always
be on your side. As much as there were parts of you I hated growing up, I never doubted you
would be an amazing hero." He glanced over at him carefully. "You still shine just as brightly
as when we were kids, you know. Brighter, even. I hope you're not giving up."

Bakugou tsked. "As if I would ever give up. I'm going to surpass you, nerd, along with every
other hero. I’ll be even greater than All Might."

Midoriya smiled when Bakugou finally looked at him. Midoriya would always feel like steel
wool against his insides, like he was scrubbing away Bakugou's masks with only a look to
find his vulnerable pink insides, leaving him raw and unable to hide. The only difference was
that now he'd actually had himself turned inside out, he'd had someone stab and cut and claw
and dig into his weaknesses with a callousness neither of them would ever be capable of.
Suddenly Midoriya's eyes weren't so scary. How could he be a threat, when Bakugou had
already reached depths much lower than Midoriya could've ever pushed him.

Bakugou glanced down when Midoriya moved, staring at the other's offered fist. His eyes
flicked up to Midoriya's. Hesitantly, heart pounding, he lifted his own hand, fingers curling
into a loose fist that he bumped against the other's.

It wasn't words. He couldn't speak past the lump in his throat, wouldn't dare allow tears to
come in front of the other. But it was a promise all the same.

Midoriya's smile said he’d heard it.

…..

Bakugou stood at the subway platform, watching the incoming train. Around him,
businessmen, school children and their mothers, tourists, and all sorts of people rushed by. It
was rush hour.

The disorienting sounds and smells washed over him and Bakugou closed his eyes, trying to
exist only in the moment.

I'm not in the ring. I'm not in a cage. I'm in the subway. These are civilians .

When he opened his eyes, he saw a young girl, her face eerily familiar. He blinked and the
familiarity was gone. He shivered, thinking about a small Omega killed too soon. Killed by
his hands. He breathed.

A passing woman's Alpha scent burned his nose as she walked by, arguing loudly on her cell
phone. Bakugou's hands shook as he fought his body's reaction to a threat, claws wanting to
lengthen.

The phone in his hand buzzed. He looked at it to see the timer he'd set down to zero. Not
even a second later, he smelled a familiar presence nearing.

"Well?"

Bakugou turned to Kirishima. "Twenty minutes this time. I could last longer."

"No nausea? Or flashbacks?"

Bakugou shook his head. "I'm fine. I'm in control."

Kirishima smiled. "Do you want to head back?"

Bakugou shook his head again, taking Kirishima's hand and tugging him along. They slipped
into the crowd and Bakugou forced his breathing to stay calm. As everyone packed onto the
train, Bakugou stepped next to the window, Kirishima pressing close to his back. When the
doors closed, Bakugou had only a moment before they were moving. He made it through two
stops before he had to turn around and press closer to Kirishima, hiding his face against the
Beta's neck to breathe him in directly, trying to tune out the other overwhelming scents.

"Just a little longer," Kirishima soothed quietly, free hand wrapping around Bakugou.

Bakugou hummed; everything was too Ioud for them to have a real conversation.

They got off the train in three more stops, following the crowds up the stairs and out into
fresh air. Bakugou walked close to Kirishima's side, fingers intertwined and shoulders
brushing.

Progress. He was making progress.

…..
“It feels...weird.”

Dr. Karusaki hummed. “What does?”

“Just...everything,” Bakugou admitted. “Like a dream almost. Like it’s all too good to be
true. Like I’m just waiting for a villain to jump out and take me again. I mean, I’ve sort’ve
felt like that since the moment I was saved from the ring, but after actually being taken a
second time, it kind of…”

“Got worse?” Dr. Karusaki filled in when he didn’t continue.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Do you feel debilitated by it?”

“No, nothing like that. I just feel...I don’t know.” Bakugou leaned forward, elbows resting on
his knees as he frowned down at the coffee table. “Everything’s kind of falling into place and
it’s just so goddamn weird. I only have nightmares like twice a week. I haven’t had a panic
attack in almost two months. Kirishima and I are still training without quirks, but I’ve started
using my quirk just outside of a fight and I haven’t lost it? I just…” He looked down at his
hands, closing his fingers into fists. “Should I even want to use my quirk? The only reason I
survived is because it’s so destructive. I killed people with it and now that it actually feels
like I might be able to use it again as a hero, I guess I just…”

“It sounds like you may be feeling survivor’s guilt,” Dr. Karusaki said gently. “You know
none of what happened is your fault. It’s not a bad thing that you’re starting to heal.” He set
aside his notes, leaning forward. “Sometimes it’s almost easier for people recovering from
trauma when they can still feel the pain. You feel like it’s almost like recompense, like that is
your price to pay for being the one that lived. When you start feeling better, it feels like
you’re forgetting or like you don’t deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Bakugou rasped quietly, head low. “Do I deserve it? I wasn’t like those other random
people taken just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They picked me; they saw
something in me that made them think I’d make a good villain. Why should I be the one who
made it?”

“Bakugou, tell me: who was it responsible for the ring?”

He looked up, blinking. “All for One,” he answered, voice just a little strained around the
name.

“And who was responsible for taking those people?”

“The League of Villains, I guess.”

Dr. Karusaki met his eyes seriously. “Right. Those villains were the ones responsible. Not
you. And just because you lived doesn’t mean that you kept someone else from living. The
situation was horrible, it was truly evil what was done to you and to those other people, but
even if you had been removed from the situation, that evil would’ve still happened. Those
people would still be gone; it just would’ve been someone else in the ring with them and not
you. You did the best you could in the situation and no one, no one , would ever blame you.”

Bakugou sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “Still feels like it was my fault,” he whispered.

Dr. Karusaki offered a small, sad smile. “I know it does. It’s going to take time for it not to,
and some people never get it to go away completely. But you need to try to remind yourself,
every time that thought comes up, that none of it was your fault.” He leaned back in his chair.
“The most important thing is that you be kind to yourself.”

“Tough order, doc,” Bakugou muttered, sighing as he slumped.

Dr. Karusaki’s smile caught a bit of teasing. “Well, just treat yourself the way Kirishima
treats you.”

Bakugou seemed caught between laughing and groaning, covering his mouth from the
surprise. Eventually laughter won out. “I guess that’s a pretty good explanation of what you
mean,” he agreed, chuckling.

“Sometimes it helps people to have something to tell themselves, like a simple phrase or
sentence or two to repeat. Like a mantra,” he suggested.

“I might try that,” Bakugou relented, thoughtful.

“I know it doesn’t always feel like it, especially whenever you come across a set-back, but
you’re making a lot of progress,” Dr. Karusaki assured him. “You should be proud of how far
you’ve come.”

Pride was not something Bakugou had felt in a long time, not since All for One had
methodically squeezed out every single drop he’d had as a teen. It felt unfamiliar to even
think about having pride again, like trying to put on a coat that was two sizes too small.

“Baby steps,” Dr. Karusaki suggested, seeing his internal conflict.

Bakugou curled his fingers into fists, exhaling slowly. He nodded. This was part of moving
forward, of getting back on track to becoming a hero. No hero could win if they didn’t have
confidence in their own abilities, in their power to win and protect. He had to at least try

…..

Bakugou hesitated on the sidewalk, only about a block away from their destination.
Kirishima looked back at him, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“They probably think I’m psycho,” Bakugou denied, Alpha fang worrying his bottom lip as
he refused to meet Kirishima’s gaze. “I shouldn’t have come. They just want to see you;
they’re your friends. You don’t have to pity-invite me everywhere.”
“Bakugou, it’s not a pity invite. I want you here. They want you here. I know the last time
ended...not that well, but everyone’s been asking about how you’re doing.” He stepped
closer, reaching for his other hand and holding that one too. “If you really don’t want to, we
don’t have to go, but I promise no one is going to say anything bad. And you and Midoriya
had a good conversation just a couple weeks ago; you said you felt like you both had a little
bit of closure from it. Everything’s not going to instantly be perfect, but I think reaching out
to make more friends would be good for you.”

Bakugou frowned, hating that he felt the urge to run, to hide. Truth was he was ashamed
about how he’d reacted that night. He’d completely blown up at Midoriya the second the
other had walked in, basically ruining the whole night for everyone. And that wasn’t even
mentioning Kirishima having to take him to the hospital and everything else that came after.
Even if they were all heroes, they shouldn’t have had to deal with him going berserk on their
night off.

Bakugou swallowed around the lump in his throat. He wasn’t afraid , he was just...a
little...unsure. That was all. He didn’t know what he was walking into, even if Kirishima did
promise no one would say anything about it. He was pretty sure the only way that would
happen was if Kirishima had already talked to everyone and told them not to, but he didn’t
want to think about it too much or he may just explode himself out of embarrassment. Life or
death fights he could handle he guessed, but apparently unknown social interactions were
where he drew the line. Who would’ve thought?

“We can always leave, whenever you want. No questions asked,” Kirishima coaxed.
“Tonight’s just about having fun. No hero talk, no stress. There may be some more teasing if
you don’t sing again, but I promise that’s it.” He offered a smile. “Trust me.”

Bakugou sighed, shoulders slumping. He really couldn’t argue against that; Kirishima had
brought out the big gun. “Okay,” he relented quietly. “I trust you.”

Kirishima beamed at him, causing his chest to almost feel like something was fluttering
inside him. The redhead kissed the back of his hand before gently urging him forward.
Bakugou stepped to follow.

The karaoke place hadn’t changed, the decor just the same as they walked inside. Kirishima
led him to the same room, sending him one last encouraging look before opening the door.

“Kirishima!”

“Bakugou!”

Bakugou wasn’t surprised to hear a chorus of Kirishima’s name in welcome, but he was a
little blind-sided at his own reception. Ashido almost immediately yanked Kirishima away to
be a part of some song while Jirou waved Bakugou over to sit next to her. He did so a little
warily.

“Hey,” she offered, gently bumping her arm against his. Even though it didn’t look like
everyone was there yet, with so many already in the room he was pressed a little closer than
he’d like.
“Baku-bro, my man!” Kaminari shouted, nearly vibrating when he threw himself into the seat
next to him. “Change your mind about singing this time?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Sero snorted from where he was sitting on a beanbag chair, covering his mouth. “Told you it
was a lost cause.”

“I bet Bakugou’s really hiding the voice of an angel,” Uraraka offered, holding up her drink
with a light blush across her cheeks. “He just doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“I am n--” Bakugou blushed, scowling. He wasn’t sure if it was surprising or not, how
quickly they all pulled him into their pace, almost like he’d always been a part of the group.
It didn’t feel...bad.

Bakugou’s eyes landed on where Midoriya was sitting across the room. The other met his
eyes, offering a tentative smile and waving a little. Bakugou tsked, leaning back and nodding
at him. Midoriya instantly brightened, before just a tiny spark of mischief lit in his eyes.
Bakugou narrowed his gaze suspiciously as he got up and started whispering to Yaoyaorozu,
who was currently holding the song selection tablet. She grinned, nodding to him. Midoriya
cut his eyes at Bakugou, smirking.

Bakugou didn’t trust that little shit.

He was distracted quickly by Kirishima starting in on a loud peppy number with Ashido and
Hagakure. Both girls were terribly off key, but Kirishima wasn’t much better. They were
mostly laughing by the end anyways, hardly making it through three-fourths of the lyrics.

A few more people slipped into the room as the next half hour passed, until it seemed
everyone from last time was there again. Bakugou had a drink shoved in his hand by Iida
after the other loudly assured him that it was a soda and that he respected Bakugou’s decision
to not drink alcohol. He’d said this while sending Kaminari a pointed look, making the blond
break into giggles as he toasted his next shot to him. Iida sighed, smiling despite himself.

“He’s such a trainwreck, why do I love him?” Jirou shook her head, watching Kaminari
hanging off Kirishima’s bicep as the other grinned and flexed. Sero leapt onto Kirishima’s
other arm, clearly having a buzz himself. Bakugou was almost positive Kirishima hadn’t had
a drop of alcohol; this was just his natural personality.

“At least he fits in,” Bakugou offered, shrugging as he waved to indicate the whole room.
Jirou laughed, nodding.

The next number started with a distinctive sequence, a few telling notes, and Bakugou
stiffened, head instantly jerking to stare heavily at where Midoriya was holding a mic and
grinning right at him. He had the other mic in his hand, holding it out at him teasingly.

“Fuck. No,” Bakugou said through gritted teeth.

“Well okay, but you know I’m going to butcher it,” Midoriya said, shrugging like he didn’t
care. “But I guess it is just an old song that doesn’t really matter...” The beat picked up
quickly, the first verse starting with Midoriya squawking out a few horrendously off-key
notes, getting the words wrong and entirely off tune.

“You mother fucker ,” Bakugou shouted at him, stomping over to snatch the other mic.

Midoriya beamed and everyone else cheered.

“Fucking hate you,” Bakugou hissed. He didn’t have to look at the screen for the words. He
didn’t even know how Midoriya had even found the damn full version of the theme song
from the old All Might cartoon they’d watched as kids, but like fuck was he letting him
butcher it like this.

Despite feeling a little like he was under a microscope, he did manage to get a few lines out
without sounding like a dying cat, which was more than Midoriya had done. He wasn’t really
a singer but he overshadowed his own nervousness by being louder, belting out the words to
drown out Midoriya, who was laughing more than he thought necessary. Luckily it seemed
like most of the people in the room also knew the words and they joined in by the time the
chorus kicked in. Kirishima waltzed over with a bright grin, throwing his arm over his
shoulder and leaning in to use the same microphone. Bakugou felt him squeeze his shoulder,
leaning into him without making Bakugou hold his weight, and it did make it feel a little less
like he was on display. When Ashido pulled Iida, Uraraka and Satou into doing the signature
dance from the opening of the cartoon, Bakugou couldn’t help it when his voice cracked and
he laughed at Iida’s enthusiastic but mechanical movements along with everyone else.

“That was wonderful!” Yaoyorozu cheered as the song ended and everyone calmed down a
little, trying to catch their breath. “I’ve never heard that song!”

“I haven’t either,” Todoroki input.

“Ah, it was from this old cartoon about All Might,” Midoriya explained, sitting next to
Todoroki and accepting a glass of water from him.

“That would explain why I haven’t heard it,” Todoroki said, nodding with understanding.
“My father wouldn’t have allowed it.”

“We can marathon it tomorrow,” Midoriya assured him, grinning. Todoroki seemed pleased
by that.

“Well, well, look at you,” Jirou said as Bakugou reclaimed his seat next to her. “Careful now
or we may think you’re having fun.”

Bakugou snorted. “Fuck off.” She grinned, handing him back his soda, which he chugged
quickly.

It was easier to relax after that. With no one having asked him about last time or anything
else, and with everyone seeming more comfortable with him now that he’d ‘passed the test’
or ‘completed the initiation’ or whatever Kaminari was slurring about, he just felt kind
of...comfortable. Like maybe it wasn’t so bad here after all. Watching how everyone
integrated so well, how they came together in small groups only to mix it up later without any
problems, making it clear that they were all friends and it wasn’t just small cliques...well, it
made him wonder. About how things might have been different, if he’d been able to go to
U.A., if he hadn’t had to move. He would’ve been in their class. He would’ve had those
shared memories. He met Kirishima’s bright eyes across the room and couldn’t keep himself
from returning a small grin when the redhead beamed at him. He would’ve met Kirishima
sooner.

He thought about a forest, about flames, about running and fighting and trying so hard to get
away but being alone alone alone and totally outnumbered. Taken and no one to hear him, no
one to follow, no one to notice until it was already too late and every track was covered,
every lead closed. Would that have been different too?

He tried to push the thoughts away, begrudgingly letting Ashido coax him into singing
another song along with Aoyama and Sato. He sent her a droll look as he glanced at the
screen and saw it was some cutesy pop song. She grinned, slapping her hands together and
bowing.

“Please?” she begged.

“Fucking-- once ,” he stressed, giving in.

“Yay!”

Bakugou noticed Kirishima sitting, literally, on the edge of his seat as he leaned forward to
watch, eyes bright and focused solely on Bakugou. He fought down a blush. The other had no
problem being silly sometimes, had even done that ridiculous dance last time just to make
Bakugou laugh. Bakugou just...didn’t do silly. Or he wasn’t familiar with it, at least. He’d
never really been in a situation where it would even come up. He’d been singularly focused
on graduating and becoming a hero in school; he hadn’t ever hung out with anyone in his
class outside of school or gone to any of their parties or outings. Truthfully though, after the
impression he’d left on everyone here last time...what did he really have to lose? Kirishima
was the only one who’s opinion he really cared about here anyways.

Right?

“Alright!” Bakugou shouted. He scanned the lyrics quickly. He wasn’t familiar with the song,
but he didn’t believe in half-assing anything. He would give it a shot.

He was pretty sure his singing was more growl than the song asked for, but there was no way
he was hitting any high notes without screeching and that wasn’t really a noise he wanted to
make. Besides, Ashido was handling the high notes just fine. The effort was worth it when he
saw Kirishima light up with pure delight. The redhead had made a lot of sacrifices and done a
lot to get Bakugou to this point; he deserved a night off, and if Bakugou could get him to
laugh, well, that was always a good thing.

They lingered for over three hours, drinking and laughing and singing and dancing. When
Bakugou and Kirishima finally exited the place, falling into step, out of breath and hands
intertwined, Bakugou felt his heart thump heavily in his chest. He’d...actually had fun. He
liked just spending time with the other, being a bit of a fool, without having to worry about
pushing himself or therapy or fighting or anything else.

“Thanks,” he said, looking up to meet the other’s gaze.

Kirishima smiled, so soft, so affectionate. “Thank you for coming. I’m glad you had fun,” he
said. “You deserved a break. You’ve been pushing yourself so hard and I know you’re
making tons of progress, but sometimes it’s okay to slow down and just take a breath.”

Bakugou hummed, leaning against him and breathing in the cool night air. Bakugou had
never been one to slow down, he’d never let himself be distracted or make excuses. He had to
be constantly moving forward, fighting, getting stronger. But after this, after everything,
maybe this was what the doctor had meant when he’d told Bakugou to be kind to himself.
Maybe Bakugou hadn’t ever been kind to himself, so used to not receiving it from anyone
else, so used to fighting on his own.

Treat yourself the way Kirishima treats you.

The redhead smiled against Bakugou’s temple, ruffling his hair playfully, keeping him close.
Bakugou lifted their connected hands, brushing his lips across the back of Kirishima’s hand
like the other had done to him so many times before. Bakugou didn’t know how to be kind, it
was something he’d always struggled with in school during his hero lessons and even more
so now, but he was willing to learn.

Bakugou was positive he had the best teacher for it right by his side, and he was willing to
fight the whole League all over again to keep him there.

…..(Fifteen Months Later).....

Bakugou stared at the pro hero in front of him steadily. Miruko raised a brow.

"You're late, brat," she said with a smirk. "Thought I was going to retire before you got here."

Bakugou grinned back. "You might as well, since I'll be taking your spot on my way to
Number One."

She threw her head back and laughed.

"Well come on then, hero. Show me what you can do."

Bakugou grinned.

Plus Ultra.

…..

His first mission with Miruko, the villains had taken some hostages and were holed up in a
bank, demanding a helicopter be delivered to the roof in return for the hostages. Miruko and a
few other pros were quick to coordinate and the rabbit hero led Bakugou around to a choke
point.

It wasn't long before a few villains made a run for it their way, one of them carrying a small
girl like a ragdoll.

"Ground Zero! The girl!" Miruko ordered, kicking one of the villains into a wall.

Bakugou blasted up, managing to get a clear shot into the villain's stomach. He grabbed the
girl during the villain's short lapse in his hold, bringing her securely to his chest while he
blasted the villain back towards Miruko. The small girl circled his neck with her hands,
clinging tightly with fear.

Bakugou was instantly assaulted with a face full of Omega scent. He gagged, forced himself
to swallow it down, refusing to let her go in the chaos. She couldn't have been seven, her fear
scent drawing out the sweetness of an Omega even more than usual. It was meant as a
protection, to urge nearby Alphas to protect, but all Bakugou saw was the ring. He shook his
head.

Focus. You're not back there and you don't have time to lose it.

Bakugou sucked in a breath through his mouth, feeling that cloying sweetness on his tongue,
and gritted his teeth, blasting over the fighting to where the police had made a barricade. He
handed off the girl to the EMT that rushed forward, trying not to shove her away from him
too quickly.

"My baby! Thank you, hero, thank you!" A woman cried out as she saw them, and the girl
instantly sobbed in her mother's arms while the emergency services tried to do a check up.
Bakugou nodded, turning back to the fight.

Later, after the villains were captured and the police and reporters gone, Bakugou slipped into
an alley and violently threw up. He wiped at his mouth.

Better. Got to be better.

…..

Bakugou loved when he and Kirishima managed to get called into the same job.

It wasn't often, working for two different agencies and all, but Miruko wasn't like other
heroes, she didn't keep to just one place. So sometimes that meant Bakugou was around when
Kirishima got called in.

Bakugou had a lot of respect for Kirishima, he would admit. He'd known from the first
moment that he was a good hero, someone who really cared. But he hadn't really seen what
he could do, his pure strength, until Red Riot threw a right hook that knocked a villain with a
power quick out in one hit, and then he proceeded to hold up a collapsing building where the
villain had damaged the support beam for nearly twenty minutes as everyone evacuated. The
bastard was barely even breathing hard.
Goddamn, he's amazing, Bakugou thought. Kirishima smiled winningly at the reporters, skin
soft and approachable once more as he rubbed the back of his neck and praised every other
hero there while waving off compliments to himself.

Without a thought, Bakugou headed over to him. He wanted to make him understand how
strong he was. He wanted to let him know that he saw him, that he was so amazing. He
wanted to maybe get another one of the man's perfect hugs, maybe even--

"Ground Zero!"

He blinked as a reporter shoved a microphone in his face.

"One of our newest heroes who is swiftly growing in popularity," she said at the camera with
a wink, turning back to him. "You saved a lot of people today. Anything you'd like to say?"

Bakugou's eyes flicked back to Kirishima's back. Well. If he couldn't tell the other directly…

"The real hero today was Red Riot," he said, nodding towards Kirishima. "None of us would
have had enough time to get in and get people out if he hadn't stayed strong and kept the
building from immediately collapsing."

The reporter beamed as the camera cut after a few follow-up questions. "Thank you, Ground
Zero!" She glanced at Kirishima, smile softening. "Red Riot always praises everyone else but
never takes credit for himself. And unfortunately a lot of heroes don't pay attention to him
since he's not very flashy. It's nice to see someone supporting him too." She smiled at
Bakugou. "You really do have quite a growing fan base, and I'd say you just gained one
more."

Bakugou huffed a small laugh. "It's only obvious. Stupid fucker's practically invincible." He
rolled his eyes. The reporter's eyes widened at his cursing before she snorted, quickly
clapping her hand over her mouth.

"I'm so sorry! I just wasn't expecting that. Most heroes are pretty...well, they usually fall in
the super sweet category or the...Endeavor category."

Bakugou smirking. "Well maybe you need a new category of hero," he suggested, shrugging.

She smiled. "I think you might be right." She bowed slightly. "I'd really like to see you move
forward, Ground Zero."

His grin was all teeth. "Then you better fucking watch."

…..

It was weird, only seeing Kirishima once a week. He'd started to see the man as a friend,
honestly the best friend he'd ever had, but as he'd gotten mentally well enough to leave the
hospital, he'd had a quiet moment of panic where he wondered if Kirishima would ever still
want to be around him. Kirishima calmed that worry immediately though, showing up at the
small apartment he'd moved into with a houseplant and a bottle of sake to celebrate. Bakugou
decided to relent, just this once, and warmed it for them both to drink. He was home and he
was with Kirishima. He could let himself relax a little.

"I'm so proud of you," Kirishima murmured, head lying on the table and squishing one of his
cheeks while he looked up at Bakugou with only one eye open. He had a soft smile on his
face and Bakugou could feel his heart pounding at the look.

He wanted Kirishima to always look at him like that.

"Yeah?" He asked, sipping at his sake. It was starting to cool, the flavor not quite as smooth
going down his throat.

"Mmhmm," Kirishima agreed. "You're so strong, Bakugou. You're going to be great. The
best. I know it."

"Katsuki."

Kirishima hummed in question.

"You should call me Katsuki at this point," Bakugou said. The decision hadn't been planned,
but it felt right. Bakugou held his breath until Kirishima sent a beaming smile his way.

"Then you should call me Eijirou!"

Bakugou nodded, hiding his smile behind his sake cup.

"Alright then. Eijirou."

Kirishima's face bloomed, red crossing his nose and both cheeks in a blush. "Katsuki," he
said, like the word was physically pulled from him.

Bakugou knew his face was burning and he tried to hide it, looking down and away.
Kirishima reached out, two fingers running across his jaw and gently coaxing him to look
back at him.

"Thank you, Katsuki," he murmured. Bakugou thought for sure his heart was about to beat
from his chest, his palms were sweaty like they were about to ignite. What the fuck was this?
Why did he feel like this? Was he sick? Drunk?

Kirishima grabbed his hand and Bakugou almost shouted at him to let go, worried his palms
might spark without meaning to. But before he could say anything, Kirishima pressed his lips
to the back of his hand before pulling away to grab at his own cup of sake, gesturing for them
to knock their cups together. Bakugou followed his direction, staring up at the ceiling as they
both took a drink and realization slapped him in the face.

Holy shit. Was this a goddamned crush ? Bakugou didn't get crushes . He'd never had a
crush!

“Hey, Katsuki?” Kirishima said his name like he’d been dying to, like Bakugou had given
him the best gift and he wanted to use it right now, again and again. Bakugou couldn’t deny
 that he liked hearing it roll off the redhead’s tongue. “Promise you won’t forget me when
you’re Number One?” Kirishima teased.

Bakugou scoffed. “You think I’m not going to drag your ass up the charts with me?” He
leaned forward, feeling just loose enough from the alcohol, just free enough, that he could
reach out and run a hand through the other’s hair without second-guessing, mussing the
spikes that were already loose after a full day. “I wouldn’t…” He swallowed. “I wouldn’t
accept it if you weren’t at my side. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you. Eijirou, I…”
He watched as Kirishima took his hand from his hair, lacing their fingers and smiling
warmly, feeling like a perfect hug after the longest day, like stepping into a warm bath, like
that first bite of dessert, like every single one of the few good and kind and soft things that
Bakugou had ever experienced in his lifetime.

“I know,” Kirishima murmured, nuzzling against his hand. “I feel the same.”

Bakugou felt a lump in his throat, surprised to find himself trembling a little as he fought the
emotions sweeping over him like high tide. He jerkily tugged Kirishima closer by their
connected hands, practically clutching at him as Kirishima wrapped him into a warm
embrace, squeezing him just right. Bakugou breathed him in, something in him settling when
he could smell his own scent on Kirishima, could tell the other’s scent was on himself, so
mixed that no one could deny they were both claimed by the other.

This was frightening in an entirely different way than anything Bakugou had ever
experienced, but it was exciting too, in a way. He was scared, but then he was also not, not
with Kirishima at his side. Even if this was all unfamiliar to him, even if he couldn’t put it
into words and he knew this was opening a whole new can of worms they’d need to discuss,
even so...he was okay. He was really okay. More than okay. He was...

Kirishima nuzzled against his neck, nosing at his scent gland familiarly as he hummed lowly,
content and calm and comfortable. Bakugou hid his smile against the other’s shoulder.

He was happy.

Chapter End Notes

CHAPTER WARNINGS: implied child neglect/abuse, discussions of past suicidal

ideation, survivor's guilt, drinking, mention of throwing up

If you want some joy in your life, you should listen to this short clip of Bakugou's VA
(or either someone who sounds very similar, I'm not positive) singing here.

I tried my best to wrap everything up; I hope you all like it! This fic has been quite a
journey, but I'm glad I was able to finish it in what I thought was a pretty satisfactory
way. I always love to hear your thoughts! Thank you for sticking with me! <3
Works inspired by this one

A thin line by Meekhayl

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!