Catch-22 (ch2)

EARLY RELEASE FOR MY $10+ PATRONS!

So this chapter is going to be a little different from chapter one in the sense that it isn't going to be entirely Bakugo's POV. It'll also be a bit omniscient at times as well as give a bit of Ochako's POV. Basically, a little bit less cursing. Just a little.

Also, it's Bakugo's birthday, so perfect time to post! Even though it's far from a fun happy bday event fic...

Disclaimer: I do not own Boku no Hero Academia.

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															Chapter 2.

It's the same every goddamn time. Every training exercise every fucking time always ends up the same fucking way.

Villains. Those shitty-ass villains always end up fucking things up in one way or another. The only up side is that Class A is granted permission to fight in self-defense.

So Bakugo doesn't hold anything back. When their ugly asses come at him he lets loose, blowing things up left and right, blasting at them with everything he's got.

The shit-ton of debris he creates allows some of the others to come up with a plan. He only hears bits and pieces; Tokoyami will gather the pieces up, Todoroki will cover him, Uraraka will make the pieces float and drop them when the time's right...

He doesn't know the exact plan, but he gets the gist of it. Either way, his job is to keep blowing shit up, and that's something he's good at.

So he just keeps blasting the shit-faced villains away whenever they get too close. A lot of the others are on the front-lines too, defending with everything they've got. But he's the one who's gonna finish this. Bakugo's had a plan the entire time.

He gradually backs himself into a certain area of the training grounds, making it seem like a retreat. He blasts all of the boulders and trees in his path until there's nothing left standing but a mountain.

It'll be good practice.

As the villains charge, spouting their bullshit words of victory, Bakugo yells out as loud as he can.

"Get back unless you wanna fuckin' die!"

It's more of a warning for his classmates than the attackers, but he says it in a way that still sounds more like a threat than a cautioning.

It turns out it's even easier for him to blow up a mountain than he'd thought. Improvements to his costume and relentless hours of training and concentration on his power bust the rock and earth to pieces in seconds.

The blast of the impact is insanely strong, winds and rock and debris splattering all over from the berserk speed and force of his hit. The villains are blown back into his classmates' waiting ambushes. Dark Shadow pins one, Todoroki freezes another, Sero bounds one with tape, Yaoyorozu traps another with a net, and of course Deku punches one halfway into next week.

As Bakugo staggers to his feet there's still a ton of shit falling all around, and he gives a few blasts to blow up the bigger boulders before they come down. Dust shrouds the entire area of the aftermath, clogging the air. The ground is cracked and splintered where the mountain used to be, completely fucking obliterated. He grins.

"That's what you fuckin' get, assholes!"

He's still soaring on the high of the unmistakable win, adrenaline still pumping hot in his veins and making him itch for more. He glares around the battlefield, wanting more to come at him, needing another ugly bastard to pound his fists into; he could do this shit all fucking day.

His ears are still ringing from the explosion, his blood still rumbling from the concussive repel blast. More. He needs more. He needs to let loose even fucking more-

That's when the ringing finally begins to fade, and the sounds of voices start making sense. They're shouting something, and it takes him a minute to realize it's a name.

"Uraraka-kun!"

"Ochako-chan!"

"Uraraka-san!"

No. They aren't calling out in excitement. They aren't congratulating her for her fighting or celebrating the victory.

He can tell right away. There's fear in their voices, and suddenly all the red-hot adrenaline in his veins runs cold.

The voices continue to echo her name as the dust finally clears. He turns slowly, looking toward the spot their shouts are aimed at.

He doesn't want to see. But he needs to know.

Everyone is still, but no one more so than her. The rest of them are on their feet. But she's crumpled on the ground, surrounded by sharp splinters of rock.

There's blood. She isn't moving.

It's just like back at the sports' festival, only a million times worse. More than a million. She'd more or less done it to herself back then.

But this time... This time it was his fault.

Everything feels like it comes rushing out of him all at once. Unlike the weightlessness she makes him feel, now it feels like that mountain he'd destroyed has reformed right on top of him. His head feels like it's full of bees, his vision is blearing white, and his legs are gripped by numbness.

He takes a step and nearly stumbles, pushing himself back up so hard he almost falls again. She still doesn't move. The wind just tumbles limply through her hair. The usual chestnut brown color is darkened with red.

The others keep calling out for her and desperately try to get to her. Bakugo doesn't even hear them anymore. He just staggers closer step by step, but now even the tiniest pebbles beneath his shoes feel like they're going to unbalance him and bring him down.

When the others realize he's going, they stop coming and fall silent, holding themselves back in tearful, terrified silence. Only Bakugo keeps going.

It's too damn quiet. After all that fucking noise, now it's suddenly too goddamn quiet. He can hear the blood roaring in his ears, feel it surging and then sinking.

"Oy..."

He staggers close, but she still doesn't stir. He can see now just how much blood is pooling around her. It's too much.

"Oy..."

His voice cracks, but not in the usual way. Not because he's been yelling and shouting enough to nearly lose his voice. It cracks for another reason.

"Oy, oy, oy... stop messin' around..."

He finally reaches her, but she never answers, never looks up.

He feels like he's gonna vomit. He almost wants to if it would mean this burning shitstorm in his gut would go the fuck away.

It's the worst. He'd been put within an inch of his life a million times, but nothing is worse than this.

He drops to his knees, feeling the slight pain as rocks and twigs scrape his skin. He welcomes it if it means he can feel anything but this awful fucking numbness. He wants to bleed. He wants it to be him instead of her.

She still hasn't moved, not even a little.

"Oy..." His voice grates like rusted iron as the tang of blood hits his nose. "I said stop screwin' around, damn it..."

He reaches out, but his hands seem too big, too bruised and calloused to be touching her like this. He brushes against her hand, just the pads of her fingers, half expecting her to open her eyes and giggle that it was all an act before making him float away and look like a fucking idiot.

But it doesn't happen. She just lies there, so still he can't even tell if she's breathing. He feels heat behind his eyes and snarls, forcing it back.

"I said stop messin' with me! Get up, damn it!"

His voice blasts furiously around the clearing, wanting to startle her awake if all else fails.

But not even that works. She still doesn't budge.

He can't make sense of it. She's been down before, but she always gets back up. She has to...

The buzzing in the back of his head slowly begins to become coherent as voices.

"Uraraka-san!"

"She's bleeding-"

"We need to get her treated-"

"I'm the fastest! I'll take her!"

"Wait, Iida-kun! If you run too quickly it could make it worse..."

Bakugo rounds on the rest of them and yowls.

"Shut the hell up! I'm going! I'm taking her!"

They all pause, mouths agape, and take a step back. Bakugo spits out another curse before turning back to her. He crouches closer, angling his arms to get the grenades on his costume out of the way. He slides one hand beneath her knees and the other around her shoulders.

As soon as he tries to move her, blood starts leaking onto his palm. Her head rolls limply toward him, but she doesn't make a sound.

He curses again, baiting his breath that's hot like acid. He pulls her into his arms and keeps her close. Normally she'd use her Quirk to make herself a little lighter – she was always worried about her weight for no damn reason. But now he supports all of her, which isn't much at all to begin with.

He braces her back against his knee, holding her up and looking down into her face. Her hair is a wreck, spilling out all over her face, matted with dried crusted blood. Bruises and scratches mar her cheeks, but none worse than the deep gash across her left temple.

"Shit..." He moves slowly and stiffly, making sure not to jostle her. But as he stands, it seems like the blood starts flowing faster. "Shit... Fuckin' stop it-"

He turns and takes off running as quickly as he dares, cradling her head against his chest to keep her still.

He blows past the others without a second glance and just runs.

Each step is another curse, another surge of stinging behind his eyes.

"Shit, shit, shit-"

Somewhere along the lines, the heat starts dripping down his face. He runs faster.

"Shit... Don't fuckin' do this... You can't fuckin' do this, you hear me?! Just open your eyes, damn it! Just say something! Damn it- say something, Ochako!"

He can barely see now. Everything's fucking blurry and he can't even see where he's going.

Faster. He's gotta run faster-

"Mn..."

It's a small sound. Tiny. Frail. He'd never considered her to be frail before, not even at the sports' festival, but now might be the time for it.

He skids to a stop and looks back down at her.

She still hasn't moved from what he can tell. Her eyes are still closed, and blood has started dripping over the side of her face in addition to the trail dribbling down the back.

He waits for a moment, wasting the time he should be using to get her to the infirmary, but he needs to know if it was real. It had to have been. There's no way he imagined it. There's no fucking way...

"Mn..."

This time there's no mistake about it. Her brow furrows, and her body jolts the tiniest bit. She tries to open her eyes, wincing at the effort it takes for such a simple thing. Her chest heaves with a painful breath that cuts off halfway through.

Bakugo doesn't have time to feel any relief that she's conscious. Not when she's this bad. She sputters and trembles in his arms, eyes glazed as she tries to make sense of him.

"B... Baku-chan..."

He doesn't know what he's feeling now. Whatever it is, it's warm and confusing and annoying, and more heat drips down his cheeks.

"Idiot..." he spits softly, but there's no real venom in it. "Don't fucking talk."

A shudder rips through her, and the next thing he knows she's crying.

"But... you told me to... say something..."

He sucks in a breath and bites his lip so hard he tastes blood.

"Idiot. Just hold on. I'm taking you to-"

"B-Baku-chan-" She chokes on the tears, and he tightens his hold on her. "You're crying... sorry..." She gasps from the pain, and her eyes fall shut again.

His chest goes tight and he feels his strength draining.

"Oy... Wait a second... I take it back, idiot. Talk to me- keep talkin', keep your eyes on me, Uraraka-"

The wetness on his face burns and eventually drips down onto hers. He can feel the blood still trickling down his arm. She doesn't open her eyes again.

"Shit... damn it, damn it-!"

He takes off again, a desperate sprint past the blur in his eyes.

He runs until he hears people calling out for him. He can't make sense of what the hell they're saying anymore. The only thing that makes sense is when her weight leaves his arms. They take her from him.

He drops to his knees and howls.

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Hours later, Bakugo finds himself in a chair beside a bed. Ochako is quiet and unmoving, with bandages running all around her head. They'd dressed her in robes and made him change out of his costume too, something about it being too bulky and hazardous for the infirmary wing. But other than that he'd stayed by her side every second.

Arms crossed and leg bouncing, he waits for her to wake up. They'd said she would, it was just a matter of when. He'd be damned if he wasn't there when it happened. He'll wait as long as it takes. No one would fucking dare ask him to leave.

It's torture though, because the room is so goddamn quiet. It's just the two of them, and she sure as hell isn't talking.

The only sound is the monitor beeping. It annoys him at first, makes him want to break the damn machine clean in half.

But when he stops long enough to think about it, he realizes just what it is. It's her pulse, her heart - proof that she's still alive.

Proof he hadn't really had out on the battlefield.

He needs to keep hearing it. It isn't an option.

So he waits and waits and waits more and more, mind racing more quickly than the bouncing of his leg.

In contrast she's perfectly still, save for the faint rise and fall of her chest. One of her hands had been placed above the sheets to connect to an IV drip. Eventually, he uncrosses his arms and puts his hand over hers.

He knows she can fight damn well near as good as anyone else in the class, if not better. But right now she's just so damn small, so damn weak... And it's his fault.

"Shit..."

The first word in hours, and of course it's a curse. He'd done this to her. He'd put her here. All because he'd been too reckless and hadn't checked first if anyone had been in the danger zone of the blast.

Now that she's been treated and stabilized, he doesn't have to worry as much. Which means he can spend all of his thoughts and energy on being pissed off at himself.

He wants someone to come in and deck him hard in the jaw. He wants someone to beat the shit out of him.

When he squeezes - gentle as it is - his hand over hers, it almost feels like he might break her.

"Shit...! What the hell? What the hell am I-?"

He feels tears again and refuses them. He swipes them away and grits his teeth, grinding them, almost wishing they'd snap off. He wants to break something. He wants to blow something into oblivion.

But even when his thoughts are of violence, his hand never presses too hard on hers. It's just enough to let her know he's here.

It feels like years, but even though he's trapped in his own guilt, he doesn't stay down long enough not to notice.

It isn't much, just a slight twitch of her fingers beneath his, just a small spike in her pulse, but when he's been listening to the rhythm for hours on end, he knows it well enough by now to recognize the difference.

He blinks, finding his vision still hazy and hot, but when it finally clears all the waiting is worth it, and all the anger fades.

Her eyes flutter, struggling at first, and she sucks in a hard breath from the effort. Her fingers twitch beneath his as if trying to grab on.

He sniffs and clears his throat; he didn't even realize when it got clogged. He's waited a long time already, but he gives her a little more now.

It takes her a minute, but eventually she manages to open her eyes, glazed and confused and tired. But he's the first thing she sees, and clarity sparks instantly.

"Baku-chan..."

Her voice is thin and scratched, and he almost winces to hear it. But the relief he feels is something he can't even begin to describe.

"Idiot..." In contrast to the word, he squeezes her hand. "Took you long enough."

"Sorry..."

"Shut up. Don't apologize, moron."

She smiles weakly, but it still has all her usual sweetness behind it.

"You carried me back here, right?"

He snorts.

"I took responsibility." He looks down at the floor, avoiding her eyes. "It was my damn fault-"

"Now you be quiet, Baku-chan." She makes an effort to sit herself up, and he instantly reaches out to hold down her shoulder.

"Idiot! Don't fuckin' move around!"

She pouts up at him, then heaves a sigh.

"Baku-chan, it wasn't your fault. You gave a warning. I didn't react in time. I didn't get out of range of your attack. Sorry."

"I said don't apologize."

"But I caused you a lot of trouble, didn't I? You were really worried. You even-" She spares him and doesn't say it. They both know that he'd cried, but she doesn't need to say it and rub salt in the wound. She might not see it as a weakness, but she knows he does. She turns her hand over beneath his and laces their fingers together. "Thanks for saving me, Baku-chan."

He growls, still pissed at himself for letting it happen in the first place.

"I said don't thank me, idiot. And don't apologize. Just get better."

She frowns until she gets him to look at her, and only then does she smile.

"I will. What about you, Baku-chan? Are you okay? Have you gotten some rest?"

"Ch. Who the hell cares about that? I don't need any."

"Yes you do. I'll be fine, so you should-"

"Oy." He cuts her off by leaning over her and pressing a kiss to her lips. Ochako squeaks softly in the back of her throat, and the heart monitor picks up the pace. When he pulls back she's speechless. He glares gently at her. "Just stop talking, idiot."

And she must finally get it, because she stops trying to convince him to leave. She just sighs and gives his hand another squeeze.

"Thanks..."

Proof she never wanted him to leave at all.

He finally cracks a smile and slides his chair closer. Slowly, he reaches out his free hand and curls his fingers through her hair, avoiding the bandages.

"Does it hurt?"

She smiles and closes her eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

"Mm-mm."

It's incredible to her really, how just hours ago he'd exploded an entire mountain, and now he's touching her more softly than a flower petal on a breeze. She rests for a moment, and only the sound of her pulse fills the room.

Bakugo hunches forward and closes his eyes too. But when he feels her try to move again he looks back up. She's bracing her unoccupied hand against the mattress, shifting her weight and making an effort to sit up. She grits her teeth and sucks in a deep breath, wincing. He tenses and tries to keep her down again.

"Oy, what the hell are you-"

"Please-" she gasps, peeking up at him past her messy bangs. "Please, Baku-chan."

He feels like he's been punched in the gut, but he can't say no to her. So he braces his arm around her shoulders and slowly helps her sit up, keeping her balanced and steady.

"Easy," he mutters. "You lost a hella lot of blood." Seriously. Why did she bleed so easily? It wasn't fucking fair.

Ochako admittedly slumps her weight against him and lets him hold her up. He's about to ask her why the hell she felt the need to sit up anyway, but the second her back is straight enough he gets an answer.

She leans over toward him and wraps both arms around him, curling around his shoulders as she buries her face in his neck. She trembles softly, letting out a long exhale.

He supports her sides under her arms and across the small of her back, easing forward so she won't have to lean over the edge of the bed.

She feels softer than ever against him, and warmer too. The fluttering of her pulse beats against his chest in time with the sound from the machine as she nuzzles into his neck. He cards fingers through her hair and over her back.

He'd be straight up fucking lying if he'd said he hadn't been dying for this too.

He doesn't dare to hold her any tighter than what she's giving him. He feels like he might break her. She must be able to read him perfectly though, because she squeezes him harder, letting him know it's all right for him to do the same.

Minutes pass, and more and more. Her pulse begins to slow down and her embrace on him loosens a little. He holds on, the usual scowl present on his face, even though internally he feels better than ever before. This feeling right now is better than any battle victory.

She stirs and makes a tired little sound in his ear, humming softly.

"Hey, Baku-chan...?"

He can tell she's barely conscious, but she's fighting it off because there's one last thing she needs to know.

"Before... did you call me 'Ochako'...?"

He stiffens and grunts, which probably gives him away, but the denial comes naturally.

"Like hell I did. Just shut up and go to sleep, Uraraka."

She sighs happily, and he knows she's found him out, but she's merciful enough not to rub it in.

He holds her up until she's gone limp from sleep, and keeps holding her a while after that too, brushing his cheek against hers, kissing the bandages.

It takes the orders of the medical personnel an hour later to finally make him get up. He lies her back down, leaves another kiss on her forehead, and tucks her in.

He eventually makes it back to his room and sleeps, but only because it's what he knows she wants; so they'll be able to fight together again another day.

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A/N: So this was kinda not exactly what I had in mind (mostly the ambiguous fight sequence) but I wanted to do some angst.  I'd always wondered how Bakugo would react if she got hurt, but what if it was his fault? Man oh man...

I might... might do one more... perhaps from Ochako's POV. But I'm not sure yet. We'll see!