No.17 - Tumblr Posts

"He never, ever saw it coming at all...

He never, ever saw it coming at all...

He never, ever saw it coming at all...

It's alright, it's alright

It's alright, it's alright,

It's alright, it's alright,

It's alright, it's alright..."

~

-Hero, Regina Spektor

Whumptober No.17

"Today, on the news, we have a strange story at the least... An old hero from Japanese legend who faded out of stories perhaps twenty years ago has suddenly reappeared... In Paris."

(Click for better quality)

Whumptober Prompt #13- Adrenaline and #17- “Stay With Me”

Heeeey.  I’ll make this short, no one’s really reading anyways. This is ColdFlash.  The Adrenaline is interpreted rather loosely.

Chest compressions.  Breath.  Breath.  Chest compressions.  Gasp like there’s no air.  Breath.  Breath.  Listen to his heart.  Don’t hear anything.  Chest compressions.  Don’t panic, don’t paNIC, DON’T PANIC.  Breath.  Breath.  Nothing.  Start chest compressions again.

“Stay with me, Barry, stay with me.”  Mutter under breath.  Barely notice the water vapor.  Jacket is still sticking to skin.  Hope that the cold won’t kill him faster.

Don’t look at his slack, angelic face.  Rip off mask just in case it’s impeding his breathing.  Check his airway again.  Don’t think about doing CPR on his lifeless body.  Continue doing chest compressions.  Breath.  Breath.  Check his pulse.  Check again.

Panic.

“No, no, no, please, Barry, stay with me.  Don’t go, don’t go, stay with me, please.”

Feel lost.  Feel scared.  Feel angry.

“You bastard!  How dare you?  Come back, you bastard!  Come back!”

Clench your hand into a fist.  Pound on his chest.  His body jerks.  A small trickle of water comes out of his mouth.  Grasp onto the smallest hope.  Do it again.  And again.

… 

With the greatest sound Len had ever heard in his life, Barry coughed, throwing up water and bile as his airways cleared.  Len turned Barry onto his side, and the coughing became easier.  When he stopped throwing up, and his breathing seemed to come naturally, Len hooked his arms around Barry’s knees and back, hauling him into Len’s arms.  He really wished he could take Barry to Star Labs where his friends could help him, but there was no way he could do that.  Len would have to leave his bike behind, he couldn’t hold onto an unconscious Barry and drive at the same time, but thankfully, he had a safehouse a couple of blocks away so he planned out a route in his head.  They were in a neighborhood where nobody ever looked out their windows, so he could just run with an unmasked Flash in his arms and no one would see anything, or say anything if they did.

In exactly fifteen point seven minutes, Len fumbled for his keys in his back pocket, trying to balance an unconscious Flash and open his locked door at the same time.  It took him fourteen point three seconds, an increase from his usual ten point nine, to get the door open and manhandle Barry inside.  He set Barry down on the nearby couch, glad he had had the foresight to put the couch close to the door, though he had done it in case he needed a quick shield or barricade.  He grabbed the throw pillows Lisa had given him as gag gifts, the ones with the Flash and Captain Cold personas on each, and tried to set Barry up so he was comfortable but still kept his airways clear and his chest without too much pressure on it.  He wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he’d read enough from the medical textbooks the prison libraries had available to know he needed to keep the stress off of Barry’s chest.  Soon as he was satisfied, he wrapped Barry in as many blankets as he could find.

Soon after, Barry’s wonderful, beautiful green eyes fluttered open.  Len’s entire body sagged in relief.  Barry’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, his mouth moving stiltedly.

“Barry?”  Len asked, trying to be gentle.

“-one.”  Barry struggled to get out, coughing again.

“One?  One what?”

Barry tried to clear his throat.  “Phone.”

Len pat down his jacket, and pulled a waterlogged phone out of his pocket.  He grimaced.  He hadn’t taken anything out of his pockets before jumping into the water after Barry.

“I have others.”  Len stated, setting the now useless phone on the coffee table.

He bolted to the bedroom and easily got into his safe, the one where he kept his important documents for the apartment like ownership papers and fake identities in case he needed to run, and pulled out the first burner phone he saw.  When he returned, he saw Barry trying to reach for the dead phone.

“Use this one, this one works.”  Len pressed the phone into Barry’s hands.

Barry’s hands were shaking as he tried to type a number into the text message function.  He kept slipping so Len gently took it from him, listening ardently.  Barry rattled off a number, a local one, so it was either Cisco or his father.

“What do you want to say?”  Len asked quietly.

“Cisco- it’s Bar.  Am safe.  Will come back ASAIC.”  Barry panted, sounding exhausted.  “Am safe, aren’t I?”

Len chuckled dryly.  “Yes because I’ve gone to all of this trouble to pull you out of a river, given you CPR, and dragged your dumb Hero ass all the way to one of my apartments to kill you.  It’s all a part of my master plan.”

Barry’s mouth quirked into a small smile.  Len would deny ever feeling a flutter of butterflies in his stomach like a schoolgirl at seeing that smile.

“Typed and sent.”  Len said, showing Barry the phone.

Barry nodded and closed his eyes again.

Len sighed, feeling just a tad guilty but shook Barry anyway.  “Nope.  You can’t rest just yet.  You gotta help me get you out of this suit.  You’re freezing.”

Barry didn’t open his eyes, he merely hit a button on the chest plate of his suit and it became more relaxed than Len’d ever seen it.

“Come on, you can’t help me?”  Len teased, feeling a little better about getting back into their usual rhythm.  “You’re gonna make me strip you alone?”

Barry didn’t answer him.

Len checked his pulse and breathing, and found them both strong.  It seemed Barry’s metahuman healing factor was putting him back together at record speed.  Len double checked them again, just in case.

Then he soldiered on, manhandling Barry out of the Flash suit.  Barry must’ve been more than exhausted to let him do this alone because all he found underneath the Flash’s red not-leather, as Barry once insisted, was Barry’s smooth marble skin and toned muscles.  He didn’t even know that Barry had a six-pack, but to be honest, it made sense.  Flash was strong enough to take on guys like King Shark and Gorilla Grodd so having a six-pack and muscles that almost made Len drool didn’t seem too far-fetched.

When he got to the legs aspect of the suit, he hesitated.  Barry only wore his boxers underneath, and those certainly couldn’t stay but he did not want to do that alone.  But it seemed Barry was good and out, and wouldn’t be helping.  So Len tried to push his personal feelings for Barry, and definitely his attraction to Barry’s stunning runner’s physique, as deep in the back of his mind as he could and got to work.  He peeled the fabric away, first from the suit, then from the soaking wet cotton that was the only thing left protecting Barry’s modesty.  As soon as he could, he threw the blankets back over Barry so the temptation to look would not have its day.  He hung the soaking wet Flash suit over his shower curtain, with Barry’s boxers right next to it.  Hopefully, they could dry a little that way.

A low moan caught his attention.  He returned to the couch to find that Barry was beginning to wake up a little.

“Come on, baby, wake up.”  Len whispered, shaking Barry’s shoulder a little.

“Baby?”  Barry blinked his eyes open, much more coherent that the last time.

“What?  No, I called you Barry.”  Len said, cursing his stupid mouth for acting without his permission.  “You must still have water in your ears.”

“Water?”  Thankfully, Barry seemed to buy it.  “Wait, when did I get wet?  When-” Barry reached up to his face and recognized that he was no longer dressed.  “Where is my suit?!?”

“Relax, Scarlet,” Len smirked, enjoying that Barry was turning the color of his nickname, “It’s drying in my bathroom.  You were soaking wet, you needed to get out of those wet clothes.”

Barry nodded.  “That explains why I’m so cold.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”  Len asked.

Barry frowned.  “Jewelry store.  A new meta with some kind of either super strength or molecular density rearrangement… That’s it.”

“He got you pretty good.”  Len filled in.  “You took a bad hit to the head, and went flying over the bridge into the Mississippi.”

Barry stared at him.  “Then… how did I get here? With my suit in your bathroom?  Did you pull me out?”

Len distinctly ignored the memory of panicking in the murky water, desperately searching for the speedster.

“Eh, you more washed up on shore.” Len lied. “I couldn’t have anyone find you and know your secret.  How else would I still be able to continue working without you constantly throwing me in jail?”

Barry stared at him, his mouth twitching until he smiled.

“You saved my life.”

“I merely did what was necessary for me to do what I want to do.”  Len said.

“Then why did you give me CPR?”  Barry asked.  “I can feel it, you know.  I can feel my ribs knitting themselves back together and my lungs aching from the water.  You said I took a bad hit to the head.  Not the chest.”

“You probably broke your ribs when you hit the water.”  Len tried.

Barry’s smug smile was spreading across his face.  “No I didn’t. You saved me.”

“If you start with that ‘there’s good in you’ shit again, I’m kicking you out.”  Len snarled, his hackles rising.

Barry put up his hands in surrender.  “Wouldn’t want that.  You got a phone I can borrow? I need to tell the team I’m okay.”

“I already sent them a text.”  Len grumbled.

Barry’s smug smile got worse.

“Hey, that was your fault.”  Len accused.  “You were moving around trying to get a phone, I had to send it because you couldn’t.”

“I was?”  Barry asked.

Len nodded.

“I don’t remember any of that.”  The smug smile vanished, replaced by a worried frown.

“You took a bad hit to the head and fell off a bridge.”  Len said, gentler.  “Cut yourself some slack.”

Barry nodded back, then looked Len up and down.  “Are you okay?”

“Ask yourself that.”  Len said.  “You’re the one who fell off a bridge.”

“You seem cold.”  Barry started.

“Why thank you, and me without my parka.”  Len shot back.

“No seriously, you look cold.”  Barry tried again.

“The cold never bothered me anyway, Scarlet.”  Len smirked.

“Then why are your hands shaking?”  Barry asked bluntly, ignoring the terrible line.

That caught Len off guard.  He looked down and, shit, Barry was right. He shoved his hands and found his jacket still soaked through.

“Let me get out of these wet clothes and I’m sure they’ll freeze.”  Len said, standing.

Barry groaned.  “That was terrible!”

Day 5, 9, 10, 17, 18, 30- Lost in the Darkness

aka Working very hard to keep Bakugou blindfolded the entire story

prompts- pinned down, stranded, you're a liar, touch aversion, blindfold, bridal carry- building collapse, broken bones, head injury, Bakugou being Bakugou, Kiri not taking his shit hehe

AO3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50415793

Sometimes Katsuki entertains the idea that he might regret coming to U.A.

He didn’t, he would never accept anything less than the school that All Might attended, but circumstances like this gave him plenty of time to think. Especially since he couldn’t do literally anything else at the moment. Currently, he was blindfolded, with his hands tied behind his back, suspended in the air hanging from a rope that was connected to a harness, being forced to pretend to be a hostage. As much as the training scenarios were as close to real life as they could be, hanging from a singular rope tied to a ceiling was not something to be fucked around with, and Katsuki could be grateful at least that he wouldn’t get injured by his classmates’ idiocy in this shitty simulation. He wouldn’t put it past them to just cut him down without warning him so he fell flat on his face. They really were that stupid. As soon as they’d gotten him in the air, he’d wanted to get out of his restraints himself, perfectly capable of rescuing himself, but Aizawa had told him that if he didn’t play his ‘randomly’ assigned role (bullshit, Aizawa never left anything up to chance) as ‘regular citizen’, then Katsuki would lose an entire grade over it. Damn fucker was using his stellar academic record against him, and Katsuki had to admit, it was currently working. As impressed as he was that Aizawa had found something that got him to go along with this dumb exercise, Katsuki also never hated his teacher more than right now.

So, unfortunately, here he was. Hanging here, in complete silence, cut off from the world around him. God, this fucking sucked. Had to be one of the most humiliating things he’d done since getting to this school, and to make matters worse, he was so bored. The classmates who were pretending to be the villains who ‘captured’ him had left him ages ago, off fighting the heroes of the exercise, being serious fucking idiots as you should never leave a hostage alone because you don’t know what they’ll do or the heroes plan and then you lose your bargaining chip. … Sue him, he was bored, he could think both sides’ actions through, and he certainly wouldn’t have acted this dumb, and he’d win the battle against anyone assigned to be his enemy. That first fight with Deku was an outlier, and Katsuki refused to count it.

Noises caught his attention, and Katsuki hoped that this shit would be over soon. He just wanted to go to his room, make a pot of coffee, and forget today with some violent video games he could take his anger out on. Maybe if he was lucky, Kirishima would be down to play too. He always felt better after annihilating one of his friends. But then the noises shifted, and Katsuki carefully turned his head, trying to pinpoint where they were coming from without getting the rope to spin.

“Bakugou!” Dunce face. Wonderful. “Guys, I found him, come on!”

More noises followed her shout, footsteps, and he sensed the area around him fill up with people. He’d been right, as he always was, going off to the fight and leaving him alone was a dumb move by his classmates and they’d gotten their asses kicked. From what he could hear, since they still hadn’t taken off the damn blindfold, dunce face, pink cheeks, and shitty hair had come to his ‘rescue’. Joy. At least pink cheeks had some measure of sense when Deku wasn’t involved, and Kirishima would hopefully keep Kaminari from being too stupid for his own good. He supposed this was the best out of a shitty situation since he was stuck here anyways.

“So how do we get him down?” Kaminari asked. “If we just cut him down, he’ll fall.”

Katsuki bit his lip, trying to keep himself in check. The answer was so obvious Katsuki could’ve screamed.

“Ooh, Uraraka, if you float him, I can cut the rope.” Thank god, Katsuki thought that discovery was going to take them three more years as they chattered.

“On it, Kirishima!”

Five fingers came to his chest, and the horrible feeling of weightlessness infected his whole body. Katsuki had never liked pink cheeks quirk in the first place, and he hated it even more now. He hated not being in control of his own body. Katsuki bit his lip harder.

Katsuki swung a little as Kirishima sawed through the rope, and he felt it when the rope attached to his harness suddenly went limp. He floated around for a moment before he got too fed up with their idiocy.

“Let me down. Now.” Katsuki hissed, his voice as venomous as a snake.

He could tell he surprised pink cheeks in her gasp, even though they still hadn’t taken off the goddamn blindfold, but he seriously didn’t give a shit. This day was shitty enough, he didn’t need her to add to it more than necessary. He heard her speak her stupid words, she really didn’t need to say it every time, from what he could tell of her quirk, but he used the sound to prepare for the sudden fall he was about to experience.

The freefall he was expecting got interrupted by strong arms, Kirishima balancing him so he could stand on his own without falling over. Under the blindfold they still hadn’t taken off, his eye twitched. And he thought today couldn’t get any worse, but he supposed he’d underestimated just how fucking stupid these assholes were.

“What do we do now?” Kaminari said, doing fuck knows what.

“How about you untie me?” Katsuki growled, his desire to keep his grades perfect fighting with his desire to just fuck all this shit and take the fucking hit so he could be fucking done.

“I got you, bro!” Kirishima said, and Katsuki heard Kirishima’s quirk go off again. He felt a swish behind his back, and his arms were finally freed from those damn uncomfortable ropes.

“Fucking finally.” Katsuki muttered, rubbing at his wrists. “Took you idiots long enough.”

Katsuki’s hand went to the blindfold, ready to rip it off himself, when the whole building shook. He instinctively put his hands out to steady himself, and before anyone could speak, Katsuki felt the ground crack and split open, and they were all freefalling with a shout. Katsuki had a single moment to curse in his head, as apparently things could get worse, and he’d just jinxed himself. But before he could try anything that might mitigate the shit the building collapse had started, his head crashed into something hard and unyielding, sending bright sparks across his eyes before he fell into a darkness a blindfold couldn’t create. 

~~

Katsuki’s first thought as he slowly rose to consciousness was that his whole body hurt, and he didn’t know why. He could feel heavy weights pressing down on him, completely covering his right arm, left hip, and there was one pushing directly on his face. His face was sticky, his arm was sticky, and his hip was throbbing two beats faster than his heart. He groaned, trying to move to escape the weights but they kept him pinned down, his legs scraping on dust, sliding through the dirty ground like a waterslide.

“Hold on, I think I heard him.” He knew that voice. That was… that was…

Oh shit. As he heard his best friend, memories came rushing back to his mind. Putting on the harness in the unhappiest way, being lifted into the air, and Aizawa handing him the blindfold to put on before his teacher gently tied his hands behind his back. Chattering voices from his idiot classmates, who joined him only to leave him there a little while later. Other voices of different people, Kirishima cutting him down, cutting the ropes, and then the ground disappearing out from under them. The building must’ve collapsed, that’s what the weights were, debris from the cave in. And the blindfold was still on his fucking face.

Kirishima must’ve found him, because soon the weights were being lifted off of him, and he heard a soft, “fuck.” The weight on his face was lifted very slowly, gently, and fingers probed at Katsuki’s temple, and he twitched as Kirishima disturbed the dried sticky shit on his face and in his hair. He was pretty sure it was blood, but he couldn’t be sure, as who knows what kind of plumbing had been disturbed when they’d fallen. Be easier for him if it wasn’t blood, though.

“Kami, get over here, turn up the light. Bakugou’s hurt!” No shit, Kirishima. Why not say other obvious shit like they were in trouble or that they were trapped?

Kaminari must be using his quirk to have his electricity crackle around him, giving them what light they could get. Light began to penetrate his darkness, and he shut his eyes harder, the light stabbing needles into his brain. A pained gasp slipped out unconsciously, and his left arm tried to shield his eyes from the light, but Kirishima took his hand, and held it.

“Easy, bro, you took a lot of damage.” Kirishima murmured. If Kirishima kept saying super obvious things that didn’t need to be said, Katsuki was going to blow him up.

Katsuki ripped his hand out of Kirishima’s, and came to his face. Since none of these assholes would finally take off this goddamned blindfold, he was going to do it himself. But as he pushed the fabric upwards, strobe lights blinded him, his vision going white as he screamed. A hand pulled his away, the blindfold falling back into place. Firecrackers of light assaulted his mind, taking away his ability to process the world around him. Flashes of what he’d managed to see popped through his mind, Kirishima with minimal cuts and a few bruises, Kaminari’s jacket tied around Uraraka’s bloody shoulder as a tourniquet, and Kaminari was nothing but an essence of overly powerful, bright light.

“Bakugou, what’s wrong?”

All he could manage was a strained, “bright.”

Kirishima’s fingers pinched at the blindfold, putting himself in between Katsuki and Kaminari, and through the shining light setting his nerves on fire, he could see his best friend frown before putting the blindfold back. “Shit.”

“What is it, Kirishima?” Kaminari asked, sounding unsettled, like he had in the mall training. Two was enough for a pattern for Katsuki, he was going to rage at Aizawa for letting this happen to him again, and swear that he wasn’t doing anything like this again until the teachers fixed this shit so a third time never happened.

“Bakugou, I think you have a concussion or something.” Kirishima muttered, knowing to talk to him despite the fact that it had been Uraraka that had asked. Katsuki hated being talked about like he wasn’t there. “And your arm totally looks broken, dude.”

Even though Katsuki couldn’t see it, he knew Kirishima was biting the inside of his cheek. It was one of his nervous habits. But a head wound meant the stickiness on his face was blood, and that complicated shit. Adding a broken arm to the mix was a disadvantage he would struggle to get through, but Katsuki refused to let this stop him. The marathon this had been going to be had just turned into a triathlon. Fuck. Still, he could do a triathlon with his eyes closed.

Actually, he was going to have to. Katsuki could see the overpowering light still through the blindfold, but it was easier to deal with with the blindfold on. Goddammit, his day could not get any-- stop. Don’t jinx yourself again. He didn’t know how this could get worse, and he didn’t want to know. Today fucking sucked ass, he should leave it at that.

“You with us, bro?” Kirishima asked, and he realized he’d been getting talked to, but honestly he couldn’t care less.

“Yeah.” He muttered. “Just figuring out how to get us out of here.”

Since Kirishima had removed the debris, Katsuki was able to lean to his left side, using his good side to get himself up. He could practically hear Kirishima wanting to help him, but he also knew Katsuki wouldn’t accept it. His left leg was shaky, his hip screaming at him to stop, but pain was just a call he didn’t have to answer. Pain never stopped All Might, therefore it wouldn’t stop him.

But as soon as he got himself as upright as he could, a bout of dizziness hit him, and he lost his balance, crashing into Kirishima. His best friend fumbled a bit catching him, making a surprised noise, but got him standing after a moment.

“Okay, dude, I’m sorry, I know you hate this, but you can’t walk by yourself.” Kirishima said, regret lacing his words, infuriating him. Kirishima was the only one he could trust not to pity him, but he still hated needing his help. Kirishima had learned the language Katsuki spoke, to know when to ask for something because Katsuki needed it but wouldn’t say it, to brush everything off as not an issue because Katsuki didn’t want to talk about it, ever. This wasn’t his language and Katsuki growled at him, the warning sign that he was about to get his shit rocked.

But Kirishima never took his shit, so he just adjusted Katsuki so his left arm was slung around Kirishima’s shoulders. And he thought that being tied up was humiliating.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima said, lowering his voice so only he could hear. “You can’t take the blindfold off, Kami’s light is too strong for your concussion, and you can’t walk. Just this once, let me help you. Let me be your crutch.”

Oh damn him for using that shit against him. He let Deku be his crutch one time and they never let him live it down. Katsuki was going to find a reason to blow Deku up for this, whether it was a good reason or not. This was all his fault anyway.

Regardless of how he felt though, Kirishima was right. He couldn’t see, and being trapped under a bunch of debris was not something that he could get out of on his own if he was blind. He couldn’t even see what was in front of him, the light radiating off Kaminari too bright for him to see anything but blurs and blobs of where he assumed people and objects were.

It felt like swallowing broken glass, but he ground out a quiet, “fine.”

“Thanks, dude.” Kirishima whispered, wrapping his arm around Katsuki’s waist. He hobbled them over to the others, Katsuki struggling to walk in step with Kirishima since he couldn’t fucking see where the bastard was stepping. God, he just wanted today to end.

“Dude, Bakugou, you look like shit.” Kaminari exclaimed, crackling faintly.

Katsuki tried to shy away from the bright light without looking like he was doing that. “If anyone else says one more blatantly obvious thing, I’m gonna blow all three of you up.”

He heard Kaminari’s, “yeesh, sorry” but it was soon drowned out by pink cheeks.

“Hush, Bakugou. You can’t do that anyways, you’ll just make this worse, unless you want this to cave in more. Now, we need to take care of your arm. Okay, what can we use to make a sling?”

Lots of ideas were discussed, and shot down violently by Katsuki, but eventually he allowed Kirishima to take the harness off and use that, Katsuki using his good arm on Kirishima’s shoulder to keep himself upright. Katsuki refused to let any noise of pain out again, but internally he was screaming as Kirishima moved. Oh yeah, his arm was definitely broken, it felt like almost a Deku level of broken, and when Kirishima finally stopped and took his waist again, Katsuki was trying to minimize his heavy panting and shove down the tears in his eyes.

“Here, Kirishima, I can make Bakugou float so it’s not as hard for you to carry him.” Uraraka said, way too chipper for what she was saying.

Katsuki felt a flash of panicked anger ignite in his chest. Not being in control of his body when he was trapped and blind was a step too far, and he didn’t care what it meant for him to refuse it. He’d rather drag his own ass out of here on his own, completely blind, then have the last thing he had taken from him. Control over his body was something he refused external assistance for, and he would not let her steal that from him, he didn’t care how hurt he was.

Sensing her fingers as they began to brush his skin, Katsuki kicked out at her. “Don’t touch me!”

He must have connected with Kaminari accidentally, as he got a static shock from it, but the “ow!” Kaminari made made up for it a little.

“Bakugou! Don’t kick me!” Pink cheeks squealed, which just made his resolve stronger. He ignored Kaminari’s, “don’t kick me either!”

“Then don’t fucking touch me.”

“Come on, man.” Kirishima said in his ear. “We need to get out of here.”

“I’m not letting that bitch touch me.” Katsuki growled back.

Pink cheeks made an affronted shout, but Kirishima was quick to understand what Katsuki was actually saying, that her quirk was off limits.

“He doesn’t mean it, Uraraka,” uh, yes the fuck he did, “but I’ve got him. He’s not heavy to me.”

Somehow Katsuki got a sappy vibe from that comment and he promptly ignored it.

“If you say so, Kirishima.” Uraraka said, doing that stupid pouty face she made when she was trying to be serious. He didn’t have to see it, he could hear it just fine.

“Come on guys, let’s get out of here.” Kirishima said, and they started walking. “There’s a path, Bakugou, if there’s anything you can trip on, I’ll handle it.”

Kirishima kept to the back, not leaving Kaminari’s light but also trying to keep as much of it off Katsuki as he could. This is why Kirishima was his best friend, even though he hadn’t actually wanted a best friend when he came to this school. But Kirishima understood him, helped without helping, didn’t shove his weakness back in Katsuki’s face. When they got back, he supposed he could make too much gyūdon and give the other bits to Kirishima for this. He supposed it’s been a while since he had that, and he could just randomly have a craving for a meatier dish.

The more they walked, the more Katsuki couldn’t help leaning on Kirishima. Each step with his left foot sent another bolt of pure agony to his hip, and every step with his right jostled his arm, and Katsuki’s head was already swimming from so much movement that he could barely keep track of the world beyond the pain. With the blindfold keeping the torturous light away, he couldn’t see the worried looks his friends were shooting him, only being able to sense a tension rising in the air, unable to place where it was coming from. It was strangely quiet as they walked, which unsettled him. Kaminari usually was a motor mouth, Katsuki always had to yell at him to be quiet. But now, no one was talking, and that didn’t seem right.

Suddenly, the light stopped, and they all froze.

“Kaminari!” Pink cheeks shrieked, the sound sending another bolt from his ear to his brain, and then back. He couldn’t be worried about Kaminari for a minute, he was so wrapped up in agony.

He heard knees and hands hit the floor along with winded gasps. Kaminari must have been pushing the limits of his control, his quirk more suited for attacks rather than support, keeping the volts so close to him had been exhausting him. As worried as he wouldn’t admit he was for his idiot, he was more worried that this would make dunce face go into whey mode. Not only would they lose what little light they had, but Katsuki wouldn’t be the only one out of commission, and Katsuki didn’t think their little group could take much more.

“I’m okay.” Kaminari panted, and the light started up again, but it was duller. “I’ll be fine. Plus ultra, right?”

The light was so dull in comparison to what Kaminari had before, that he reached around Kirishima’s neck, strangling him a little but for a good reason, and he peeled back the blindfold for a moment. It was still too bright, driving icepicks into his brain, but he could make out his friends now. Uraraka had knelt down to Kaminari’s level, and Kaminari was trembling, but from what Katsuki wasn’t sure. To let Kirishima breathe, he let go.

“Take a breather, man, you’ve been going for like, forever.” Kirishima said, and again the light went out, as the sound of shifting echoed in the darkness.

Katsuki never liked darkness, not that he was afraid of it like a baby or anything, but he never liked being able to see what and who was around him. Especially since… well. He supposed both. Kamino had only added onto what had happened with the sludge villain. But being plunged into darkness now wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, and he was glad to hear Kaminari’s breath evening out.

Standing was becoming unbearable as they waited for Kaminari to be ready again. His left leg was trembling fiercely, and his right wasn’t doing much better. His arm was still against his chest, but just being upright was making him dizzy, the world spinning painfully, like being stabbed into a ceiling fan as it rotated. At this point, Katsuki was standing on pure willpower alone. He wouldn’t fall, he already had to lean on Kirishima, he wouldn’t embarrass himself further and fucking fall. He wasn’t Deku, clumsy as fuck and idiotic. He. wouldn’t. fall.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Kaminari said, though they could all hear the exhaustion still in his voice. But the relief Katsuki felt might’ve slipped through, as Kirishima adjusted his hold a little, taking on more of Katsuki’s weight.

The sound of electricity crackled in the air, the light reappearing. It wasn’t as bright as when Katsuki had first woken up, but it was better than Kaminari’s second attempt. Still too bright for him to take off the blindfold, but instead of thirty icepicks digging violently into his brain, now there were only twenty.

Katsuki realized he’d been wrong before, standing wasn’t agony, but continuing to walk now was excruciating, so much worse than standing. His steps shuffled a little, his mind unable to send the signal to lift them up all the way, and Kirishima had to take more of his weight. He was practically carrying Katsuki by his waist, Kirishima’s arm wrapped almost all the way around.

A rumbling sound in the distance.

“Did you hear that?”

“That sounded like--”

The rumbling got closer. Katsuki could just barely make out the sound of roof cracking under too much stress.

“Shit, run!”

Footsteps took off, but instead of his own following, Katsuki felt Kirishima shove him to the ground, cracking his head again on the hard ground, and he just barely felt Kirishima’s hardening activate before he passed out again.

With every breath he took, he felt his chest brush something stiff, and he could hear heavy breaths that weren’t his own.

“Shitty hair.” Katsuki moaned out, coming back to consciousness for the second time that day. Honestly he was just pissed off at this point, he hadn’t even jinxed them this time!

“Hey, Bakubro.” Kirishima said, and the awful sounds of rocks shifting and falling to the ground echoed too loudly in his ears. “Was a little worried I put you down too hard.”

“Fucking threw me.” Katsuki groaned, opening his eyes to darkness. His heart beat a little quicker. “Where’s dunce face? ‘S dark.”

“I’m not sure.” Kirishima sighed. “I knew I could only protect you with my quirk, so I told them to run. They did. Hopefully they outran the collapse.”

Katsuki did hope they outran the collapse. He was no doubt someone was coming after them, but it was probably the other idiots in their class. Aizawa hadn’t even set foot in the mall when it collapsed. And knowing his idiots, it would take them two days to find a sponge in a sink. With Kaminari and Uraraka trapped alongside them, it would be even harder to find them.

God, he just wanted to go to bed.

“Bakugou, wake up, hey don’t sleep.” Kirishima suddenly said, shaking him a little.

Katsuki let out a noise that meant that hurt and if Kirishima did it again, he’d regret it.

“Sorry, bro, but you can’t sleep.” Kirishima said. “I don’t know what’s going on with your head right now, but I don’t think it’s safe for you to sleep.”

Shit. He hadn’t been trying to fall asleep, he must have been passing out. That was a problem.

“What… what does this shit look like?”

“What shit?”

Katsuki’s good arm grabbed Kirishima’s face awkwardly, and rolled it around, trying to gesture to the space around them. He stopped when he heard the debris.

“Oh.” If rolling his eyes wasn’t painful, he would’ve. He settled for huffing. “I don’t know. I can’t see anything either. I can feel the debris on my back, but it keeps shifting around when I breathe. But don’t worry, I can keep this up for a while, you’re safe, bro, I got you.”

Right, Kaminari had been their only light source. He hadn’t really been worried about his safety, he’d wanted to be able to crawl out of here. But that wasn’t happening apparently. They were just stuck here until someone found them.

“Hey, Bakugou?”

“Mm.”

“Do you ever think about death?”

“Hah?!” Kirishima’s voice was way too blasé for this subject. “The fuck kinda question is that?”

“I’m trying to keep you awake and that was the first thing I came up with!” Katsuki heard Kirishima’s blush in his explanation. If he wasn’t hardened, he’d have gotten a smack for that. Katsuki just kept telling himself that rolling his eyes would hurt, rolling his eyes would hurt, don’t do that.

“Think of something better!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

There was a beat of silence. Katsuki groaned. God his friends were stupid.

“Are you and Midoriya exes or something?”

And he thought the death one was bad. “Excuse the fuck me? Has he been saying that? I’m going to fucking murder him!”

“No, no he hasn’t!” Kirishima said, saving Deku’s life, for now. “He’s never said that, or implied that or anything. We all just… we just wonder why you hate him so much. Like, I know you hate pretty much everybody, but your hatred for him is intense, dude. So we all kinda have a sort of bet going on, trying to figure out why. Couple of people think it was because you two dated and then had a bad break-up, especially since he knows so much about you.”

Katsuki blinked. That was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard, and he’d known Deku for over ten years. Holy fuck.

“Shut down this ‘bet’, shitty hair, you all can stop fucking guessing.” Katsuki snarled.

“Oh yeah?” Kirishima perked up. “You gonna tell me?”

“No.” Somehow Kirishima deflated without moving. “First off, you assholes can stay the fuck out of my business, it makes no fucking difference to you why I hate him.”

“Yeah but we like Midoriya.” Kirishima sighed. “And we like you. We thought maybe if we could figure out why you hate him, we could help fix it.”

Katsuki supposed it was well-intentioned, but the idea still made his skin crawl. His relationship with Deku was his own, and… he didn’t want to think about it. His head already hurt too much.

“You can’t fix it, shitty hair.” Katsuki sighed. “None of you can. It’s only between us. Personal. Though if you could get him to stop crying every other second, that might help.”

Kirishima laughed breathlessly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

It was quiet for a minute.

“Does it… bother you, that I don’t like him?” Katsuki didn’t like how unsure his voice was, and he fully blamed it on the nondescript head wound.

“Bother, no, but it kinda makes me sad.” Kirishima said, shrugging and then freezing as more debris shifted. “I mean, you’re my best bro, and Midoriya’s a good bro, and it kinda sucks that we can’t like hang out together or do fun stuff. But if you don’t like him, I’m not going to force you to do stuff with him. You’re allowed to not like people. We’ll all just hang out separately.”

Katsuki couldn’t name the emotion in his chest, and he refused to try.

“You know, you could do better.” Katsuki said. “You’re one of the only idiots in our class who’s somewhat tolerable.”

“Aww, I love you too, Bakubro.” Kirishima chirped, and Katsuki’s eyes widened. “It’s not like that though, we’re just friends.”

“I didn’t fucking say that.”

“Maybe not in those words.” Kirishima said. “But I know you.”

“Not well enough apparently.” Katsuki muttered. “I didn’t fucking say that. I don’t say that shit to anyone, let alone you.”

“Aww, Bakubro!” Kirishima whined, and Katsuki knew he was wearing the stupid smile he was always wearing when he teased Katsuki. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“That was the intent, yes.”

Kirishima laughed, and the echo died in the walls of fallen debris around them.

“How’s your quirk?”

“I’ll be alright, Bakugou.” Kirishima said, and Katsuki could hear the strain Kirishima was trying to hide from him. “I’ve got you. I can keep this up a while longer.”

Katsuki didn’t doubt that, Kirishima had already risked his life for Katsuki once, it didn’t surprise him that he’d do it again and again. He was a good friend.

Silence followed for a moment.

“Bakugou, you still alive?” Kirishima asked.

“Mhm.” Bakugou murmured. “If I die, I’ll let you know.”

Kirishima huffed a strained laugh. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

The tiniest shines of light then filtered through the cracks of the debris. A spark of hope ignited in both of them. A muffled voice echoed through.

“Kaminari? Uraraka?” Kirishima shouted, and Bakugou whimpered. Damn, that hurt. He understood its necessity, but goddamn that hurt.

The voices got stronger, and so did the light. The debris was being shifted around, pink cheeks obviously using her quirk to move the debris safely. Thank fuck.

“Kirishima?” Kaminari’s voice rang through, and Bakugou just groaned quietly. That seemed to be answer enough, as he heard a, “I can hear them!”

Debris began to move quicker, and the light kept getting stronger, a pocket shining through. Katsuki didn’t have to see the head popping through to know that Kaminari was able to see them now.

“How buried am I?” Kirishima asked. “Can you see it?”

“Yeah I can see it, sheesh man, you’re under a lot of rock.” Kaminari said. “But Uraraka should be able to get you out, bro. Just give us a little time.”

“Thanks, bro.”

Without a watch but with a head wound, Bakugou couldn’t tell how it took them to move the debris, and the sounds sort of amalgamated into a noisy blur that he couldn’t quite distinguish. Eventually, he felt the chest he constantly brushed as he breathed disappear, and he could hear Kirishima shift around without the debris falling off of him. A hand came to his shoulder, but thankfully didn’t shake him. 

“You still alive, bro?” Kirishima whispered.

“I haven’t told you I’m dead yet so what do you think?”

Kirishima laughed quietly. “Come on, Kaminari unburied me. We can stand up now.”

Ah shit. This was going to be hard, but Bakugou couldn’t back down now. He hoped that what sort of rest he’d gotten laying down would allow him to be able to stand again.

Okay. He could do this. He’d stand if it killed him.

His left was already trembling as he tried to push himself up, his hip screaming at him to stop moving as he moved his body. Instead of even trying to lose his left leg, he put all his weight on his right, but using his left arm and right leg to stand wasn’t working, and he could feel Kirishima’s hands begin to touch his shoulders. Dammit, he didn’t need fucking help!

Putting any weight on his left leg suddenly became the stupidest decision he’d ever made, as it hadn’t even been three seconds before he was crying out in pain and falling back to the ground.

Several versions of his name rang out in almost perfect unison, hands touching all over, and he just groaned. Today had to be one of the shittiest days of his life. At this point, he’d rather just pass out so he didn’t have to deal with this anymore.

“Bakugou, are you alright?” Kirishima’s voice finally made a sentence instead of just an exclamation.

“Stop fucking touching me and I might be.” Katsuki hissed, and four of the hands retracted themselves. The other two belonged to Kirishima, but he couldn’t see where his friend was to smack him with his good arm.

“Please don’t hate me for this, Bakubro, but you’re too hurt.” Kirishima said, and one hand stayed under his shoulder and the other moved to his knees.

Shit, wait, no, he wasn’t ready-- Kirishima lifted him into the air, and his hip screamed through his voice. The sound he made didn’t even sound like him. The versions of his name were shouted at him again, pounding his head so hard he could barely process their words.

“Hip.” Katsuki panted, finally taking control back of his voice from his hip.

“Dude, what do you mean?” Kirishima asked. “What’s going on?”

“Left hip.” Katsuki gasped. “Been broken since I woke up.”

“Dude!” Kirishima shouted and Katsuki grimaced. “I-- sorry, bro, but why didn’t you say anything? We’ve been walking with you this whole time!”

“Could handle it.” Katsuki groaned.

“Bullshit, Bakugou.” Kirishima snapped, and he sounded angrier than Katsuki had ever heard before. “Look, dude, walking with a head wound and broken arm is one thing. Walking on a broken hip is another. Kaminari, Uraraka, you two keep going. I’m gonna stay here with Bakugou.”

“I said I can handle it.” Katsuki said, trying to push out of Kirishima’s arms. Kirishima just held him tighter.

“I don’t care what you say, Bakugou.” Kirishima snarled. He was beginning to sound like Katsuki.

“Kirishima, are you sure?” Uraraka asked. “If we go, you’ll be completely in the dark.”

“I’ll be fine.” Kirishima said. Bastard even had the audacity to ignore Katsuki’s “I’m already fine.” and continue on like he hadn’t said anything. “Seriously guys. You go ahead. I can protect him with my quirk if anything else happens. We need help, now, and you two are our best chance at getting it. We won’t go anywhere, so you’ll know where you left us. It’ll be okay.”

Katsuki could hear the worried looks his friends exchanged, but they said their goodbyes and footsteps started to fade.

Kirishima knelt to the ground, and placed him down flat on the ground. He heard a bit of shifting before Kirishima pulled Katsuki’s head into his lap. It was somewhat comfortable, the darkness keeping Kirishima from seeing Katsuki’s unhappy blush. A soft hand came to his hair, brushing softly through his spikes, and that helped his headache better than the lack of light.

“You’re such a liar sometimes, Katsuki.”

Kirishima’s voice was soft, but the emotion in it was just as strong. Caught off guard by the sudden use of his given name, Katsuki barely managed a confused, “No I’m not.”

“Yes the fuck you are.” Kirishima snapped. “Saying you can handle walking on a broken hip when you can’t see and you can’t even catch yourself if you fall because of your arm. No one can do that, not even you. I can’t believe you sometimes, hiding that from us. From me. Seriously, Katsuki, how could you be so stupid?”

“I wasn’t being stupid!” Katsuki growled.

“Walking on a broken hip is stupid.” Kirishima insisted. “You know better! If it were me, you wouldn’t let me walk on it. You would’ve made Uraraka use her quirk on me so I didn’t put weight on it. What’s wrong with you, Katsuki? Why the hell did you do that?”

Even though they were arguing, the soft hand in his hair didn’t change its rhythm.

The pout on Katsuki’s face also matched the blush spreading to his ears. He wasn’t sure about how he felt about Kirishima using his given name, and he didn’t think he could figure it out with the headache that was trying to resist the comfort from Kirishima’s fingers.

“All Might worked for years with a hole in his side.” Katsuki pouted. “I could make it for one fucking day. It’s just pain.”

“Yeah, but you’re not All Might.” Kirishima said, and Katsuki bristled. “You’re not! You’re gonna be the number one one day, I’m sure of it, but you’re not there yet. And walking on a broken hip is a good way to make sure you never get there. What if you damaged your hip permanently?”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Katsuki grumbled. “I know when to stop before it gets that bad.”

“No, you don’t.” Kirishima refuted. “If you knew when to stop, you would’ve told me about your broken hip right when you woke up. Come on, man, I’m supposed to be your best friend. Why didn’t you at least tell me?”

“Not like I can keep a secret here.” Katsuki muttered. “If I’d said anything, then those two extras would’ve overheard, and pink cheeks would’ve used her stupid quirk on me again.”

“She was trying to help you.” Kirishima sighed.

“I don’t need her fucking help.” Katsuki seethed. Clenching his jaw made stars appear over his eyes, so he forced himself to ungrit his teeth. “I don’t want her fucking touching me. I don’t want anyone fucking touching me.”

“I’m touching you.”

Katsuki pouted again. “It’s different.”

“Because I’m ‘tolerable’?” Kirishima asked, with just the hint of a smirk. Bastard.

“Somewhat tolerable.” Katsuki huffed. “Just because you’re not literally the worst doesn’t mean you’re actually tolerable.”

“Uh-huh.” Kirishima said, not believing him at all. Damn bastard. “I don’t know what it is that makes you like this, but come on, Katsuki. Keeping us out when it comes to shit like this is only gonna turn around and bite you in the ass. I mean, look at us now. You can’t move, you still can’t even see even if it wasn’t dark, and now I have to stay here with you so you don’t die or get crushed or something.”

“You don’t need to rub it in.” Katsuki snapped.

“I’m not.” Kirishima sighed. “You’re my best friend, Katsuki. I don’t want to see you hurt, and just be stuck watching as you purposefully make yourself worse to prove some sort of point. I don’t even know who you’re proving it to, none of us care that you can’t walk on a broken hip.”

“I care.” Katsuki said. “I’m not like those extras who whine and cry every time they get a tiny scratch. They’ll never even make it to the top twenty with that attitude.”

“And you think you’ll make it to the top twenty if you constantly ignore your body?” Kirishima snapped back. “You constantly yell at Midoriya because he’s always breaking his bones all the time, and yet you do something like this!”

“It’s different!” Katsuki repeated.

“Ugh, no it’s not!” Kirishima groused. “What are you trying to prove, Katsuki? That you have absolutely no regard for your own well-being?”

“That I’m strong enough on my own.” Katsuki hissed.

The hand that had been softly running through his hair disappeared, and he refused to miss it. It came to his cheek, a softer touch than Katsuki would’ve suspected for how strong Kirishima was, and how mad at him he was.

“What if someone wants to be with you?” Kirishima asked softly, his thumb brushing up and down his cheek. “What if someone wants to stand by your side, to be there as you shoot to the top, wants to help you get there by calling you out on your bullshit, wants to hold you when you have nightmares, wants to have your back, wants to help prop you up when you can’t see or stand?”

Katsuki blinked.

“What was that middle one?”

“Wants to help you get there by calling you out on your bullshit.” Kirishima said. That hadn’t been the middle one he’d been talking about, but he let it go. Maybe he’d just misheard. “And that? That was bullshit.”

Katsuki huffed. “Okay maybe… maybe it wasn’t my smartest decision.”

“No shit, sherlock.” Kirishima muttered. Katsuki ignored that.

“I didn’t figure it would be such a big deal. It’s just pain. Pain is a call I don’t have to answer. I’m not weak, pain isn’t that big of a deal.”

“Your pain is a big deal to me.” Kirishima said. “Just because you acknowledge you’re in pain doesn’t mean that you’re weak.”

“The pros get hurt all the time in the field.” Katsuki retorted. “If they can rise above and keep moving when they’re hurt, then I can too.”

“You know, when we went on the Shie Hassaikai raid,” Kirishima said slowly, obviously thinking about his every word, “I passed out after that fight with Rappa.”

“You told me about that.” Katsuki said, unsure of where this was going.

“Yeah I did.” Kirishima said. “That fight took everything out of me. I had more cuts and bruises than I could physically count. And you know what Fat Gum did?”

A beat.

“He took me out of the fight.” Kirishima answered himself. “He found a place where we could be as safe as possible, and he got me medical help. I didn’t rejoin the fight after that. Fat Gum didn’t either. He stayed with me, kept me safe.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything to that.

“So why is it that Fast Gum, the actual pro, takes pain into consideration when making decisions, making sure that the people he was with were protected, but you, the teenager, don’t?”

“You were unconscious, I wasn’t.” Katsuki deflected. “I keep telling you, it’s different.”

“I wasn’t unconscious the entire time.” Kirishima shot back. “I woke up before Overhaul destroyed the street. And Fat Gum still stayed with me. Helped me get to the ambulances, even went with me to the hospital. He didn’t go back into the fight, he just stayed with me until I was taken care of. And he’s a genuine pro.”

Katsuki refused to answer his unspoken question.

“I think you’re running out of reasons why it’s different, Katsuki.” Kirishima said.

“Fuck you.” Katsuki snarled. “And why the fuck are you all of a sudden using my given name? I didn’t say you could do that.”

“You’re deflecting again.” Kirishima called out. “Give me a reason, dammit. A real reason. Why is it so different?”

“Because it’s me!” Katsuki shouted back. “I have to do this.”

“Dammit, why?”

“Because I have to be good enough!” Katsuki shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.

A choked noise of pain followed, and Katsuki lost track of reality as his world became nothing but unending agony, the pain so overwhelming that he couldn’t even be sure that he was breathing. It felt like it went on for three separate lifetimes, drowning him in a torment so excruciating he didn’t think he could ever describe it in words.

Shaky breaths were the first thing he became aware of when the pain finally began to subside. The fingers on his cheek were in his hair again, lightly dragging their nails across his scalp, and he clung to that feeling as his only salvation as he managed to get through the final assaults of the pain.

“Katsuki?” Kirishima’s voice was so quiet that Katsuki barely heard it.

Katsuki made the quietest noise he’d ever made in his life in response. He only just now realized he was crying, tears running rivers down his cheeks.

“You’re good enough, Katsuki.” Kirishima whispered. “You don’t have to kill yourself like this to prove you’re good enough. You’re good enough on your own, Katsuki.”

Katsuki couldn’t even think of a response, the pain had completely cut his voice off.

“It’s gonna be okay, Katsuki.” Kirishima kept going when he didn’t say anything. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re enough, you’re good enough. You’ll be okay. It’s alright. Yound soonna breathing, it’s okay, you’re gon it’s okay. Yound soon it’s alright. You’reat.”

The hell? Katsuki was completely losing track of what Kirishima was saying. The fifty icepicks in his brain were beating a drum beat that went two beats faster than his heart. When his mind tried to understand what Kirishima said, he just got indecipherable static in return. Darkness was slowly beginning to encroach around his mind, easing the pain by just trapping him in shadow.

“Omatsuki! Matsuki?” Katsuki couldn’t even feel Kirishima shaking him now, his mind so wrapped up in shadow. “Comake uke Kaki! Wake mase uple. Come Kaki!”

Kirishima was shaking him harder now, his voice insistent and desperate, but Katsuki couldn’t feel a bit of it. The shadow that stole him from consciousness to ease the pain had already put him completely under, the darkness of unconsciousness swallowing him whole.

Something was different. He couldn’t tell exactly what, but something was different.

Voices surrounded him, voices that hadn’t been the people he’d been stuck with. The only one out of the cacophony that he could properly pick out was Kirishima. Oh! That’s what was different! He wasn’t in Kirishima’s lap anymore, with no fingers running through his hair. That had felt really good, he was a little sad that Kirishima had stopped. It had really helped with the pain. That… he was no longer in. His hip was still throbbing, his arm still ached, but his head was kinda floaty, and that helped drown out everything else. What was going on? Katsuki tried to ask, but all that came out was a soft groan.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima must have heard him. “Hey, Bakugou, you back with us?”

He made a small, affirmative noise.

“There you are.” Kirishima chuckled breathlessly. “I was getting worried you’d sleep through the whole rescue.”

“Dum’ass.” Katsuki mumbled.

Katsuki could hear Kirishima’s relieved smile. The soft hand that was in his hair came to his cheek again. Unconsciously, he leaned into it.

“You really scared me, Katsuki.” Kirishima’s voice dropped, shaky and scared. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Hah?” Katsuki replied, and he tried to get his head on straight, get away from whatever was making him feel all floaty.

“Shh, it’s okay, Katsuki.” Kirishima said, his thumb running up and down Katsuki’s cheek again. “You’re gonna be alright now. Everything’s okay.”

“You?”

“I’m okay too, Katsuki.” Kirishima murmured, but he didn’t quite sound it. “I asked Recovery Girl, she said it was okay for you to sleep.”

Katsuki made an uncertain noise. “Don’t, sound, okay.”

“Yeah, well, when you think someone you love just died in your arms, you don’t sound okay for a little while.”

Katsuki couldn’t think for a moment, and it had nothing to do with his head being floaty. Loved? Kirishima loved him? Sure, they were best friends, Kirishima was the closest friend he’d ever had, but that didn’t mean anything. Katsuki had walked away from his friends from middle school without even thinking, he’d realized he didn’t care whether they were around him or not. They weren’t good for him, encouraging him to do shit he shouldn’t, and they were just lackeys who followed him because he was the biggest fish in their little pond. He’d figured that… he’d figured that all friends were like that. That that was why Kirishima had forced his way into Katsuki’s life, that that was why all of Kirishima’s friends had followed suit. He’d made it clear on day one that he was one of the most powerful students in this class, even if he hadn’t done it in the best of ways. The USJ incident had been a better judge of his power, and his character. He hadn’t been able to lose Kirishima after that, and as soon as Kirishima had deemed him acceptable, the rest of the Bakusquad followed suit. But he’d never thought that Kirishima had deemed him acceptable because he’d cared about Katsuki, just that Kirishima thought he could use Katsuki to get ahead, and the squad followed because he could keep them afloat academically. The invitations to movie nights, playing video games, hanging out outside of school, and now caring when he got hurt, he’d thought that was just pretenses. That they didn’t care whether he showed up or not, that if they found someone who could do what he did (who had a better attitude) they’d walk away from him without thought. Did all of the Bakusquad feel that way? When he could think properly, he had to give this a ridiculous amount of thought.

“Shh, just go to sleep, Katsuki.” Kirishima said, somehow sensing that Katsuki’s mind was going a million miles an hour. “We’ll talk later. Sleep.”

Even though it was Shinsou who could control minds, Katsuki’s mind still seemed to shut down when Kirishima told it too, only just now noticing that he was completely exhausted. The soft touch to his cheek continued, gently settling him into a comfortable sleep.

And goddammit, he was still wearing that goddamn blindfold.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Connor & Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Gavin Reed, Tina Chen & Gavin Reed Characters: Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson, Gavin Reed, Tina Chen (Detroit: Become Human) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Whumptober 2024, Blood and Injury, Blood Loss, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human) Series: Part 1 of sevenlemen Whumptober 2024 Summary:

#1 Race Against the Clock/#17 Nowhere Else to Go. Connor is trapped alone and bleeding out.

Whumptober days 17-20 - "Stay with me"; Muffled Scream; Asphyxiation; Trembling

A combination fill for @whumptober2019​, since I’ve been absent for a few days. It’s a bit longer, so I’ve added a read-more line. Be careful of the triggers that start showing up after that line - there’s some fairly graphic violence, including murder, in this story. Also available on Ao3.

----- ----- -----

It happened so suddenly that there wasn’t anything to do. One moment, it was a regular day where they were calmly wandering the streets, discussing where they should go for dinner.

The next, there was a dart sticking out of Bucky’s neck and he was fading fast.

Reacting quickly, Tony made sure he didn’t hit the ground too roughly as he fell unconscious, pressing the alert button on the side of his watch at the same time. Considering the efficiency, it wasn’t likely to get them help in time, but at least the others would know something was up and hopefully manage to get something set up.

When the men got out of the van, they were wearing masks to make sure they were unrecognizable. But Tony knew that insignia, knew he couldn’t let HYDRA get Bucky back. Not like this.

So he fought, going at them with everything he had. It became clear that they weren’t after him, not at all - if he’d let them, they’d have dragged Bucky with them and left Tony right there on the street to look after them and worry. But he didn’t let that happen, using every single technique any of the other Avengers had ever taught him to make sure he did not get separated from Bucky.

In the end, realizing they needed to get away, they cursed and threw him into the van as well, into the same cage that had been intended for just Bucky.

It was a tight fit, and it left Tony unable to fight them any more as they locked it behind them, but at least he was still with Bucky. And as long as they were together, they could figure out some way to escape, hopefully.

(And if not, well, Tony wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he’d just let them take Bucky.)

Even though he’d been prepared for it, it still hurt when they dragged him out of the cage, prepared as they were for his resistance and too many of them around to fight. He curled into himself as they kicked at him, trying to keep them from getting at his chest and face. Silently, he suspected some of them were getting in some revenge for some of the hits he’d managed earlier.

He knew there wouldn’t be anything he could do, not if they decided to drag him away. There might only have been five of them earlier, that had to deal with getting Bucky off the street as quickly as possible and that also had to contend with Tony’s fighting, but they had a lot more time and a lot more people now.

So he was grateful when he was dragged to the same room Bucky was, though they handcuffed him to the cot in there while they put Bucky’s unconscious body on the other side, where some special (and probably super-strength resistant) cuffs had been attached to the wall.

Unfortunately, they didn’t leave them alone. Instead, there were three men standing inside the door and no doubt some reserve outside.

It could have been anywhere between a few minutes to an hour before Bucky started stirring - considering his tension, Tony honestly couldn’t tell, and it wasn’t like it was really important anyway.

The moment Bucky opened his eyes, one of the men started speaking. “Желание… Ржавый…”

“No,” he groaned, shaking his head. It was obvious he was still affected by whatever they’d used to knock him out, since he barely even managed to struggle against the chains like he obviously wanted.

“Семнадцать…”

“Bucky, stay with me,” Tony implored, even though he knew it probably wouldn’t help. Not if they had the trigger words. “Stay with me, please.”

As much as he didn’t think it would help, clearly HYDRA thought differently. He grunted as one of them hit him, hard, making his head smack into the cot roughly. Then, before he could even try to get Bucky’s attention again, the other shoved a gag into his mouth.

“Рассвет…”

Though his words were muffled through the gag, Tony didn’t give up on trying to get Bucky’s attention, calling out his name. It seemed to be working when, rather than weakly struggling against the chains, Bucky looked at him instead, eyes pained.

“Печь…”

Unfortunately, HYDRA seemed to notice as much as well. Before Tony could even try to avoid it, a solid boot came down on his lower leg. He couldn’t help but scream into the gag as he could feel the bones breaking.

“Девять…”

His breathing came in gasps, made more difficult by the gag blocking his airways and his eyes and nose filling up due to the pain. He refused to cry, though, refused to give Goons One and Two the satisfaction. Instead, he clenched his teeth around the gag, trying his best to steady his breathing so he wouldn’t end up suffocating.

“Добросердечный…”

Bucky was trying to pull out his chains one more, except now it was to get to Tony. There was no doubt he could still hear the words the asshole was saying, but it wasn’t something he was focusing on anymore.

“Возвращение на Родину…”

It took everything Tony had not to whimper at the pain rushing through him in time with his heartbeat. Instead, stubbornly, he locked eyes with Bucky, saying everything he couldn’t through the gag in his mouth. You can do this. I’m here for you. Please stay with me. Don’t let them take you again. We can do this. I am not leaving you.

“Один…”

 Please, Bucky… Don’t leave me, either.

“Грузовой вагон…”

Considering how warm Bucky’s eyes usually were, it was eerie to see how flat they went the moment those final words were spoken. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar - the inquisitive look was still obviously there, though less curious and more analytical. His face had gone still as well, no emotion allowed to shine through anymore.

More than his broken leg, the broken look in Bucky’s eyes made Tony want to cry, and he trembled with the effort not to. It had taken so long to get him comfortable around the Avengers, to get him to trust that HYDRA wouldn’t just be able to get a hold on him again, and here they were.

And there was nothing Tony could do except hope that there was something of Bucky left, enough that it would make HYDRA lose their hold on him enough.

“Солдат?” It was the asshole that had been saying the trigger words out loud, not happy with being ignored.

Some of Tony’s hope died when Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier - instantly replied. “Я готов отвечать.” His voice was nearly as flat as his eyes, though Tony couldn’t help but notice how those gray eyes flicked back to him briefly before focusing once again on the guy that should be able to command him now.

Tony wanted to smack the smirk off the HYDRA asshole’s face, but had to settle for a glare that could have burned him alive.

“Very good,” Asshole said, grinning as he looked straight at Tony. He was fully confident he had Bucky under control now, as evidenced by the fact that he walked straight over to undo the cuffs. Disappointingly, Bucky did not spontaneously attack him, instead standing up slowly.

His normal grace was still obvious, though much like everything else, it seemed more calculated now. There was no unnecessary movement, no casual twitches, no tapping his thumb against his fingers the way Bucky usually did when standing still (or tapping his fingers against Tony’s hand when he was holding it).

“Now…” Tony really didn’t like the look in Asshole’s eyes as he looked down at him. “Break his other leg.”

He couldn’t help his slight flinch at that, no matter how much he didn’t want to show weakness. The broken leg was painful enough on its own, but the idea of Bucky being the one to break the other one…

For a few long moments, the Winter Soldier just looked at him, assessing. Then, just as calmly, he turned to his ‘handler’. “Нет.”

It felt like everyone in the room stopped breathing at that, tension rising quickly. Never before had the Winter Soldier outright refused, not like this, and it was clear HYDRA had no idea how to deal with it.

To be fair, neither did Tony, but since no one was breaking his other leg, he was fine riding this one out from the side.

“What!?” Tony honestly could have told Asshole that getting pissed at the Winter Soldier might not be the best idea when he didn’t seem to have full control of him, but clearly that hadn’t occurred to him. And Tony himself was too busy trying to breathe through his pain to be able to do all that much. “I said, break his other leg!”

Before any of them could even react, the Winter Soldier had moved, metal hand closing around Asshole’s neck.

Goons One and Two jumped into motion, but not nearly quick enough. The Soldier grabbed the gun from the guy’s belt, shooting both of them straight through the forehead before they’d even been able to aim their own guns.

In the meantime, he was still choking Asshole, who was starting to look increasingly purple as he tried to grab at the Soldier’s metal arm. It had no effect, its strength far too much for a regular human to be able to do anything against it, and slowly his struggles grew weaker.

Tony couldn’t say he felt any regret when Asshole joined Goons One and Two on the floor. He wasn’t too sure what to do about the Winter Soldier, though, who appraised him carefully before approaching.

He tried to still his trembling as much as possible - the Soldier had said no, had refused to listen to the guy who’d just recited all of his code words, and had just taken all of them no. After being told to hurt Tony. So he tried to remind himself as much as possible that the Soldier, despite everything else, had just refused to hurt him.

The Soldier was astonishingly gentle as he took the gag out of Tony’s mouth, kneeling down so they were at almost the same height. Then, without saying a word, he looked down at the cuffs keeping Tony tied to the cot and yanked, ripping them loose from the cot without hurting Tony’s wrists.

Before he could even start to think of what to say or do, the Soldier himself spoke up, sounding far more hesitant than he had before.. “Лучик?”

He couldn’t help his blush at that. Being called a ray of sunshine by the Winter Soldier was about the last thing he’d been expecting. “What’s up, Winter Wonderland?” he asked, trying for casual. The fact that he sounded like his throat had been sandpapered probably didn’t help, but he thought he pulled it off admirably.

And when the Soldier said “я готов отвечать” again, it sounded less strained and more like he was choosing to let Tony be the one to decide.

It was the biggest show of trust Tony could’ve ever imagined, and he was determined not to let the Soldier down. Not after what he’d just done for Tony, after making his own decision and turning away from HYDRA for Tony. And when they got back to the rest of the Avengers, they were going to figure this entire thing out, Tony and Bucky and the Soldier together.

They’d figure it out.

*takes a nap*

Summary:

After attempting escape with Carmen, Player is dragged back and kept in the dark from their punishment.

At least, until Brunt grabs the whip.

(Made for Whumptober Day 10, Poor Unforunate Souls and the prompt Whipping, as well as Day 17, Stress Positions)

collar / touch aversion / Leave me alone (you’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest)

The first few weeks on Titan had been hell. Coming down off a supremely magnificent Red Eye high that he'd managed to stretch out for days - something unheard of and very much frowned upon even by the addicts who jonesed for the drug the most - had been rough. He'd been quite literally out of his mind. Unfit for any sort of company. There were scratches up and down his arms and legs, he'd nearly bitten through his tongue, and he'd lost a significant amount of weight.

Apparently he'd been so wildly out of control - deranged, in fact - that they'd resorted to chaining him up like an animal.

The thought brought him dark amusement. He'd always told Spike that they were beasts. Killer hounds on Syndicate leashes. A hound was hardly a frightening animal though. He preferred to liken himself to a viper. Forget Adam and never mind Eve, the snake was the true hero of the tale of Eden. The controlling power, with cunning and stealth, with wicked fangs to sink into the unsuspecting flesh of prey. The Syndicate named themselves Dragons as if a fictitious beast were more frightening than creatures actually in existence. Fools. Fools for more serious reasons than something that trivial though.

They didn't approve of his fixation on strength and shows of might. They didn't approve of his desire to use terror as an intimidation tactic. They certainly didn't approve of his use of Red Eye. Unlike most who took the drug, he had always been able to will himself into a state of cool-headed self-discipline. He'd had the uncanny ability to subdue the fervor that it awoke in nearly everyone else. It had made him more lethal by far than he'd ever been before, and that was saying something considering the body count he and Spike had racked up over the years.

Chained and collared, he was sent to Titan to languish. Sent to Titan to be tormented by the mad scientists who were truly governing the goings-on of the sad, dusty little moon. He knew the dark reality of this place. The Elders had sent him to get clean, to curtail his shaping of the newer members of the Syndicate, and to take advantage of the despair of the men and women trapped on this rock. The military had and would always be a fine source of customers when it came to drugs that numbed, drugs that distracted, drugs that gave people increased speed and endurance. It was a place he could have thrived, but that was not the intent.

He had torn himself to shreds originally. On the ship that brought him to Titan, he had frothed at the mouth and drawn blood everywhere he could reach. By the time they reached Titan he had been strapped down by more restraints than were necessary. On the moon itself he was freed except for the collar. They kept him in a tiny cell where he could not stretch out and they plagued him with constant pain. Whips, brass knuckles, the collar itself revealed to be able to shock quite powerfully, and of course their fists and boots. None had any of the fighting skill of Spike, of course, which meant he could have bested any or all of his jailors if they'd given him half a chance. But their job was to break him. Physically, mentally if possibly, spiritually if he gave a shit about that type of thing.

He refused to bow to their cruelty. His own ran deeper, pulsed stronger. They were ants in comparison. And eventually the predetermined stretch of time the Van had allotted for his punishment came to an end. He was released out into the general populace for the more important mission of converting soldiers to addicts. Behind the scenes, of course, and with the mission of finding a fall guy to ensure the Syndicate was kept as far removed from responsibility as possible. It was child's play, of course, and then he was called back.

It wasn't until he returned to Mars, returned to Tharsis and to Julia, that he realized something had gone wrong.

They'd always enjoyed quite a few games in the bedroom. Julia loved to dominate. She'd often employ handcuffs, blindfolds, collars and ball gags and other ways to keep him from bringing them both to climax too soon. She got off on being in charge and he had always been exhilarated by the sheer heights of desire he could drive her to while being unable to move as freely as he'd like.

But he flinched when she brought her hands to his bare skin. Not a large reaction but not something either of them could deny having seen. To her credit, she didn't acknowledge the involuntary action beyond the blink of surprise she'd been unable to hide.

And then he discovered a deadness inside himself. Oh, he'd never been emotionally stimulated to much degree... had never been able to sympathize with the people who he was sent to hurt or kill. There had always been a piece of humanity missing from his soul and it had never bothered him in the least. If anything, it made it far easier to be who he was and do what he did. He'd seen the flashes of weakness in Spike from time to time and had counted himself lucky to not have to contend with those turbulent emotions. He experienced delight and disgust and plenty of other things, he had no need to experience the hassle of a conscience.

But there was a new emptiness within him now. He had thought himself immune to the brutality he had gone through on Titan but apparently not.

There was no more appetite within him for anything sexual. No pride in making Julia scream. No urge to find completion for himself.

Beyond that, he was now uncomfortable with physical contact of any sort. Her soft hands on his skin prickled like sandpaper and he was surprised that her palms didn't leave trails of blood to show where they'd lain on his body. Touch aversion, due to the near-constant contact he'd been made to endure by those plebeians?

How pathetic.

It ignited a fury within him. How ironic that they had been so worried about the madness a man could be driven to under the influence of Red Eye when the true danger had turned out to be their attempt to subjugate him. He found himself increasingly unsettled by his own inability to suppress his rage, and by his body's refusal to feel lust.

He knew it baffled Julia. Their animalistic union had once been a nightly occurrence whenever he wasn't on a mission. And now? He couldn't even stand to see her.

He had sat up in bed while she slept, discontent, and found he was unable to feel even the faintest stirring of longing for her. It was a slice of himself that he was not prepared to let go of yet. The thirst for this woman had been a source of such carnal pleasure for years... and now, to have to give up physical coupling just because there was no urge whatsoever? It was not by his choice and that made him bitterly upset.

Days passed in a haze of mounting frustration. Spike had been gone on another assignment and the Van had refused to put Vicious himself back to work yet.

She came to him in the darkness of the night, likely assuming that their first few attempts at joining together again had gone awry solely because he'd been gone for a while. She came to him gently at first, then tried to be commanding. He burned with the need to meet her demands, with the desire to be in charge of his own body's cravings. He was trembling, seething, at the block that existed between his previous hunger and his current... absolute lack. It went beyond a void because he could still not stand to have her touch him.

"Leave me alone!" He erupted at her when she approached him, nude and brandishing a crop.

Her eyes had flashed at him. She licked her lips once, not in a sensual manner but to give herself a moment of recovery.

"Why?" She implored.

(you’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest)

But he did not say these thoughts aloud. He chose to chastise her instead.

He sneered at her. "I do not need to offer you any explanation. I do not need you at all. Our time together is over. Find someone else to be your plaything as you seduce and bribe and cajole your way to the top. I will not suffer your presence in my company any longer."

Once they'd had similar goals. To carve a path to the Van itself and wrest authority of the Syndicate for themselves. They had designs in mind, subterfuge and blackmail and backstabbing. It wouldn't do to blaze a trail there while leaving ruin in your wake - the route Spike would no doubt take if he'd any mind for the future and for assuming control. Spike, for all his capabilities and cleverness, was not inspired to take responsibility of his own life let alone a powerful crime syndicate like the Red Dragons. Spike had always preferred being directed where to attack. He was a hurricane force that would do well as Vicious's second in command, rampaging wherever Vicious chose to send him. Julia, with all her beauty and cunning, would be invaluable as a way to infiltrate other syndicates. Her ability to steal into a room and draw attention was impressive, but moreso was her knack at operating behind the scenes and pulling people in this direction or that as if they were puppets to which she held the strings.

The dream didn't have to die. He could still usurp the Syndicate with Spike as his trusty and deadly right hand. Perhaps there could even be room for Julia at the top in that far away future. He had no intention of rushing this process, after all. Time would help deteriorate the grip of the Van on the other members, and time would give him the chance to assume their loyalty instead.

First, he had to cut himself off from the open wound that was his former relationship with Julia. He could not afford to indulge in the outrage that rose up every time he considered what had been taken from him. He had to accept the changes wrought and move forward coldly and callously. Every act the Van took was leading them further from the ruling force they had once been, and bringing Vicious closer to unleash a new wave of savagery upon this forsaken city.

He would rule it all one day, or else see it razed to the very dust.