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“Kacchan, wake up.”
He’d been sleeping so peacefully, too.
“Kacchan.”
His eyebrows furrowed. The person talking was so damn loud. Did he really have to yell in his ear like that? Bakugo’s mind sluggishly tried to attach the voice to a name, but he—he couldn’t. He knew who it was, but couldn’t quite remember if his name started with a D? …Or was it an I or an M?
Bakugo groaned, wishing his brain would work faster. But everything felt numb, except for the blunt searing pain radiating inward from his scalp, as well as the throbbing in his knee.
“Kacchan!”
In hindsight, it might not have been the best idea to headbutt whoever was yelling at him, when his skull was already been on the verge of breaking open beforehand.
“So noisy…” He groaned, pushing himself up. The world slid into focus momentarily, and he could only make out a green shape before everything turned blurry again. He waited for his vision to re-sharpen.
It didn’t.
He was acutely aware of the pounding in his head, joined by a burning sensation on the back of his neck. Someone – or was it two? – people were talking, their voices distant but somehow recognizable.
One was chattering at a lightning fast speed, the other chipping in with short, low responses.
Bakugo fell backward.
Fuck, he’d hit his head again.
Their shouts of alarm made him want to cover his ears.
“Ba…u..go?” Said the deeper voice, at the same time a ringing started up in his ears. He knew that tone. Tod… Tod-something? Bakugo’s visage split into two colors, red and white.
Someone was touching his cheek.
“…-mething’s wrong with…” Said the other guy. His name was coming to Bakugo now, bit by bit. It ended with ‘ku’, he was sure of that.
“…Kuuu,” he mumbled. It was a shitty attempt to jog his own memory, and it didn’t even work. He still couldn’t finish the name, and that bothered him greatly.
He opened his eyes wider, but—that didn’t improve his vision, either. The only discernable things were shapes and two bright colors. A bit of red, a long vertical line of green.
So he shut his eyes, because it was getting too tiresome to do anything else, and it’s not like his efforts were getting him anywhere.
Drowsiness overtook him, and Bakugo was already welcoming the sweet release of sleep, but suddenly there were hands jostling him. They grabbed his shoulders roughly, and shook him so hard that his leg was jerked too, and that – that fucking hurt.
“…-acchan! Don’t… Sleep!”
Bakugo growled in protest, and tried to curl in on his side so he could ignore the owner of that voice. Ku, or whatever. Goddammit, why couldn’t he remember his name?!
Multiple hands pinned him down. He tried to ignore the mounting panic mixing with the pre-existing confusion he felt.
“You have a concussion,” said Person #2, louder and clearer now.
It took a long while for Bakugo to make sense of that sentence. A concussion, so what…? They could remind him again when he woke up later.
Then, he felt a searing pain on his left arm. It was hot… Hotter… Like he was being set on fire—
That did the trick. Bakugo’s eyes flew open and he shoved away whatever (whoever?) was trying to cremate him without checking to see if he was dead first.
There was a grunting noise as he’d made contact with something solid. Despite the increasing pressure in his head and neck, he sat upright again.
Two faces were staring back at him. Red-white, green. Slowly unscrambling themselves into clear facial features.
“I’m not… Dead,” he said. It was more difficult to string words together than he’d anticipated. “Don’t burn me.”
“You might’ve been, if you fell asleep again.” Todo-sho? Said.
“Kacchan,” said Ku. His green eyes shone bright with tears. Fuck, how annoying. He couldn’t even remember this guy’s name, yet here he was, crying over him. “You have a concussion. And we think your leg might be broken. Do you… Do you remember who we are?”
Bakugo nodded very slowly. It did nothing to alleviate the throbbing behind his eyes. When Bakugo told them his guesses, they turned to each other and started whispering.
“Uh, do you remember how we got here?”
Bakugo looked around. There was nothing but rock. Rocks were hard. That’s… That’s all he knew. He growled in frustration. How the hell was he supposed to know
Rock… Hard… Okay, he had this. He knew the answer.
“Kirishima,” he said confidently.
They looked at each other again.
“I suppose that’s… Correct,” said Todoro… Totoro? Ha. Whoever the fuck he was. “Yeah, Bakugo, you were with Kirishima earlier, and Kaminari for the disaster training, but you stayed behind.”
“Are you sleepy, Kacchan?”
He nodded. The question seemed to trigger another wave of drowsiness in him, and he closed his eyes and said “Yep. ’Night,” already leaning back when he was grabbed once more.
“No! Don’t sleep.”
“Fuck. Off.” They weren’t letting him lie down. Something warm pressed behind his back, keeping him upright, and nudged against the backs of his arms.
“Okay. That’s good.” Todoroki… Todoroki! Was speaking directly into his ear. He winced. “He’s sounding more like himself, at least. Still slurring, but at least there’s improvement.”
“Kacchan, let me see your hands.” Green fucker didn’t even wait for an answer before he grabbed Bakugo’s fingers, tugging off the gloves. He was examining Bakugo’s palms thoroughly, stroking them before checking for some sort of residue on the tips of his own fingers.
“They’re fine. Thank God.”
Why ‘thank God’?
Oh, yeah. His quirk.
“Let go, Deku,” he said, snatching his hands away.
“You said my name right this time,” Deku said with a smile. “That’s… That’s really good, Kacchan. You had us worried for a while, but at least your memory’s coming back pretty quickly.”
“I’m fine,” he said. Anger inexplicably gnawed at him. It was an emotion he automatically associated with Deku, though he couldn’t quite recall why.
And not being able to remember was pissing him off even more.
“Can you… Can you see us clearly now?” Deku asked, drawing his face closer.
“Y-Yeah,” Bakugo replied, but a wave of nausea overcame him – Deku had moved too quickly, and the flash of green had disturbed something in his brain.
He thought, for a second, that he was going to throw up, so he covered his mouth even though a part of him delighted at the idea of throwing up all over Deku. After all, he’d deserve it.
A braceleted wrist grabbed his arms, steadying him, and Bakugo made an angry noise when he realized he was leaning back against Todoroki this whole time, settled between the other male’s open legs. What the fuck!
“Get off me,” he said, and thrashed. Then he grabbed his head, groaning, and Deku, the annoying bastard, was touching him all over.
“Kacchan, you have to calm down and tell me where it hurts.” Deku was prodding him everywhere, rubbing at his arms like a creepy-ass... Monster or whatever, before moving to his collarbone and sliding down to his stomach. Then hands slipped under his shirt and Bakugo jumped.
But his body seemed to move at one-third the speed, because by the time he’d yelled, Deku’s hands had left his skin, were tugging his shirt back down and brushing against the fabric covering his thighs.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Kacchan, but I had to see if you had any signs of internal bleeding. We found you half-buried under a pile of rocks,” he was talking rapidly, as he poked at Bakugo’s left leg but avoided the right. “We don’t know where else you might be hurt, apart from your head and your right leg.”
“Hmm,” he replied, his body relaxing of its own accord, although he did not know exactly why. A pleasant tingling eased some of the pain in his neck, as well as parts of his back.
“Todoroki, are you warming him?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? He might fall asleep again.”
“It’ll take some of the pain off, and—and we’ll both make sure he stays awake, right?”
Bakugo was nodding off.
“Kacchan!”
“Ha?!” He jerked his head, and then made a grab for his scalp again, a low moan tumbling out of his lips, as he was hit with another wave of agony.
“We can’t keep surprising him to keep him awake,” Deku said, the frustration evident in his voice. “It'll hurt his head more. Can you keep him talking, Todoroki? I’m gonna see if we have reception. Probably not, but… It’s worth a try.”
“Okay. Uh, Bakugo. Can you count to ten?”
“Why,” he grumbled. “Did no one… Teach you how to f’in count?”
“Just do it,” sighed the other male. “I don’t want to have to burn you again, okay?”
“Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five….Four? Three-two-one, there!” He said through gritted teeth. “Happy?”
“Very. Now, uh. Count to a thousand.”
Todoroki was supposed to be alleviating his headache, but talking to him was making Bakugo want to hurl himself into a wall face-first.
“You first,” he said, exhaling sharply. Speaking fast took a lot out of him. In fact, he wasn’t really in the mood to talk anymore.
“Kacchan!” Deku said, returning with a smile. Bakugo flinched. What a fucking grating voice he had. His ears were aching as it is, no thanks to Deku’s screeching.
“So loud,” he complained.
“Sorry! It’s just, Kirishima’s on the phone. Can you talk to him for a bit? He’s asking how you are.”
Deku pressed the phone to his ear, and hissed (“Kirishima, keep him talking, alright?”) into it before passing it to Todoroki, who set it on speaker phone but held it next to Bakugo’s ear anyway. Dumbass.
“Heyyy, Bakugo… I …-eard what happened,” The voice was crackly.
“Kiri? Shima?” Bakugo asked.
“Yeah, it’s me,” chuckled the redhead from the other end. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”
“Great,” Bakugo answered. “Head hurts. Leg’s broken. I can’t really… Get up, or… See well, but I guess… Other than that, I’m okay.”
“Wooow. Yeah, you sound perfectly fine, alright.”
He didn’t know how to reply to that.
“Bakugo?” Kirishima asked. “Stay with me, pal.”
“Still here. Just… Dunno what to say.”
“We’re doing our best to get you out of there. But be patient, okay?”
“’We’? You mean…” Bakugo paused. He wanted to say the names of their classmates, but he couldn’t quite grasp them. “Uh…”
“Aizawa… Recovery Girl… Our classmates,” Kirishima said slowly. There might’ve been a sob or two between some words, but Bakugo couldn’t be sure. “Tell me the names of our classmates, Bakugo. Let’s go through them one by one, okay? Let’s start with the annoying guy beside me right now. I think you can hear him a bit…”
Indeed, there was a second voice yelling his name in the most annoying pitch Bakugo had ever heard.
“Do you recognize his voice, Bakugo?”
Bakugo nodded, before remembering he was on a damn phone.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Who is it? You saved him just earlier, you know. He shoots electricity, but he’s not too good at it."
Bakugo let out an annoyed grunt. He couldn’t! Remember the guy’s fucking name! All he knew was that it was long. Lots of syllables. And he remembered his bright yellow hair, dumb-looking expression… But nothing else…
It didn’t help that Deku was distracting him. The guy – loser – nerd was gesturing at Todoroki, then pointing at Bakugo’s injured leg. Bakugo felt Todoroki exhale against his nape – ew – before a hand steadied on his hip.
“Hey, hey… Wait a minute,” Bakugo said sharply.
“What? What is it?” Kirishima said, sounding alarmed.
“Todoroki… Stop touching me. Gross.”
“Kirishima,” Todoroki groaned. “I’m just trying to get him to stop moving so Midoriya can work on his leg.”
“Tell me more about how gross it is that Todoroki’s touching you,” Kirishima said, and the static couldn't quite hide his snickering.
“Think he’s… Trying to burn me again?” Bakugo replied, only for Todoroki to say “I am not!” in a harried voice.
There was a ripping noise, alongside a spike of pain, and Bakugo was drawn to the commotion going on at his feet. He made a confused sound as his injured leg was suddenly laid bare before him, the skin of his knee clotted with blood and his lower leg purple with bruising.
“Bakugo? What’s wrong?!”
“Fuckin’ Deku took off my pants,” he replied, and Midoriya, looking frantic, made a grab for the phone.
“It’s for the splint, Kirishima! The splint!” He exclaimed.
As funny as it was to watch Deku panic like a headless chicken, Bakugo was growing bored, exhaustion settling into his muscles. He realized belatedly that his head was lolling back against Todoroki’s shoulder. Darkness was creeping into the edges of his vision.
Maybe… He could take a break. For a little while…
“Kirishima,” he mumbled. “You still there? Sh… Shitty hair?”
Whatever Kirishima said in response came out jumbled, staticky through the phone’s speakers, before it went silent.
Uneasiness washed over him.
“Midoriya,” Todoroki said urgently. “We’ve lost the signal. Bakugo’s falling asleep. We have to hurry—”
“Right, right, do whatever you can to keep him conscious, Todoroki! I’m almost done.”
Deku had removed his boot without him noticing and was affixing something to the sides of his leg, cladding of some sort. Every touch sent twinges of pain shooting up his thigh but Bakugo couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, his eyelids falling closed…
If Deku didn’t give back his boot, he’d kill him…
Three fingers pressed to Bakugo’s cheek and they were damn cold, startling him awake.
“We said not to sleep, didn’t we?” Todoroki said, irate.
“I was just… Resting my eyes… Twat,” Bakugo sniped back.
“Done!”
Bakugo looked down, at the makeshift splint now wrapped around his leg. It looked like shit. He could easily do one better, but before he could voice this opinion, Deku was kneeling at his side.
“Kacchan.” Did he have to say that at the start of every sentence? Fuck. “We’re going to help you stand, alright? Kirishima and the rest can’t come down here. But we can get back up as long as you walk. Todoroki and I will help you. Understood?”
“Mmm.” Bakugo honestly didn’t know, how they were going to accomplish that. He could hardly turn his head without feeling like the world was spinning, and walking seemed out of the question given the condition of his leg.
But fuck it.
“Hell yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”
It took a couple of tries to be able to balance on his uninjured leg. His arms shook, wrapped around the shoulders of Deku and Todoroki, as they hauled him upward. He couldn’t tell whose hand was whose, but his stomach rolled and he gasped, filled with the sudden urge to retch.
“Wait,” he croaked. “W-wait.”
Todoroki and Deku stood absolutely still, until his breathing evened out.
“Okay. Move.” They took one agonizing step forward, and everything was swirling again. Bakugo groaned.
“Maybe one of us should just carry him,” Todoroki suggested.
“Fuck off. I can… I can walk.”
“Take your time, Kacchan.”
“Shut up.” They took another step and there was… Less dizziness this time, though his neck hurt like hell. He sighed, frustrated. This was so fucking slow. At this rate, he’d be a skeleton by the time they arrived aboveground.
“Don’t talk,” he said to Deku.
“But I didn’t say any—”
“It’ll get boring if we’re all just quiet the whole time, Bakugo,” Todoroki added.
“Ugh.” More steps. Okay. They were getting the hang of this. “Worst. Canes, ever.”
“Canes?”
“Yeah.” He stopped for a while to catch his breath. Blinking, he realized that everything had finally unfogged itself. He could see clearly, looking down at the shitty excuse for a splint that Deku made. He didn’t dare glance to the side, though, didn’t want to risk making eye contact with the two boys on either side of him.
His thoughts were picking up their pace, too. It was easier to summon the right words, and he was able to demonstrate his wide vocabulary once again when Deku accidentally maneuvered them into a column.
When they caught their first glimmer of light, Bakugo had to shut his eyes for a while to prevent the nausea from welling up once more.
He remembered.
Kaminari.
Fuck, how could he have forgotten his name? God, now he’d never hear the end of it.
After what seemed like hours of Todoroki and Deku both yapping into his ear, annoying phrases like “You can do it!” and “Just a bit more!” like they were fitness instructors from a fuckin’ exercise DVD, they finally made it out. He escaped their clutches at last when he was set down on a stretcher that was next to Recovery Girl.
Kirishima was immediately beside him, talking a mile a minute. He nodded, completely understanding what he was saying this time, but too exhausted to speak.
His eyelids were growing heavy, and annoyingly enough, Deku was apparently still around to notice, because he bent low, and whispered in that usual condescending way.
“Good job, Kacchan… You can go to sleep now.”
Bakugo did, and the last thing he felt was a press of lips to his forehead.