ii.
At the Point of Ignition
"Draped over your bones, paint colors up the walls to spread our inspirations. You are the likely cause of what will be my demise." -Daughter
"Can you-" She stopped, realizing what she was about to say but still needing to say it.
"Can I what Uraraka spit it out." It seems she'd reached the end of his rather long-lived patience that she'd been enjoying. Apparently being injured and exhausted did wonders for Bakugo's temperament.
"Can you move your hips up any, I need to unclip my belt." She admitted, the sentence leaving her somewhat breathless, and not because of its content but more because she was in a rather tight place at the moment.
"Yeah." And just like that, without any hemming or hawing Ochako was reminded of the confidence he held himself, of the way he always spoke in terms of steadfast assurity, no room for self-doubt or hesitation.
He grunted again, his knee coming up along her leg and hip to leverage himself up the scant few inches she needed.
"That's good." She notified, her hand diving between their bodies to unclip her belt without stopping to think about what exactly her hand was passing under.
Bakugo made a strange noise, somewhere between a grunt and an exhale that sounded like he'd been punched in the chest.
"Guh."
Ochako paused again in startlement, worried she'd hurt him worse this time.
"Are you-"
"Get on with it Round Face!" His hand bust with a small amount of light, much too sudden and glaring for her to do anything but blink against.
"Fuck!" His shout mixed with her shriek when the stone above them rumbled ominously, dust falling everywhere and sending both of them into a coughing fit.
Ochako wriggled out of her belt, and edged quickly out from under Bakugo over the course of the next couple of minutes.
Very awkward, tense minutes.
She tried to sit up right, hunching low and reaching up with a hand to feel how high the space went. Her hand touched stone just above her head; so not very high then.
"Bakugo there's more space here, do you think you can move?" She said the words with a new breath of air, one she knew wouldn't have too many repeat performances but found invigorating regardless.
"Shut the fuck up Uraraka." Was all she got for her effort. The noise that punctuated his words was a sound she would never forget for the rest of her life.
The tearing of fabric, the sound of metal on what she could only assume was bone and a wet, suctioned release that had her belly roiling like she'd just lifted a zero-point blockade robot on an overly full stomach.
She heard him thump to the ground next and she tried her best to get out of the way as he shifted out of the small alcove they'd been stuck inside. His movements went a lot faster than hers had; no extra body to maneuver around.
"R-release." Her fingertip pads touched together, returning her companions weight to the natural order of the universe's laws.
Bakugo sat up slowly, reaching for the space around him like she had, she heard his palm slide against the roof and the other grasped her arm.
She reached back for him on reflex, her vision gone and needing to be reassured that he was still here. Ochako returned his grip on her forearm, creating a bridge between them in the dark.
Her other sought his injured shoulder, immediately remembering her belt which had all of her supplies in it left behind in the dark.
"My-"
"I have it." He cut her off for the millionth time.
He shifted again, his free hand sweeping across the ground and dragging something towards her, he snatched her seeking hand and guided it towards the belt at his side.
Ochako blinked wide eyes, desperate to see and completely unused to not having such an important sense as she used her hand to orient which pouch was which.
"This one." She murmured to herself, not missing the way Bakugo's posture seemed to sway for a moment.
Shit. She scrambled for the roll of gauze, which she just now though might not actually be enough to stop the blood loss and-
Bakugo jerked to the side like he'd had one too many drinks.
"God Damn it Katsuki!" She hissing vehemently at him, and his lack of a response was telling.
Also terrifying.
She reached for him again, feeling along his shoulders and turning his body as best she could with his less-than-cooperative nature not helping at all. He wouldn't let go of her arm, and she had to pry his fingers from her person in order to turn his back to her.
"Shirt." She commanded shortly, and her worry escalated when the seconds seemed to tick by before the command registered enough for him to attempt to struggle out of the article. Ochako respected Bakugo's steadfast nature and his I-can-do-it attitude, but in this situation she decided it would be better to do it for him and take the risk of pissing him off over letting him bleed out. So Ochako reached for his lower back, fumbling in the dark for a moment before sliding cold fingers beneath the fabric of his black tank top across heated skin- holy shit he was burning up.
Was this normal?! She wasn't sure, she didn't think so? No, no there was no way his ambient temperature was this high, Explosion Quirk or not.
Blood was pouring out of his back, hot and thick and Ochako had to struggle to get his shirt off with how violently he began to tremble under her touch.
"Fuck." He mumbled. She was sure, had he been more lucid, that he would have come up with something much more... explosive over his invalidity.
She sincerely hoped he didn't murder her later for witnessing this. Assuming they had a 'later'.
Ochako balled the fabric of his tank top up, and pressed it into his shoulder with a firm hand.
"Bitch!" He yelped, jerking away from her. Ochako's hand snatched up his other shoulder to bring him back in the same instant.
"Deal with it!" She snapped, more concerned than irritated.
He snarled without words but Ochako was too busy trying to unroll gauze with her teeth. The shirt was becoming saturated much too quickly for her tastes so she held the fabric there for a long, very long stretch of minutes until she felt the blood was stemmed enough to wrap it.
She couldn't really tell how deep it was without sticking her fingers in it, and that didn't seem like a sensible thing to do unless she wanted to be burnt to a crisp- which she didn't thank you very much.
There wasn't a lot she could do about his filthy skin, let alone her equally filthy hands tending to him, or what all was on the tank top she was using as a poor stand in for a tourniquet. Ochako did the best with what she had, and prayed the stop gap would work long enough to get him to a hospital. Ochako promised herself if they got out of this alive she'd start carrying a lot more medical supplies.
The puncture was in an awkward positioning, and she had to finagle the roll of bandages under his armpit and across his back and over his shoulder in order the get the actual wound wrapped. The gauze soaked up even more blood so once again she used her teeth to tear strips out of his tank top- which was ridiculously hard to manage- in order to stuff scraps beneath the bandages.
She laid a hand over the wound, trying to feel if it was getting any wetter and after another long minute of deafening silence she deemed it good enough. Bakugo swayed in soft circles like a sapling in the wind.
"Done." She sighed in relief, and as if that had been the que all along Katsuki slumped backwards into her, unconscious once more.
AN: I'm really excited about the next couple of chapters y'all. Well, actually this is where things are really gunna start to pick up so the rest of what I have planned is gunna be pretty fast paced. I hope y'all enjoy, thank you for taking the time to read and review! I love you guys!