UPROAR

Summary: Just because you're a Pro doesn't mean you're immune to the shit life throws your way. But that's part of the fun, right? Right…? Ugh, All Might made it all look so easy. Aged-up. Rated T for now. Connected drabble series.

A/N: Oh boy, I'm sorry everybody! Let's just say the holidays reallllllllllly got me distracted…but in a good way, at least! There was the usual holiday craziness going on, but I also became a godmother in December which was more than a welcome surprise! But anyway, to make up for my absence, it's a double update this time! You heard right – two for the price of one! (Or maybe it's more like I'm repaying a debt since I missed a post…?) Well, let's not sweat the details, this title comes from a song as per usual, which is by the band Zero. So, without further ado, enjoy!

Chapter 12: Leave The Light On

The television screen bathed the room in a soft blue glow, but the pair had kept it on mute while they worked. The captions scrolled across the bottom of the screen and Melissa couldn't help but look up from her notes to skim them every once in a while.

"They're getting worse." She declared, fingers resting uneasily atop the keys of her laptop.

Her temporary partner looked up from the screen they were sharing to follow her gaze to the TV. He seemed to sigh in agreement. "That's why we need to do everything we can to help. They're fighting for their lives out there."

The local news helicopter was hovering high overhead, showing images of the I-Expo still in full swing. But thanks to that ultimate vantage point, it had become all but impossible to avoid the swarm of protestors currently mobbing the outskirts of the expo.

Melissa sat back in her office chair with a grumble, pushing blonde hair behind her ears and adjusting her glasses in frustration. Her blue eyes stared at the news broadcast on the screen embedded in the wall across from them, dancing across the captions with a frown forming across her brow.

"I should be helping them." She swore, clutching her hands into fists. "If I could have just held onto my father's company, none of this would be happening right now. I could be using all my power to help them right now, instead of sitting here plotting a theft like some cat burglar."

"Hey, you said so yourself – we're doing everything we can right now." Deku stated for what felt like the hundredth time since she'd first explained her situation to him. "And your company was stolen from you, so how –"

"I should have known better, Deku-kun." She insisted. "Nobody would let a company worth millions be run by a girl like me. I should have seen it coming – I played right into their hands like a puppet and now that's all I am to them. Powerless. Useless."

He felt for her, he truly did. But now was just not the time to dwell on the past when her future safety was dwindling day-by-day. The term she'd used when she described her situation was "hostile takeover" and while Deku was certainly not cognizant in the competitiveness of the corporate world, he was able to deduce that they hadn't fought fairly at all. Instead of negotiating with her, her company had been bought out from underneath her practically overnight, and all her loyal board members replaced. And ever since then, Melissa had been kept on their payroll, serving as a brand ambassador to act as the public face of Shield Industries. But she had no voice when it came to the direction of her father's former company.

And things had taken a sharp turn for the worse over the past few weeks. Small protests had sprouted up like weeds until they started to overrun the veritable garden that was I-Island. It had all started with the leaking of a horrific video that showed the execution of a group of scientists, though all faces and identifying features had been edited out. While the exact nature of the video was currently debated across news networks around the world, its intention was clear enough. Someone had leaked it to show to the abominable standards of treatment that the workers had to endure on I-Island, and the workers had had enough.

But as bad as the situation had become, it could only get worse were someone to release the original un-doctored footage – with faces, company logos, and location as clear as day. Melissa was one of the many islanders who wanted to track down the murderers, but it was all very hush-hush. The names of the deceased were nowhere to be found, try as she might, which had fueled her hunch that it was part of something much bigger than itself. But she couldn't be sure of anything without proper evidence, of course. And that was where Deku came in. She couldn't trust anyone else and with the timing of the I-Expo, she felt like it would be now or never. The very fate of I-Island rested in a peaceful resolution, but the government had made it abundantly clear that they would not cater to the demands of the protestors, even if all they wanted was justice for the fallen.

Deku's dark green gaze peered at her laptop screen and he flipped the pen between his fingers out of habit. Nervous habit. That's all he'd been reduced to lately. He'd agreed to help Melissa get her company back, whatever the cost, but he was beginning to wonder if things could truly be as simple as that. There was something she wasn't telling him, but he trusted her enough not to pry. She was in a very precarious predicament and he didn't see the benefit of forcing her to tell him something she didn't seem ready to divulge at the moment.

"We'll figure it out." He reassured her. "We just need one piece of evidence to reveal the truth, right? How tough could it be?"

Melissa gave him an incredulous look before turning to her laptop again. On it were the blueprints to the Shield Industries tower, revealing every point of entry and security apparatus in the building. She slid a notepad his way and tilted the screen for him to copy down a schematic version that only he could understand.

"I guess that depends on what you consider tough."

Deku only smirked with a small chuckle before his pen zoomed across the pad to scrawl every relevant fixture. Melissa watched him idly, able to determine his shorthand quickly enough since she already had the building memorized.

Ever since the main research tower on the island had been attacked several years ago, the investing companies had split up their assets across the floating paradise. Apparently, a bunch of smaller targets spread out all over the place felt safer than one large beacon. Melissa had kept Shield Industries in the tower while she still had any say in the matter; but ever since she'd gotten the ax, Shield had jumped ship to one of the outside cities.

While Melissa had stubbornly kept her personal lab in the main tower, it pained her to see all the empty floors from those who had abandoned theirs. But she supposed she couldn't really blame them, after all. No one was allowed to leave the island due to security concerns, so if your company moved you had little other choice but to follow. Finding another company to work for had become nearly impossible due to the widespread fear of secrets being spilled, so people were stuck with their companies for better or worse.

But that very fact made her desire to discover the truth behind the "Execution" (as the infamous video had come to be called) grow even stronger. The media had regurgitated the fact that because of state secrets, no one was permitted to leave I-Island. Therefore, the victims in the video could only blame themselves for attempting to flee with potentially valuable information from their former companies.

But therein lay the fallacy. Anyone from I-Island knew better than to try escaping – it just wasn't worth it. Trade secrets were like currency around these parts – people blackmailed each other like they were simply negotiating their salaries. It was just something you dealt with in a place like I-Island, where privacy and innovation went hand-in-hand. So, it was clear to Melissa and many other natives that something wasn't quite right with the story the media had picked up. These weren't ordinary scientists tragically trying to flee the island. Just like how the designated executioners were not island-standard security enforcers.

"Alright, I think that's good enough." Deku interrupted her stewing. "What do you think?" He turned the notepad her way to reveal his drawing like it was show-and-tell day.

Melissa took it in haphazardly – it didn't matter what they looked like to her, after all. "As long as it makes sense to you."

"That bad, huh?" He chuckled, taking in his sketches again. "Well, as long as we can avoid all the security cameras, we should be fine."

"And the armed guards."

"Yeah, no problem." He dismissed, like he hadn't faced down any number of them in the past.

"Don't forget the security bots, either."

"Right…security bots…" It wasn't like he'd fared terribly against them last time, after all. "Um, so about the bots, actually…"

"Relax, Deku-kun." She smiled. "They're Shield model."

"So, you'll be able to – oh?" He shifted in his chair to slip his phone out of his pocket. It was a little late for a phone call, so it took him by surprise. "Excuse me a second."

"Sure."

Deku answered the video-call from Uraraka with a sly smile on his face, wondering what mischief could have warranted such a late-night facetime. But when the call finally patched through, his stomach dropped to the soles of his shoes.

"Oh, thank heaven, I've been trying to reach you for hours!"

"W-what?" He managed to choke out, words failing him as his gaze settled on the image of a frazzled-looking Gaia.

"Midoriya-kun, listen to me." Ochako's boss insisted. "There's been an accident."

"What are you talking about?!" He demanded. "Where's Uraraka?!"

Earlier That Night

"It's time for us to get serious, Uraraka!" The voice was an excited snarl, but she struggled to find its owner in the blackness surrounding her. A menacing fist clawed through an ashy cloud of smoke and she felt her heart flutter before going silent again.

"I think things are getting serious, Uraraka-san." This voice was a nervous warble, and she still couldn't find the source. A scarred hand appeared from the darkness, dangling a shiny key between its fingers and she felt her heart jumpstart again before the beats dropped off.

"This is serious!"

"Uraraka!"

"–lyzing rhythm, do not touch patient."

"Fuck, clear!"

"C-clear!"

"Analyzing rhythm, do not touch patient…Shock not advised. If needed, begin CPR now."

"Shit, shit, shit!"

"Stay calm and get to it! Your panic isn't helping her."

"Alright! 1! 2! 3! 4!"

Ochako felt pounding on her chest, drawing her higher and higher through the inky darkness of her dreamland with each thrust, like the banging of a war drum rousing her to battle.

"…28! 29! 30! Breathe!"

She felt strong hands grasp her chin and tilt her head, pinching her nose to push air into her mouth. Life swirled through her lungs and the second breath was powerful enough to sweep away the dark tendrils that sought to ensnare her. With a deep gasp, she shoved them away in order to unleash a coughing fit onto the road, dreamworld vanishing as reality violently brought her back to life.

"Atta girl!" Someone rubbed her back as she retched on the pavement and gasped for fresh air. "Get it all out!"

"Fuck's sake…" The other voice breathed.

Ochako rolled onto her back and peered up at a shock of red hair. Her vision was too blurry to make out anything else, until the second figure squatted down next to her and inspected her eyes. He waved a finger in front of her face to follow, which she barely managed to do.

"Kiri…?" Her throat could barely withstand a whisper.

"Yeah, I'm here." He took her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "Bakugo's here, too."

"Ground…?" Her vision was bleary and starting to compensate by flashing memories before her eyes. She shook her head to clear them away. "Baku…go?"

"Save your breath." His gruff voice was unmistakable next to Kirishima's joyful tenor. "Oi! We need a medic over here!" He stomped away to find one for himself, realizing his voice may not carry as well from the empty alleyway.

"What's…happening?" She croaked.

"Bakugo found you passed out under the rubble." Kirishima supplied the answers he assumed she wanted the most. "You weren't breathing, so we had to do CPR. I think the heat might'a got you."

Ochako still felt weak, but she could feel her strength returning with each breath she took. When did Bakugo get there? Why was he under the building with them in the first place? How long had she been out? Minutes? Hours? She'd completely lost track of her senses.

She latched onto Kirishima's strong hand and tried to pull herself up to a sitting position. He placed his hand on her back again to keep her steady as Bakugo stomped back over with a medic in tow. She spotted Kirishima's trademark Red Riot sash draped across her shoulders and tugged it off. Kirishima caught her hand with a grip fast as a viper, averting his eyes with a blush.

"Well, uh…" He stammered. "We had to rip your costume to get the AED to stick to your skin, and well…that's why we're back here in the alley." He gave a nervous smile. "For your…um, privacy."

"Oh…oh!" She hugged his sash tighter around her shoulders in that case. "Thank you." Bakugo appeared and she turned to him. "Both of you – thanks."

The blonde turned away, suddenly blushing at the sight of her, and shrugged. "Medic's here." He jerked his head at Kirishima, and the other hero took the hint and followed him out of the alleyway.

"We'll be right over here if you need us!" The redhead seemed to remember something. "And, sir? Remember who you answer to if you can't fix her…!" He flashed his trademark grin as though that would make the guy feel any better about the thinly veiled threat.

Kirishima released a drawn-out whistle loud enough to make Bakugo want to clap his hand over his mouth. They sat on the curb just outside the alley, guzzling water bottles provided by both emergency responders and helpful civilians wishing to show their gratitude. He was scrolling through his phone and reading comments people had posted online about the emergency, annotating them at his leisure while they waited for Ochako.

"People are saying you're trying to copy me with your new shirtless look." He giggled like a schoolgirl.

"Morons." Bakugo spat. "Who's dumb enough to think I'm only wearing sweatpants now?"

"Says the dummy who doesn't keep a spare costume at home for this exact reason?"

"Watch it, shitty hair." He warned.

Kirishima ribbed him a little too hard, probably forgetting he didn't have any armor to protect him from a sharp elbow.

"I'm just busting your chops." He grinned, eyes still on his phone. "But y'know…you should definitely tell Mirko about the cat-lady you fought. 'Cuz she's gonna ask what you were doing here when you weren't called in."

Bakugo hung his head and ruffled his hair in frustration. This was the exact conversation he was dreading since he released that first unsanctioned explosion tonight. This was easily his biggest screw up all year, and he'd been struggling to justify it all night. Luckily, they were far enough away from the nosy news reporters and their cameras so he could have more time to brainstorm.

"You gotta, man." Kirishima insisted, clapping him on the shoulder and giving a comforting squeeze. "I mean, this isn't something that'll just settle itself. That cat was working for someone, so imagine all that intel she was able to get off you – rubbing elbows with the Top 10 and all."

Bakugo shot him a displeased glare that could melt steel, but luckily Kirishima was sturdier than that.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we don't know the extent of what she knows, and that's not good."

Bakugo sighed in response and leaned back on the sidewalk, stretching out his legs and remaining mum. But Kirishima was used to that by now. If his friend wasn't in a rage, then he was solemn. There really wasn't much middle-ground with him, except in the case of villain, in which case all bets were off.

"Holy shit!" The redhead suddenly exclaimed, making Bakugo jump.

"What now?" He snapped, sounding less than enthused and initially assuming a rogue reporter had hopped the divider again.

"Someone snapped a photo of you and it's going viral! Thirty-seven thousand views already and it's barely been an hour!"

Bakugo snatched the phone from him and ignored his whines about never being lucky enough to go viral no matter how hard he tried to boost his image. Instead, his heated gaze scanned the social media site where even unregistered users could view public images such as this. And there it was right at the top of the page. Bakugo, clad in his civilian joggers and Ground Zero mask, boots, and gloves, soaring through the air with his Turbo bursting from both palms. On his back was an unconscious Uravity, arms dangling around his neck with the smoldering building behind them. Both were covered in sweat and ash, but he just so happened to also be streaked with blood from his fight with Mikan. Beaten, bruised, and scratched up from battle, he looked like he'd been to hell and back.

"Noriko's gonna eat that shit up." He forked the phone back over to his friend, bigger things on his mind than something that would be old news by daybreak. That fucking cat-girl had gotten away and he had no clue what kind of information she had escaped with. Mikan the cat had been languidly lurking around his place for months, but did that mean she'd been spying on him the entire time? Was there ever a regular cat or had it always been her?

"Why couldn't someone have snapped a cool photo of me holding up that damn building all night?" Kirishima loudly lamented, burying his face in his knees and snapping Bakugo out of his brainstorming. "Or even performing those chest compressions on Uraraka-san! That was heroic enough, wasn't it?"

He received a punch for that one, square in the bicep and hard enough to send a shock of pins and needles straight to his fingertips.

"Yeah, alright." He rubbed his arm. "That's fair. I take that one back."

"If you're so upset about it, then go stage your own publicity stunt."

"I've been trying!" He wailed. "The only ones who care are Crimson Riot's fans."

"Then you've got a dedicated fanbase right there." Bakugo pointed out. "Figure out how to make it yours."

"Easy for you to say…" He griped. "You've got Noriko pulling all your strings."

"I ain't some puppet. She doesn't pull my strings." Even though he knew she wholeheartedly did.

"Chill, man." He backpedaled, sticking his foot in his mouth yet again. "I didn't mean it like that."

Their heated glares withered when they heard a small squeaky wheel headed their way. They turned to see Ochako emerge from the alleyway with the medic wheeling an oxygen tank behind her. Kirishima shot to his feet to help her walk while Bakugo eyed the scrawny medic behind her. He beckoned the man over while Kirishima fawned over their old classmate.

"So?" He demanded when the medic didn't readily fork over the information. "What's the prognosis?"

He gave him a wicked side-eye, probably to make up for being dragged over here and threatened earlier. "Are you friend or relative?"

Bakugo scruffed the guy by his collar with one hand to menace him with sparks from the other.

"I'm the guy who's gonna torch off each one of your toes 'til you tell me what I wanna know."

"Ask her yourself!" The medic held up his clipboard as a shield, but didn't budge an inch in spite of his blatant fear. Bakugo would have almost respected the scrawny guy's bravery if he wasn't in his way.

"Bakugo-kun, please!" Ochako called out, removing her breathing mask to yell at him. "I'm fine. Let him go already."

"Saved by the bell." He narrowed his eyes and reluctantly released the other man. "Beat it."

He didn't need to be told twice, scurrying off down the sidewalk with a single outraged look back. Bakugo stuck his jaw out at him and the man scampered off like a hyena frightened away by a lion.

"I only fainted from smoke inhalation." Ochako explained, a bit exasperated. "But I'm fine now."

"That's a relief." Kirishima grinned. "You really had us worried there!"

She gave him a quick smile. "I'm sorry for worrying you, but I should be thanking you both for all your help. I don't know how to repay you."

Bakugo narrowed his eyes in suspicion at her sudden aversion to looking them in the eye. Something wasn't right. Either the medic was too haphazard in his exam or Uraraka had refused his help. Or someone was lying. The care had gone by far too quickly, even by his novice judgment – he'd rescued many people from many fires before, and each victim of smoke inhalation he'd ever seen received a trip to the hospital, even if it was a minor case. And Bakugo didn't consider having to perform CPR on a victim a "minor" case. So, for Uraraka to revive from being unresponsive and not be in a stretcher right now…something wasn't right. Even though she'd only been out for less than a minute, oxygen deprivation just wasn't something people could shrug off on their own.

"You didn't 'only faint'." Bakugo approached and frowned down at her. "You stopped breathing – you went into cardiac arrest."

Kirishima gave his oldest friend a curious glance, wondering why he was backing the frail girl into the alley wall behind them. Sure, he'd had one helluva night, but hadn't they all?

"Ah, did I?" She chuckled nervously, wrapping Kirishima's sash tighter around herself as she stared at the ground.

"You did." Bakugo's tone almost seemed to mock her. "Hence the CPR. And if that string-bean of a medic didn't tell you that, then I definitely owe him another visit."

Kirishima gave his blond buddy another odd look, extending his arm to put some distance between the pair. "What's the hell's your problem, man? She's clearly fine." He turned back to Ochako. "We're just glad you're alright."

She nodded her head but remained uncharacteristically stoic under Bakugo's watchful eye.

"Then let's get going." He suddenly commanded, suspicion never quite leaving his tone. "We'll take you home."

"Oh, um…" Ochako attempted to scratch her nose, but the oxygen mask prevented her. "I actually have to go…to the hospital."

"You what?" Kirishima echoed as Bakugo folded his arms across his bare chest in satisfaction. "I thought you said you were okay!"

"I am, I am!" She insisted. "Really! It's just a precaution!"

Bakugo glared at her until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Alright, fine!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Kirishima dove for his sash before she knocked it off her chest. "They want to keep me overnight for observation!"

The grumpy blond sighed and dropped his arms to his side in exasperation. "Why didn't you just say so? I knew you were lying from the start. I've been to enough fires to know the drill by now."

Kirishima wisely chose not to jab him on his unintentional pun. Now was simply not the time, as much as it killed him inside not to point it out.

"I'm sorry." Ochako pouted, choosing to stare at his chest until she could meet his eyes again. The cluster of hickeys he'd had as he slumbered in her bed a few days ago had largely vanished, glaring testament to his incredible healing ability. "I just didn't want to worry you two anymore than I already did."

"Don't be silly!" Kirishima chirped. "We'll even come to the hospital with you if you don't want to go alone!"

"That's alright." She declined with a friendly smile. "I've already asked too much of you two tonight – you guys go home. I just want to call Deku and go to bed, anyway."

Bakugo's eyes widened at her slip-up and zeroed-in on Kirishima's goofy grin. Practically in slow-motion, he watched it falter as the gears in his head started turning at the keyword she'd unintentionally unleashed.

"Deku?" Kirishima repeated, as though his name held all the answers in the world. "Why? Are you guys dating or something?"

Ochako threw a frantic glance to Bakugo, who could only shrug back in return. At least now they'd know who was better at keeping a secret under wraps…

A/N: Phew, what a doozy! Ochako's memories here while she's unconscious are from her Sports Fest fight against Bakugo, and then I ended up making another memory using a similar line of Deku giving her a key to his place. This sucker clocked in at 8 pages, but I really wanted to make sure I made up for missing an update by giving you a big chapter for this double post. And finally, get CPR certified, kiddos. You could be a hero, too one day! /End PSA)