"Hey kiddo," Best Jeanist says, voice scratchy tired but still gentle. "You with me now?"
Katsuki just stared up at him. Mouth dry, eyes wide.
How the hell was this man even standing? Just a second ago he looked like death warmed over, and although he didn't exude an image of strength all of a sudden, he did seem to carry himself with air of calmness Bakugou desperately felt like he lacked.
Shaking his head in frustration, he opened his mouth to answer, but nothing passed his lips. Bakugou cursed internally. 'Fucking weakling,' he thought.
His shoulders where suddenly squeezed tightly again. This time Bakugou felt the stabilizing presence behind it.
"Easy kiddo," Best Jeanist said, lips curling into a half a smile. "An up and coming hero shouldn't let his emotions get the best of him."
'Fucking what?'
Feeling his hackles rising, the younger hero was just about to snap at the fancy pants denim wearing freak show, when they were suddenly interrupted by the scandalized hospital staff.
For just as quick as the number four hero had managed to drag himself out of bed, the nurses rushing into the room where equally as quick in putting him right fucking back.
"What the?" Bakugou muttered, slightly caught of guard by the sudden crowd of people hurrying in and out of the room that had just a second ago only contained him and the hospitalized former pro hero.
In his distraction Bakugou almost collided with the tall, bulky woman rushing past him. If she hadn't sharply told him to get out of the way, he would have probably not even noticed her.
Was he that out of it?
By now Beast Jeanist had been secured back into his proper position, and apparently from what Bakugou could make out the quick snipped of conversations, this chubby doctor had been called in to give him a check up. "Just to make sure nothing has triggered your injuries Hakamata-san," one of the nurses; a small pitied one, said gently.
The uniform freak just gave her a tired smile as he let his eyes follow the movements of the professional hospital staff as they worked meticulously to reattach all the equipments he most have carelessly thrown aside in his haste to get to Bakugou.
Katsuki didn't know how to feel about that. It was no secret that Best Jeanist's chances of full recovery were practically none existent now. He would never be the hero he used to be. However, the man still had a chance to live a normal life at some point if he was careful with how he applied himself during recovery, Bakugou didn't feel comfortable being the reason the former pro hero was shitting all over his hope of getting back on his feet some day.
A painful coughing noise abruptly broke through Bakugou's haze of distraction. The young hero's eyes quickly zeroed in on the blonde hero lying on the hospital bed, body half hunched over, and face twisting in agonizing pain he couldn't hide. It was obvious Best Jeanist was trying his best to suppress the choking misery forcing itself past his lips, but he was doing a poor fucking job of it.
The adrenaline that most have fueled the hero to come to his aid was slowly fading it seemed, and Jeanist was left with a body trying getting back at him for the brief stint of abuse he put it through.
The painful, retching noises where almost unbearable to listen to, and Bakugou had half a mind to just get the fuck out of there. But he couldn't move.
Jeanist was coughing out his fucking lungs, it was fucking terrifying, and Katsuki couldn't fucking move.
Death coiled itself like a snake in the pit of his stomach. Spreading itself into every nook and cranny, making him feel like a ghost trapped behind a body with a beating heart.
A body that couldn't do anything but to watch the man who came to his aid twice, suffer the consequences of his actions once more.
The fucker never learned. Helping Bakugou Katsuki was a suicide mission didn't he know? Fuck if anyone had ever gotten out of aiding him unscathed. All Might, Aizawa, The Uniform freak, fucking Deku, and probably shitty hair and the rest of the morons someday.
Just the thought of pinky, shitty hair, the dunce and tape face dying horrifically just because they decided to throw themselves between danger and him made Bakugou wanna hurl. If those shitstains ever got hurt under his watch? Well, Bakugou didn't know what the fuck he would do, but hell would rain down.
Still, his eyes refocused back on the man being restrained by the nursing staff, as they tried to prevent him from rupturing anything in his delicately put together stomach.
"You have to sedate him," the petite nurse said out loud, addressing the short doctor standing on the other side of the bed. Jeanist tensed. Whole body humming with nervous energy despite the ugly coughing wrecking his body.
"No," Bakugou said, taking the tiniest of steps forward. For some reason his voice barely came out above a whisper.
Jeanist didn't like being put under. Bakugou knew that, because Best Jeanist had told Bakugou that during one of their only casual conversations they had had back during Bakugou'a intern days. And wow, if that didn't feel like forever ago.
Clearing his throat in frustration, Bakugou tried again. "Stop," he called out.
No one seemed to hear him.
Damn it!
"Don't fucking sedate him," he tried to shout. But was it really a shout when no one seemed to hear it? What the fuck was he trying to do anyways? Maybe it was good that they put the denim obsessed hero under. He wouldn't have a chance to hurt himself if they did. It was fucking logical.
And yet.
"Stop," he whispered. Unable to move. 'I don't like losing consciousness either,' he thought. 'I don't like being helpless.'
Something within his just wanted to reach out, move forward, do something. 'I wan to help,' a tiny voice different from the vicious one whispered.'I need to help.'
But he couldn't. He just stood there. Useless.
'I bet Deku would have done something.' The traitorous voice was back again. 'Deku wouldn't have let All Might down like that'
All Might? What the fuck did All Might have to do with any of this?
"Stop," someone called out then. Someone directly behind Bakugou.
He jumped, unable to help the rigid fear of 'run, get away, run, villains,' that coursed through his body and reflected in his eyes.
The old man met Bakugou's gaze with an apologetic smile. "Sorry Bakugou-san," he said, moving past him and over to the doctor trying to loom above the now snarling hero.
"I promised Hakamata-san there would be no sedative for as long as it could be prevented."
"But," the other doctor protested, giving the newcomer an incredulous look.
Mr. Yagi; for Bakugou recognized shitty hair's current doctor, just shook his head at him. "Try not to antagonize a man that can string you up by the fiber of your cloths Todoku-kun."
The chubby doctor blanched, and Bakugou snorted.
Thankfully that didn't attract him any unwarranted attention. Why that was important to him now, Bakugou didn't fucking know. Suddenly the thought of getting kicked out of the room, didn't feel as relieving as it would have been just a moment ago.
"What were you thinking?" someone snapped then.
Moving his eyes to the voice, Bakugou stared at the old man.
Huh? Who would have thought bald-spot had it in him.
"Have you any idea how dangerous it is for you to move around? Your wounds have barely started healing Hakamata-san," Mr. Yagi scolded.
Apparently just because he saved Jeanist from getting blacked out, didn't mean he was gonna go easy on him. Bakugou liked him already. "Not to mention the infection you're currently fighting through," the doctor continued, voice not leaving much room for an argument. "Reckless as always I see."
"The kid," Best Jeanist sighed when the old man was finally done. Words trailing out past his chapped lips thinner than the threads of cloths he so expertly manipulated. "He was having a panic attack doc. Was just trying to help."
Any other day, and Bakugou would have been fucking offended, but there was something about seeing such a prolific hero brought low that had the fearless explosive hero rooted in his spot. Just this once forgoing voicing his annoyance.
"Young Bakugou?"
Best Jeanist nodded.
All the attention in the room was suddenly directed at him now. Bakugou snared. "Where you talking to Hakamata-san before he fell into a coughing fit?"
The question was casual. To the young explosive hero, it felt like an accusation.
Bakugou felt his chest constricting again.
This wasn't right. The uniform freak shouldn't be in a hospital. Shouldn't look so pathetic, shouldn't fucking be here damn it!
This is all your fault.
"Bakugou?"
Why can't I get anything fucking right!
"Young man?"
People just keep getting hurt.
"Bakugou?
Fucking pathetic.
"Katsuki."
He froze. That was Best Jeanist. His voice although frail still somehow managing to break through the rising panic Bakugou was slowly succumbing to again.
Jerking his head upward, his eyes connected with the tired gaze of the pro hero. Finding him easily, even in the midst of all the medical equipment's and the fuzzing nurses.
Said pro hero attempted what Bakugou imagined was supposed to be a calming smile when their eyes bet, but in all honesty came out more like a strained grimace. "Maybe you should sit down?" the man said, eyes flicking briefly over to the chair conveniently located next to his bed, before focusing back up at his face.
Bakugou shook his head.
This was all wrong.
"I need to, I should I-" he stuttered, words failing him.
What the fuck was wrong with him? 'Get your shit together Katsuki,' he thought, irritation burning under his skin.
Clenching his fits till his palms started hurting, he steeled himself and met the ex-hero's eyes unflinchingly.
"I'm gonna go," he gritted out. Trying his best to compose himself and to disregard whatever fucked up shit that had him feeling uneasy all of a sudden. "Have shit to do," he muttered.
Jeanist just blinked at him slowly. As if it took him enormous physical effort to just glean the right information out of what Katsuki had just said.
Bakugou's stomach lurched again.
He needed to get out of here, now.
"I should go," he said loudly, careful not to meet the former hero's eyes this time. Pointing a thump behind him at the door, he gave a casual shrug. "If I don't get back soon, the idiot squad will have my fucking head."
Not waiting for an answer, he turned around quickly to exit the hospital room that had done nothing but add to his current arsenal of nightmares. Ignoring the doctor soft hum of concern, the whispering nurses, and the wheezing sound that couldn't belong to any other individual than the wounded hero, Bakugou braced himself for a quick exit.
But before he could so much as take a step forward to escape the suffocating air, a horrible screeching sound rang from around the room.
Best Jeanist gasped loudly from somewhere behind him. A strange gurgling sound escaping his lips.
He didn't sound so good.
Bakugou's surroundings blurred again. The unmistakable noise of Jeanist suffering, coupled with the strict professional orders being snapped left and right, was making Bakugou feel so out of his depth. Something most have gone horribly terribly wrong.
Best Jeanist had stood up to comfort him, and now he was probably gonna die.
A firm hand settled between his shoulder blades, startling him out of his dark musing.
Bakugou tensed. But the hand stayed where it was, and the burly woman from before leaned down to speak to him softly. "Come now son," she said, her gentle tone not fitting at all with her towering figure. "The doctors are tending to your friend. Let's give them some space, ok?"
Katsuki wanted to snap at her. Tell her to fuck off, fucking weird voiced bitch, but his tongue felt heavy, his mouth felt dry and it was all he could do not to turn around and scream at the doctors for making a grown man sound so fucking pathetic.
Shrugging her off, Katsuki gave the woman the best glare he could muster under current circumstances and stepped away from here. "Don't tell me what to fucking do," he growled, arms crossing over his chest. He still didn't dare turn his head back around to look at the man a few feet away.
The giant woman just looked at him softly, a gentle look reminiscing of fucking Deku decorating her face. It set his teeth on edge.
"We have to let the professionals do their job Bakugou," she said, a hint of sternness hidden behind all the sunflowers and roses.
Bakugou snorted. "The same shitstains that got him fucking infected in the first place?"
He had no fucking clue why he was fighting with this woman. The doorstep was literally resting under his foot, and with one single step he would be out of the room, but for some reason, something in his gut kept telling him that walking out of this room right now would lead to something terrible happening to the hero, and Bakugou would be damned if he let anything else happen to the moron.
Of course this logic didn't make much sense, but Bakugou cared fuck all.
So he didn't budge.
"Marylin," someone called out from beside Jeanist. "Get rid of the child and get me Doctor Brown! We need to move him now!"
Giant lady whole demeanor changed at that. Grabbing Bakugou firmly by the shoulder; the explosive expert barely restraining himself from blowing up her arm for that, she dragged him with force past the thresholds. "I know you're worried about your friend," she said, voice barely avoiding coming out in a hiss as she narrowed her eyes at him. "But let the professionals do their job.
With that she gave him a final warning glare, before bringing out her pager and running past him in the opposite direction of where Bakugou had come from.
Alone once again with his thoughts, Bakugou stumbled back. The weight of what happened slowly downing on him as he shuffled as quickly as possible away from the doors, until his knees hit the uncomfortable metal lining of a lone chair.
How appropriate.
He dropped down on it.
Bakugou most really be the worst thing to have ever happened to the uniform freak.
Letting his head fall into his waiting hands, he took a deep, shaky breath.
'What were the fucking chances. Two fucking times he had walked into the hero's life and two fucking times the man had almost kissed his life goodbye.'
Fuck.