The hum in her mind was numbing. She didn't remember how she made her way back to the dorms. All she knew was she was stepping through the gates and then she was in her room. Dutifully, she stripped and got in the shower. Worried green eyes so familiar to the ones she missed dearly were pleading with her to take care of herself, so she did. Warm water beat against her back as she stood still. How did any of this work again? She scanned the bottles. Shampoo, right, she needed that. Chunks and dust from the concrete were still in her hair. A thin layer of grime covered her body and the feeling of needing to be clean was all-consuming. The first step of a few confusing ones past with the same empty mind as the ones that followed. The semi-permanent cast on her hand was plastic and was allowed to get wet. Even if it was unnaturally stiff and painful, at least she was able to use it to hold bottles.
When she was done and clean again she didn't move. Once she was out of the shower she might start to think again. Right here was safe. Here she didn't have to think about everything. Procrastination wasn't typically one of the skills she thought of having. Time ran at a steady standstill. Once warm water turned to ice before she could convince herself to blink. Once she blinked, the water was off, she was out of the bath room and laying in her towel on her bed. Her hair was still wet and soaking one of her pillows.
Flat, blank, white of her ceiling stared back at her. No. Red, ruby eyes glared at her. He was always glaring at everything. Never before had she seen the amount of hurt held inside his eyes. He spoke so clearly. His insecurities leaked from him, allowed only for her to hear. He was hurting too. Her selfishness nearly blinded her to it. He was reaching out, searching for some kind of comfort. That had to be why he'd kissed her like that. No. His pain didn't seem to matter to him then. His whole focus had been on her. Maybe a handful of times before had she been subject to his intensity like that. He was still trying to comfort her. How badly that hurt and was welcomed at the same time was confusing. He needed comfort too. Right now one of the men she loved was lying on a hospital bed.
Right now on of the men she loved was hurting by himself. Right now she was pathetic. A knock at her door had her nearly jumping from her skin. Scrambling to get dressed enough to be presentable, she called, "Just a moment." Once she had on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, she went to the door. Red and white, blue and gray, greeted her. "Are you okay?" Todoroki asked softly.
"No." She answered honestly. "Vent?" It wouldn't be the first time she'd used him as a spring board for her problems.
"No." Her answer shocked him, she could tell. It was always easy to talk to the dual user. She might not be as close to him as she was to Iida, but that didn't mean they weren't good friends. Right now she was having problems with herself. There was no need to pull him into all of this. "Aizawa told us what he was allowed to tell. You and Bakugou are free from classes for the rest of the week, by the way. I'm making copies of my notes for all of you."
"Thank you, Todoroki." She tried to smile, but it felt wrong. Tired of standing in her doorway, Todoroki let her know he was coming inside by nearly running her over. "Talk to me, Uraraka. I know Midoriya is in bad shape right now, but you look like someone died." The way he barged right into everything was endearing. His entire being had shifted since their first year. It was surreal to think this '_person' _had been hiding behind that robot. It was surreal to think of how much all of them had changed. In that first year she'd struggled with her feelings for Midoriya. From strong friendship to love and then promising that she wouldn't let her feelings get in the way. In an off-handed way it was another comment from Aoyama that let her know she was allowed to feel while still working towards her goal. Something about humans being complex. That was also right after she realized that she'd fallen for Bakugou as well. Admiration and respect danced together to blossom in a love that rivaled then equaled that which she already held for Midoriya. So much changed. A memory of Izuku in a different hospital bed in their first year brought her crashing back to the present. "Oh, Uraraka." Todoroki soothed. A cold hand was brushing something wet off her cheek. She was crying again? She rubbed her face. No, no more crying. She'd cried for hours last night. Still, the tears weren't stopping. Strong arms circled around her. "It's okay. Cry, if you need to. I'm here to help." Her hands sandwiched between her face and his chest, allowing her to grasp his shirt. Security lowered every barrier she'd tried to keep intact. It was only Todoroki here. Silent tears turned into loud sobs. Sobs were minimally muffled into a strong, calm chest. He was similar to both Midoriya and Bakugou and she might have imagined both of them in his place. Comfort allowed an honesty she'd been trying to withhold. Her own inadequacies spilled forth. Unable to help with the villains, she'd done nothing more than call for help like a civilian. Midoriya's limp body in her arms. Blood dripped from his mouth from an oral wound, from cuts on his face. He couldn't hear her calling to him to just hold on. His breathing, she remembered that the most. He was trying so hard to keep on breathing, but it was so oddly quiet. Panic, fear, so intense she choked on it still when the medic had tried to take him away. The evil tone of her voice when she'd not too subtly threatened the poor man. Useless in the face of his compounded injuries, she'd been pulled away from him. Hours spent weeping in front of Bakugou who remained silent, still, but within arms reach. Guilt over letting herself sleep. Guilt at how worried Miss Midoriya had been. How could she ever look at Midoriya again?
Wrestling with her knowledge of the situation and what she was sure Todoroki already knew, she bared everything in whispers. She was in the way, but was too selfish to move. Bakugou's clear feelings, how she couldn't let him have his privacy with Midoriya, even when she knows Midoriya likes him back. Then the confusion at Bakugou's kiss. Anger at it, too. How dare he give her some hope to cling too? How cruel could he be? How could she just stand there, in that vending area, with a smile on her face at a time like this? She was weak, useless, greedy, and obviously crazy. She admitted it then. She told the one thing she'd kept as secret as she could. She loved them. She loved them with everything she had. They'd changed how she viewed heroes, themselves, and herself. If she couldn't protect them, how was she allowed to love them?
*)O(*
If Midoriya Izuku wasn't already dead, Todoroki was going to kill him.
If Bakugou Katsuki wasn't dead, he better pray that an angle of death visited before Todoroki did.
The shaking, sobbing, confession tore through any humor he had at the situation. It might have been wrong to pity someone such as Uraraka. Pity her, he did. Anger also rose up when he looked at the mess she currently was. The ray of sunshine and laughter, the one who cheered everyone on, the person who had personally dealt with a few of his own panic attacks, was a tsunami of grief. All he could do was hold her and listen. This shouldn't have been his responsibility. There were two men who loved her just as much as she loved them who should have been here. He promised, silently, to wring each of their necks. He did his best to give her comfort. When she started to tell him all of her negative thoughts about herself, again, he shut her down. He reminded her that it was okay to feel like that, sometimes; it was normal, but she was in no way those things. Greedy was not a person who stayed up late with him when he worked through his own problems, even when she'd been at school and then work all day.
Weak was not a person who lent their own strength to others on daily basis. Nearly every person in their class, and some from others, had come to her for help on a regular basis.
Useless was not a person who literally held up her friend, her love. Useless wasn't someone who protected themselves from flying cars.
"Crazy might fit though," he smiled with a tease in his tone. Two puffy brown eyes looked up at him in confusion. "Who falls in love with _Bakugou_?" He scrunches up his nose for emphasis. The chuckled he received took away a bit of his hidden anger with the blond. "I know. Crazy, completely crazy." This time her tears did stop as she wiped them, a sad kind of smile rooted in place. He couldn't resist. "Let me know if you need a straight jacket."
"Oh, it's too late for that." She actually grinned back.
The opaque plastic on her hand caught his attention for the first time. "What's this for?" He asked, curious.
"It's broken. The hospital doctors aren't nearly as effective as Recovery Girl."
"But Recovery Girl was going to meet you three at the hospital."
"What?" The brunette was just as confused as he was, apparently.
"She left early this morning to go see you three. As U.A. students she's your primary doctor."
"Wait, Recovery Girl went to the hospital?"
"Yes, that's - hey!" Unsure how to react to the previously crying mess suddenly snatching her phone and running down the hall, Todoroki stood in the middle of her room with a tear soaked, snot soaked, shirt and hope.
*)O(*
His phone was ringing again. Whichever one of his friends it was could fuck right off. He'd just gotten out of the shower. He'd done his part the night before, staying strong for Uraraka. The solitude of the shower had let him cry in peace with no witnesses. Now he was just tired. Tired and sore from sleeping in a chair. His chest hurt, too. It was painful to come to terms with the promise he made. The phone rang again.
And again.
And again.
He snatched the thing, intent on chucking it out the window when he noticed the background lighting up. He used pictures of his friends so even if he was half asleep he would know who to yell at. The one single photo he'd managed to get of just Uraraka took up the expanse behind the answer button. She was in her bathing suit at the beach. They'd taken that trip last year. A wide brimmed straw hat sat crooked on her head as she tilted it to the side, smiling at him. Smiling for him, he remembered. She'd caught him trying to take the picture. Her response to his embarrassment was to smile with everything she had, just for him in that moment. He swiped the answer button and listened.
"Hospital, now." The line went dead. His heart died with it, too. Half a heart beat passed, or it would have if the organ wasn't stuck in his throat. "No," he whispered to himself. Without a second thought he threw open his window and jumped out. His hands sparked then radiated heat, his quirk propelling him towards the hospital. He was only dressed in a pair of sweats and a tanktop. His collar bone protested immensely. It didn't matter. She needed him there. Whatever was waiting, he was rushing to meet it, rushing to meet her. Half way there he could feel his hands start to give out. Shooting, stabbing, burning pain splintered it's way through his arms. He wouldn't make it like this. It was the fastest way, though. He had to be there, to do whatever it was that was going to be needed of him. He couldn't leave her alone to this. "Bakugou! Slow down!"
He almost didn't hear her. Hell, she might have been calling to him for a while now. It happens when wind whips past your ears during mid-flight and you're having an panic attack at the same time. He turned, amazed at what he was seeing for a moment. She was perched on top of Iida's shoulders, her hand reaching for him. Iida was sailing through the sky, looking a tad uncomfortable already. An old part of him shadowed his current self momentarily as he bit his cheek to stop from telling her he didn't need her help. Still, he reached for her. Their hands met, but they didn't stop moving forward. It seemed they were both using their quirks a lot today. Below, Iida started to fall in a controlled decent. Uraraka had really improved her quirk and the control she held over it. Yelling, again, to be heard over the wind, "Recovery Girl is at the hospital with Izuku." They stared at each other for a moment. Patience written on her face, she waited for the pieces to fall together for him; which felt like it was taking too long, even for him. Recovery Girl was with Izuku. Izuku would be okay. That part clicked first. Second was that Izuku would be awake soon. They needed to be there. As much as he physically needed to see Izuku awake and okay, Uraraka must have felt it too. It was the only reason he could think of why she'd be sailing through the sky with him now. "Answer your phone next time," the brunette smiled. "Huh? Can't hear you," he smiled back. One course correcting blast behind them and he pulled her close as they flew through the city. He no longer had to hold up the strain of keeping himself airborne. A constant reminder of his headstrong behavior radiated violently from his shoulder. Breathing was now his primary focus as worry fueled adrenaline left his blood stream in favor of sustainable determination. Damn, he groaned internally, his shoulder was killing him. No sooner did he think it than Uraraka was scolding him. Familiarity with the situation had him grinning. They were okay.
Now he just had to wonder if they would forgive him when he ruined their friendship.
*)O(*
His throat must be feeling whatever it was that eating a handful of needles felt like. His whole body was one giant bruise. His head pounded, reminding him that he had a skull with every heart beat. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times..." Recovery Girl was scolding him. Don't put himself in unnecessary, harmful situation. Don't majorly damage his body every time he fights a villain. Stop making her come to the hospital. To say he was half listening might have been a stretch. Normally he would be giving her his full attention. "Smarts, doesn't it?" She quipped, getting his attention back again. "Yeah," he tried not to whine.
"I'm leaving a few things to the other doctors. That concussion is one of them. You'll be out for three weeks, minimum."
"Three weeks?" He did whine now. "Rest. Take care of yourself. If I hear of you pushing it, I'll extend your rehab without so much as blinking."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Now, where are they?"
"They?"
Neither of them got in another word as two people nearly broke down the door. Izuku grimaced at the sound of the metal slamming against concrete. Red-faced, sweaty, and both out of breath, Uraraka and Bakugou stared at him from the doorway. Of course they were together. They were always together, he acknowledged. They only stayed there long enough to notice him awake. Two bodies launched at him.
Unlike any other time, dread bloomed in an already rolling stomach. If they flung themselves on him, he might puke on them. Thinking of the pain that it would bring wasn't a pleasant idea either. An angel appeared just then. Well, she was already present but she was angel just then. Recovery girl grabbed both of them by the hem of their shirts, halting their charge. "You two," the old woman said, annoyed. "Where did you disappear to? Usually if my patients are well enough to leave the hospital-"
"Is he okay?" They both asked, cutting Recovery Girl off. An exasperated sigh was their answer. Gray-haired and done dealing with teenagers, she waved them to pass her with only a warning of, "Gently."
Izuku tried to relax, really, he did. They both looked so... guilty, though. Uraraka was already crying. "No, no, no, don't cry." He pleaded, voice scratching and burning as he made sure he wasn't also going to cry. Bad move, apparently. Giant tears beaded and fell before she leaned down to hug him. "I was so scared," her voice barely registered even though she was right next to his ear. The warmth she brought was gone too soon. In a sick turn of events, he was slightly glad for it. His body screamed in protest at contact, but it was still appreciated. Izuku looked to Bakugou. The blond seemed to be finding the tile fascination. "No hug?" Izuku teased. He meant to tease, at least. Relief so clearly smoothed Bakugou's features, Izuku though he'd just granted the other man's final request. Prepared for something other than what he was getting, Izuku sucked in a breath. Strong arms wrapped around his neck, gentle in how they didn't squeeze or press. Over far too soo, Izuku mourned the loss immediately. "I'll kill you if you ever do something like that again." Those were the words Bakugou used, sure. Their meaning was the same as what Uraraka said earlier. They were scared. The guilt of that burden being theirs was suffocating. He didn't want them to worry over him. "Sorry," he muttered. A full apology would have been theirs if he didn't feel like he might cough up blood like All Might if he spoke any more. Their stares were intense. If he wasn't feeling like, well, like he'd been hit with a light pole, he might have squirmed under the attention they both gave him. "Now," Recovery Girl spoke, gaining their attention. One lecture and another greeting from his surprised mother later, he was being released. Uraraka and Bakugou were too, apparently. Something had been said about them leaving the hospital on their own before she'd had the chance to look them over. He had to spend the rest of the week with his mom, on her orders. Even if he didn't have to attend class, he still wanted to be at the dorms with his friends. If he let his mom have her way it would mean she would stop spazzing out, for now. It was for the best. He could give them the space they needed and he could stop his mom from worrying herself into an early grave. Maybe one of them would make a move while he was away. Maybe he would come back to a happier set of friends. In a completely selfish way, that hurt worse than the rest of his injuries. He left the two of them at the train station, remorseful that he hadn't been able to apologize or thank them properly. They would be getting his notes and class work for him, taking on responsibility for him. He was barred from even going to class for the rest of the week. Any physical activity was a no-go for the first two weeks. After that he was allowed a very moderate work out routine. Clear in her delivery of threats, Recovery Girl let him know that even if he was feeling better that this was not something that could be rushed. He kept his head in his hands to block out the motion around him, worrying about whether or not he would actually be happy for his friends.