When the Strong are Weak [Bakugo x Reader]

32

Unbeknownst to you upon waking twenty-four hours had turned into thirty-six. Sleep had come for you and taken you with a vengeance. Your mind was groggy recalling only bits and pieces of the past week. Standing on unstable legs you shuffled slowly from your shared room with Uraraka using the walls and doorways as support.

Daylight streaming through the front window had you lifting an arm to shield your eyes. Pink flesh caught your attention, making you stop and stare at your arms held up limply. To say you looked like a recovering burn victim was true enough in its own right. The scars covered almost all of your forearms. They told you without words that it hadn't all been a dream. That the pain you had felt, white and blinding, was real.

Maybe a session or two with Recovery Girl will fix it. But you remembered Aizawa's scar and the increasing number Deku had on his arms and hands and knew yours too would be permanent. A constant reminder of what some villains were capable without hesitation or remorse.

The sight, sounds and smells of the living room caused you to frown and wonder just what in the hell was happening. Laughter, not full belly laughs, but light hearted and almost timid met your ears. The scent of chamomile tea filled the air and brought on a sense of calm. Then there was the gathering of friends. Everyone who had gone to Kamino and of course Uraraka were sat around the living room drinking the tea whose scent had pulled you from your slumber. Even Bakugo, who you would have suspected to be hovering over your sleeping body, was smirking at whatever had been said or done.

Momo, one of the few facing your direction and first to notice your presence, cleared her throat to gain the others' attention before nodding in your direction. Heads whipped around, their eyes wide in obvious shock of seeing on your feet. The blatant gawking had you blushing furiously and looking over yourself just to be sure you weren't without pants or, worse still, completely naked.

Seeing that you were in fact completely dressed, though in different clothes than you last remember wearing, you returned your gaze to your friends and gave a small wave and a forced smile in way of greeting.

Todoroki was the first to move but Uraraka pulled  him down as Bakugo stood and approached you slowly. There was a mix of relief, anger and regret etched on his face that made you frown. The height difference didn't quite have you craning your neck to look up at him but almost.

"Are you - did you - how-" he struggled to formulate even one question. He settled instead for taking your hands in his, thumbs grazing over your knuckles, before twining his fingers with yours.

The comforting warmth made you smile and draw his arms around your back before wrapping you own around his waist and laying your head on his shoulder. Breathing in his scent you let yourself sink further into his embrace.

Standing in silence you felt your memory come back piece by piece as you woke up further. Your mind was becoming less and less foggy with each passing minute. There was a part of you, however, that wished you could forget about things that had happened. The pain, for one, you wouldn't even wish upon your greatest enemy. Your screams were another. Surely if you had been able to hear them after regaining consciousness Bakugo had heard them too.

The fabric of Bakugo's shirt agitated your arms bringing your embrace to an end all too quickly. "Half and half brought a salve over the other day," Bakugo told you with a dissatisfied glare at your wounds before moving down the hall. "Lemme grab it."

"My sister makes it quite frequently," Todoroki added. "It should help."

Smiling your thanks you slipped into the empty space beside Uraraka. "You know I hate seeing you hurt," she chided lightly, not really all the upset with you. Still you couldn't help that twang of guilt that pulled at your heart even as she pulled you onto a hug of her own.