A/N: a little update for your Monday 🤞🏼
"Mr. Bakugou."
"Fucker."
The doctor doesn't seem at all bothered by Katsuki's harsh words of greeting, fully expecting the way that the blonde glares at him from where he's seated.
"How are your injuries?"
"Fuckin' fine; what did you expect me to say? You ask me this shit every week."
"You're also very volatile every week."
"Fuck do you expect when I'm being forced to come here against my will?"
"No one is holding you hostage, Mr. Bakugou."
"On the fuckin' contrary, Dr. FuckItAll. The textbook definition of a hostage is a person seized or held as security for the fulfillment of a condition. Henceforth, this is a prime example of a hostage situation brought upon by coercion---among other things. Try your reverse psychology bullshit on someone without at least half a brain, cause it don't work on me."
The doctor pauses for quite some time, hand pausing in whatever the hell he's scribbling down on that sheet of paper to give Katsuki a sharp and calculated stare that practically cuts right through him. Katsuki doesn't waver in his own---not in the slightest.
Eventually, the doctor relents with a sigh.
"Touché, Mr. Bakugou."
"Fuck you."
"As abrasive as you are, you've been very cooperative and receptive to our sessions." The doctors points to which Katsuki rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he folds his leg over the other. The wound itself is still sore but for the most part, he's made a rather fast recovery. "Again, I don't have the option to be uncooperative."
"You---"
"I don't. The circumstances that were handed to me were not choices, they were an ultimatum. They were also threats. As far as I'm concerned, these last few weeks have been a part of a hostage negotiation."
Another pause. The doctor jots something else down in his notes.
"Yes, well...from the tests that we've been issuing to you for the last few sessions, I can tell that my treatment has been very effective. That you no longer have such an unhealthy reliance on your fiancé and others. You should be rather proud of yourself, Mr. Bakugou. Now, we will be able to move on from these tedious session and onto the...final stages of treatment."
Something about the way that he says it has the hairs on the back of Katsuki's neck stand on end. His first thought is to blast this fucker to kingdom come and make a run for it but he's at an impasse and if he loses his shit right now then he can sure as hell kiss hero work goodbye.
"...what do you want me to do?"
"Hm? Well, it's nothing---if only a minor inconvenience. I'll be prescribing some medication for you help with that overwhelming anxiety and perhaps it will quell that nasty inferiority complex of yours. We will see, and I will only require to see you once a month instead of weekly. Just until we are certain that the treatment worked." The doctor says, standing up from his seat to go and bother with something in his desk that Katsuki can't see from where he's sitting.
To say that he's relieved is a bit of an understatement.
"So we're done, then? You're gonna write that note so I can go back to work?" They wouldn't put him back on the field for a while---would probably have him doing desk work and pen-pushing---but Katsuki, for once, doesn't mind at all. He's just anxious to get back on the hero scene. Oddly enough, his rookie rankings have gone up from being shot and out of commission. The publicity has been, for once, positive. It's a fuckin' bummer that he had to get fucking shot in order for that to happen but he supposes that he'll take that in stride. Mirko had a field day with it, that's for sure.
"You won't need it, where you're going."
Katsuki's thoughts come to a screeching halt, palms searing into the arms of the chair that he's in.
"...what did you just say?"
The doctor turns on him with a smile that's nothing short of devious and Katsuki realizes that something is incredibly wrong.
The sound of the door locking from outside startles him and Katsuki panics, confused and incredibly terrified. His first instinct is to try the door, panic kicking into overdrive when his suspicions are confirmed and the door doesn't move.
What the fuck is happening right now?!
"Let me out---let me the fuck out!" He yells, palms crackling as he goes to blow the door right off of it's hinges but he feels a pinch at his neck that stops him dead in his tracks.
A needle.
Whatever he's being injected with stings like hell, but what's most concerning is that the spark in his hands dies out all at once.
His quirk...
"What'd you do?! WHAT DID YOU DO; WHAT HAPPENED TO MY QUIRK?!"
He can't breathe, chest heaving as he struggles to right himself but his vision begins to blur and the only thing that crosses his mind is that he's so scared. Is he going to die here, quirkless and alone?
He swings at the doctor and misses, staggering forward and onto his knees as it becomes increasingly hard to breathe.
It fucking burns.
The doctor's laugh is echoing in his ears like nails grating against a chalk board and Katsuki grapples for him again, trying and failing to hit him only to crumble face forward onto the floor.
"You're quite a strong boy. People usually drop like lead the moment it enters the bloodstream. I suppose I see why the master's son is so infatuated with you; you're definitely quite a specimen."
He steps over Katsuki's body and it's all that the blonde has left to fight the overwhelming urge to sleep. He wants to call out for Shouto. For Izuku. Anyone if they could just please help. He just wants to do the right thing. He doesn't want to die here; not like this. Not alone.
There's a hand rested gently in the messy bed of unruly hair, petting him with a mockery of gentleness as if to get him to settle down.
"You've been so well and so receptive for me, too. The young master will most certainly be pleased that you no longer require such ridiculous mechanisms to function. He wants to break you as you are, not as some sniveling child. Though...I suppose you're still prone to relapse. We'll simply just have to cross that bridge when we reach it." He says, talking mostly to himself.
It occurs to Katsuki that he's referring to Neito Monoma.
If that's even his real name.
"S-Sh-Sh-Shou...t-to..."
His throat feels like he's swallowed fire, hand trembling as he makes one last attempt to swipe at the man above him once more. It falls to the floor with a pitiful noise and the bastard just laughs at him---how pathetic he must seem...
"There there, now. The scary part is almost over."
Katsuki can't keep his eyes open much longer.
"But the hard part? Well, that has yet to begin."
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