Conflagration

Chapter 7

Izuku bursts out into the cold night, his heart pounding in time with the sound of his feet on the grass. He rushed around the side of the house, hot tears already stinging the corners of his eyes and slipping down his cheeks.

When he neared the fallen man laying in the grass, the words he desperately wanted to speak became caught in his throat behind a ball of nervousness and worry. All he could do was kneel beside him, placing his hand on his cheek and shaking his head slightly.

Please be ok. I don't even know why I'm so worried but please...

It took him an extra minute to calm himself, but eventually, he could push a few words out of his mouth. "Kacchan? C-can you- can you hear me?" He muttered, shifting in his place and slipping an arm underneath Bakugo's body. He tried to lift the man, or at the very least get him to sit up.

The blonde cleared his throat, groaning lowly in response to Izuku's question and slowly opening his eyes. His eyes were missing their usual fire, the attitude that the green-haired man had come to expect every time their eyes met. "Y-yeah, yeah. Could you..." the man paused, lurching up and coughing roughly. He spat some blood onto the grass beside himself, before taking a deep, shaky breath. "Could you take me inside? I can't- I-I mean I feel crusty."

Izuku laughed half-heartedly, his mind barely processing the situation. Why are you laughing? A man that you're supposed to be upset with is laying in your yard, coughing up blood and complaining about his dried-up internal fluids! Stop laughing and call an ambulance!

Though he knew his thoughts were right, Izuku could practically hear Bakugo telling him not to call the authorities. So, he settled with the next best thing. "Ok but, you have to let me clean the... the wounds." He said, hoping that whatever he'd see wouldn't scar him. "I mean, you weren't shot, right?" He asked, earning a shake of Bakugo's head. "Can you stand?"

Bakugo nodded, placing a hand on Izuku's shoulder and using it as leverage to pick himself up off of the ground. He stumbled slightly, moving to the wall of the house and leaning on it. Izuku stood up as well, grabbing Bakugo's hand and slowly pulling the larger man towards the front of the house.

He muttered encouraging words when the blonde winced in pain, his own body beginning to ache at the thought of going through whatever the other male experienced. He couldn't imagine walking with an injury bad enough to make him bleed that much, let alone with enough bruises on his face to make it look like he painted his face purple.

Once they reached the first-floor bathroom, Izuku turned on the light and gasped.

Bakugo's cheeks and lips were covered in cuts full of dirt and tinted red with both wet and drying blood. His eyes seemed distant, like he was present but couldn't focus on anything. "K-Kacchan, what happened to you?" Izuku whispered roughly, pulling off the man's jacket and grabbing the hem of his shirt. He removed that item of clothing gentler, raising it over Bakugo's head and sighing sadly at the sight of his abdomen.

It was in the same condition as Bakuo's face, if not worse. The cuts were larger around his chest as if they were inflicted with a weapon instead of a fist. Izuku moved to the side, opening the cabinet under the sink and pulling out a bottle of alcohol and the first aid kit that Tenya insisted they kept full at all times.

"I just-..." Bakugo looked up at the ceiling, exposing deep purple marks in the shape of hands around his neck. "They think I'm trying to get out again. They're right, but they've never done anything this rough before." He spoke quietly, probably trying to keep from irritating his throat.

"Who is they, Kacchan? Why are people hurting you like this and getting away with it?" Izuku questioned, pulling out a washcloth and coating it with tap water. He began wiping away the blood and dirt from Bakugo's chest and stomach, avoiding the cuts to keep from accidentally pushing something into them.