Archive of Our Own ^beta

The moment he woke up, Bakugou realized it was going to he an “off” day. Despite having only sat upright in bed, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and he was breathing as if he’d just finished a workout. 

It was no secret that his heart was damaged in the war. Everyone knew, and they knew that Bakugou would have to take things slow for a bit. 

What Bakugou didn’t tell his classmates and friends was that it wasn’t just his heart. It was a combination of things. Nitroglycerin, the main component in his quirk, was a vasodilator, meaning it expanded blood vessels and lowered blood pressure. Due to the damage his heart took in the war, it could no longer beat fast enough to counteract the effects of his quirk on his blood pressure. 

Since he was a kid, he always had a high heart rate. It wasn’t uncommon to see it spike to the 120s. 

But he’d only sat up in bed, and according to the monitor on his wrist, it was already 124.

It was a Saturday, so he could’ve spent the day in the dorms, but he had promised Deku he would spar with him, and he’d be damned if he let himself continue to fall behind.

They had agreed to meet at ground beta around noon. It was around 7, so he could probably stay in bed until he had to meet Deku. 

With a shaky breath, he settled back down in his bed. Bakugou hated those days —the ones when he felt useless. How did he go from being one of the best to someone who could barely sit up without having problems?

Deku had rarely been able to use his quirk without it being painful. Bakugou had watched Deku destroy himself with One For All like it was nothing but a walk in the park. 

One For All was gone, and Bakugou couldn’t use his quirk anymore without hurting himself.

What a pair they were. 

For most of their lives, Bakugou had made fun of Deku for being “useless”, and it felt like karma had caught up to him. 

His quirk had always been second nature to him. It was easy to use and never something he had to think about, which was why he never quite understood Deku’s struggles with One For All. 

Maybe that was what he got for being such an egotistical brat growing up. 

Bakugou shouldn’t pity himself. Deku had it worse his whole life. What he was going through didn’t even compare to the things Deku had to face his entire life.

His eyes focused on the small stars stuck to his dorm room ceiling. Aizawa would probably have his head for them, but Deku had insisted upon putting them there to make the room feel more like home. 

When they were kids, Bakugou and Deku had begged their parents to put glow-in-the-dark stars in their rooms, and without realizing it, those stars became a staple of their childhood. 

With the sun shining through the window, they just looked like out of place green plastic, but at night, they brought a sense of comfort, just like Deku said they would. 

Without realizing it, he had fallen back asleep for a few hours. When he opened his eyes again, it was around 11.

What?

He quickly sat up to check his phone, which proved to be a mistake when his vision faded nearly completely. 

Fuck. Deku had wanted to meet up at 11:30 to “hang out.”

As he stood up, the world seemed to sway, but that was too bad. He’d told Deku he’d spar with him, and he refused to miss it. They hadn’t had many opportunities to train together, and Bakugou hadn’t missed the sparkle in Deku’s eyes when he agreed to spar. 

A thin layer of sweat covered his skin, which was not good. More sweat meant more nitroglycerin, which meant lower blood pressure—fuck.

He steadied himself against the bathroom counter. All he had to do was brush his teeth, do something with the giant fluff ball that was his hair, and change clothes. Simple enough. 

After brushing his teeth and attempting to tame his hair with some water, he stumbled back into the bedroom. 

He stood still for a moment, trying to will away the dizzy feeling and the numbness in his face. 

The floor felt like it fell out from under him, and he managed to scramble back to his bed, falling flat on his back. 

There was one key moment when he realized he was going to faint. It was inevitable. If there was one thing Bakugou hated most, it was the feeling of being out of control. 

At that point, there was nothing to do to stop it. His blood pressure would continue to drop, he’d pass out, and then his body would get its shit together and he’d wake back up.

And if luck were on his side, he’d wake up before 11:30. 

He wasn’t in his bed right. He was lying on it sideways, his feet still on the floor, but he really didn’t have the energy to fix it. 

On the off chance he threw up, he went ahead and turned his head to the side. The whole process was so familiar to him that it wasn’t scary anymore. 

He was supposed to call Aizawa or at least someone, but what was the point in wasting their time? It wasn’t life-threatening. He’d wake right back up and be okay. And he was already lying down, so it wasn’t like he needed to call anyone for help. 

His room blurred and began to fade. A high-pitched ringing sounded in his ears, and yeah, he was passing out. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Just let it happen.

As much as he hated giving up control, he had learned a long time ago that fighting it did nothing.

“Has anyone seen Kacchan?” Deku asked, checking the clock for the umpteenth time. 

“No, I think he’s been in his room all day,” Kirishima answered. “Have you texted him?”

“I did, but he didn’t answer.”

They were supposed to meet at 11:30. It was 11:40, and Deku hadn’t heard from Bakugou at all. Bakugou was never late. 

And neither was Deku. He had been in the common area since 10:45. Long story short, he was pretty sure the war had given him time anxiety. 

“I’m going up to his room. Maybe he slept in or something,” Deku decided.

“He always keeps his door locked,” Kirishima said. 

“I have a key.”

“How?” Kirishima asked in disbelief.

“We managed to convince Aizawa to let me have one,” he shrugged, not wanting to go into detail about it.

For a short while, he had struggled severely with nightmares. Sleeping in Bakugou’s room had helped, but Bakugou couldn’t sleep with the door unlocked, and Deku was never sure when he’d have a nightmare.

So, the easiest solution was to give Deku a key to Bakugou’s room. It kept Deku’s floor from being woken by screaming, and it helped both Bakugou and Deku do better in training once they had good sleep. 

The route to Bakugou’s room was one he was familiar with, having taken it more than he would’ve liked to admit. 

When he stopped outside the door, he didn’t hear anything coming from the inside. No music, no movement, no snoring—nothing.

“Kacchan?” He knocked hesitantly on the door. “You in there?”

Deku waited a few seconds, but there was no answer.

“Kacchan,” he tried again. “It’s 11:45. I don’t know if you slept in, but we were supposed to meet 15 minutes ago…”

Again, nothing.

Worry began to make his chest tight. Why wasn’t Bakugou answering?

“Kacchan. I’m coming in,” he warned. 

“Please be dressed,” he added under his breath as he turned the key and pushed the door open. Bakugou was on his bed, but he was lying on it sideways, and he almost looked like he would slip off onto the floor.

“Kacchan?”

Bakugou’s eyes were closed, and his jaw was slack. His skin was unnaturally pale, and his lips were blue. For a second, Deku thought the worst. He’d seen Bakugou like that before. Cold,  pale, lifeless—

Oh, wait. He’s breathing.

Panic attack momentarily averted. 

The room smelled faintly of caramel, and once Deku noticed the way Bakugou’s shirt clung to his skin with sweat, it made sense. 

“Kacchan?” he said quietly, using his palm to brush Bakugou’s bangs out of his face. His skin was warm, but not concerningly so. What worried Deku was how pale he was. Oh, and the fact that he was unconscious. 

Bakugou groaned, but didn’t open his eyes. A response was good, though, so Deku kept touching him. 

“Hey,” he called, running his fingers down to his cheeks. “Kacchan, are you okay? Do I need to get Mr. Aizawa?”

Bakugou made another small sound, and his eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t open them fully. 

Then, a quiet, barely audible, “No.”

“No? No, what? No, you’re not okay, or no, don’t get Mr. Aizawa?”

“‘zawa,” he slurred. “Don’t.”

“I don’t really believe you, Kacchan, but okay…”

Since it was getting Bakugou to respond, he continued touching his face, moving his bangs back, patting his cheeks, anything he thought of. Bakugou likely hated the touch, but if annoyance was getting him to wake up, then so be it. 

Deku tried to count Bakugou’s pulse with his fingers against his wrist, but it seemed to be jumping around too much for him to actually count. 

Eventually, Bakugou slowly opened his eyes, narrowing them at Deku.

“You’re awake,” Deku sighed in relief. 

Bakugou blinked blearily at him a few times, and then mumbled, “Yeah, no.”

“What? What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Bakugou’s eyes slipped shut, and he put his head back down against the blankets.

“Kacchan,” Deku gasped. He was just awake. 

The longer Bakugou stayed unconscious, the more Deku wondered if maybe he should’ve gotten Mr. Aizawa. 

But Bakugou had been better about admitting when he needed help, and Deku didn’t want to betray his trust. If Bakugou said he didn’t need Mr. Aizawa, then he likely didn’t. 

Still, Deku desperately wanted to know what had caused Bakugou to faint, and what was happening to him. 

He should’ve kept track of the time, but he’d been too focused on watching Bakugou. Deku wasn’t sure how much time had passed until Bakugou opened his eyes again. 

“Water,” he grumbled.

“Oh! Of course. One second, Kacchan. Please don’t pass out again.” Deku hurried over to the mini fridge Bakugou had in the corner and grabbed a water bottle. 

“Here.” He passed the water to Bakugou, and he took it quickly. 

Slowly, Bakugou sat up, leaning back against the wall so he could take small sips of the water.

The color was beginning to return to his face, and his lips no longer looked so blue. 

Bakugou set the water down with a sigh, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. Then, he opened them and looked at Deku in confusion. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Oh, you never came downstairs, so I came to check on you,” he admitted. “And I’m glad I did. Are you okay? Why were you passed out? Did something happen? Is it your heart? Did you take your medicine? Did you drink enough water? Did—“

“Deku,” he cut him off, rubbing at his head with a groan. “I’m fine.”

“But you passed out,” Deku stressed. 

Bakugou sighed loudly, then leaned against the All Might Squishmallow in the corner where his bed met the wall. 

His cheeks had gained some color back, but he still looked extremely pale, and Deku didn’t like how exhausted he was.

“It just… happens sometimes,” Bakugou said reluctantly. “Look, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing I do. It’s nothing.”

“You just pass out sometimes?” he repeated.

“Mhm.”

“And that’s fine?”

“Yup. That’s what I said.” Bakugou wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and let his eyes close again. 

“That’s, like, the furthest thing from fine,” Deku reasoned. “What do you mean, it happens sometimes? Just tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

Bakugou didn’t answer, but Deku knew he hadn’t passed out again.

“Kacchan, you promised we’d stop hiding things from each other. What’s wrong?” He didn’t want to crowd Bakugou if he was feeling sick, but he did slide closer to him on the bed.

“Nitroglycerin lowers blood pressure, right?”

“Yeah, one time you got your cluster attack all over my arm, and I felt like I was going to faint.”

“Exactly. It doesn’t take much to drop your blood pressure,” he pointed out. “Right now, my heart isn’t quite strong enough to handle the effects of my quirk on my blood pressure. So, it drops, and there isn’t shit I can do about it.”

“Oh.” Deku took a moment to think over the new information. “Couldn’t you take a medicine to help?”

“It’s trial and error at the moment. Clearly, the stuff they currently have me on doesn’t work at all.”

“Is your blood pressure fine now?”

“Probably not,” Bakugou said honestly. “I just happen to have enough blood in my head to be talking to you. If I tried to move, I’d faint again.”

“Oh, that’s very reassuring.”

“One doctor mentioned it could be a type of dysautonomia rather than an issue with just my heart. But fuck that. I’m probably fine.”

“Um, what?”

“Dysautonomia. It means your autonomic nervous system isn’t functioning right.”

“Autonomic nervous system…”

“The shit that controls all the things you don’t think about,” Bakugou huffed. “Your breathing, heartbeat, digestive system, blood pressure, body temperature, sweating, and all of that fun stuff.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” Bakugou mocked.

What were the chances of Bakugou still being a hero if he did have a form of dysautonomia? How badly would it impact his career? Was it treatable, and how was it treated? 

Deku had a lot of research to do. 

“Well, I talked to All Might and some other doctors at the hospital. They think that when the embers go out, my body won’t know how to handle the sudden loss of power, and my blood pressure and metabolism might be out of whack. So we can be dysfunctional together?” Lightly, he nudged Bakugou’s arm, hoping to cheer him up.

Bakugou gave him a blank, unimpressed stare.

“I was trying to make you feel less alone,” Deku mumbled.

“Thanks,” Bakugou sighed. 

Deku looked around the room. Bakugou definitely couldn’t spar, which was fine by him. His arms had been aching lately, so he didn’t mind taking the day off to rest.

The curtains were open, and it was a bright day. Usually, that would’ve been nice, but Bakugou probably had a headache, and the sunlight probably wasn’t helpful.

Doing his best not to shake the mattress, he got up and closed the curtains. Then, he grabbed a blanket from the rack Bakugou had next to his closet. 

“What are you doing?” Bakugou grumbled.

“Changing our sparring hangout into a movie hangout!”

Bakugou let out a harsh breath as if it was the worst idea ever, but Deku knew he was only being dramatic. 

“Do you want to get under your covers, or are you good where you are?”

“Uh. I don’t want to chance moving.”

“Okay,” Deku said slowly, taking in Bakugou’s current position. He was awkwardly slumped against the stuffed animal, his head resting against the wall in an uncomfortable-looking manner. “Do you want me to try to fix your pillow situation?”

“Yeah. Don’t panic if I faint.”

“I will,” Deku said under his breath. Carefully, he got his hand under Bakugou’s back. As he sat him upright, his eyes frantically darted back and forth between where he was adjusting the pillow and Bakugou’s face.

He managed to get Bakugou settled into a comfortable-ish position without causing him to pass out again. Yippee. 

Deku sat close enough to Bakugou to drape the blanket over both of them, then flipped through streaming apps to find the best movie. 

For once, Bakugou didn’t have an opinion on which one to watch, and it was strange. Deku wasn’t sure when the last time he’d been allowed to pick the movie was, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. 

Deku picked the first one that looked even slightly interesting, knowing he wouldn’t be watching it anyway. Even if he wanted to watch the movie, he wouldn’t be able to take his attention off of Bakugou. 

He did his best not to show it because he knew Bakugou wouldn’t like it, but he really was worried about him. Bakugou said it like it was something casual, but Deku still didn’t like it. What really bothered him was that Bakugou was unconscious in his dorm for God only knew how long. What if Deku hadn’t stopped by? Would Bakugou have been alone for the whole episode?

“Stop staring at me,” Bakugou huffed. “It’s fucking creepy.”

“Kacchan, I’m worried about you. I don’t like this,” he admitted. “It makes me feel nervous.” Maybe his therapist would be proud of him for using an I feel statement. 

Bakugou’s eyes softened, and he looked away from the TV to look at Deku. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? Because—“

“I swear. It’s over. I’m just a bit light-headed and exhausted, but I’m alright.”

Deku didn’t say anything, only staring at him. He could feel his eyes begin to sting with tears, and damn it, he thought he was past crying over small things. 

He clenched his jaw and held his breath, desperately trying to will away the tears threatening to spill. Despite his attempts, his lip began to tremble and his nose scrunched.

“Really, Deku?” Bakugou rolled his eyes playfully. “Come here, you big baby.”

Bakugou opened his arms, and Deku didn’t waste a second before scooting over to him and placing his ear over his chest.

It was something they had done probably a hundred times since the war. Maybe it was a bit too intimate for their friendship, but trauma made everything different. 

Bakugou wasn’t one to cuddle, yet he let Deku snuggle up to him when he needed the comfort. 

The steady beating of Bakugou’s heart eased his anxiety, but it didn’t make him feel much better about Bakugou passing out.

“How often do you… You know, do this?” Deku asked quietly, and the movie became background noise.

“I don’t know. It’s not something I really track.” 

Well, that was likely the most unhelpful answer, but Deku knew he wouldn’t get a better one from Bakugou.

“Kacchan…”

“Yeah?”

“Can you promise to tell me next time something like this happens? I know you said it’s not life-threatening, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

Bakugou sighed, and it took him a moment to respond. “I can’t promise I’ll let you know every single time, but I’ll try to remember to tell you.”

“Thank you.”

Deku spent the rest of the day in Bakugou’s room, watching movies with him and talking about whatever came to mind. Bakugou let Deku nearly fall asleep on him, but neither of them acknowledged it.