Chapter Text
Bakugo Katsuki has always been able to define himself and his life by his relationship with one Izuku Midoriya. Like some kind of fucked up Polaris, he can chart his own course from the exact moment that he and Deku became friends. He can trace his fate from the damned fucking moment they became fierce rivals, a time when they were enemies in all but name. However, what he most frequently revisited about their relationship is the moment they moved past rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something like brotherhood. Something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield, in the midst of the natural disaster that was their day job where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher.
They were… coworkers, he supposed.
The moment he realized he was calling Izuku “shitty nerd Deku” in his head with more fondness and—dare he say it—admiration than true annoyance, was when Izuku stood by his side cheering louder than anyone else when he, Katsuki a.k.a “Overkill,” was named the Number One Hero.
And when the next year rolled around and Shitty Nerd Deku was declared Number One, and everyone looked to Overkill as though expecting him to blow up, Katsuki only scoffed and gave a sarcastic thumbs up accompanied by a sneer.
Whenever they teamed up, whether by accident or by design, they always worked well together. Like two dancers following a routine they knew by heart. The two of them had known each other so long it was almost as though they could read each other’s minds. They traded spots as Number One and Number Two Heroes back and forth like it was some kind of game. A game that Katsuki learned to never really mind losing because, if he had to lose to someone, why not to the heir of All Might? Why not to Deku? The quirkless, timid boy who became the powerful, grinning man that inspired nations?
Eventually, their bond in battle bled over to their civilian life.
It started easily enough. After a particularly difficult villain had been carted away by the boys in blue Deku had turned to Overkill with a weary sort of smile. “Drinks?” he had asked, still breathing a bit more heavily than normal.
“You better be offering to fucking pay,” Katsuki had growled. Inexplicably, his acerbic reply caused Deku to light up like a Christmas tree. Katsuki had to hide a smile underneath a glare that deterred Deku not at all.
Drinks lead to dinner parties with their old classmates, which lead to “sleepovers” with copious amounts of alcohol and laughter. Before Katsuki knew it, the idiots he’d avoided in high school had suddenly decided they were all buddy-buddy. He hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten until he got invited to Uraraka and Asui’s wedding ― then found himself dancing with a laughing Kirishima without really knowing how he got there.
By the time he was invited to Iida’s and his wife’s (Mei, he thinks her name is? He just calls her "You" whenever he sees her, because, to be totally honest, that Support Geek freaks him out. But she doesn’t scare him, not at all.) house to celebrate the first birthday of their daughter, he realized that none of them had the same fear of him that they used to. None of them flinched or fell silent when he walked into the room. None of them suspiciously followed him with their eyes. Sometimes, he caught them relaxing upon seeing him.
And he found…that he liked it.
Mostly.
He had hoped that Todoroki would fear him a bit more, especially when that half-and-half bastard had randomly decided to propose to Deku. (Seriously?! Where the heck did that come from?!) Katsuki had then taken it upon himself to deliver the typical “You actually marry him, and I castrate you with fire” talk that he was relatively certain fell into his responsibility to give as Deku’s oldest friend. Though, for some reason, the Halfy married Deku anyway.
Katsuki didn’t cry at the wedding. He shed manly sweat from his eyeballs. So did Kirishima, in case anyone was wondering.
He was friendly enough with Deku that when Kirishima inexplicably dropped to one knee after they had successfully saved a butt-load of idiots from an apartment fire and asked him if they wanted to make their relationship,“like, official for life?” Katsuki had reluctantly asked Deku if he wanted to be his best man.
He had expected the wimpy nerd tears… he hadn’t expected the hug.
It was a day before his wedding, and Katsuki was about ready to just blow up the entire guestlist and the decorations and the fucking priest that fucking Kiri had found somewhere and the stinking flowers that made his palms sweat (more than usual) and the (admittedly pretty) lakeside gazebo where Kiri had decided he wanted to tie the knot. Deku, seeing that “Kacchan” was minutes away from committing arson, mass homicide, or both, ushered Overkill away from the preparations saying loudly over Katsuki’s cusrses that they would be going on patrol.
Deku and Overkill wandering rooftops was far from an unusual sight, but every time they went out, they always gathered a crowd of fans who cheered when Katsuki flipped them off and cooed when Deku gave them a dorky little wave. Loathe as he was to admit anything… Katsuki kinda liked how no one gave a fuck if he gave a fuck about propriety anymore. He had become so successful that people liked it when he told them to go to hell. It…. tickled him.
So, he’d been in a pretty good mood when the report suddenly came in about a robbery in progress. Katsuki had grinned maliciously, letting his quirk snap and crackle over his knuckles while Deku rolled his eyes fondly at his friend’s antics. They raced to where the distress signal had come in from, with Katsuki beating Deku there by a slim margin. A jewelry store. Some punks had decided to rob a goddamn jewelry store in the middle of Jesus-fucking daylight when everyone and their dog knew that a congregation of Pros had gathered in the city for his frigging wedding.
Katsuki made a face… wedding. Ugh. He was getting married. To Shitty Hair. What the heck? Deku snapped him out of his disbelief with a laugh. “Are they serious? They look like they’re what, twelve?”
“Who cares,” Overkill growled. He lit up his quirk with his customary “DIIIIIEEEEEE,” with Deku following behind with a sigh. But inwardly, he had to agree with Deku. The two robbers looked like they couldn’t be out of middle school. One of them had a very obvious smoke screen quirk, but the other didn’t seem to be showing any signs of a quirk. It was too late to assume anything, but Katsuki was almost thirty-five, he could take on these worms.
Ugh…he was almost thirty-five…. Jeebus Christ he was old…..
The kid who hadn’t shown signs of a quirk called out to Smokey as Katsuki burst through the door. He lobbed a blaze of fire right at her, but Smokey was on the ball. Overkill found himself with a face full of thick, putrid smoke as Smokey pulled the other girl clear of the fireball. Katsuki held his breath, batting the smoke away from his face with a quick blast from his own quirk. However, just then, the girl activated her own quirk, clasping her hands together as though in prayer.
With the sound of a bubble popping, Katsuki found himself back in the doorway of the jewelry store, his fireball coming back towards his face. Overkill ducked out of the way, and the fireball hit Deku right in the nose. It didn’t hurt Deku so much as surprise him.
“Time quirk,” Deku said before his mouth took off mumbling at the speed of light. Katsuki knew better than to tune him out, so he listened. Apparently, the little nerd had figured out that Smokey could only emit smoke while exhaling and had a very limited amount he could make at once. And the Timey Wimey Twerp probably only had a half or minute or so amount of time that she could actually play with. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem affected by her own quirk, so, while she kept resetting Katsuki and Deku back a few seconds, she got further and further away, dragging her friend behind her.
It was disconcerting, to say the least. Katsuki would run several steps forward, feel his ears pop and then find himself back in the door of the jewelry store with Deku not far behind him. They kept running into each other, running into walls, tripping over obstacles that magically righted themselves a moment later. Kastuki lit the store on fire twice only to have the flames fly back towards his hands, usually ending up burning Deku in the process.
However, as soon as she was out of sight, they felt her influence abruptly fall away. Deku gave a sigh of relief. “Well, at least that means she has to be able to see us in order to use her quirk.”
“I’m gonna fucking explode her ass!” Katsuki screamed.
“Kacchan,” Deku said warily. “Her quirk is pretty efficient. Don’t get cocky.”
“Too late,” Overkill grinned at his friend, who rolled his eyes once more.
They followed the two kids at a distance from rooftops, careful to not let themselves be seen by either fan or foe. It was unusual for either Deku or Overkill to be very stealthy, so hopefully it would give them enough of the element of surprise that they could get the drop of the Timey Wimey Bitch before she could use that awful quirk again.
What happened next, Katsuki could have neither predicted, nor prevented. As of yet, Timey Wimey had used her quirk on everyone in a specific area to go back in time a few moments…they hadn’t realized she could freeze someone in time. Deku and Katsuki dropped down into the warehouse that they had followed the two children to.
They couldn’t move. It felt like he was dead, somehow, despite his brain working fine he could tell that his heart wasn’t beating. He couldn’t breathe. Every molecule in his body had stopped moving and Katsuki felt the wrongness of the fact creep into his bones. More than that, he couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t feel anything. It was as though his eyes and brain were suspended in thin air. He could see directly in front of him, but that was the only sensation left to him.
And then Deku punched him. Overkill went flying and hit the far wall. Dazed, he staggered to his feet, knowing he had some sort of concussion. He looked back to Deku, just in time to see his friend’s determined face, still frozen. His left arm still extended with that peculiar blue energy Katsuki was so familiar with crackling around his limb like lightning.
A crate
A solid, metal crate
Came crashing down
And Izuku still couldn’t move.
Katsuki’s legs pounded, flinging him closer with every step, his hands stretched behind him, propelling him with explosions. Every inch of him was tensed like a bowstring flung into motion. But he was too late. The crate hit the ground with a sickening CRUNCHing SQUELCH. The scent of blood was heavy in his nostrils. He tasted vomit. He could see the end of Izuku’s hand… he could see that the rest of it… had been completely flattened.
Katsuki felt himself freeze in that death-like way once more. But grief and rage erupting in his chest fired off his quirk and sent him flying. Flying bared-teeth-first towards the girl with the time quirk. It had only been a few seconds.
“TURN BACK TIME, YOU FUCKING BITCH OR I’LL FUCKING SLAUGHTER YOU!”
The girl’s face was white, her eyes wide with terror. She squeaked but didn’t move to use her quirk. “DO IT NOW, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SHIT!”
“He’s not- ” she sobbed. “I didn’t think it would kill him! He’s Deku…”
Katsuki gripped her neck in one hand, lifting her off the ground. She gurgled and choked and gagged and gasped, but he only tightened his grip. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Turn back time. Now.”
“Can’t…cool…down…time…” tears were leaking from her eyes, but Katsuki ignored her suffering in favor of processing what he had just heard. No. No it can’t…. it just… he can’t… He dropped the girl. He grabbed two handfuls of his own hair, dropping to his knees as he tugged at his scalp in anguish. NO. Today…
Today was supposed to be happy.
“He’s not dead!” the girl insisted, her voice rasping and rough. She coughed. It sounded wet. “He can’t be! He’s Deku!”
Katsuki whirled on her. “DON’T YOU DARE CALL HIM THAT! ONLY I CAN! ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN ONLY I CAN HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU!” With every word he kicked her in the stomach. She gagged blood, the crimson oozing from her mouth. He could tell from the way she was breathing that he’d totally destroyed her ribs. But he didn’t care. He lit a fire, hotter than any fire he’d ever produced, in the palm of his right hand. It was so strong, so bright, that it burned him. He brought his hand down, slapping her across the face just as she raised her own hand in a feeble attempt at survival.
Kacchan felt his ears pop.