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The muddle of ambulance lights cast the sky in an eerie purple, and Bakugo feels as if his heart is stuck out of his chest; open, vulnerable. The smell of death permeates the battlefield, and the city beyond his sight is in a state of ruin.
But there are more important things than that right now.
The EMTs lift the gurney into the ambulance, with a familiar green-haired figure strapped in. Already the makeshift bandages the nurses wrapped around his abdomen have started to seep crimson.
Bakugo watches, breathless, fixated on half-lidded pine-green eyes and praying they won’t shut forever. The EMTs are finished loading their patient and are hooking him up to I.V.s, when the doors open with a BANG!
Ground Zero stands in the doorway, crinkling his shock blanket in protest. It’s not like they had a choice to leave without him anyway.
The drive to the hospital is a blur, and Bakugo can’t bear to move an inch. As the paramedics adjust Izuku’s bandages and attach him to the EKG, his eyes frantically dart from the boy to the heart monitor, boy to the heart monitor, until his eyes strain. Bakugo’s hand squeezes Izuku’s at the mere mention of his current condition.
And then the monitor starts beeping frantically.
Katsuki’s hands freeze, blood running cold.
As the paramedics rush to stabilize Izuku’s condition, panicking because “ we didn’t prepare enough blood for an emergency transfusion!” Bakugo wants to scream.
The most famous pro-hero hopeful in Japan, and they didn’t bother stocking enough O negative for him. If Bakugo could, he would willingly give Izuku all the blood in his body if it means he could stay alive, but his damn blood type wouldn’t even allow for it.
He’d never been religious, but right now he prays to every god watching, to keep Izuku fucking Midoriya alive , even if he looks like a fool.
The paramedics tangle the electrodes and the tubes knot, and every mistake makes Bakugo’s heart clench.
A tap on his wrist.
Bakugo briefly stops squeezing Izuku’s hand and looks down. Izuku is staring at him desperately, choking something out. His once-bright emerald eyes have faded, and his other hand trembles as he reaches out for the blond.
Just say it, please, just say anything, Bakugo thinks.
But he never gets the chance to.
A wail of a flatline, and Bakugo’s whole world comes crashing down.
I told you to not go where I can’t follow.
