Atonement

Summary: "Consider this payback," Bakugou manages, as the grip on his hand weakens, "For everything I've fucking done."

There's a pause, one filled with Izuku's breathless words and Katsuki's struggle to take another breath before he finishes,

"Sorry."

Author's Note: Hey, everyone, this is my first time writing for the fandom after discovering the wonderful world of My Hero Academia.

It's not a happy story but I couldn't get it out of my head after watching all those moments between Bakugou and Midoriya.

Title from the novel by the same name.

Hope you enjoy (and bring tissues too!)

Chapter 1: An Apology

It takes Izuku a moment to realize what's going on.

It's in the midst of a fight, in the middle of fire and rubble, blood and death. It's worse than usual, for once the fight doesn't carry the promise of a victory or justice being served.

He readies himself to charge, to attack and then-

At first all he hears is a scream, one that tears through the air and goes straight into his brain-

"You useless fucking Deku!"

It's something he's heard a million times and more, words so intrinsic to his life they've become background music.

He doesn't think much of it, until he feels the impact and the blast that comes with it. One of Bakugou's explosions propels him away. Away from the fight, the villain and the explosive hero himself.

Izuku manages to catch himself before he falls and yet the anger is there, simmering in his chest.

"What was that for, Bakugou!?" he shouts back at the other, at his rival, friend or enemy – whatever they are now.

(No Kacchan these days).

There's no answer, no swears thrown back at him.

A shift in the atmosphere and his fury dissipates, melting away in the heat of the fires all around.

"Bakugou?" he tries, voice louder and laced with panic.

Worry sets root deep in his heart as his eyes search for the other man. The curtain of smoke finally scatters and he sees him, metres away from where he was a second ago.

No trace of the villain, as though he might have vanished into thin air. Vaguely Izuku registers his quirk might have something to with teleportation and yet he has no time to dwell on it, more pressing matters at hand,

"Why did you push me away!?" he demands, voice harsher for once, "I could have-"

The words dry up on his lips and hang in the air.

As soon as he takes in Bakugou's state he knows. Dread spills into his chest and for one moment he doesn't feel panicked or desperate, just numb.

"No, you fucking couldn't," Katsuki shoots back, tone as biting as ever, "Hell, no one could have survived that hit,'

Midoriya shakes his head, running towards him and kneeling down, desperation washing over him in thick, strong waves.

The blonde's bloodied lips stretch into a small, brittle looking smirk, as though he's just won another round between them,

"Hell, not even you, Deku."

It's the closest he'll get to recognition from the explosive hero and it's what sends bells ringing in his head.

"K-kacchan," he whispers, the nickname rolling off his tongue like second nature.

It's still sounds the same it did so many years ago. For one long moment it feels as though they're four again and their entire life is before them, rich with possibilities,

"Haven't fucking heard that in a while," Bakugou snorts, attempting to shake his head but too weak to go through it.

Izuku presses his hands over him, over his mangled chest, even as he realizes it's in vain. There's no power of friendship in the real world, he's learnt that the hard way.

He shoots up a frantic glance around, the world reduced to smears of black and red. Sirens wail in the distance and if he really listens, he might even hear the Uraraka's voice from far away,

"Help will be here in a few minutes," he tries to assure, lips curling into a warm smile even as his cheeks are wet.

"Come on, Deku…" Bakugou begins, the sentence pierced by a painful cough and more blood, "Hell, we both know there's no way in fucking hell I make it,"

Izuku realizes with the clarity of a cold January morning it's true - there's only so much that can be fixed. Even superheroes can't cheat death.

As if in confirmation Bakugou sounds almost peaceful, the way he never did during his lifetime.

Beyond the swears and harsh words there's acceptance in his voice and it's what scares him the most. Fury bubbles up his chest and he's ready to yell and smash and beg – anything to get the other back on his feet and erase the look of acceptance from his face,

"So what…you're just going to fucking give up!?" he screams, anger and desperation tearing through his words. And that's a first.

It's as though their roles are reversed.

Now he's the one shouting, demanding answers. He can't help it, not when Bakugou's warm blood sips through his fingers. Not when he can see the life slowly melting away from him, the raging fire in his eyes now reduced to dying ambers.

Katsuki attempts to speak, throw back an insult or a dozen but never goes through with it, choking on his own blood.

Midoriya's eyes widen in horror at the sight and he wraps his hands around the boy's shoulders, clinging onto him. He pulls him against his own chest, allowing air to enter his lungs easier.

"Come on, Kacchan, what happened to beating me?" he attempts to tease, to provoke, praying it gets the rise out of him.

It works. One thing he can always rely on is for the other to be angry with him. Bakugou's incessant wrath is the one constant in his life and he's not planning to lose it.

"Of course I'll fucking beat you, you useless Deku," the blonde insists, fingers curling into fists by his sides one last time.

Izuku can't believe he's lived long enough for those words to make him happy. He clings onto the other's body, inhaling in his smell and ignoring the stench of blood and burnt flesh which invades his nostrils.

He lets himself hold him, be close like he never was before. He wants to confess, to say how many times he's wished for this, the intimacy between them a fleeting dream.

But… not like this, never like this.

Hope sprouts in his chest like a weed and he doesn't have the heart to crush it, ever the eternal optimist. Bakugou will live another day and then another and he will, no, they will -

"Just…I'll fucking beat you in the next life,"

The world shatters and Izuku can't stop the strangled sob that flies past his lips,

"Kacchan, just please, no," he begs and it's like when they were kids, he's pleading once more except now everything is different, "Just please, hold on."

Katsuki attempts something like a snicker, the sound broken and out of place on his lips as they're stained red.

"Jeez, I'm the one who's fucking dying and yet even now you have to be a little bitch and cry,"

Against all odds Midoriya smiles at it, realizing he already misses the jabs and insults and he hasn't even lost him yet.

It feels like it, the moment slowly morphing into a memory.

"I told you you'd be the death of me,"

The words because resonate with him on every level, from his heart to his overanalytical mind because they're true, of course they are. It's because of him Kacchan will die, because of his own weakness, his inability to save everyone.

"I know, oh God, I know," he sobs, the sounds muffled against the other's chest, "I am so, so sorry Kacchan!"

For the first time in years he feels weak except this time no quirk can help.

There's another snicker, quieter than the one before,

"Who said I blame you?"

Shock washes over him as he looks up, their eyes colliding, green falling over red.

Bakugou's eyes are half closed, as though it takes tremendous effort to keep them open and he knows from experience it does.

For once there's no anger in them, no lust to hurt and destroy. No aim to be alone at the top, rather something else entirely – a desire to help, to save. For one long moment, an eternity on its own, all Midoriya can think is how much the other has grown, how there isn't a trace left from the former bully.

It's a Catch 22 really, how in his last moments, in his loss and vulnerability Bakugou looks so strong, so mature.

Suddenly he's reminded why the boy used to be an idol to him and why deep down he never let him go,

"I made the fucking choice, I took the hit for you," Katsuki points out, words barely above a whisper, yet speaking volumes, "So don't you fucking dare blame yourself, shitty Deku."

They both know he will but the encouragement still helps, especially when it comes from him.

His hands act on their own as he cups Katsuki's pale face, smeared with blood and sooth. He half expects to be pushed away like every other time and yet it never happens. Perhaps it's because of the heavy blood loss and yet the expression in those half closed eyes tells him otherwise. It's as though there's some hidden reason for the hero to hold on.

Katsuki almost leans into the touch, which sends a wave of shock, similar to a jolt of electricity, down his spine.

"I know you probably don't care but…I'm so proud of you Kacchan," he says, forcing the tears away from his face.

There's no swearing, no explosions this time. For the first time Bakugou doesn't fight off his hand, his words, the silent offer for friendship, possibly more.

In fact he seems to welcome it, allowing himself vulnerability only in death.

Slim fingers curl around his and he's taken by surprise when the blonde pulls himself into a sitting position. Izuku's eyes widen in owe, gasping at the other's will to live, his pure stubbornness to succumb to death and then –

Then a pair of lips crashes against his own.

The world comes to an abrupt halt.

For a small eternity it's reduced to this - the tiny space between them. The bitter taste of blood, Kacchan's dry, chapped lips claiming his own. The way his fingers cling onto his hair, pulling him closer, demanding to feel more.

As though they can make up for the all the time they've wasted, all the words they haven't said.

All the chances lost because of pride and fear.

Of course they have no credit left, Bakugou running on borrowed time.

They part in the end and Izuku can't utter a single word, too stunned with the kiss and too scared with its implications.

"I would've fucking killed myself if I didn't do this," Bakugou grunts, tone uncharacteristically biting for someone who's about to die.

All for One or not, he can't do anything to keep him, make him stay. It's as though he's powerless all over again.

"I've always wanted this," he admits because they've already lost a lifetime in secrets, "Ever since we were kids."

To his surprise Katsuki's lips curl into a small, brittle smile. It looks absurd on his ashy, bloodied face. It's the most beautiful sight Midoriya has witnessed.

"C-consider this payback," Bakugou manages, as the grip on his hand weakens, "For everything I've fucking done to you."

There's a pause, one filled with Izuku's sobs and Katsuki's struggle to take another breath before he finishes,

"Sorry."

Author's Note: English isn't my native language, so I apologize for all the typos and other mistakes.

What did you think of the story? Bakugou dying is one of the very few scenarios I can allow myself to write him as more vulnerable and sincere about his real feelings, apologizing to Izuku for all he's done. Hopefully it didn't come as too cheesy or out of character.

(And I really hope something like this doesn't happen in canon! Let this be reserved to the realm of Fanfiction).

Please share your thoughts, kudos and comments much appreciated! ^^