Hello, all!

So, I'll say it right now: This could, I guess, be considered OOC, but I don't see it that way. I see it as showing Bakugou's softer (extremely softer, actually) side, and him losing his composure and actually having some human decency.

Anyway! On with the show, my dudes!

05/13/19 UPDATE: Hey, everybody. I decided to fix all the weird tense changing from present to past, so now it's all in past tense, like it should've been in the first place. Dang you, brain.

Right. Anyway. You may begin the fic now.

Bakugou never liked the cold.

He didn't know why, but he never did.

He hated it.

Snow. He'd always hated snow, numb and wet and frigid, freezing your insides as the chilliness seeped down into your bones. Turning your lips blue and your limbs blue and gradually sapping the life out of your body, making you colder and colder until you die, he's going to die, he's going to die die die, he's going to freeze to death and it'll be all his fault-

He held onto his friend- his best friend, dare he say it, even though he didn't really even have the right to call him just a friend- more tightly, hugging him closer to his chest, hoping, praying that someone will find them in time.

For once, Bakugou wished he had a different quirk.

He'd never had that thought before, because he'd always loved his quirk. It was absolutely perfect for a pro hero, and he was strong, and he'd be able to surpass All Might with no trouble and become the best. He'd always thought that, and never once doubted his quirk's strength or his own strength.

But now, he hated it. Explosions wouldn't help, for Lord's sake, if only he'd been born with some sort of heat manipulation quirk-

He let out a shaky, anxious sigh and tried to cradle his friend closer to him, despite them already being right up against each other.

His eyes raked over the teen. Chapped blue lips, trembling body, frostbitten fingers. The wound on his forehead had stopped bleeding and the blood was dry.

Bakugou knew they had to get out of there, they had to get out soon, because the head injury was bad enough, but the freaking nerd was unconcious and slowly feezing to death and hypothermia had well set in-

He was sure he'd never felt this hysterical before. Never in the past had he really cared about the other teen's safety. So why was he so scared? If anything, he should be more worried about his own welfare, his hero outfit had even less skin coverage than the nerd's; he wasn't the only one slowly dying of hypothermia-

(He knew he'd last longer. He was so terrified because one of them was awake and conherent and could probably stay like that for another hour and a half- maybe- while the other… the other was unconcious, wounded, already hypothermic and slipping away and he couldn't do anything.)

He shut his eyes. Don't cry, don't cry, you've never cried over the freaking nerd before, don't start now, he's fine, he'll be fine…

.

.

.

.

But he's dying.

.

.

.

.

His eyes snapped open. He stared at the greenette in his arms, watching as he took in trembling breath after breath, looking so weak and feeble.

(He never looks this pathetic, even when I've beaten the crap out of him, he'll always have that stupid light in his eyes and he'll call me 'Kacchan' and never stop following me. The frickin nerd has never looked like this. Never.)

"Oi, Deku."

Why was his voice so rough?

"You- you can't…"

So hoarse?

"You can't die, you got that?"

So afraid?

"It'd be selfish to die, you friggin nerd."

Because if you did, I wouldn't get to apologize.

(He'd do it. If by some miracle the freckled greenette made it out alive, he'd get on his knees and beg for forgiveness for their entire childhood.)

"You have a bunch of people back at UA that actually seem to like you."

I've never really hated you.

(I swear.)

"Roud Face, and that extra with the glasses, even frickin Kirishima…"

They care about you.

"Icyhot, too, and Eraserhead… and I'd be lying if I said All Might doesn't look at you like you're a frickin puppy."

So do I.

"So you can't die, n-not right now."

Please don't die. Please.

Bakugou felt like he should say more, felt like he needed to say more, but he'd always been a "do, don't talk," sort of person, and dimly, he wondered when he had started crying.

The blond sniffed.

Stupid frickin dolt, I said I wouldn't cry and yet here I am.

He was trying to make himself angry, but it wasn't working. There was no possible, actual way for him to be angry. He was trying so hard but he just couldn't be mad, because Deku was dying in his arms and for Lord's sake, where are the pro heroes!?

His lip wobbled, he had to keep himself from actually sobbing and his hand rubbed Deku's shoulder absently, a small attempt to return some warmth to the shivering body in his arms.

Bakugou's head jerked up almost anxiously. He looked around him, hoping to see a convenient flash of blue and red and yellow and All Might, or even one of the other pro heroes like Icyhot's dad or Eraserhead or someone, but the snow-blanketed forest is still and Bakugou hated it. Someone, anyone should have been there by now, freaking Deku was going to freaking die and no one was even slightly worried that they were both missing at the same time? Didn't they know better?

His eyes flickered to the rubble around him, the massive chunks of old, crumbling cobblestone scattered all around him and trapping his legs. They just had to start fighting on the obviously old as heck looking stone bridge, didn't they?

(It was his fault. If he hadn't provoked Izuku then maybe they wouldn't have ended up like this.)

He shifted his legs as much as he could, which wasn't very much. (and he hated that too.) He knew they weren't broken, which really was a miracle in and of itself, but he couldn't bring himself to be grateful because he wished it was a different season, or that he had a different, more heat oriented quirk, or something that would help the teen…

Said teen shivered slightly and pressed his head against the blond's chest, letting out a weak, almost silent whimper.

Bakugou flinched because, in other circumstances, he would've dropped the freckled hero right then and there and stormed off, but now the other's action just hurt because for the umpteenth time he wished he could do something to keep him warm.

He watched as a drop of water fell and landed on Deku's head, and oddly he just felt numb as he slowly realized he was still crying.

"Look what you're doing to me, idiot… I'm picking up your stupid habit." He tried to sound scary, tried to be tough and be his normal, explosive self, but his words lacked any conviction because he knew they wouldn't be heard, and if the heroes could hurry up that'd be great.

He bit his lip, hating how the seconds were dragging themselves by, how each one felt like a decade. He hated how silent and still the trees and snow and the frickin air around them was, how everything was just dead, and soon Deku will be too.

The thought slapped him. Once again he fought the feeling of sobbing outright. He bit his lip harder, tasted the metallic and bitter flavor of blood in his mouth, and rested his forehead on the crown of Deku's head, heaving out a weary sigh.

He clenched his teeth. He'd never been a religious person, and probably never would be, but now he was sending out a prayer to any entity or god or anything that might be watching, just help them.

His lips spoke silent words as tears slowly tracked down his cheeks. He rocked back and forth a little, holding onto his childhood friend as if he was Bakugou's lifeline. The blond subconsciously listened for Deku's fluttery breathing, all the while mouthing a mantra of "Help him, I don't care how just help him, don't let him die, I won't let you take him from me and his friends and Auntie Inko, just help him, help him, help him."

He was begging for a Godsend, or whatever they called it.

Just something that would save the dimwit.

Anything. He didn't care who was sent. Just as long as it was someone and they both didn't freeze.

Bakugou soon trailed off, a tremor running through him. (So focused on Deku, he's completely forgotten that he's not exactly immune to almost below zero temperatures.)

He glanced down at his charge, watching as he breathed, still breathed. (But for how much longer?)

He slowly raised one of his hands- it was trembling, he must be really cold too, but he couldn't feel anything, he was just numb- and pressed it gently against Deku's cheek. He didn't care if it'd look crazy intimate and crazy gay to someone who didn't have context, because the matter was that it wasn't, and he was an inspiring hero and didn't have time to worry about romance with anyone, and frankly wasn't interested with the topic at all.

Deku's cheek was like ice- cold and biting, no residual warmth to be found. Bakugou bit his lip again, tasted more iron, and felt like ripping his hair out.

Why is it taking so long!?

Maybe no god, no entity had heard him. Maybe fate decided that since he was always such a huge douchebag that they'd kill Deku as payback for the world and all the people he'd put down.

.

.

.

.

Deku is going to die.

.

.

.

.

Suddenly, though, the despair in Bakugou's head seemed to shatter, as the sound of crunching snow met his ears and his head whipped up wildly, looking for the source.

A figure quite a ways off, running. They hadn't seen him yet.

Even from a distance, Bakugou could tell who it was, and even though he didn't really like the person he could honestly care less about his petty rivalries at the moment.

Deku needs help.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the greenette for a moment, hoping not to disturb him, then turned in the direction of the figure and yelled as loud as he could,

"Hey!"

Fortunately, Bakugou was a loud person.

The figure stopped, looked around, and saw them. Bakugou managed to lock eyes with them even from so far away. He held his breath as the person didn't seem to hesitate and broke into a full sprint toward them.

Todoroki skidded to a stop beside the blond, breathless. His mismatched eyes darted about quickly, taking in the rubble everywhere and looking worriedly at the pieces trapping his legs, before noticing Deku.

The duel quirk user's breath hitched, Bakugou heard it, and tried not to cringe when he also heard Todoroki's worried and pained inquiry.

". . .Midoriya?"

Bakugou practically growled at him (no, he's here to help, stop being a douche) and barked, mildly irritated, "We don't have time for this. Take him and warm him up now. I need to blast all this frickin stone away."

He managed to drizzle some of his regular venom on the words, sounding a bit like his normal self, though he didn't feel like it at all.

Slowly, as to not jostle him, Bakugou pulled Deku away from him and carefully offered him up to Todoroki. The white and red-haired teen hesitated for a moment, looking unsure, but then reached out and took Deku, orienting him gently so that his head was resting over his heart, his left side.

Bakugou silently let out a sigh of relief- he's safe- before perking up. His eyes flashed to Todoroki's for a moment. Todoroki, luckily, got the message, and took a few steps back, cradling Deku carefully so he didn't move much.

It only took a second or two- he stretched his hands out in front of him, let some sparks loose and then some full, no messing around blasts- and ta-da, his legs were free.

He stood up, and promptly pitched forward, stumbling and almost crashing face-first into the snow.

Of course. My legs decided to take a nap. Frickin great.

Bakugou muttered a few choice curses under his breath as he regained his balance. He turned back to Todoroki, noticing the small, tame flames that were dancing on Todoroki's shoulder. His eyes darted to Deku, whose head and upper section was pressed as close to the heat as possible.

He's not going to die.

(He'll get to apologize.)

Todoroki studied him for a moment, then said quietly, "What about you?"

That was the first, real, true time Bakugou noticed the blue tinge to his fingers and the paralyzing numbness in his legs and arms. His entire body suddenly shook violently and his face stung and felt completely frozen.

Sharply, Bakugou reached up and swiftly scrubbed his eyes clear of any lingering tears that may have been hiding, scowling, and replied briskly.

"I'll be fine. Worry about the friggin nerd."

Todoroki seemed doubtful, looking worried, (I don't need you to be worried about me, Half-n-Half, I need you to worry about frickin Deku; even though you're using your quirk he's still in critical condition,) but nonetheless turned around and began to jog, almost running, going the way he'd come- trusting Bakguou to follow.

Which, of course, he did.

Trailing behind Todoroki, Bakugou felt a weight he hadn't noticed before lift off his chest. He felt… relieved. Optimistic, even. He seemed lighter, even though a tinge of worry still stained his mind. But for the most part, he felt… happy? (when was the last time he had felt that genuinely, and not at someone else's expense or humiliation?)

Deku was safe. He was going to live.

(He felt sort of silly for almost breaking down, but he found that he didn't really regret it. Maybe he deserved to have a scare like that happen to him, as to justify all the crap he'd put Deku through in the past? Yeah… that sounded about right to him.)

Bakugou huffed, but then let the teeniest, tiniest ghost of a smile crawl onto his lips.

You're friggin irritating, Deku, and you're reckless and pain prone, but everyone seems to like you and all of us would feel out of place without you around. So you can't die, not when you've got all of us to drag you back to the land of the living at the last second.

Besides, he thought, eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully, I still have to apologize.

(In the next few days, when Izuku woke, the last thing he was expecting to receive was the most heart-wrenching apology exceeding far beyond what he could ever imagine. He couldn't seem to recall ever seeing Bakugou- Kacchan- cry, really cry before, but apparently, there was a first time for everything.)

So, the reason why I wrote this was that I have read a couple of other fics where Izuku was either dying or close to dying, and Bakugou was LITERALLY the biggest *** to him, and the authors only wrote him showing the subtlest signs of worry. Truth being, that is completely in-character for him and matches perfectly for how he'd act in an episode if such a situation occurred, but I was literally so aggravated with him and just wanted some worried Bakubro for once. So, yeah, that's how this story happened, lol. (The setting was inspired by the one-word prompt my sister gave me- you guessed it, "cold".)

05/13/19 UPDATE: As of a couple of months ago, the decision to make a SECOND CHAPTER featuring Bakugou's apology has been made, and it is currently in progress. This story ain't gonna be marked "complete" until that sucker is out and published for all you readers to see, so stay tuned!

Anyyyyyway, thank you so much for reading! And remember, reviews are candy for an author that has a major sweet tooth :3