Chapter Text
It’d been about a month since you’d been kidnapped and rescued. Only recently had Bakugou stopped verbalizing his apologies, but that was only because you’d insisted. The fact that you’d been taken wasn’t his fault, you always assured. Sure, the bad guys took you to get back at him, but it’s not like he wanted you to be taken.
“What happened was Cider House’s fault and no one else’s,” you constantly reminded him.
Still, his apologies were evident in the food that he made for you, in the way that he held you, and by the way he never left your side. For the last four weeks, society functioned without the number two hero. That didn’t damage the public’s perception of him, though. If anything, his leave of absence helped his image. He was the doting partner, taking time to deal with the aftermath of a tragedy. Bakugou hated that the worst moment of your lives helped him professionally, but there was nothing the two of you could do about it. Instead, you both remained hidden away, ignoring the press.
Todoroki acted as a liaison with his father to secure a vacation home for you and Katsuki. Neither of you were ready to go back to your home yet. The police tape was finally down, and your home was no longer an active crime scene, but everything inside was still a mess. Kirishima and Deku were spearheading the effort to restore your home to its former glory and be a space where you felt safe again. Until then, you and Bakugou were tucked away relearning what it meant to be yourselves and be together.
After your hospital discharge, you’d struggled. The first two weeks you barely slept, and when you did you either dreamed of people breaking into your home or of drowning. It became a common occurrence for you to wake up sobbing and for Bakugou to hold you as he whispered reassurances in your ear. No one else was going to take you away from him. After the first few days, once you were a bit more settled, Bakugou reached out to a therapist that your primary care physician suggested. You each attended individual and couple sessions. You attended because the whole ordeal made you generally distrustful of people now, and you'd developed a fear of drowning. Bakugou met with the therapist to deal with his issues of guilt and blame. You both also leaned heavily on your friends and family.
Sometimes you heard his hushed whispers on the phone to Kirishima as he vented his frustrations. Once, you walked in on him, only hearing him say, “I’m scared Izuku…” before he noticed you and moved to another room. You spent a lot of time chatting with Mina, Jiro, and Mitsuki. Aside from your communications with the therapist and your friends, you and Bakugou spent a lot of time together. Sometimes you just held each other and sat in the quiet, while other times you took advantage of the hiking trails nearby. Climbing mountains worked as a method to build your stamina since Bakugou also began teaching you to better defend yourself. He felt awful that he couldn’t promise this situation would never happen again. Still, he’d do his absolute best to make sure you’d be better prepared.
It was your last night at the vacation home. Neither of you felt particularly ready to leave, but your therapist insisted that the two of you couldn’t isolate forever. To celebrate Katsuki made spicy noodles for the two of you to share. Although this night mirrored multiple other ones, both of you felt the shift in the atmosphere. He hummed a tune as he made the food, and you happily watched him. When everything was done, he placed it before you on the table.
“It’s good,” you noted. “The best you’ve made since we’ve been here.”
He grunted, but you could tell from his expression that he was pleased. He even sat up a little straighter, as if he was proud.
“How are you feeling after our sparring session today?” He asked after a while.
“Good,” you replied after slurping some noodles. “I’m sore, but I don’t mind..." You paused before glancing at him and finishing your statement. "I finally got you.”
Katsuki stopped, mid-chew, and looked at you. “Doesn’t count,” he replied before continuing to eat.
Pretending to be offended, you abandoned your bowl and launched yourself at him. He caught you easily and you settled comfortably in his lap.
“Don’t be a sore loser, Katsuki. You said if I managed to pin you down, then I could wear your Bracers.”
He looked at you. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to tease you again, but then his expression grew serious. He was really studying you. Looking at you like this was something that he did more often. Sometimes it felt like he was committing every part of you to memory, and other times it felt like he couldn’t believe you were real.
“You can wear ‘em,” he mumbled before kissing you.
The noodles were forgotten as he fell, and you fell with him. As you kissed, your hands eagerly explored one another. The two of you hadn’t been this intimate since you’d been taken. There'd only been a kiss or two there and a touch or two here. The incident essentially caused a reset in every aspect of your lives. Whether it was the fact that it was your last night away from everyone or the thought of you wearing Katsuki's things, you desperately wanted him and him desperately wanted you. He sat up but kept you in his lap and in his arms.
How he touched you evolved over the past month. At first, it’d been like he was afraid, but now he was slowly getting back to how it used to be. You were delicate, but you could handle some roughness. He pushed up your shirt to reveal a scar on your side. You couldn't remember when, but at some point, the Cider House Gang gifted you a physical and permanent reminder of your harrowing ordeal. Katsuki traced the lines that began at one point and seemed to bloom, separating, and growing out.
“It kinda looks like the hole you put in the window,” he noted before kissing the scar.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I don’t think I ever told you, but you leaving those clues for me was pretty badass.”
You took his face in your hands and made him look at you.
“I had to think fast,” you said before kissing him. “I knew you’d be able to figure it out. I knew you’d come and get me.”
Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed twelve times. His grip on your hips tightened, and he looked lovingly at you. Your eyes shined, as you returned his expression with one of complete adoration. In six hours, the sun would rise, but you were no longer missing. Instead, you were right by his side where you belonged.