Chapter Text
Midoriya Izuku woke up in the dark of night, eyes slowly blinking as he took in the school’s dim emergency lighting- the soft ambient sounds of people moving around, of medical equipment making soft beeping and mechanical sounds in the distance keeping true silence from taking hold.
Groaning, he shoved up off the cot to sit upright, reaching up and rubbing his eyes as he swallowed, only to feel a nasty case of ‘dry mouth’ going on.
His memories of the past three days greeted him slowly, and he took a sharp exhale as the faces of people he couldn’t save flashed through his mind.
He needed food and water- he could tell his body was trying to replenish blood loss, and he didn’t exactly prepare for recovery before passing out from exhaustion.
Giving his face one last rub to get the last of the sticky sensation of being dehydrated from his eyes, he flexed his quirk to give him a bit more of a wake up rush- the familiar sensation of rushing blood and triggered adrenaline kicking him into gear.
The bundled up lab coat he had been wearing had been tossed into the cleaning bag- but a new one with his Student ID card and lanyard was tucked under the edge of his cot- probably Morioka’s work. Either way, it was the work of minutes to get his outfit organized- the rumpled blue doctors scrubs top still dotted with fluids and beads of now dried blood joining the old coat and being left to reveal a tank top with the word ‘Scrubs’ printed on it. His own little inside joke.
With the lab coat over top, it’s not like there’s much difference either way.
Leaving the cot Izuku took a moment to find his balance- his blood pressure was already trying to fluctuate under his quirk control- a clear sign that he was pretty close to anemic.
Great.
Trudging through the dimly lit hallways, Izuku couldn’t help but glance at the damage. Almost all the windows facing East towards the center of the district had been shattered and blown out- scattering glass and dust through the building that first day. Heck- until the collapse of the hospital had made the school the main medical service area, and caused things to get really crazy- the main injuries had been cuts from the glass. Izuku had stitched up his own shoulder with a touch of blood manipulation where a shard had caught him in the fleshy part of the joint.
Then of course that same wound got reopened when a shelf of medical supplies had fallen on him in one of the final, climatic, aftershocks- and at that point he just hit it with the Medi-foam canister and went back to work- his blood control focused more on keeping his blood a balance of adrenaline, dopamine, norepinephrine, hypocretin and a dozen other chemical composition sharpening his focus and keeping him moving fast as the school repurposed the main exam floors into surgery suites for the rush of casualties.
Hell, he shouldn’t have even been left in a surgery suite by himself- he ended up just being the last one coherent enough who wasn’t already elbow deep in wounded patients or dealing with injuries of their own.
Poking at his shoulder, he could feel the foam- slightly porous and sterile- pressing against the scabbing of his blood. A stop at a sink and he tugged the chunk of foam, about the width and depth of his thumb, from the fleshy part of his skin- small tendrils of blood carving the foam from the wound and breaking down the bio-chemicals even as they started to stitch and realign the deep muscular flesh in the wound and pull back together.
Tossing the chunk of scabbed up foam into a biohazard marked container, he gave a quick rinse of the surface- his blood control tightening around the wound to seal up the flesh. With that done all he had to do was wash away the dried scabbing and flakes. With a bit of attention, he could probably heal his wound by the time he was done with ‘breakfast’.
Or whatever it was called when you ate at two in the morning during a city-wide disaster event.
It took only a few minutes to reach the cafeteria, the darkened room half converted to cots and storage, several of the beds holding sleeping victims or other staff and students- only differentiated by the pale colors of lab coats used as blankets or pillows. On the other side of the room, past a few remaining tables for people to sit at, the counter leading to the kitchen has been left open. On it, trays of simple snacks piled somewhat haphazardly in easy reach, along with a cooler of water bottles in half melted ice.
Stopping by the pile, he reached out and sorted through the options. In seconds, a bottle of water, a pair of granola bars, and a pair of tangerines were tucked in his pockets before he circled the counter and into the kitchen proper.
The dark of the kitchen wasn’t too bad, and Izuku left the lights off. He didn’t need to wake anyone, afterall.
From one fridge he found a carton of Orange Juice- same place that the monthly blood drive always stashed it- and cracked it open. Taking deep chugs of the juice, he wandered into the storage for vegetables and fruits, snagging a half open bag of spinach and hitting the breakfast and lunch carts for a bundle of sliced turkey and a bag of dry steel cut oats. A flour tortilla and a bit of salsa- and he had a serviceable turkey spinach wrap, though somewhat skewed towards a dense core of spinach.
Not the most high brow mix of food groups- but enough to get his blood pressure back down.
For half an hour he sat in the dark of the kitchen, draining the jug of OJ and tossing it into the trash, chomping his way through about a pound of spinach, and munching on dry oats to finish it up.
As he tossed the scraps away, he gave his hands a quick rinse under the sink and flexed his quirk-
And finally let himself turn his gaze towards the high-risk ward. Where he could still feel the faint sensation of his blood beating in someone else's heart- holding severed flesh together even at this distance.
It was… odd. The clarity of the night before- the absolute knowledge of what was happening in the girl's chest, had faded. Now it was just a sense of ‘movement’- the stretch and flex almost like someone was poking him in the shoulder with a regular motion. His control was fading- but the work he’d already done- sealing up and holding cells together, had been enough;
She was still alive.
Turning away from the sink, he glanced down at his hands- the pale, nearly unseen scarring of his years of quirk experimentation criss crossing his fingertips and the pads of his fingers. His blood quirk wasn’t explicitly for healing- that was his own experimentation. His own growth.
Sighing, he turned back towards the still dark hallways, heading down corridors for the storage room. After the chaos of the last few days, he wanted to get an idea of what supplies they still had- and he wasn’t sure just how fast they could restock.
The usual storeroom for the class exercises had been cleared out- but one of the other classrooms had been loaded with bags and boxes of supplies.
Pausing at the door, he took in the sleeping form of one of the professors- Hajime-sensei, who was passed out cold on a bench nearby- before sighing and shoving his way through the door, he knew this one had a tendency to stick somewhat if you didn’t shove it just so-
As the door gave way, Izuku stumbled slightly- before a hand caught his shoulder.
“Whoa now-”
“Shit, Thanks for-” Izuku glanced up and froze- face to face with a gentleman with a scuffed up tophat and suit- his face hidden by a round white mask. “the… save.”
“... I could have sworn that door was locked.” came the figure's voice, soft and tired.
Wordlessly, Izuku slowly held up the keyring he had taken, and shrugged.
“Compress- take care of him.”
The voice was much rougher- ‘Wheezing, sounds like smoke inhalation-’ Izuku’s eyes traced towards the voice- and locked on to a man slumped against the shelving- body covered in blistered burns and scorched skin- ‘Eyes are bloodshot and he’s trembling- sweat soaked hair- Fever. After burns that bad? Infected burns and damaged cells, he can’t cool himself. Fire quirk?’
“Fever reducers are the lower shelf, and should be a red and white box. Burn cream is back along the corner.”
Izuku didn’t realize he was talking until the pair glanced back at him, Compress gently shoving him back upright, even as pale blue eyes took him in.
“You know we’re robbing you, right?”
Izuku couldn’t stop the twitch, memories flickering through his head ( a dead body laid out- brunette, mid thirties, rebar through her stomach- Septic shock, the way her skin burned those last few minutes- before-) , but shook his head to clear it. “Doesn’t matter- I treat injuries. You’ve got a bunch of third degree burns and an oncoming fever and infection.”
The villains shared a look. “So you’re just going… to let us go?”
“If it keeps people alive, I'll tell you what to take and how to use it.” Izuku swore.
The villains had a long moment of silence, a conversation in shrugs and body language that Izuku wasn't really set up to interpret.
In the end, Compress turned back, and pulled out a paper, neat lettering describing a dozen injuries and rough lists of medical supplies- one chunk in a different writing going on about burns.
Right.
He could do this.
He could save more.
“So, the first thing you need are-”