Chapter Text
Screams could be heard throughout the hallway- no- throughout the entire floor.
"Please, stop! Oh my God it hurts!"
"Just hold still will ya- hey! You just kicked me! Do you want to be healed or not!?"
"I think I'd rather have the original injuries thank you very much!"
"Well too bad! You chose me to heal you so I'm gonna be the one to heal you. Now lay back down and let me do my job!"
"Izuku."
He froze. He slowly looked out the corner of his eyes and saw her standing there.
Oh no. Not another lecture from Recovery Girl.
"What have I told you about being nice to our patients? They just got back from fighting villains and this is how you treat them?"
He could feel the guilt rising in his chest. A warm feeling that caused his heart to palpitate and made him want to puke right then and there. She had an odd way of making him feel like he just got caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
He was still as sarcastic as ever, though.
"Sorry ma'am. I'll try not to be so mean to our super strong heroes that can take down a villain twice their size but not stand a little pain."
She just looked at him, said "thank you", and walked away.
The victim hero in the room just stared, wide-eyed at the sarcastic teen in front of him. Did he just call him weak without actually saying that he was weak? That doesn't matter. What matters now is trying to survive Dr. Death's healing process.
---
An hour later, the hero was walking out of the hospital room feeling absolutely refreshed. Not a single scrape or bruise could be seen. The same couldn't be said about his mental state, though.
Izuku met him at the door.
"See? That wasn't so bad now was it?"
The hero, now slightly traumatized from the terrible pain that came along with that sweet sounding voice, just barely looked him in the eye and let out a shaky "yeah" before turning and making a quick escape down the hall.
Izuku closed the door behind him, walking back into the room. He lifted the bloody baseball bat from the hospital bed and sighed.
"Gosh. Now I'm gonna have to clean you again." He said to the aquamarine weapon with the words 'healing stick' etched into it.
As he wiped down the so-called 'healing stick', he could hear the soft click of Recovery Girl's pink shoes as she stepped into the room.
"Good work today, young man."
"Thanks, Recovery Girl."
"Though, I do suggest working on the attitude a little."
There it was again. That warm feeling of guilt rising in his cheeks.
"Ok. I'll try."