Chapter Text
Deku had been gone for three months. Three fucking months where Katsuki had again and again failed to find him. Three fucking months where the fight played out in his head and he tried to find something, anything he could’ve done to stop this. Three fucking months of minutes of sleep every night.
Three fucking months without Izuku.
Katsuki felt like he was dying.
He knew his classmates could sympathize a little; Deku was the heart and soul of their group.
But they didn’t know him like Katsuki did. They didn’t know that without Deku, they could never hope to be all that they could have been. Which is why when they tried to talk to him, to comfort him and tell him lies, he just turned away and kept his mouth shut.
They didn’t get it. They couldn’t possibly get it.
So Katsuki sat in his silence and his pain and devoted every second to getting Deku back. He filled pages of notebooks with theories and possibilities, just like Deku did. He went over that fight in his head a billion times a day, taking in the surroundings and quirks and any possible clue that could lead him to Deku. He stayed up late into the night and practiced different moves until he perfected them, too deep in his head to notice when the sun peeked over the horizon. He skipped meals to patrol the city, breaking out of his room so Aizawa wouldn’t stop him. He barely heard it when people talked to him, and he certainly wasn’t paying attention to lectures in school.
When he got Deku back, when he was whole again, then he could go back to becoming a hero. Because what was the point of becoming a hero without Deku, anyways. There would be no challenge. No reason to try.
No reason at all.
Through the fog in his head, Katsuki heard someone talking to him. He turned to see Kirishima and Mina standing next to his desk. He quickly glanced around the room, realizing that class had ended, then grabbed his notebook and stood from his chair.
“Bakugou? Did you hear me?” Kirishima asked, leaning over into Katsuki’s sightline and waving his hand around.
“No,” Katsuki answered curtly, pushing past them and heading for the door, ignoring their calls after him. If he left the campus now instead of going to the dorm first, he could avoid wasting time and get in a longer patrol. He could go back to the sewer system near where the fight took place and search for clues. There had to be something he hadn’t noticed the past thirty-two times.
Katsuki folded the thin notebook in his hand and shoved it into his pocket. He was still wearing his school uniform, but that didn’t matter. Ever since the fight, he’d been wearing a smaller, portable version of his gauntlets at all times. Hatsume made them at his request, and he was able to hide them under the sleeves of his uniform jacket where his teachers and classmates couldn’t see. They didn’t have quite as much firepower, but they did damage and would be enough for a sneaky rescue. Because if he found those villain’s hideout, there was no way in hell he was leaving without Deku.
--
Izuku didn’t know where he was. Or who he was. Or anything, really.
Well, he did know a few things. He knew that the man in the bowler hat with the milky white eyes and spiky arms was the second most painful opponent out of them all. He knew the tall figure with the hood that released gas into the air made him feel sick and always laughed when he broke a bone. He knew the small man with the red glowing hands and red glowing horns didn’t really care about his health, and only healed him so the others could hurt him again. And he knew the woman with the sharp teeth and sharp smile and sharp eyes and sharp words and sharp everything was in charge.
And he knew he had to leave. So, he made a plan. He spent ever second that he could searching for weaknesses in the attacks, weaknesses in the defenses of wherever he was being held. He didn’t know much about himself, or his quirk, but based on the attacker’s reactions when he lost fights and the things he’s overheard, it was a strong one. And for some reason, they wanted to know about it. And for some reason, something in his head screamed that he could not, under any circumstances, let that happen.
The day of his escape, he went for the tall, hooded person first. As always, they were passed out by the entrance to the ‘medical room’, gas leaking out from under their cloak as they snored and giggled nonsense about violence. Izuku assumed this was a side effect of their quirk, but it could also be a side effect of them being a horrible person. Asshole. It was almost funny how easy it was to steal from him. What kind of guard is unconscious at their post?
He held his breath against the gas and carefully leaned down to snatch the ring of keys off their belt before shoving them in his blood-stained sweatpants pocket and hurrying into the medical office. He didn’t know where he’d gotten the clothes he was wearing, he just knew that his captors wouldn’t give him new ones, no matter how much he bled on them.
After the man with the horns examined him and escorted him back to his cell, Izuku set phase two of his plan into motion. He knew his cell door locked on its own when it closed, and now that he had the keys, the captors wouldn’t be able to get back in. He wanted to get out of here – wherever that may be – before the Sharp Lady came back and made him fight again.
From what he could gather, the fights were tests of his quirk. They wouldn’t stop hurting him until he used the quirk and fought back. Sometimes, on the worst days, he was told to do things he didn’t know how to do, like use ‘the black tendrils’ or fly, and he’d be unable to comply. Those days ended with the most blood, most pain, and most time under the glowing hands and horns.
Focus, me.
Shaking his head to get rid of the terror thoughts and focus himself on his mission, Izuku set his eyes on the impossibly high window in his cell. Its height led him to believe they were underground, and he had to jump up to it to achieve his escape. But, unbeknownst to his captors, Izuku had been practicing. He’d found that, if he really focused, he could channel whatever this power inside him was down to his legs and jump into the air.
I can do this.
Izuku crouched down and summoned the power in his legs, hearing the green lighting sizzle and crack quietly. Taking a deep breath, trying to calm the panicked beating of his heart, he jumped.
He nearly whooped for joy as the floor whizzed away under him and he came closer and closer to the window, until he remembered he still had to land. Shit! He threw himself at the window, hitting the solid wall and knocking the air out of him. His quirk stopped, and he panicked, scrambling his limbs over the wall as he started to slide down. Then, at the last second, he caught the window ledge with one hand and choked on a scream of pain. Fuck, everything hurt.
Forcing down more screams as his body cried out to stop, Izuku grabbed the ledge with his other hand and slowly pulled himself up. He didn’t look down behind him, knowing if he did, he would definitely freak out and fall. He managed to yank himself up until his chest was above the window ledge and face was pressed up against the glass. There were bars on the other side of the window, but he was pretty sure this weird quirk of his could deal with that.
He took another deep breath and activated his quirk, then punched the window as hard as he could, biting down on his lip so he didn’t scream as the glass and metal cut his hand. He ignored the taste of blood as adrenaline shot through him. He was right, the metal bars broke away with one hit and skittered to a stop on the grass outside.
The grass! Well, maybe calling it grass was an overstatement. It was really just patches of dead yellow stuff on grey-brown dirt, but Izuku hadn’t seen outside since…since whenever he was captured.
He hated that he remembered certain things, like grass, but not others, like his own fucking name or how long it’d been. The captors had called him Midoriya once, so he assumed that was the name. Not a full name, though.
Izuku grinned, adrenaline and joy of freedom overcoming the immense pain, and scrambled through the window and out into the world. He tried his best to keep himself from dragging over the broken glass but couldn’t avoid a few grazes. It didn’t matter, though, because he was free! Free!
Almost, he reminded himself, jumping up from the ground and wiping the tears from his eyes. He could feel dirt and blood smear on his cheeks in their place, but he didn’t care.
He looked around, trying to get a bearing of his surroundings. There was lots of tightly packed dirt and more patched of dead grass. Looking up, he noticed a few warehouses in the distance that looked like they would topple over at the slightest gust of wind. Turning behind him, he saw another warehouse, this one slightly less broken down. The window he had climbed out of was a floor window, meaning he was right about being hidden underground. To his left was a chain-link fence, and Izuku could see the blinking lights of a city across a hill or two. He was suddenly hit with the impulsive need to run.
So run he did.
When Izuku came to again, he was slumped over on a bench. He felt like he was going to throw up. His head was spinning. His entire body was screaming. Crap, everything hurt so much. He couldn’t count the number of places he was bleeding from. How did he get here? Did he black out while running? Probably, and now his adrenaline rush was gone, so he was feeling all the pain come back.
He forced his eyes open enough to see and looked up. There was real, lush, green grass under his feet and trees around him. He almost started sobbing right then and there. A few feet in front of the bench was a gravel walking path, but no people. Izuku paused for a moment, confused, then he saw a woman across from him and understood. She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes, then quickly turned away and headed the other direction. He must look like death, all covered in blood and dirt and bruises.
But wouldn’t people want to help him? He was a kid, after all. He didn’t know how old a kid, but he felt like he wasn’t much older than the teenaged boy he saw walking down the path towards him.
Wait.
Izuku squinted at the boy, unsure of what he was feeling. Izuku tilted his head and leaned towards him a bit. There was a nagging tug at the back of his mind as he dragged his eyes over the spiky, ash blonde hair and grey school uniform. He wanted to go to this boy. Did he know him? The boy was looking down at the ground, seemingly deep in thought, so Izuku couldn’t quite see his face, though he doubted he would’ve recognized it anyways.
But he just felt so familiar.
And then the boy looked up and Izuku’s eyes met crimson red ones, and the tiny voice in the back of his mind became a scream.
I know you. You’re one who knows.
Then, the boys red eyes widened, and he started running at Izuku. Izuku’s instincts were quicker than his mind and he was on his shaky feet, activating his quirk and putting his bloody fists in front of his chest. Every muscle in his body was begging him to just die already, but he wasn’t going to let this boy take him down without a fight.
Maybe he knew this boy as an enemy, not a friend. Did he even have friends?
“Stay the hell away from me!” he managed to yell, voice cracking and wobbly. “I’m fucking dangerous, an-and I’ll kill you!” He was literally shaking on his feet, and suddenly the boy in front of him skidded to a stop. Izuku didn’t let his guard down. “Ye-yeah, back off! I don’t care what you know!” Izuku tried, not entirely aware of what he was saying. If this boy fought him, he was going to die. Shit, he might die just standing here. The world was spinning again, and the ground swayed out from under him.
The last thing he heard was, “Deku!”
He thought the voice reminded him of someone
--
Katsuki rushed to his side just in time as Deku toppled to the side, dropping to his knees to catch him and lower him to the ground slowly. His mind was racing.
Deku was back.
But something was obviously very, very wrong. For one, Deku was covered in blood. It was caked in his matted green curls. It dripped down his knuckles. It stained his ripped up white shirt and grey sweatpants. It dried on his freckled cheeks and the corners of his mouth. It soaked through his torn shirt. His arms were painted in shades of black and blue under the splatters of blood and new scarring.
He looked an inch away from death, and Katsuki choked on a sob.
And he’d told Katsuki to stay away. He said he was dangerous. And he looked scared of him again.
And that broke Katsuki’s heart most of all. Deku knew how badly he’d failed. Deku blamed him for this, and he was right.
Katsuki would have to deal with that later, though, because right now, he had to get Deku to somewhere safe. He had to get him back to UA and the teachers. He had to be stronger now because he’d fucking failed before.
Holding back his stupid, weak tears, Katsuki put and arm under Deku’s back and knees and lifted him up with a grunt. He was lighter than he used to be. Shit, how much food had he gotten? Going as fast as he could while being careful not to jostle Deku and worsen his wounds, he made his way back to school. By the time he arrived at front door of the teacher dorms, his uniform jacket was soaked with blood. Deku’s blood. Fuck.
He kicked the door as hard as he could repetitively, becoming panicked. He needed a teacher here, and he needed to get Deku to Recovery Girl, now. He almost started screaming when the door finally swung open, revealing a very grumpy Aizawa-sensei. Fuck him.
“Bakugou, what the he-” Aizawa-sensei’s eyes suddenly widened as he realized what was in front of him, and Katsuki shoved past him and gently laid Deku on a couch.
“We need Recovery Girl, right fucking now,” he snapped. Aizawa-sensei blinked at him, and Katsuki nearly set off an explosion in his face. “AIZAWA, GET HER HERE NOW,” he screamed. Aizawa jumped and ran out the door. As soon as he was out of view, Katsuki broke into sobs and dropped to his knees by the couch. His hands were bloodied, and when he noticed he started crying even harder.
Fuck. He hadn’t been there in time. He hadn’t been able to save him. He failed him. And look what happened to him because of that.
Katsuki choked on another cry and leaned over Deku’s face, pressing their foreheads together like he used to when they were kids.
“Don’t you dare fucking die on me, nerd,” he whispered, then broke into another round of sobs, tears falling on Deku’s face and making tracks in the blood and grime. God, he was pathetic. “I am so fucking sorry.” It was a useless apology. But he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.
Soon, he was being pulled back by Present Mic and Aizawa-sensei as Recovery Girl swooped in to start her work. He couldn’t stop crying, so he turned back and shoved his face into Aizawa-sensei, gripping a fistful of his shirt in his bloodied hands and pulling him closer as he shook with tears.
--
When Izuku woke up, he was staring at a cream-colored ceiling he didn’t recognize. He immediately shut his eyes against the bright light, groaning. Shit, where was he? Immediately, his defenses were on high alert. He shot up from where he was laying down – a couch? – and brought his arms up over his face. But something was different.
He wasn’t bleeding anymore. There were bandages on his hands, arms, chest, and legs. And when he moved his arms, they didn’t hurt as much. It was more of a dull ache than the same sharp pain. …It was similar to when the horned man healed him.
Fuck. Did they get him back?
The panic overflowed in his chest and he turned to jump off the couch, only to find a sleeping person on the ground. He squinted and leaned over the side of the couch, still carefully aware of everything around him. The boy from earlier was there. The one with the ash blonde hair and red eyes. The one he thought he knew. The one who maybe tried to attack him.
What was he doing here? Did this boy kidnap him? The room didn’t look like anything from before. Everything was brighter, and the couches were clean and blue, not covered in cigarette ash and beer stains. The coffee table a few feet away had a neat stack of magazines on it, and Izuku saw a picture of a grinning blonde man with huge red wings on the front of the top one.
Izuku frowned. It didn’t matter how nice this place looked. He could never be sure of his safety. He took another look around, searching for exits or possible traps. What seemed to be the front door was only a little way away from the couch Izuku was on, but the boy was still asleep on the floor beside him. Must not be a very good guard. Izuku would just have to sneak out quietly.
He slid himself over the back of the couch carefully, landing softly on the cool tile floor. He glanced back at the boy, but there was no movement, so he took that as his cue to make a break for the door.
“Midoriya!”
Izuku froze, halfway to the door. They said his name. At least, what he thought was his name. How did they know his name? That means they had to be with the Sharp Lady. Izuku nearly threw up from fear, then steeled himself and activated his stupid quirk, turning to face a smiling man with bright yellow-blonde hair and glasses. He didn’t look like the rest of his captors, but that could easily be a ruse.
Izuku had made it this far, and he wasn’t going to give up now. He mustered up a glare.
“I’m not letting you assholes take me back!” he declared, voice shaking in a way he hated. Come on, he had to be stronger than that. The man didn’t move. Izuku didn’t understand. “What? Force me to fight every day and now you just give up?” He didn’t know why he was egging him on, he should just run. Yeah, he really should just run. He slowly shuffled backwards towards the door as the man walked towards him.
“Midoriya, what are you talking about?” the man asked, sounding almost genuine. But Izuku knew better.
Izuku snarled at him. How dare he play innocent? “Screw you!” he yelled before turning around and bolting towards the door. Suddenly, and arm was around his waist and dragging him back. He shoved his elbow behind him with force, hitting whoever was behind him but not making them let go.
“Oi, Deku! What the hell?”
Izuku faltered, recognizing the voice as the one he heard before he passed out. The one that seemed familiar. When he turned, he was face to face with the blonde boy from before. For some reason, his panic lessened.
He tilted his head and inspected the face of the boy, the nagging tug having returned. The boy was still holding him in place with and arm around his waist.
“Do-do I know you?” he finally asked. The boy’s red eyes went slightly wide and Izuku took his moment of surprise to twist out of his arms, but didn’t run. Something inside was telling him to stay here.
“What?” they boy responded.
Izuku frowned, backing away a little. “I feel like I know you. Do you work for the Sharp Lady?”
“You feel-the Sharp Lady? Deku, what the hell is going on?” the boy snapped, glaring.
“Who the hell is Deku?” Izuku shot back. The other boy’s expression shattered, and his shoulders slowly dropped.
“You’re Deku,” he answered, sounding almost like he was pleading.
Izuku glared at him. “The only name I seemed to have was Midoriya, I don’t recall any Deku.” Not that I remember anything else. “Look, do you work for them or not?”
“Work for who?” the yellow-haired man asked gently, coming around to face Izuku. The blonde boy looked like he’d been punched in the stomach.
“The Sharp Lady!” Izuku cried, throwing his hands up. “Stop playing innocent and shit! If it wasn’t her, then who hired you?”
The man put a hand out and started to approach him, so Izuku jolted back and brought up his fists again. The man quickly backed off.
“Midoriya, no one hired us. Do you-do you remember anything from three months ago?”
Izuku scowled. “I’m not playing mind games, okay? Since when do you guys do that?” he spat. “Aren’t you just-just gonna…beat the shit out of me again?”
The man frowned at him, looking sad. “Oh, God.”
Izuku ignored him, instead turning to the blonde boy next to him. He was staring at Izuku with and expression Izuku could only describe as devastation. Suddenly, the nagging tug became a full-on pull, and the voice was back to screaming in his head.
I know you! You know!
“What do you know?” he asked quietly.
The boy blinked at him. “Huh?”
Izuku moved towards him. “I do know you, don’t I?”
I know you. I trust you. I need to protect you.
Izuku didn’t even try arguing with the voice in his head, it was too strong. The boy opened his mouth like he was going to answer but didn’t say anything.
“You’re not with them,” Izuku breathed, almost smiling. “You’re not, are you? Where am I, then? Who are you?” He was addressing everything to the blonde boy, who was staring at him, dumbfounded.
“You’re right, we’re not with villains,” the yellow-haired man answered for him. “I’m Present Mic, one of your teachers.”
Izuku didn’t look at him. “But who are you?” he asked the boy.
“Katsuki,” the boy finally answered.
“And you know me?” Izuku asked.
“Yeah,” Katsuki confirmed.
“What’s my name?”
“Midoriya Izuku.”
Izuku frowned. “Midoriya Izuku,” he repeated, testing the feel of the words. It felt right. “But what about Deku?”
“Nickname,” Katsuki explained. He sounded like everything he was saying was forced through tears. It made sense. If he knew this boy well enough to feel something through his amnesia, then they must have been close. Izuku forgetting him would probably hurt.
“Oh.” Izuku looked up to meet the boy’s red eyes. “Look…Katsuki.” Katsuki seemed to flinch at his own name. “I don’t-” Izuku sighed, “I don’t know why, but for some reason I know that I know you. I guess…I’m sorry for not remembering.”
“What?” Katsuki snapped, suddenly not sounding so sad. “Don’t be stupid, it wasn’t your fucking fault!”
Izuku startled at the sudden change and took a step back, then paused.
[Did he get out okay?]
Before he knew why, he closed the distance between him and Katsuki and grabbed onto his shoulders, locking their eyes. “Did you get out okay?” he echoed the voice. Wait, what voice? Did he get out from what?
“I-what?” Katsuki said, eyes wide.
Izuku startled and let go of him, backing away. “I’m sorry-that was-I don’t know why I did that.” Did he think something? He did…right? Why did he say that?
Before Katsuki could respond, the front door opened and a shaggy man with long black hair and all black clothes stepped into the building. Izuku yelped in surprised and immediately moved in front of Katsuki to block him from a new possible attacker.
The man glanced at him and gave him a tiny, weird smile. “Midoriya, you’re awake.” Izuku growled at him quietly and Katsuki put a hand on his shoulder.
“Deku, what are you doing?”
“Protecting you, I think,” Izuku explained. He wasn’t sure why he did it either, it just felt like an instinct. He felt Katsuki stiffen behind him.
“Protect-I don’t fucking need protection!” he snapped, pushing him lightly out of the way.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on!” Izuku whispered. “Things keep happening and I can’t control what I’m doing! Everything is so fucking scary, are you sure I’m not gonna have to fight again?” The yellow-haired man – Present Mic – walked over to the dark man’s side and told him something quietly. The other man’s face fell.
“Fight?” Katsuki whispered back. “What do you mean?”
Izuku was starting to panic as the two men whispered back and forth. Whatever they were talking about could not be good. They were going to spring something on him at any moment, and he wasn’t so sure he could fight back right now. He grabbed Katsuki’s arm and locked eyes with him, pleading to whatever God was out there that he could trust him. “Please, I don’t know why, but you’re the only person I trust so please tell me they’re not going to hurt me anymore. Please, Katsuki, I can’t take it-”
“They’re not going to hurt you,” Katsuki said, the sincerest Izuku had heard him so far. “I promise, nobody here is going to hurt you.”
Izuku immediately believed him with his whole heart. “Okay,” he said quietly. He suddenly felt very unstable on his feet and swayed a bit before falling against Katsuki. “Good night.”