"You've made good progress, Midoriya. But remember, if you overdo it even a little bit, you're going to be stuck here all over again," Izuku's new doctor said, taking off his gloves. (The previous doctor was alive after his visit from Toga, but he'd decided to take an extended vacation after he'd suffered a nervous breakdown.)

"Does that mean I get to go home? And start work again?" Izuku asked, excitement coursing through him.

"It means you can go home and start doing paperwork again," Dr. Fujino said, staring Izuku down emphatically. "You are better than you were, Midoriya, but you're not healthy. You have a medical background, so you should know how serious your wound is. We still can't risk using any sort of healing quirk on you because your body is barely operating as it is. One wrong move and you're back in here with me, all day every day."

"I'll be the model patient," Izuku promised.

"I don't believe you, but you're going to give the nurses an aneurysm if they find you trying to stand by yourself again. I know you're a smart kid, but remind me, what are you allowed to do in your current state?"

Sighing, Izuku recited, "I can move from my bed to the wheelchair with assistance, and I can push myself slowly for short distances."

"And what can't you do?"

"Literally anything else physically exerting."

"Good. I don't trust you, but I do trust your mother to minimalize the number of stupid risks that you take," Dr. Fujino said, staring at him over his glasses.

Feeling more than a twinge of guile, Izuku bowed his head. "I promise I'll try to be a good patient for her. I've already put her through enough."

And Izuku meant those words when he said them, he truly did. But intentions and practice are two very different things.

Inko was more than happy to have her son home. She had been preparing for his return home for the duration of his rehabilitation, but nothing could have prepared him for the challenges that caring for a wounded Izuku would pose. It wasn't that his wound was complicated, or that he needed medication periodically - no, those were things that Midoriya Inko could handle. What she couldn't have prepared herself for was the constant threat that her son posed to his own well being.

He'd always been a threat to himself to a degree, always in the name of saving someone else. While her baby was definitely less capable of saving others, he was just as selfless as ever. Every thoughtless move he made was a danger to him. If Eri couldn't find her favorite pencil, Izuku raced through the house in his wheelchair to look for it. Inko dropped something? Izuku nearly lunged out of his wheelchair to catch it.

As much as she'd love to, Inko just couldn't handle being his full time caretaker anymore - she claimed that work needed her back next week, but frankly her nerves just couldn't take it. So here she was, tasking Shoto with making sure that Izuku stayed alive while she paid someone a visit.

She winced when she heard the telltale sounds of an approaching wheelchair. "Who was it you're going to visit again?"

Smiling faintly, Inko turned to her son. "Oh, just a coworker who's feeling a little under the weather."

Inko could have sworn she saw a gleam in Izuku's eye, but it was gone before she could decipher it. "Right, I forgot. I also forgot to ask you, can Hinata come over to watch Takane's interview?"

"Of course, sweetie," Inko said. She genuinely liked the boy, but he was also one more person with a vested interest in making sure Izuku didn't do anything to further injure himself.

"Thanks Mom!" Izuku said, wheeling away. Inko watched him for a few extra moments, partially out of fondness, but partially to make sure he didn't do anything reckless on the way to the living room - she'd found that a bored Izuku was a dangerous Izuku.

Once she'd made it out of the house, Inko bustled to the police station. It was as lively a place as ever - in the back Saito was yelling about something while Mori complained about something else. Watanabe was at the front desk, but when he saw her he stood abruptly, manilla folders cascading from his desk. Not paying attention to them, he asked, "Is everything okay, Mrs. Midoriya?"

"Midoriya?!" came several shouts from the back.

"Yes and no," Inko said nervously. "I was hoping to talk to Detective Tsukauchi."

"Right away, ma'am."

As Inko passed through the back, several people called out to her, asking if Izuku was okay. Before she could respond, though, Detective Kimura hushed them all, hissing that they would find out shortly. Inko felt frazzled as Watanabe led her back to Naomasa's office. After a timid knock on the door, the man opened it before the detective had responded.

The detective looked confused when he saw Watanabe, covering the receiver of his phone. "Watanabe, I'm on an important call."

"Mrs. Midoriya has an urgent matter, Detective."

Before Inko could refute the claim, the alarmed detective was already hanging up, saying, "I'll call you later, Torino. Something came up."

Impossibly, Inko felt even more anxious than she'd been feeling the last few weeks. "You didn't have to hang up for me, I really can wait."

Looking at her seriously, Naomasa said, "It may not be that someone is dying, but I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't be here with that look on your face if it wasn't something important. Now what's going on?"

Twisting her hands, Inko carefully sat in one of the chairs facing the detective's desk. "I know we agreed that Izuku would come back to work the Monday after next, but I don't know if I can last that long. He's all over the place, and he's always doing things that could hurt him even worse. At least if he was here there would be more people to watch him, keep him from doing anything too reckless."

"Is he okay?" Naomasa asked, forehead creasing in concern.

"I hope so. He's trying to be as active and helpful as he can be, but it's only making him hurt himself more. I can't keep up with him, and at this rate I'm afraid that something will happen without me noticing."

Covering one of the mother's trembling hands with his own, Tsukauchi gave it a gentle pat. "We'll help you keep him safe from himself, Inko."

Meanwhile, back at the Midoriya residence, Izuku answered the door. Upon opening it, his face brightened. "Hinata! You made it!"

The timid boy nodded. "Since I haven't tried to run away or anything, Detective Kimura lets me go out as long as I ask permission and tell her when I get there."

After Hinata had stopped fleeing police custody, they'd been quick to track down his family. However, after they made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with him or his quirk, Detective Kimura had made it clear that they no longer had any connection to him, just before she took him in. It wasn't an easy transition, but Izuku was thrilled to find Hinata more confident and happy every time he saw the boy. (He had to admit, though, it was still a jarring arrangement to him - these decisions had happened in the period where he was always drugged up, and it was such an unlikely combination that his mind hadn't fully grasped it yet.)

"Well, it's good to see you! Come in, come in. Why don't you push my wheelchair into the living room so I'm not accused of overexerting myself? Thanks."

It wasn't until Izuku was situated in the living room between the laconic Shoto and the timid Hinata that he realized that he was in what was quite possibly the most quiet company that he could have found. Alone with Hinata, he could easily coerce the boy into sharing his mind. Alone with Shoto, he could pester his brother into some inane debate or other.

However, both of his companions had intense social awkward habits, and in this moment, their social awkwardness was only feeding that of the other. It was a vicious loop that Izuku himself had fallen into on a number of occasions, but it hadn't been an issue with Shoto or Hinata since the very beginning of knowing them.

Izuku was spared trying to break the awkward silence because as soon as the interview began the stilted small talk died completely the second the newscaster flashed back on the screen.

"Today we're talking to the man of the hour, Officer Takane Sei. It's a name we all know well these days. Who else can say that they've saved the life of none other than All Might, top hero of not just the nation, but the world? Officer Takane, welcome!"

Awkwardly shifting in his seat was none other than Officer Takane. His uniform was pristine, although his smile looked a bit strained.

This had been a genius move on the part of Detective Tsukauchi. In the time that no one knew whether Izuku was going to live or die, word had gotten out that someone had taken a bullet for All Might. The name "Deku" had been thrown around, but outside of select circles, the name was little more than an urban legend, just as Izuku had always intended. People that swore they knew something about Deku were rarely believed, and he was largely treated as a sort of bogeyman.

But once the story of an ordinary person saving All Might got out, the media went wild for it. When the press called, hounding Tsukauchi for the full story, he'd been on his way to check in on the wounded Takane. Inspiration driven by his need to keep "Deku" a secret struck, and thus Takane became the champion of the people. Or at least that was how it was explained to Izuku.

"Thanks for having me," Takane said, finally settling into the chair. His smile was no longer strained, instead showcasing the very smile that the public adored. It was that exact smile that had gotten Takane onto a number of "Most Attractive Hero" lists despite the fact that he was a police officer, not a hero.

"Officer Takane, thank you for being here today. You've done so many interviews that our station feared you wouldn't see the point in doing one more," the news anchor said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"As a police officer, I'm always happy to talk to the public," Takane said, doing a marvelous job of politely ignoring her obvious flirting. "Especially when it comes to matters of public safety. Although I regret to say that I'm not very qualified to advise the public - there are many officers that are more experienced than myself - I was more than thrilled to come on today's show to talk about the importance of having up-to-date carbon monoxide alarms."

"Carbon monoxide? Oh! Of course, the reason we asked you to come on our show," the host said, slightly flushed at her slip. "And I'm sure you have a lot to say on the subject. But before we get to that, Officer Takane, the public is dying to know. Have you had any contact with All Might since that fateful day?"

"All Might has been kind enough to reach out to myself and all of the other officers that were there that fateful day," he said, his smile turning strained. "But back to carbon monoxide alarms…"

Izuku's mind drifted as Takane completely dominated the conversation with the dangers of carbon monoxide, despite the frustration of the news anchor. Almost without thinking, his hand drifted to his gunshot wound. It was still tender, but at this point he adamantly refused to take pain medications, and Recovery Girl was happy with that, hoping that the pain he experienced from literally every movement would be enough to make Izuku rethink any rash decisions. It hadn't helped much, but it was something.

All Might had attempted to see Izuku every single day since the incident, or so he was told. A number of people had stopped the hero, not the least of which was Detective Tsukauchi. Years ago the thought of his hero wanting to talk to him would have made Izuku jump up and down gleefully, but now it made him feel… empty. It was also just one more endlessly frustrating thing that Izuku had to trust the word of others on. Being unconscious for so long was a nightmare for him, especially when so much went on while he was out. On top of that, he'd always preferred collecting his own information, even before he'd made a career of it. Living off of hearsay and doctored stories was enough to drive him crazy.

He snapped out of his train of thought long enough to halfheartedly discuss the interview with Hinata and Shoto before bidding farewell to the younger and allowing the older to push his wheelchair into Izuku's bedroom.

When he'd asked to be pushed into his room, Izuku had done so with the intent to work on some quirk analysis, but once he got there, he couldn't seem to bring himself to do so. Instead, all he could bring himself to do was stare at the wall. As much as he pretended to be simply happy to be alive, when Izuku was alone he couldn't keep up the facade that everything was okay. He was in pain, and exhausted, and terrified that he would never heal correctly. He knew he was the worst patient, but trying to help in whatever ways he could was the only thing that made him slightly like his old self, in spite of the strain he knew he was putting on his body.

The longer he stared at the wall, the farther he sank into his toxic thoughts. Feelings of uselessness and frustration were at the forefront, but too many emotions to count simmered beneath the surface. Just as he was about to be consumed, though, his phone rang.

Startled, Izuku didn't even look at who was calling before he answered. "Hello?"

"Detective Midoriya," a warm, familiar voice said. "You're needed back at work."

Kit's Korner

"Remember people, Midoriya is coming back to work on Monday, but he's still severely injured," Kimura called, watching as officers rushed around, furiously preparing for Izuku's arrival. "He will be permitted to work with paperwork, and paperwork only. On top of that, Detective Midoriya will not be permitted access to any of our current cases that would interest him. Give him parking tickets, give him noise complaints, but do NOT let him see the banana smuggling case, the tofu case, or anything even vaguely related to children. Got that Mori?"

Grumbling as he sorted through an obscenely high stack of files, Mori said, "What about the Yamamoto case?"

As one the police station turned on him. "Of course not the Yamamoto case! It would practically be asking Midoriya to go looking on his own. Give that folder to Watanabe to put in the absolutely forbidden filing cabinet."

The stricken receptionist looked up from the cabinet he had been thoroughly wrapping with caution tape. "We missed one? I already went through three rolls of caution tape and we were already running low. I'm going to have to cut through this if we're going to add another file."

"Who told you to put that much caution tape on there?" Kimura asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Saito claimed it was absolutely necessary if we want to keep Midoriya out."

"Saito, what did I say about-"

"GUYS! They did it!" Sasaki yelled, racing into the room, brandishing something wildly - they were moving enough that no one could make out what it was in her hands though.

"What?"

"What are those?"

"The guys a few stations over were concerned about Midoriya, so they got these babies specially made," Sasaki said, finally stilling her hands to show two yellow metal contraptions.

"Are those what I think they are?" Tamakawa breathed.

Sasaki nodded. "Wheelchair boots. We can make Midoriya park wherever we need to."

"Bless them."

"I might have to make them cookies."

The group celebrated a bit longer until the din was interrupted by the sharp sound of a door closing. "What's going on in here? What's this mess?"

"Oh, Detective Tsukauchi," Sohma said with a cheery wave. "We were just preparing the station for Midoriya's return."

Naomasa considered a moment before slowly nodding. "Carry on."

A/N: I'm not dead, sorry for the longest break between chapters yet. Like you all know, I'm in the first year of grad school, and that is really kicking my butt. I also have a new boyfriend that Kit at least partially blames for the long delay, but it turns out that I have had a whole slew of medical problems I didn't even realize were problems. I've not been great lately, but I hope this brightens your day a little bit. Please be kind in the comments, I just had an anxiety attack from some of my professor's feedback, so I'm feeling a little fragile. Also the world is a giant dumpster fire (specifically America, but unfortunately I live here), so more kindness in the world is needed anyway. Take care of yourselves, my people.