Notes:

This one is a longer chapter, hope you enjoy!

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

-Mention of torture

-Slight panic attack

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Izuku awoke from his forced slumber with a start, immediately searching his surroundings frantically. The last thing he could remember was Eraserhead passing out in the Doctor's office. The memory made his heart stutter in his chest, a cold and stifling presence worming its way into his abdomen. Choosing to focus on his surroundings instead of that horrible sensation, Izuku scoured the unfamiliar room for any sign of the Doctor or his bodyguards, any sign of a threat. He wasn't in his normal cell. In fact, he'd never been taken to this room before.

He had been deposited on some kind of cot, a simple mattress (if it could even be called that; it was so thin he could feel the cold of the stone floor through the bed) lying on the ground in the corner of the small room. The room was what Izuku would imagine an actual jail cell to be like; it was very small, about the size of a walk-in closet, with only three stone walls. The fourth wall was made entirely of thick metal bars, a section of the bars latched and hinged in what was obviously the cell's entrance. There was a toilet in the opposite corner from the cot, bolted to the ground, no sink accompanying it. Izuku's eyes flitted to the ceiling once he determined that he was, in fact, alone. There were no lights in the small cell, but there was a very small rectangular window in the wall opposite the thick bars. The window was only an inch or so away from the ceiling, barred and locked securely. This piqued Izuku's interests immensely. In his almost five months in the facility, he hadn't seen a window until now.

Standing up, he cautiously peered out through the cracks between the bars into what looked like a hallway. Not seeing or hearing anything or anyone, Izuku carefully maneuvered himself onto the ledge of the toilet. Balancing precariously on the metal ledge, he reached upwards to the small windowsill. His fingers scrambled for purchase on the stone, finding a grip that was definitely not enough to support his full body weight. Izuku took a deep breath, and lifted his right foot to the wall, hoping to push off and up so that he could get a look outside. Doing just that, his fingers straining under his weight and struggling to hold onto the weak grip he had previously managed, he caught a glimpse of the outside world for the first time in five months.

Immediately after, his grip faltered, and the remaining momentum threw him into the nearest wall. Letting out an embarrassing yelp, Izuku crashed first into the wall, and then into the ground. His left ankle was throbbing, having twisted in his misfortune, and his hands, knees, and feet had all been scraped on contact. Breathing heavily, he winced at the small beads of blood now forming on his skin. He could barely feel the pain, though.

He had seen outside.

A mixture of dread and excitement coursed through his body. Even though he only had a quick peek of the outside world, he had learned several important things:

The facility they were in was massive. Izuku could see several large buildings branching off of the one he was currently being held in, all of them devoid of visible windows and doors.

Apart from the connected buildings, there was nothing else in sight. No homes, no businesses, no cars; nothing. Only grass and dirt roads.

Any hope of being rescued was useless. Izuku had originally assumed they were hiding in a city somewhere, most likely underground. The chances of a patrolling hero locating him there were much higher than in the middle of nowhere he was currently.

The realization that escaping or being found was near impossible was a hard one to stomach. Izuku didn't have much hope in the first place, especially after his first few escape attempts had backfired miserably, but the child in him still had dreamt of the day he would be rescued, carried away in the arms of a hero.

Biting back tears, Izuku slammed his closed fist into the wall on his right. It just wasn't fair. His fist hit the wall hard, and the muscles in his hand ached, but it was a welcome distraction for Izuku. He repeated the motion again. And again. And again. Until he was sobbing fully, now, his hand bloody and scraped.

The adrenaline of the pain had begun wearing off, and all Izuku could feel was an empty aching throughout his body. The bitterness, the anger, and the sorrow remained, although more muted than before. His heavy breathing slowed. He didn't have the luxury of breaking down right now.

Pulling himself together, Izuku tried as best as he could to clean himself up. He scrubbed the tears from his face and attempted to wipe away the now dry blood on his knees and feet, but without a rag he couldn't do much. He was about to try and look out the window again when the sound of approaching footsteps stopped him. A pang of fear washed over him, and his breathing picked up once again.

There wasn't just one set of footsteps; no, Izuku counted three at least. And they were lighter than the guards'. It was hard to make out over the sound of his own breathing, but Izuku could identify one pair as belonging to the Doctor: his slow, languid pace giving him away. The other two pairs of footsteps were the lighter ones, both approaching at a quick pace, unfamiliar to Izuku. The unease Izuku had been feeling only grew. New people only meant new problems.

As the group rounded the corner and made their way into the hallway directly in front of Izuku's cell, his assumption was proven correct. The Doctor was the first figure Izuku could see approaching the cell's door. Behind him were two women, both dressed simply: entirely plain and easily forgettable. Neither of them looked necessarily dangerous or threatening, which was confusing. Both of the women held their hands clasped behind their backs, walking with their heads slightly bowed. Realization dawned on Izuku. It seemed like they were some type of assistants- helpers almost.

Izuku was pulled out of his musings when the Doctor, now directly in front of the cell's bars, began to speak.

"Ah, it looks like you got yourself into a bit of trouble, my boy. No matter: you'll be cleaned up soon enough. We have a very special guest visiting shortly, and you need to be looking your best." The Doctor brandished a sly smile as he reached into his pocket for what Izuku guessed to be the key to the cell. His throat had gone dry the moment he saw the man, memories of their previous encounter still burned into Izuku's mind.

The Doctor unlocked the heavy cell door, swinging it open, and began making his way towards him when Izuku reacted. He scrambled back onto his hands, pushing himself as far away from the approaching figure as possible. His breathing was erratic, and he couldn't stop himself from shaking. He pressed himself into the back corner, similar to a wounded animal being hunted. His wide eyes tracked every move the Doctor made, blood rushing through his veins almost violently.

Upon Izuku's startle, the Doctor had stopped his approach. His eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, still taking in the huddled figure barely a few feet away from him, cowering in the corner. Surprise soon turned to delight, a wicked smile twisting on the man's face. At that, Izuku flinched, bringing his arms up and around his head in a protective measure, his eyes shut tightly.

The Doctor stepped towards Izuku slowly, stopping to kneel in front of the boy. He reached out with one hand, fingers brushing against Izuku's cowering arm, curious as to how the boy would react. Izuku immediately flinched again, his heavy breathing becoming louder and his trembling worsening. The Doctor's eyes widened in fascination. He reached farther, his fingers tracing the skin of Izuku's arm lightly, moving slowly to the boy's sleeve. Deftly, he slid his reach underneath the arm of his shirt, the touch of his hand now cold and uncomfortable against Izuku's shoulder.

Izuku was terrified. The feelings of discomfort, of shame and embarrassment, bubbled familiarly in his chest. Then, the Doctor reached under the sleeve of his shirt. Izuku flinched so hard his head hit the stone wall behind him. A sob worked its way out of Izuku's throat before he could stop it. He covered his mouth tightly with his opposite hand, the one furthest from the Doctor. His tear-filled eyes made contact with the dark eyes of the Doctor, eyes filled with delight and fascination and… realization?

Suddenly, the Doctor retracted his hand, still kneeling in front of Izuku, as a small chuckle escaped his lips.

"Interesting."

Izuku could only look at the man before him in confusion. He didn't understand what was happening. Was the Doctor testing him? It didn't make sense.

Still chuckling quietly, the Doctor continued. "Before our little stint with Eraserhead, you had become much less reactive. I suppose it came with time. But now? Well, it's almost like your first day here. It wasn't expected or intended, but still a nice side effect. I must say I enjoy seeing the fear in your eyes."

The Doctor grinned again, his face alight with sick satisfaction.

It made Izuku so unfathomably angry. He was toying with him. He clenched his teeth tightly, fear quickly being replaced with anger. His eyes darted from the man in front of him (so close Izuku could reach out, could hit him, could do something) and to the women standing still outside the cell. They both had their heads down in a show of obedience.

It was a mistake.

Izuku made up his mind in a second. He knew escaping wasn't likely, and he would never try to get away without Eraserhead, but he could do some pretty bad damage right now.

The Doctor didn't seem to notice Izuku's eyes flashing with anger, too busy going on about fear and whatever sick and twisted thing he was fascinated with this time. Izuku took the man's brief moment of distraction to launch himself forward, ignoring the fear and disgust at being in such close proximity to the disgusting bastard, slamming his head as hard as he could into the Doctor's skull.

Immediately, Izuku rushed to his feet, dashing out of the still open cell door and running down the right side of the hallway, leaving the Doctor and his assistants behind. Ignoring the pounding ache of his head and the startled yell of "GET HIM!" from the Doctor, Izuku ran as fast as he could, not bothering to look back. His bare feet slapped loudly against the stone floor and his lungs ached as he struggled to breathe, but he felt so, so free.

He wasn't a very strong individual, but when it came to running? Oh boy, Izuku could run. Even with an injured ankle, he was quicker than most people. He had lots of practice running away from Kacchan Katsuki and his lackeys between classes and after school, and this wasn't much different. A little more life-threatening, but still similar. He could see a divide in the hallway ahead, one path going left while the other went right. Panicking slightly, he chose the path to the left, feet skidding against the ground in an attempt to keep himself upright after the sharp turn. He could still hear the pounding footsteps behind him, but they sounded quieter than before.

His heart leaping in a mixture of fear and excitement, Izuku realized that he was outrunning the Doctor. He was doing it! A small smile worked its way onto his face, eventually turning into a shit-eating grin as he turned his head back, still running furiously. He didn't know where he got the confidence; maybe it was thoughts of Katski's brashness or the sheer incredulousness of the situation, but Izuku found himself shouting in the direction of the Doctor.

"EAT MY DUST YOU PEDO FUCKER!" A laugh bubbled in the back of Izuku's throat as he turned back forward, only to slam into something firm. Or rather, someone. The figure was thrown backwards with a low 'oof'. Izuku had been going so fast that when he ran into the mystery person, he was thrown on top of them, rolling harshly over the figure's body, skin scraping horribly on the stone floor as his hands tried to slow his tumble. Izuku's head smacked painfully into the ground and his vision blurred.

He tried to get up to run, but stumbled and landed on his knees. Hearing the pounding footsteps closing in, he managed to clammer up, running (more like stumbling) forward. He didn't make it very far before a hand grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him back down onto the ground. His shoulders made hard contact with stone, and he gasped in pain. A leather boot-clad foot collided with his chest and pressed down mercilessly, pinning him to the ground and knocking the air from his lungs. He tried to grab the foot and throw it off of himself, but the figure held strong and wouldn't budge. Fingers still grabbing hopelessly at the boot on his chest, Izuku looked up with hazy vision at the figure holding him down.

He was met with caramel eyes that would almost have been pretty if it weren't for the fury burning in the figure's pupils. The figure, a man, Izuku idly noted, had short brown hair and the palest skin Izuku had ever seen. The most distinguishing feature was the man's mask; it was like the beak of a bird and was red with golden studs running the length of the material. The man wore white leather gloves, and a dark green jacket with a purple feather boa-like neck. He was tall, lithe, and didn't look very muscular, but had no problem keeping Izuku pinned to the ground with a single foot.

Hearing the Doctor's thundering footsteps and wheezing breaths approaching quickly, Izuku doubled his efforts to remove the stranger's foot from his chest. The stranger responded in kind, pressing down even harder. At this point, Izuku could barely breathe. The pressure on his chest restricted the movement of his lungs; he was gasping for air, fighting a battle he couldn't win. Black dots swarmed his vision. Izuku struggled to come up with a solution, some way to get out.

It felt like forever before the Doctor and his assistants rounded the corner, stopping suddenly at the sight of Izuku being pinned to the floor. Izuku couldn't see it, but the Doctor's face had gone incredibly pale as he made eye contact with the mysterious stranger. Still out of breath and obviously frazzled, the Doctor tried to speak.

"A-ah, Mr. Overhaul! You're early, s-sir. Uh, as, as you can see, there was a bit of a… of a miscalculation-"

The masked figure held up a palm, signaling the Doctor to stop his rambling. His eyes were furious, and his very presence was intimidating. Izuku was too tired and out of breath to be scared. A part of his brain was curious; this was the first time he had ever seen (heard, more like) the Doctor so scared. Who was this man? Overhaul? Izuku's oxygen-deprived, barely coherent thoughts were interrupted as the man spoke. His voice was quiet and low but freezing cold, with an anger that could only be described as deadly.

"Why… is there a child running around my facilities." It was less of a question, and more of a demand. The Doctor paled even more, if that was even possible.

"W-well sir, we were just taking him to be cleaned up as you had asked when… when he made a run for it." Gulping audibly, the Doctor waited with bated breath for his superior's response.

Overhaul's cold gaze seemed to pierce the Doctor for an eternity, before moving to Izuku's still struggling form. His eyes narrowed.

"We will discuss your failure at a future time. Get the subject out of my sight and scrubbed down. You have 30 minutes to get him clean and into the experiment chambers. You won't get a second chance."

The Doctor's relief could be heard in his voice, obviously thankful to not have been killed right then and there. "Yes of course, Mr. Overhaul, sir! We'll get him cleaned as you like them."

Overhaul turned his attention once more to Izuku. He pressed his boot harder against the boy's chest, so hard Izuku couldn't breathe at all. Choked gasps escaped Izuku's lips, his hands shaking as he clawed at his throat with one hand, while trying to force the man's boot off with the other. Tears began pouring out of Izuku's eyes, the lack of oxygen making his head pound and his body heavy. Fixing Izuku with a final glare, the man removed his foot and stepped to the side carefully, making sure to avoid Izuku's shaking form, as he continued his path down the hallway, past the Doctor, and wherever he was off to next. Izuku remained on the ground, gasping for air, chest heaving. Once Overhaul's footsteps receded, the Doctor snapped at his assistants.

"Grab him and take him to the baths. I'm going to go prepare the lab, I don't trust myself near him right now; Overhaul needs him alive and I'm very close to killing the cretin right now."

The assistants nodded silently, moving in tandem to lift and carry Izuku to 'the baths', wherever those were. Izuku couldn't find the strength to fight them off; he was still recovering from almost suffocating, and his run had depleted him of much of his energy. He shut his eyes, letting the two women carry him away.

When Izuku opened his eyes several minutes later, he was in some sort of… bathroom? The room was a fairly decent size, with tile flooring and the usual stone walls. To Izuku's surprise, the room was warm. It was the warmest he had been since his kidnapping; steam from a nearby bath curled dreamily in the air, humid and puffy and delightful. Oddly enough, Izuku felt a sense of peace in this new and strange environment. Several showerheads adorned the far walls with privacy sheets separating them, drains embedded in the ground below. To his left, Izuku saw a large curtain from which all the steam was escaping under.

Still too weak to move very much, Izuku could only lay as he was carried beyond the curtain and into the bath section of the room. A large, clear pool of water lay in this area, steaming heavily and radiating warmth that seemed to coat Izuku's entire being. It was like an inground pool, similar to those found in most American hotels, except this one was obviously heated. It was shallow on one end, with a few stone stairs leading into the water, and deeper on the opposite end.

The two women carrying him deposited him gently on a nearby bench (huh, he hadn't noticed that earlier), beginning to strip him of his clothes. At this, the fog previously occupying Izuku's brain quickly dissipated, replaced with its familiar sharpness and panic. He tried to push off their prying hands, tried to tug his shirt back around his shoulders, but his attempts were weak and shaky, and the two women were insistent and firm. Yet, for some reason, they weren't harsh; even when Izuku scratched their arms and went to bite one of their hands (he wasn't super proud of that one), they never hit him, never went to discipline him or yell at him. Instead, they simply continued in their efforts to remove Izuku of his clothing. Eventually growing too tired to fight back and realizing that the two women meant him no harm, Izuku relaxed slightly. He was still furiously uncomfortable at being so exposed in the presence of others, but he would much rather it be the two mystery women than the Doctor.

Once they stripped him of all his clothing, the two women (who were MUCH stronger than they looked), heaved Izuku up and began their journey to the stairs of the bath. One of the women, the taller of the two, stayed holding Izuku gently while the other went to gather supplies (soap, washcloths, and brushes). Izuku fuzzily noted that the women were wearing what looked like pale beige jumpsuits, loosely fitted with the sleeves and the legs rolled up so as to not drag in the water. He looked up at the woman holding him, trying to study her face with his still blurry vision.

She looked young, probably in her early twenties, but she had dark bags under her eyes and obvious stress lines marring her face. Her eyes, a dark brown similar to the color of her hair, were warm and inviting, but refused to meet Izuku's directly. Instead, she just held him, keeping him grounded in their position on the steps of the bath as her colleague(?) made her way back with the newly acquired supplies. Both women were now waist deep in the water, guiding Izuku slowly down the steps and into the shallow part of the bath. The uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability began to fade as the earlier fuzziness made its way back, the warmth of the bath lulling him into an unguarded and comfortable dozing.

The truth was, Izuku was tired. So very tired. And the bath was so very warm. He could feel his tense muscles relaxing, the aching of his shoulders subsiding slowly. The two women began lathering his body in soap, scrubbing all of the collected dirt and grime off of his skin. They weren't harsh, but they were certainly persistent. They paid especially close attention to cleaning off the blood that had since dried on his skin, somehow doing so without overly aggravating the still fresh wounds. With the way they were scrubbing his body, Izuku was sure he'd be spotless soon.

They washed his hair with swift and firm hands, Izuku almost melting into the touch. He was like putty in their grasp, far too exhausted to be embarrassed and so touch-starved that having someone wash his hair was like heaven on Earth. Still in a daze, Izuku could only idly watch with half-lidded eyes as the two women finished washing his body and moved on to his nails. Pulling him to the edge of the bath, they lifted his hands to a wooden bin of sorts as they began trimming his nails, the clippings falling into the bin as they went. His feet experienced the same treatment, his nails scrubbed diligently with a small brush afterwards. The cleaning process continued for another few minutes as the two women checked over his body meticulously for any signs of dirt or grime. As they did this, Izuku let his mind wander lazily.

He wondered why they were being so nice to him, why he was getting cleaned so thoroughly, why the facility even had such a nice bath house to begin with. He had no answers to the first two questions, but as for the last, he figured that some of the staff? Needed a place to unwind and relax if they were really as far away from the city as he hypothesized. It wouldn't surprise him if some of the facility's members roomed here, hence the heated spa. Whoever had kidnapped him must be extremely wealthy. That pulled Izuku's mind to the figure he had most recently encountered. The Doctor had called him… Overhaul? Was he the one who had Izuku kidnapped? Was he the mastermind of all the quirk experimentation?

Izuku's train of thought was interrupted as he was gently pulled back to the steps of the bath, one of the women helping him climb the stairs as the other went to grab some towels and fresh clothes. They began drying him off, and he couldn't help but drift into a deeper daze. The towels were so soft and fluffy and warm, and the clothes were clean and surprisingly comfortable. The shorter of the women, the one with dark red hair and a smattering of freckles, began brushing his still damp curls. The action alone prompted him to close his eyes in relaxation, starting to fall into a light sleep. Although, the past twenty minutes? Thirty? (Izuku really had no idea) had been too good to last.

Right as he was beginning to slip into the warm and soft embrace of slumber, the bath house door slammed open with a bang, startling Izuku and the two women as Izuku's eyes flew open and his head snapped up to attention. Eyes wide, he looked around frantically for the source of the noise, heart thudding and brain still painfully fuzzy with exhaustion. He could hear footsteps pounding against the tile, coming closer and closer, and Izuku's heart sank.

He recognized those footsteps.

Immediately, he tried to use what little strength he had left to hide somewhere, anywhere, but the grips on his arms tightened. He looked up at the taller woman, the one with warm eyes, pleading with her silently to let him go, but she only averted her gaze, a look of guilt and sorrow hidden from Izuku's line of sight. All too soon the Doctor yanked the curtain in front of the bath open with a slight screech as the metal bar scraped against the curtain hangers.

Izuku swallowed his feelings of betrayal as he turned his gaze from the woman on his left down to the tiled floor, refusing to look at the approaching man ahead. Of course, no one would help him here. How could he forget.

Bile stung the back of Izuku's throat, and he could barely hear the Doctor's brief exchange with the two women, but he forced himself to listen. He wasn't safe; he needed to pay attention.

"Is he ready?" The Doctor's low voice rang loud in the quiet room, tone obviously tense. He was met with a curt nod from the shorter woman. Wasting no time, the Doctor stepped forward to harshly yank Izuku from the women's grasps. Izuku stumbled slightly, still weak from his previous escapade, as the man dragged him through the room and out into the cold hallway. Izuku was hit with a violent shiver as the warm air of the bathroom was suddenly replaced with a frigid and uncomfortable draft. The hand on his upper arm only tightened, gripping him so fiercely that Izuku was sure he would be left with a bruise.

With a quick and impatient pace, the Doctor set off down the hallway, still pulling Izuku in his stead. Izuku's bare feet could be heard slapping against the ground in a rushed manner, the 'plop plop plop' comically accompanying the harsh 'clicks' of the Doctor's shoes meeting stone. Normally, Izuku would struggle and pull his arm to free himself, but at the moment he barely had the energy to keep himself upright. Everything felt sluggish, and his body felt hard to control. If it weren't for the arm on his shoulder, Izuku would have face-planted in the hallway immediately. He tried to pay attention to the path they were taking, but after counting five right turns and an unknown number of left turns, Izuku abandoned his efforts. He could barely remember his last name in this pathetic state; trying to remember the layout of a labyrinth was hopeless.

Eventually, they approached a metal door, the only distinguishing feature being a plaque on the right of the door frame with a simple "Exam #1" printed in small white lettering. Under the plaque lay a keypad, with no markings or numbers; only a series of unlabeled buttons and what looked to be a fingerprint scanner. Izuku watched as the Doctor punched in a code (hiding the order in which he pressed the buttons so Izuku couldn't see) and pressed his finger onto the panel. After being met with a green light, Izuku could hear a resounding 'click', signaling the unlocking of the door. The Doctor twisted the door's handle, opened the heavy-looking door, and dragged Izuku inside.

The room was full of medical looking equipment, computers, tables, and so on. It was like the Doctor's office on steroids, and far more high-tech. Everything was white: the walls, the floor, the lights. It smelled like a hospital. Izuku's heart froze. At the back of the room was a metal chair, not unlike the one in the Doctor's office, but this one was positioned to be nearly standing, thick leather straps hanging almost innocently where the arms, legs, head, and even chest would be positioned.

Izuku knew better; this chair, hell, this room was far from innocent. As if sensing his growing panic, the Doctor quickly pulled Izuku to the back of the room and slammed his back harshly against the metal of the chair, immediately moving to strap down his arms to prevent any escape attempts. Izuku's breaths came in quick succession now, growing ever closer to being considered hyperventilating. The feeling of metal against his skin, of being trapped, was too much. But he didn't have the strength to push the Doctor off of him, only able to watch as he finished tightening the restraints painfully.

The man glared at Izuku ferociously, taking pleasure in his obvious panic. Leaning in closer, he relished the flinch it got him.

"You thought I was bad? Overhaul is like nothing you've ever seen, my boy. You'll learn never to try and run again; you've made him very, very mad, and trust me when I say that he's especially viscous when he's angry." Izuku could feel the Doctor's breath on his face, could smell the gross heaviness that came from it, could see far too closely the overly satisfied gin on the man's face. His words only made Izuku's panic swell. He knew better than to try and thrash in his restraints; he'd already made the Doctor angry, and there was no use wasting that energy. So, Izuku squeezed his eyes closed, and focused on calming himself down. He tried thinking of good, happy things. Like math problems, and cats, and Eraserhead. That only derailed his train of thoughts because oh god, is Eraserhead okay? Were they torturing him? Was he hurt?

Izuku forced himself to abandon that line of thinking; it was only causing him to panic, and it wouldn't do Eraser any good if he panicked. He needed to think rationally, needed to calm himself down. Eventually, the fuzziness in his head faded slightly, allowing him the ability to actually think coherently.

Izuku tried to list the things he knew in his head. He knew that he was about to meet this mysterious Overhaul again, and sometime soon. He knew it would be some type of experimentation, most likely very painful. He knew that he had never been in this room before, and that this Overhaul person was someone important, someone with a lot of influence. This didn't feel like the experiments the Doctor had conducted; no, this was more serious, more in depth. There were still, however, so many things he didn't know.

He didn't know why he was cleaned so thoroughly before being brought here. He didn't know why Overhaul was only appearing now, after five months. He didn't know Overhaul's quirk, or what he would do to him. He didn't know what was happening to Eraserhead.

That last thought caused his throat to tighten, and tears to form behind his eyelids. He was so scared. Ever since Eraser had appeared, Izuku had been conflicted. On one hand, he was elated to meet his favorite hero, and beyond comforted to have another human being to interact with, one that was kind and warm and everything Izuku had needed since getting kidnapped (and well before, too). On the other hand, Izuku wished that Eraserhead had never gotten dragged into this mess because he didn't want anyone to be hurt like he had. He was terrified that they were hurting him right now, terrified that they would experiment on him like they had with Izuku. Izuku wished with every fiber of his being that they would let Eraserhead go, or hell, that they would torture Izuku twice as much if it only meant that Eraserhead wouldn't be hurt.

The ache of helplessness was sharp in Izuku's chest, a pang so deep and cruel that for a second he wondered if the experimentation had started already.

As if hearing his thoughts, the door's lock clicked open, the thick metal swinging inwards and clanging shut once more. Izuku opened his eyes to see none other than Overhaul, in all his stupid Big Bird glory. The man's stoic expression seemed to cut right through Izuku, leaving him breathless and absolutely terrified. Behind him, drawing Izuku's attention, were several individuals wearing white lab coats, all making their way to their stations and occupying themselves with some type of work. Izuku had never had so many people present for an examination. Usually it was just the Doctor, maybe a guard or two. But if Izuku counted correctly, there were seven people, not including the Doctor and Overhaul, milling about the room. None of them spoke, and the only noise heard was the whirring of computers, the pattering of feet, and the clicking of pens. Izuku brought his attention back to Overhaul, who was still staring at him. Izuku's throat suddenly went dry. The look in Overhaul's eyes was dangerous. It filled Izuku with a strong, primal instinct to run, to flee, but he was stuck like a deer in headlights. He was frozen in fear, only able to watch as Overhaul made his way to where Izuku was strapped down.

Carefully and concisely, Overhaul undid the strap on his right hand's glove, removing each finger's sleeve individually before pulling off the glove entirely, holding it in his left hand. He had stopped his approach around a foot in front of Izuku, the boy still frozen in fear. Lifting his gloveless hand, Overhaul reached out to touch Izuku's arm, all while still maintaining suffocating eye contact with him.

Finally, Overhaul's fingers made contact with Izuku's skin, and Izuku flinched, eyes shutting tightly. After a few seconds of nothing happening, Izuku opened his eyes slowly, curiously, to meet Overhaul's calculating gaze.

Nothing had happened yet. Why was nothing happening--

That's when Izuku's world fell apart.

Notes:

I hope you liked this chapter! Overhaul has finally made an appearance. Sorry, Izu. I promise that you'll get some Dadzawa fluff soon!