Notes:

No trigger warnings this chapter :)

Izuku wasn't sure what he was doing. Really, he had no idea where this plan had come from. He blamed Aizawa's bad influence. And Katsuki. Both had instilled in him a sense of bravery and rebelliousness that he didn't seem to have previously; Aizawa's presence and training had given him confidence, while Izuku's memories of Katsuki provided him with the inspiration.

Inspiration for what? Well, the inspiration to make a scene, of course. If there was one thing Katsuki taught Izuku, it was how to get all eyes on him, whether it be for better or for worse. And so, that was how Izuku found himself in his current predicament.

When he had woken up to an empty cell, Izuku had panicked. He knew, logically, that Aizawa was being tortured, most likely by Overhaul. He couldn't just sit by and let that happen. No, he had to do something. If their attention was on him instead of Aizawa, it meant that 'Zawa wouldn't get hurt as badly.

So Izuku made a scene.

First, he looked for a weapon. Something sharp or blunt, anything he could hurt himself or someone else with. Everything in the room was bolted to the floor, so that left Izuku with very few options. The only items not bolted to the floor were the ratty blankets and pillows on the bed, the bar of soap on the sink, and the paper and crayons scattered around the floor. While he could use the blankets to wrap around someone's throat (Izuku didn't like that idea), he decided instead on finding something sharp. It just so happened that there was a light bulb screwed into the ceiling. It was surrounded by a metal cage, but the bars were thin and far enough apart that something could slip through.

Something small and easy to throw, but heavy enough to break the bulb. Like a bar of soap, for example.

Throwing the bar of soap hard enough and accurately enough to actually break the lightbulb proved to be rather difficult, but after about a dozen failed attempts, Izuku finally succeeded. Broken glass rained down to the floor, and Izuku jumped out of the way to avoid getting injured. Once the glass had settled, he picked through the pieces to find a suitable candidate. Luckily, he was able to find a rather large shard that had a sharp tip, sharp enough to do some actual damage. Sweeping the rest of the broken glass under the bed with one of the blankets so he didn't accidentally pierce his foot, he enacted the next step of his plan.

Grasping the shard tightly in his left hand, he approached the metal door of his cell. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to do next.

Pulling back his right fist, he began vigorously banging his hand against the metal door, a resounding 'THUD' ringing out with every hit. On top of the pounding, he started screaming. To say it was loud was an understatement. The banging on the door alone would have been enough to draw attention, but Izuku had some serious pipes. He wailed like a banshee, waiting for someone to come down to find the cause of the commotion.

Within minutes, he could hear the rattling of the lock from the door in front of him. He quickly retreated to the far side of the room, still screaming, waiting for the door to swing open. It was Guard #3 who had opened the door, the same one who had dragged Izuku up to Aizawa's first examination.

And he was pissed.

"What the hell is going on in here?" the man practically growled, a bulging vein pulsing on his forehead.

When Izuku responded, he struggled to keep his voice from shaking.

"Bring the Doctor down right now, or else." His wide green eyes met the dark brown of the guard, who proceeded to snort loudly across the room, crossing his muscular arms across his chest.

"Or what, pipsqueak? You gonna cry?"

Izuku didn't speak. Instead, he raised the glass shard up to his throat, pointy end resting against his Adam's apple. Deja vu struck him, and he fought the urge to laugh.

The guard lost the look of amusement on his face, and began to move toward Izuku when the boy spoke, gesturing with his free hand in a warning.

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you. Unless you want to explain to your boss why his test subject bled out under your watch." Izuku's voice was full of a confidence he didn't possess, sweat trickling down the back of his neck. Mentally thanking Aizawa for the acting lessons, he awaited the guard's response with bated breath.

The guard's face darkened significantly, his teeth clenching in annoyance. He stopped his approach, instead choosing to glare at Izuku harshly. They stood like that for several moments as the man assessed Izuku's threat. He wasn't bluffing.

Finally breaking, the guard reached carefully to the walkie-talkie strapped to his belt, telegraphing his movements so Izuku didn't do anything stupid. Reaching for the device's largest button, he spoke in a low, gruff voice.

"Doc, I need you down in the cell ASAP. Subject #1 is threatening to kill himself. He managed to break the lightbulb; he's armed with a glass shard."

All while sending the message, the guard was glaring daggers at Izuku. Izuku only glared back, trying to keep his hand from trembling and the glass shard steady so as to not cut himself. His heart was pounding, and he was terrified. He only hoped that this would be enough.

The Doctor didn't respond through the walkie-talkie. Instead, barely two minutes after the guard had sent his message, pounding footsteps could be heard racing to the cell's entrance. The Doctor, disheveled and breathing hard, peaked around the door, stopping when he saw the position Izuku was in. Anger and annoyance could be seen on his face, as well as a fleeting look of… fear? Desperation? Izuku wasn't sure. Although he would be lying if he said that seeing the Doctor so frazzled wasn't exhilarating.

The man took a step forward, but stopped quickly when Izuku raised his hand further, still positioned against his throat, in a threatening manner. The Doctor raised his hands to face Izuku, palm up in a placating gesture. Really, Izuku had to stop ending up in these situations.

The Doctor spoke, his sly voice hiding barely concealed panic, eyes flitting between Izuku's face and the weapon at his throat. "Now, my boy, we don't want to do anything rash. Why don't you put that down, hm?" The man gave a tense smile, but Izuku could see him swallow nervously, could see his hands trembling slightly. Inwardly, Izuku felt a swell of confidence.

"I'm not your boy. And I'll stop when Eraserhead is brought back." Izuku growled, his voice filled with malice and anger, hopefully imitating the tone Katsuki always used that inspired fear into anyone on its receiving end.

At this, the Doctor paled. He lowered his hands slightly, taking a small step forward before Izuku stopped him.

"Now, Doctor, I don't think you understand the situation you're in." The familiar words made the Doctor's eyes widen in indignation. "I said," Izuku's gaze met the Doctor's once more, eyes dark and threatening, "Bring. Eraserhead. Back."

The Doctor grit his teeth. His gaze fell once again to the glass shard resting against the boy's neck. If he tried to rip it from his grasp, he wouldn't be quick enough, and the boy would pierce his throat. Now, the Doctor's quirk worked on most injuries, but he couldn't revive the dead. Hell, he didn't even know if Overhaul could bring someone back from the dead if he hadn't been the one to kill them (something about maintaining their lifeforce through his quirk- the Doctor wasn't entirely sure). After a moment's pause, the man turned to Guard #3. His voice was clipped, and full of dread.

"Notify Overhaul. Bring Eraserhead down here."

The guard nodded, making his way quickly out of the cell to complete his orders.

At that, Izuku could feel the panic in his chest relax. 'Zawa was going to be okay. He had to be okay.

Then he thought about the implications of what he had just done. Overhaul was probably on his way down here. And he was not going to be happy, that much was sure. Izuku shuddered just thinking about the man. The last thing he wanted was to see him again. There was something about the way he had looked at Izuku; it was... unnerving. He looked at him like he was a piece of treasure, something to be cherished- similar to the way a child looks at a Christmas present, except far, far more disturbing.

Caught in his musings, Izuku almost didn't notice the Doctor creeping slowly towards him. His head shot up, eyes blazing, as he pressed the shard of glass into his throat slightly, hard enough to draw blood. The Doctor stopped immediately, panic clear on his face.

"I don't think Overhaul would like it if I died. Wouldn't you agree, Doctor?" Izuku's voice was cold and calculating. He honestly wasn't sure how he was staying so calm; it seemed like his lessons with Aizawa were paying off.

And so, the two stood silently, poised in a dangerous showdown, until Overhaul arrived. It was the longest 15 minutes of Izuku's life. He could feel his arm shake with the strain of being held up for so long, and was focusing on not actually slitting his throat. The Doctor never took his eyes off of him, obviously worried that he would slip up. Izuku almost wondered why the Doctor was so panicked, but after his interaction with Overhaul, it made sense. If Izuku died on his watch, the Doctor would be ripped to shreds by Overhaul. It would not be pleasant, that much was certain.

After waiting for what felt like hours (it was around 20 minutes), a set of footsteps could be heard approaching the cell, the slow and meticulous gait accentuated by metallic shoes clicking on the stone floor. Izuku tightened his grip on the shard of glass, his heart rate spiking.

The footsteps drew closer and closer, until finally, Overhaul's tall figure entered the cell. His dark eyes were full of unreadable emotions, but Izuku was sure he saw something akin to amusement swirling in his pupils. The man approached the pair, stopping next to the Doctor. His gaze swept Izuku up and down, and Izuku fought the urge to squirm under the intense focus.

"Well, you've certainly landed yourself in quite the predicament, huh, Iz-u-ku." Overhaul drew out the syllables of Izuku's name almost playfully, and it made Izuku shiver. It was the first time the man had actually said his name, and Izuku hated how it sounded coming from his mouth. He grit his teeth, glaring at Overhaul, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response just yet.

Overhaul's gaze stuck on Izuku for another moment before turning to the Doctor. Now, his eyes were easy to read. They were full of anger.

"And you."

At this, the Doctor stiffened.

"I'm still not pleased about your previous misstep. Go fetch Eraserhead with the others and bring him down here. Do it quickly and I'll consider lessening your punishment." Overhaul's voice was disinterested, detached, and cold, but his eyes were dangerous. The Doctor nodded, swallowing thickly.

"Yes, sir." The man almost scampered out of the cell, rushing to distance himself from the terrifying figure that was Overhaul. It was almost funny. Almost.

Now, it was just Overhaul and Izuku in the cell. The panic and fear Izuku had been ignoring previously reared its ugly head, and was burning a hole in Izuku's chest.

Overhaul took a step forward. It took every ounce of restraint Izuku possessed to not take a step back. Instead, he tightened his grip on the shard of glass at his throat, eyes widening in warning.

"I w-wouldn't do that." Izuku inwardly cringed at the break in his voice. He couldn't help his trembling now. Overhaul only tilted his head slightly, almost curiously, at the gesture.

He took another step forward.

This time, Izuku stepped back. His shoulder blades hit the stone wall behind him. His chest heaved with panic as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

He steeled himself, pressing the shard harder against his throat, blood beginning to drip down his neck. At that, Overhaul seemed to pause, thinking. After a moment of silence, he spoke. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. It wasn't warm, but it was quiet, considering.

"You really would, wouldn't you?" The man's dark eyes were calculating, and Izuku's breath faltered slightly at the question. He fought the tears that were threatening to form, gritting his teeth.

"You… were hurting him," Izuku's voice broke again, tears finally gathering in the corners of his eyes. He despised showing such weakness, but he couldn't help it. "You were hurting 'Zawa." His voice cracked again, emotion obvious in his tone. The confidence that Izuku had previously possessed was gone now. He was scared. Terrified. He had never looked more like a child than he did now.

Overhaul hadn't expected this. It was… odd. He hadn't had much of a chance to interact with the boy previously, and didn't have a good read on his character. His chest filled with a strange emotion. He was so… pure. Yes, Overhaul had seen it in his eyes, but seeing it in action was an entirely different matter. The boy, a mere child, was willing to kill himself if it meant saving a practical stranger from being tortured. The notion confused Overhaul. It didn't make sense to him. Such empathy, such kindness was hard to understand. It only fascinated him more.

He knelt down this time, so he was eye to eye with Izuku. The child scrunched his face in confusion, hand tightening on the weapon he was holding. Overhaul stared into the boy's eyes. Fear, confusion, traces of anger, and underneath all of that, the purity and innocence that Overhaul was sure he would never get enough of.

They remained like that for a moment, the air thick with an uncomfortable silence as Izuku waited for Overhaul to do something, to hurt him, to get mad. Instead, he spoke.

"I wonder if you know of the power you hold."

Izuku paused. He wasn't expecting that. His grip on the shard of glass loosened slightly as he turned the words over in his head. Overhaul was still looking at him with those unreadable eyes, regarding him as if he was seeing something Izuku couldn't. What did that even mean?

"But... I'm q-quirkless?" The words slipped out before Izuku could stop himself. His curiosity and childlike naivety got the best of him; Overhaul wasn't moving to hurt him just yet, and his statement had caught him off guard.

Overhaul just smiled. It made his face weird and twisted, almost sinister, and it made Izuku's skin crawl, which was impressive seeing as how Overhaul's mouth was still covered by his mask. The man's eyes were alight with excitement.

"Exactly."

Izuku's breath hitched in confusion, his chest feeling uncomfortably tight. He didn't like whatever this interaction was, didn't like how Overhaul was looking at him. Luckily, he was saved by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Overhaul returned to a standing position, his face shifting back to the cold, emotionless mask he wore most often. Guard #3, accompanied by the Doctor, entered the cell. In the guard's arms was an unconscious Eraserhead, covered in white bandages that were spotted with red. The man looked so small and defenseless, it made Izuku's heart drop. His eyes widened in fear and worry, mouth dropping open in a silent cry. The guard made his way over to the bed carefully, paying close attention to Izuku as he dropped Aizawa unceremoniously onto the bottom bunk.

Izuku fought the urge to rush to the hero's side, but he relaxed slightly knowing that at least Aizawa wasn't being hurt right now. His heart clenched at the thought of what had happened before, though. The feeling of overwhelming guilt and helplessness threatened to overwhelm him.

"I'll have to continue my research at another time. Consider yourself lucky, child." At that, Overhaul returned his gaze to Izuku. Any curiosity or strange fondness was gone, replaced with cold fury that made Izuku's heart stop and his blood run cold. Without another glance, Overhaul began walking out of the room.

"Get this mess cleaned up", Overhaul called out, not even turning around before disappearing around the corner. Only when he couldn't hear his receding footsteps did Izuku relax slightly, heartbeat slowing down considerably.

The Doctor fixed his gaze on Izuku, the previous panic that had occupied his features now gone, a tired and angry look in its place. Noting the shard of glass still at the boy's throat, the Doctor sighed deeply, reaching into a pocket of his lab coat and retrieving a small cylindrical object that Izuku didn't recognize. Looking now at the guard, the Doctor nodded. Both figures turned around and walked right out of the cell, the metal door clanging shut behind them.

Izuku just stood there in shock. Looking around, bewildered, it took a few moments for Izuku to finally drop the shard of glass at his throat and rush to Aizawa's side. He sighed in relief as he felt a strong and steady pulse from the man's wrist. Kneeling on the ground next to the bed, ignoring the shards of glass embedding themselves in his skin, Izuku moved Aizawa into a more comfortable position, sliding the flimsy pillow underneath his head and covering the man with the other ratty blanket. The adrenaline was slowly leaving Izuku's system, and he was left shaking like a leaf, tears now streaming steadily down his face.

He let his head fall against the mattress, shoulders trembling as he sobbed quietly. He was so exhausted, so absorbed in his relief that Aizawa was alive and breathing and safe, that he failed to notice the small object the Doctor had been holding being slid into the room through the small slit in the bottom of the door, emitting an odorless and colorless gas.

Izuku could feel his eyelids grow heavier, and it became harder and harder to stay awake and vigilant. He was just glad that Aizawa was with him. His breathing began to even out, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

After around half an hour, the sleeping gas dissipated, and two familiar figures stepped into the cell.

The Doctor's associates, the two women that had bathed and cleaned Izuku, regarded the room with silent consideration. Eraserhead was unconscious on the bottom bunk's mattress, and Izuku was slumped against him, still kneeling on the ground, also unconscious. The floor was covered with shattered glass, haphazardly swept to the side by a discarded blanket. The two women worked in silence, sweeping up the glass, removing anything not bolted to the floor (leaving the mattresses and the blanket that wasn't covered in glass), and eventually lugging in a fresh mattress to position next to the bottom bunk. The previous mattress had shards of broken glass in its seams and needed to be removed. Carefully, the women maneuvered Izuku into a sitting position, cleaning the wound on his neck and removing the tiny pieces of glass that had embedded themselves in the boy's knees.

After bandaging his injuries, they placed him on the new mattress. Ensuring the room was clean and that there were no more glass shards anywhere, the women left, neither Izuku nor Aizawa any the wiser of their quiet visitors.