Notes:

Trigger Warnings:

-graphic depictions of violence

-mention of torture/actual torture

When Overhaul saw the billowing smoke of a car going up in flames, he knew he had to make his move- and fast. He had been scouring the area in his helicopter for the past hour or so with no luck; the kid had gotten a big head start, and Overhaul was forced to work twice as hard because of it. No matter. When he had heard a faint explosion in the distance, Overhaul inwardly rejoiced.

For a brief second, he had been scared. Fear was not an emotion that Overhaul was familiar with, so to feel the cold, sharp presence rising in his chest was… odd. He wasn't scared about being found by the heroes. No, that wasn't the issue. He was scared that his perfect test subject was going to be taken away. And he couldn't let that happen, now could he? No, he had worked far too hard and for far too long just to have all of that work slip through his fingertips. Midoriya Izuku was his. No one, absolutely no one, was going to take him away. Of that, Overhaul was sure.

When Izuku identified the approaching figure as Overhaul, it was like the world had stopped. For a second, Izuku had thought that he was dreaming. Like he was stuck in a godforsaken nightmare that just kept on going.

That was when the pair made eye contact. Izuku remembered that he didn't need to be asleep to be trapped in a nightmare.

A few months ago, if Izuku were in the same situation, he would have panicked. He probably would have tried to keep Overhaul talking as a distraction until the heroes came. He would have trembled in fear in the mere presence of Overhaul.

Now, however, was different. Izuku was tired. He was in pain. Over this past day, he had fought and cried and screamed and rejoiced. He couldn't walk in a straight line and his entire body burned.

When Izuku met Overhaul's eyes, he didn't feel scared. Looking into the face of the man who had tortured and killed him, he only felt pure rage.

And so, as Overhaul made his slow approach to Izuku's location, Izuku made an executive decision.

Cocking the pistol in hand, he shot Overhaul right in the foot. And boy, did that feel good.

Overhaul was only a few yards away from Izuku and Aizawa when the child had shot him. Now, Overhaul had seen the gun. He knew that Izuku was armed. He wasn't too worried, however. The boy that Overhaul knew would never shoot someone else; he was too kind, too pure. Too innocent. That was why, when Overhaul felt a bullet shatter the bones in his right foot, he was surprised to say the least.

What Overhaul failed to take into account was that Izuku was not the boy he had been when Overhaul first met him. No, Overhaul had broken that boy when he took him apart and shoved him back together again. The new Izuku held no reserves over shooting a mass murderer, none whatsoever.

Overhaul screamed, his voice growling in a mixture of pain and rage. He had dropped to his knees; Izuku was still several yards away, still pointing the gun at the man.

In a flurry of motion, Overhaul launched himself forwards. Izuku wasn't expecting it; the man had been on the ground, Izuku had just shot him for Christ's sake!

Izuku frantically cocked the gun and pulled the trigger, aiming this time for Overhaul's chest.

The click of the weapon rang empty. No bullet left the chamber.

Izuku's eyes widened in horror as he realized that the gun only had one bullet. It was too late to grab the other weapons because all too soon Overhaul had closed the distance between them and had tackled Izuku to the ground. The wind was knocked out of Izuku's chest as the man slammed him into the unforgiving earth, his wounds screaming at the harsh contact.

The gun had since fallen from Izuku's hands, and Izuku was left with only his body to defend himself with. It would have to make do.

Overhaul grappled with Izuku in the dirt, positioning himself on top of the boy and grabbing his forearms in an iron grip. All the while, Izuku lashed out: he scratched and bit and screamed and punched. But he could only do so much damage; Overhaul was much bigger than him, and in a head-on fight, he far overpowered Izuku in terms of strength.

After a vicious struggle, Overhaul had managed to pin Izuku down underneath him. Currently, the man was on top of Izuku, his hands digging into Izuku's wrists, holding them tightly against the ground above Izuku's head. They were so horribly close that Izuku could feel the warmth of Overhaul's body pressed tightly against his, could feel the man's body on his with every little movement.

It made Izuku absolutely hysterical. He thrashed in his hold, kicking out his legs desperately. Overhaul was too close, too close. It was then that Overhaul switched his grip, restraining Izuku with only one hand as his other slammed into the earth beside them. The ground shook and groaned. Izuku didn't understand what was happening; he was too panicked and dizzy, still trying to regain his breath and stifle the fear exploding in his chest. He could feel the ground shift underneath him and he barely had time to cry out before the ground began to shape into cuffs around his wrists, still pinned above his head. The same was happening to his feet when he regained the ability to think properly. Immediately, he activated Erasure, and the moving of the earth ground to a halt.

Izuku hadn't even considered Overhaul's quirk working on non-living things. In all of the adrenaline and chaos of their escape, it had never come up before. The thought of such a quirk, one so powerful that it could reshape not only man but the earth too, was terrifying.

Overhaul had moved off of him now, and stood by his side, admiring his handiwork. The ground underneath Izuku was sunken slightly, having been moved and reformed to bind his wrists. The sharp gravel dug tightly into Izuku's skin; he couldn't move his hands an inch. He could kick his legs, however.

Breathing heavily, he shifted his body at the waist and swept his legs out with as much force as was possible. He managed to hit one of Overhaul's legs. Sadly, it wasn't the foot that he had shot, but it still made him lose his balance slightly. Gritting his teeth with exertion, Izuku was about to sweep his legs out again when Overhaul's boot slammed into his leg, pinning it down.

Without giving Izuku the time to recover, Overhaul stomped mercilessly on Izuku's ankle once. Then twice. Again and again and again until Izuku was screaming, a loud 'crack' resonating through the air.

Izuku's legs fell limp against the ground, his left leg pulsing with a red-hot pain that could only mean a broken ankle. Izuku tried to stop the tears from falling down his face, but it was no use.

The pressure building behind his eyes was growing and he was in pain and he didn't know what to do and Overhaul was glaring at him with a fury that Izuku had never seen before and he was reaching down to touch Izuku again, to hurt him-

"Wait," Izuku almost cried out, voice breaking pitifully. Overhaul stopped reaching forward, now looking at the boy on the ground. It was certainly a sight to see. Izuku, pinned to the ground by his wrists with the twisted earth, his eyes wide and scarlet and leaking tears furiously, skin covered in burns and bruises and dirt and blood. His left ankle was pointing the wrong direction and his chest was heaving. In all honesty, it disgusted Overhaul. His skin was still crawling from touching another human being, let alone one so dirty. It made his blood boil, the fact that a boy once so clean had been ruined by the world's impurity. He was going to make sure to have Izuku scrubbed and cleaned fervently when he took him to the new facility.

"Now, child," Overhaul spat out the word like a curse, "You aren't in any position to be making demands. You seem to have forgotten who you belong to."

Overhaul was leaning down now, close enough that Izuku could see himself in the man's pupils. Izuku's eyes burned with the urge to blink, but he stared at the man right back, his fear paralyzing him in place.

"I… I'll go with you. Please, just don't… just leave 'Zawa. I'll come with you. Please."

Izuku was sobbing now, and he finally succumbed to the urge to blink. His eyes returned to their normal state and his hair fell limp around his face once more. His entire body was shaking, and he could feel snot and tears running down his cheeks.

For a moment, Izuku was sure that Overhaul would refuse. Was sure that he would kill him right then and there to save some effort.

That was before the man reached down to Izuku's right foot and touched exposed skin.

Izuku let out a blood-curdling scream, thrashing in his bounds because it hurt it hurt it hurt IT HURT IT HURT--

The pain stopped abruptly. Izuku had, unknowingly, activated Erasure for a second time. His eyes strained and burned with the effort, but it was nothing compared to the blinding agony of his foot which was currently a mess of muscle and flesh and God, there was so much blood -

The earth around his hands shifted once more, eventually dissolving back into the earth from where they came. Izuku's wrists were bloody and bruised, but he could move them now. It didn't make much of a difference, though. His left ankle was broken, and his right foot was disassembled. He wouldn't be able to get away now.

The thought had Izuku crying even harder.

Overhaul, satisfied that Izuku wouldn't be able to run, slid his hands under Izuku's arms and heaved him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, inwardly cringing at the physical contact. He took a deep breath. It would all be over soon; he just needed to get the child back to the base, and then he could be clean.

Izuku hung limply on Overhaul's shoulders. The man was surprisingly strong, and seemed to lift Izuku with little to no struggle, even with a bullet through his foot. Izuku got a little satisfaction seeing the man limp slightly because of it.

As Overhaul made his way back to the helicopter, Izuku's arms swung uselessly in the air. Izuku was done struggling. He had ensured that Aizawa would be safe.

That was enough, right?

A tiny voice in his head screamed that it wasn't enough, he didn't want to go back, he wanted to stay with 'Zawa, he wanted to go home.

It was that tiny voice that prompted Izuku's next actions.

Because on the ground lay the discarded baton, forgotten by Overhaul. It was now or never; Izuku felt the life returning to his body and he writhed in Overhaul's grip, just enough to dislodge himself. He fell to the ground in a heap, gasping in pain, but was already reaching out to grab the baton.

Overhaul whirled around in indignation, ready to use his quirk on the boy once more, but was instead met with a blinding pain exploding from his knee. He crumpled to the ground, biting back a scream.

There, lying on the dirt, was Izuku. He had propped himself up so he was in a sitting position and, having grabbed the baton in a two-handed grip, swung as hard as he could at Overhaul's knee. Overhaul fell to the ground but Izuku didn't stop his assault; this time, he swung at the man's head. The metal baton collided with Overhaul's temple with a sickening thud. Izuku swears he heard a cracking sound, but he wasn't sure.

The blow had thrown Overhaul to the ground face-first. The man looked absolutely horrible. His plague mask had been ripped off when he hit the ground, revealing bloody teeth clenched tightly together. He was covered in dirt and grime and blood. His foot still had a gaping hole through it, and his knee looked crumpled, positioned at an unnatural angle. Izuku could see veins bulging in the man's neck and forehead, and nothing but rage in the man's eyes. Somehow, he was still conscious, even after the hit to the head.

Izuku pulled back his arms to strike again when the ground exploded into a barrage of spikes, surging towards Izuku, who was quick to activate Erasure. The spikes stopped suddenly, crumbling to the ground now that Overhaul's quirk had been erased, but the damage had been done.

One of the spikes had pierced Izuku's body, leaving a gaping hole in which blood was rapidly leaving.

Izuku could barely feel the pain at this point. He could feel something enter his abdomen, but he was just focused on moving forward, on erasing Overhaul's quirk, on striking. And strike he did.

He lunged forward, kicking off with his broken ankle and biting back a pained scream before slamming the baton into Overhaul's temple again, and again, and again, and again, until finally the man was limp on the ground, unmoving.

Izuku's breathing was ragged as he let the baton fall from his tight grip to the ground. He could hear a wheezing, wet noise coming from somewhere. As he stumbled and fell to the earth, he realized that it must be coming from himself. Huh. He glanced down at his abdomen, and the gaping hole in his flesh glared back, a mass of torn skin and muscle, pouring out blood. His vision was darkening at the edges. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe at this point. He glanced up weakly at where Aizawa was lying, several yards away, safe from Overhaul. Izuku could see his chest rising and falling. Relief surged through his body.

At least Aizawa got to go home.

Izuku could feel the tears still streaming down his face, could feel the warm sun and the cool earth on his body. He was lying on his back now, staring up at the sky. It was a beautiful blue, full of fluffy clouds and flying birds. It was so pretty. He was getting colder now, shivers wracking his body.

Izuku realized slowly that he was dying. He wasn't surprised. He had known from the start that the chances of making it out alive were slim. Oddly enough, he was calm. Knowing that Aizawa would be okay helped a lot.

A part of him ached for his mom. To be held in her arms one last time, rocked gently to sleep to the tune of her humming. His heart clenched at that thought. He really didn't know why he even wanted that. His mom hadn't hugged him for years, and she wasn't that woman anymore.

But he couldn't stop himself from wishing. It was a deep burning that burrowed itself in his chest. He realized that he was sad.

Not because he was dying, necessarily. But because he was dying alone.

He wondered if anyone would miss him. If he would even get a funeral. He doubted it.

Izuku thought about Aizawa. His husband, and his cats. His heart clenched at the thought of never being able to meet them.

He thought about his dreams of being a hero. Lying on the ground, staring up at the sky as black spots dotted his vision, he mourned the loss of the person he could have been. The hero he could have been if people had believed in him. If he continued his training with Aizawa. If All Might hadn't told him to 'be more realistic'.

Tears continued to stream down his face. He could hear something in the distance. It might have been yelling, but he wasn't sure. Everything was getting fuzzy. Izuku felt cold. He hated feeling cold. He really wanted to go to sleep. Izuku was just so tired. He tried to fight it, he really did. But soon enough black consumed his vision entirely, and the world went dark.

When Shouta Aizawa awoke, he was… confused, to say the least. His entire body was stiff and aching slightly, and he was in a bed of sorts. He could feel a light blanket draped over his body, could hear the beeping of a heart monitor to his left somewhere. The smell of antiseptic was heavy in the air.

His eye whipped open, and he launched upwards into a sitting position, ignoring how his body protested the action. He scanned the room he was in with growing panic. He was in some sort of experimentation room, or something. It wasn't a huge room; there was the bed that Shouta was currently in, and a chair to the side. There were no windows; the only light came from the stark white fluorescent strip in the ceiling. Aizawa realized that he wasn't bound to the bed. He also realized that they hadn't put a quirk suppressor cuff on him. Big mistake.

Pushing himself out of the bed, he reached first to turn off the heart monitor. Once that was off, he removed the IV from his arm. All of this was strange. He didn't know where he was; the Doctor had never put him in this room before. Hell, he was even wearing a hospital gown.

Aizawa strained his brain to remember. He remembered escaping with Izuku. They fought the guards and he got stabbed. They found a car. He couldn't remember anything more.

With a horrible sinking feeling, he came to the conclusion that they must have been recaptured. The fear in his chest returned, anxiety squirming its way into his lungs because God, where was the kid?

Pushing down any and all intrusive thoughts regarding Izuku, Aizawa took another look around the room he was in. Walking over to a nearby cabinet with a little difficulty due to his stiff and aching limbs, he began rooting through the drawers. He was able to find several disposable scalpel blades, which he promptly unwrapped and held tightly, one in both of his hands.

A quick glance over the room revealed nothing more that Aizawa could use; he didn't have the time to search very thoroughly, though. He needed to find Izuku. They could be doing anything to him right now. He needed to get his kid and get out.

Aizawa slowly and carefully approached the door to the room he was being held in. As quietly as possible, he tried the handle. To his immense surprise, it was unlocked. He didn't know whether to be uneasy or happy; really, did they think he was in a coma or something? It was almost too easy.

He opened the door slowly, peeking his head outside to observe a hallway. Bright, clean tile floors shone in the white lights from the ceiling, and the creme colored walls were a stark contrast from the usual concrete that Shouta was used to seeing in the facilities. With a grimace, he realized that he and Izuku had probably been transferred to a different location.

Upon seeing no unwanted visitors and hearing no approaching footsteps, Shouta began his journey. He went to the left, inching his way swiftly against the wall while mentally noting the route he was taking. He didn't make it far before he heard the clicking of shoes against tile, quickly approaching the location Aizawa was currently in. He decided to steal the element of surprise, and jumped on the figure before they could fully round the corner. Holding one of the disposable scalpels to the figure's throat, he pinned them to the nearest wall, a feral snarl gracing his features.

The figure turned out to be a woman, dressed in light blue scrubs and holding a clipboard. Her eyes widened in shock, and she opened her mouth to speak but was cut off.

"Scream and I'll slit your throat."

Now, Aizawa wouldn't actually slit her throat, even if she did scream, but she didn't need to know that. The woman nodded slightly, as much as she could with a scalpel pressed against her neck.

"Good. Now, where is Izuku."

Aizawa's voice was a low growl at this point, his words not a question, but a demand. The woman swallowed thickly.

"I-I don't know who you're talking about, but I'm sure I can help you-"

Her voice was shaking and she was obviously terrified, but Aizawa sensed she was telling the truth. But how could she not know who Izuku was?

Aizawa was pulled from his musings by the sound of more footsteps. It was a group this time. Not good.

Aizawa stepped back from the woman, quickly turning to the opposite direction of the hall and sprinting. He ignored the surprised yells that echoed behind him, and focused on his path ahead. He could faintly hear the crackling of a walkie-talkie, probably signaling for backup. Shit.

He made it a few meters before the pounding of footsteps could be heard racing after him. Gritting his teeth in annoyance (and pain), Aizawa rounded another corner only to slam into someone, knocking both of them to the ground.

He could hear the figure make a noise of surprise, but Aizawa was already scrambling to his feet and running away before the figure he had just knocked into pounced on him, knocking them both to the ground again.

Aizawa grunted in pain, struggling to free himself of the stranger's grip. The stranger was surprisingly strong, but they weren't super big like the guards were. Aizawa eventually managed to end up on top of the figure, scalpel digging threateningly into the person's throat. That was, until he actually looked at who he was holding at knife(scalpel)-point.

Light greenish-yellow eyes met his, wide in surprise and full of emotion. Familiar glasses had been knocked off the figure's face and were now lying a few feet away from them on the ground.

Shouta had to be dreaming. This was a dream, right?

He sat there, still on top of the figure, too shocked to move. The man he was sitting on seemed to be in a similar state of disbelief.

The silence was broken when the man spoke, his voice heavy with emotion. It was shaky and hopeful and loving and everything that Aizawa had been missing for the past almost year of his life.

"Sho?"

It was the voice of his husband.

Aizawa blinked. Then blinked again. He looked more closely at his surroundings. Posted on the walls were informational signs about lung cancer and physical therapy, surrounded by pictures of smiling children and doctors. He hadn't noticed the signs hanging on the ceiling, pointing in different directions and labeled with things like "Hero Ward", and "Cafe". In his frantic attempt to escape and find Izuku, he hadn't noticed the plastic wristband hanging on his wrist, with the words "Musutafu General Hospital" printed neatly on the side.

He looked down at his hand, the one currently holding a scalpel to his husband's throat.

And the reality of the situation dawned on him.

"...'Zashi?"