Disclaimer: I don't own F.E.A.R or My Hero Academia.

A/N: Uh, this is obviously my first attempt at a story on here. I've read through quite a few, some involving the chosen fandoms but have yet to actually find a crossover of this variety and so uh, I thought why not try and make one then?

Obviously certain things will need to be re-worked to flow better.

So yep, enjoy!


Interval 00: Prelude


"I want them back."

"Nice of you to join us, sunshine."

"ColdSo cold."

"Don't be afraid…"

"You can't hide from me."

"Whatever happens, I just want you to know-Nobody else could've done what you did today, Becket. If we get out of this, it's because of you."

"Don't leave me!"

"I'm sorry it came to this. I am. I'm not a bad person, I just don't have a choice."

"I feel you."

"You have a date with destiny, Sergeant Becket. Let's not keep her waiting."

The unbuckling of his belt rang like the tolling of bells in his ears, his breath hitching in fright just as cold lips pressed on his in a hungry display of want. His whine of protest muffled by her kiss, trembling and unwilling to look thisthis thing in the eye!

He was going to die. Possibly in the same way as Fox or even Cedric, no worse. He couldn't even move, the last thing he saw was Stokes crawling on the floor, bleeding and in pain and he couldn't even move to try and help her!

Lucky or not, the owner of those haunting, fiery-golden red orbs had other ideas it seemed. Waiting until he re-opened his closed eyelids to look at her. A cold, fresh wave of fear consumed him. He saw her lips move, and a swell of bitterness overtook him.

Ignoring her whispered words, claiming how much she loved him and urging him not to fight it. As if she would ever understand something like love in the first place. At that moment he hated her.

"I remember everything."

"MommyDaddy…"

Metallic gray eyes snapped open before the person they were attached to launched himself out of bed. He scanned the room from one corner to the last as they searched for something that wasn't seen.

But that didn't mean nothing was there. Not to him. Not anymore.

When he was satisfied that nothing was within his line of sight, he lowered the sidearm and flicked the safety on before getting out of the bed. Making his way over to the connected bathroom of the small bedroom and flicking the light on.

Blinking away the brightness for a moment, he stood at the sink of the closet-sized room and splashed cold water on his face before looking at his reflection in the mirror.

His pale, angular face looked back at him. Short blackish-brown bits of hair stuck to his forehead, slick with sweat and water as he stood in just a pair of old, faded jeans and white t-shirt. His shirt covered half a dozen scars on his torso and arms in several places, some made by bullets given their size and shape.

The memories hadn't stopped. After all this time they plagued him every night when he slept and even at times during the day. The dark-purple lines under his eyes were proof of this as he tried to get his head back in order again.

He had always wondered about his past before the mission, a history that had been wiped clean without any sort of reason. Now he just wanted to forget, re-directing his focus to the present.

A creak from the bedroom door drew his attention back up and away from the bathroom mirror.

"Daddy?"

Immediately he walked back over to where his gun sat, opening the drawer of the nightstand and placing the pistol inside, out of sight and reach. Just then the door creaked again, a smaller figure crawling inside, wrapped in a familiar All Might blanket.

"Hey pumpkin, what are you doing awake?" He injects just the right amount of cheer into his voice while picking her up off the floor, his metallic gray meeting the large, watery eyes of his child.

"I had a bad dream…" The girl whispers glumly, bearing her face down into her father's shirt. Her smaller fingers curled against the fabric as though he would disappear. He brushes the ebony curls from her face-

-glowing molten golden-red eyes peered out from the flowing ebony-black hair, head tilting to the side.

"C-can I sleep with you tonight? P-please?"

He blinked, the smoldering eyes replaced by his daughter's innocent green ones instead. He smiles. "Sure sweetie, why don't we get you some juice then it's back to bed." She smiled, tucking herself more into her father's embrace as he carried her towards the kitchen.


"I've told you everything. Just leave me be…"

The response came in the form of a fist slamming into the glass walls of his prison, hitting so hard it cracked. Jolting something inside him, eliciting a familiar feeling of dread. Why couldn't these people leave him alone already?

He looked up, his eyes locking with another's. Eyes a shade or two duller than his own, darker somehow. Surrounded by pale, sharp features..

"You're not ArmachamWho are you? Who are you?"

Flashes of memory not his own. A tree. A swing. Soft, pale features framed by cascading ebony-black hair.

"It's you! What do you want?"

"Allow me."

He couldn't quite see where the voice came from, hearing the words like a thinly-veiled threat against his ear. A sliver of memory came back to him from his time at Wade Elementary, an unfamiliar drawing. Someone was getting shot in it, he recalled.

"Stop-"

"This WILL kill him."

"-Daddy, no!"

"-something pushed me out. It was a force similar to Mother's but different somehow." His head was throbbing. Failing to stifle a sudden groan, the pain and exhaustion catching up with him finally. The image of a pale-faced woman haunted him.

"Yes, that must be it. It was the child that did it."

He flinched, struggling to make sense of which way was which. The muscles in his arms and legs twitching, burning-

"You're a lucky man, Sgt. Becket."

Metallic gray eyes snapped up, meeting duller gray ones and icy blue.

"Lucky?" He spat, voice laced with venom. "What do you want from me!?"

Blue eyes regarded him intensely. A stark contrast to the one standing beside him, his grin almost maniac.

The one with eyes a shade duller than his own seemed stoic in comparison. He looked on, trying to find an answer to this unforeseen complication.

There was something almost human though, at least compared to his brother's eyes, that had Becket focusing more on the older of the two. Something like desperation clawing at him. The older male looked sadder somehow, lonely, it reminded Becket of

It reminded Becket of her.

"We wish to be reunited with our mother. And of course to usher in the arrival of a new family member."

Becket stared at the younger brother when he spoke, the slight curling of his lips set Becket on edge. Had the sergeant glimpsing back towards his brother for confirmation.

"And it would seem, Sgt. Becket, both the child and our mother wish for you to be there as well."

A cold fist closed around his heart, choking the air from his lungs. He was sure the dawning look of horror was showing clear on his face, but he didn't care. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to be in her presence ever again if he could help it.

"W-what?"

"The heroes will be here soon. With more guards, we must move quickly."

"Hello Alma, I'm Dr. Green."

The rays of the morning sun poured in through the windows. Michael busied himself with searching the cupboards instead of watching the news, turning it on for the morning forecast. His movements paused momentarily when he heard the name.

He swallows with some minor difficulty before resuming his usual routine.

"I'm here to check up on you."

Michael could easily pick up on the small, almost dismissable unease that trickled into the doctor's next words. His hands moved without thought, pouring cereal into a bowl.

"I have a little girl like you."

Michael's eyes dulled a little more, turning and setting the bowl in front of Izuka's usual seat. His eyes momentarily lifted onto the TV screen, staring blankly.

The little girl seated across from the doctor on screen had yet to give a verbal response. She hadn't even twitched. The doctor becomes visibly unsettled by the lack of acknowledgment. She looked just as Michael remembered, same red dress-

He stares, bewildered, as the small girl reaches up to the music box before turning. Those burning red and gold eyes staring directly at him as she smiles, head tilted curiously as though inviting him closer.

-only the room she sat in looked colder somehow. More like a prison.

"I'm sure you have a very pretty face. A-Alma, could youpull your hair back so I can see you better?"

It takes a second, only a second. Then Alma has moved from the chair to directly in front of the visibly shaken doctor.

Michael exhales a sharp, shuddering breath he didn't realize he was holding while looking away. He blinks, gaze dropping down to his hands, moving them as one hand settles over the wrist of the other.

The videos get progressively more disturbing as they are shown. The videos of the girl named Alma Wade.

The toaster dinged. He let out a curse before turning the TV off.

"Dammit…" He muttered, tossing the now burned pieces of toast into the garbage.

He goes back to the cupboard, then the cabinets above the kitchen stove and sink. "Where did I put it?" He mumbles, pausing in his search, thinking. "Strawberry jam…Strawberry jam…Strawberry jam…Aha!" He says, glimpsing a sliver of familiar red that had been unknowingly shoved farther towards the back.

He popped open the fridge, grabbed the milk and poured a fresh glass. No sooner had he finished preparing breakfast did he hear the telltale sound of small feet pounding on the hardwood floors, racing towards the kitchen.

"Good morning!" Izuka yelled cheerfully, almost tripping before Michael caught her.

"Whoa, easy there kiddo." Michael chides lightly, a soft peal of laughter leaving his lips when he notices his daughter's mismatched socks and how one of the straps of her dress was done a little higher than the other. "Couldn't decide which socks again?" he asks, fixing the strap of her dress.

Izuka blushes but nods, still smiling. "One's got All Might, but look! The other's Stars and Stripes!"

Michael makes a small noise of acknowledgment before lifting his daughter and setting her in her seat at the counter.

"Is it okay if I color?" Izuka asks, already digging around in her backpack for crayons and such.

"Mm-Hm," Michael hums, fetching the coffee beans. Sparing a small glance over his shoulder to make sure Izuka was still doing okay, lips quirking in amusement when he saw she decided to use the calendar nearby as her construction paper.

"Izuka, sweetie, I need to at least be able to see the numbers on the calendar." Michael says leaning in from the other side of the kitchen counter after starting a fresh pot of coffee. "Here," he says, eyes roaming through the assortment of crayons, markers, highlighters and other art supplies, pulling out a single light yellow sharpie. "Use this one instead? Look, it's the same color as All minion or whatever's hair-"

"All Might!" His daughter cheered happily, snatched the marker and resumed her aimless scribbles. "He's the bestest of the best!"

Michael makes a noncommittal hum, sipping on his coffee.

He had met All Might once before the mission that changed his life. It was a brief encounter in which Michael himself didn't say anything, allowing All Might to fill the dead air between them with endless chatter and a beaming grin. After that, he'd heard they deployed him to help with the team that was sent into Armacham HQ.

He also remembered hearing on the news that it didn't seem to make a lick of difference. The recon squad was all but slaughtered in the end, and then the explosion hit. Michael tries not to think of what followed after that.

He suppressed the sudden shiver that ran up his spine, burying the memories of burning red-gold eyes, pale skin and what he assumed at the time was meant as loving touches.

The ding of the toaster stopped him from spiraling down the dark train of thought, feeling further relieved by his daughter's laughter. "So, are you ready for your first day of school?" Michael asks while spreading jam onto the toast for her.

"Yeah!"

"Got your pencils? Crayons? Lunchbox?" Michael asks, walking to the other side of the counter where his daughter sat. He helped fix the messy hair clippings that were supposed to keep the ebony curls from falling in her eyes. Smoothing the unruly dark strands before carefully putting them back in the right way.

"Yeah, and look!" Izuka smiled, thrusting out her small feet. "I got my new shoes on, AND I managed to tie 'em all by myself."

"Wow, look at you!" Michael says, matching her smile with another of his own. "Did you brush your teeth though?"

"Uh, yes!"

"Izuka?"

"I did, honest!"

"Izuka."

"Fiiiine…"

He helped her off the seat, letting her dart into the bathroom and listening for the telltale sound of running water before starting to clean up. He paused when his eyes skimmed over the drawing Izuka had been working on.

On it were three figures; There was a yellow-colored one he could vaguely tell was meant to be him, next to him was a much smaller one, most likely Izuka herself, scribbled in green and on her other side was-

"You can't hide from me."

-red. It was red, but it wasn't a female. The color itself causes the slightest twitch of Michael's jaw, pointedly looking away while drawing in a shaky breath.

The doorbell rings and Michael places the scribbled picture back down onto the countertop.

He needed to clear his head.


Hope you review.

Yep, that's it for now. Obviously FEAR 1 & 2 happened, It's kind of AU after that. Also yeah, Becket lives cuz I wasn't a fan of the third game really for 'reasons':p