Consciousness returned in fuzzy starts and stops. Izuku felt like he was laying on a cloud and, for once, nothing hurt. His muscles felt like putty. When he cracked his eyes open he found himself lying on the floor in the middle of his room. How'd that happen?

Wracking his memory, he recalled eating a sliver of the cookie before realizing he needed to find somewhere to put it. Then he remembered he needed to put it in something to keep it safe. Then… nothing. Feeling around blindly, he couldn't find it. At least he succeeded? Maybe? He should double check in case Kurogiri came in.

Sitting up with a stretch, he glanced around near him on the floor. Nothing. He could vaguely remember thinking the bookshelf would be a good spot. Not wanting to ruin the pleasant muzziness, he crawled on all fours to paw through the books. No cookie. Next he shuffled over to the dresser. Alarm took hold when he couldn't find it.

Giving up, he hauled himself to his feet using the furniture for support. He could still dimly feel the pain but it was muted. Limping to the door, he opened it and made his way to the living room. Tomura was lounging on the couch playing a game.

Dithering for a moment, he hesitantly posed his concern as a question, recalling Dabi's warning to keep it a secret. "U-um… has Kurogiri been in my room?"

Tomura looked up and squinted at his mildly panicked expression, no sympathy in sight. "Next time put it away before eating it, dumbass. It's in your drawer."

Izuku squeaked and retreated back into his room in mortified shame. When he opened the desk to check, he found only half of the baked good. It looked like it had been ripped in half. Did… Tomura steal his edible? He was disappointed but chose to see it as a bribe. Dabi did say he could get Izuku more.

Checking the time, he realized he'd only been asleep for a couple hours. He felt like he'd slept for a full night. Fussing around for something to do, he settled for light exercises since the pain was manageable. Nothing strenuous, but he didn't want to fall behind.

As he stretched and went through a light routine his thoughts kept straying to Stain and what Dabi had said. He should talk to Tomura about letting the scarred man help them. And about the hero commission. If they wanted to change hero society that really would be the best target. He knew Tomura's views were mainly 'salt the earth' after listening to him rant a few times. That was dangerously nihilistic and self destructive. He needed to convince the man of something more goal-oriented.

The problem was that Tomura didn't do anything without Sensei's approval and Izuku doubted Sensei's goals were as simple as just killing heroes and watching the world burn. The man was too cunning and ruthless for that. Izuku just knew too little about him to predict his real intentions. With the nomu, he could safely guess hostile takeover. But that was just as short-sighted and simplistic as Tomura's ideals, which made it unlikely.

Feeling frustrated with his circling thoughts, he wandered back into the living room and plopped down next to Tomura. It was chilly enough in the open space that he sat directly near him rather than the other end of the couch. The man had in some type of fantasy RPG. For hating heroes so much, he liked playing them a lot.

"Hey Tomura?" He bit his lip, picking at a loose thread on his boxers.

The pale man side-eyed him before reluctantly pausing the game. "What, shrimp?" He adjusted to give Izuku his full attention.

The fact he and Kurogiri listened so attentively still gave him warm fuzzy feelings, even after months of experiencing it. "Dabi seems like he'd be a good recruit. And he pointed out a vigilante who's edging towards villainy."

A thoughtful frown crossed Tomura's lips. After a moment he nodded. "I was thinking similar. But what makes you think so?"

Izuku briefly summarized their discussion earlier. He also went into more detail about Dabi murdering the guy to rescue Izuku. (The lingering screams and scents bothered the greenette's nightmares, but he was happy the scarred man interfered so decisively.) And Dabi didn't seem bothered by the act, even joking about it later and taking advantage.

As he spoke, Tomura nodded at his points. When he was finished the man smiled at him approvingly. "Those are a lot of what I noticed too. Plus what you picked up alone with him. I was going to feel him out already but that cements it. Good job, shrimp."

That expression did strange, fluttery, things to Izuku's stomach. He returned a shy smile of his own. "Should I talk to him, or do you want to?" He bit his lip as he pondered. "He's worried about making a bad impression because of the apartment."

An eyebrow inched up at him. "And giving a 12 year old booze and pot normally makes a good impression?"

The greenette scowled at him. "I'm 15! I don't look that young… do I?" He was short but having two different people call him a kid was insulting.

He realized he'd fallen into a trap when Tomura reached up to lightly pinch one of his cheeks. "You've filled out a bit from training but you still got a baby face going on." Izuku flailed and pushed his hand away with an outraged squeak, face flushing. The man grinned at his reaction and ruffled his hair.

"And I'll talk to him. You focus on tracking down the vigilante. I'll trust your judgement." The man stood, stretching his arms over his head with a groan. Izuku tried not to stare at a sliver of skin the action briefly exposed.

"Get some food and then go to bed. Sensei called a meeting for all of us tomorrow morning." He patted the teen on the head before wandering into his room and closing the door.

That news killed any good mood Izuku had. It had been months since he'd seen the man and he liked it that way. Why now, just after yet another traumatic event? … Did Sensei have something to do with that man? The thought was undeniably paranoid, but there nevertheless. He tried to soothe himself by telling himself it was a coincidence.

Unhappiness dulled his appetite but he padded into the kitchen to have a small snack anyway. Once he was done, he prolonged the inevitable by taking a long shower. His hair, when wet, touched his shoulders now. Should he cut it or let it grow out?

The mental debate briefly distracted him, staring into the mirror and fiddling with the thick curls. The strands had been tamer since they grew out, it was harder to comb though. Shrugging, he decided to leave it for now. It was harder to grow out hair than cut it, he'd give long a try.

Finally there was nothing else keeping him from returning to his room. He dreaded what nightmares he'd have, but opted to not have a bite of the cookie. He needed to have a clear head dealing with Sensei in the morning.

Curling up under the blankets, he drifted off fairly quick despite the worries bouncing around in his head. But as predicted, a couple hours later he jolted awake with a whimper. The scent of burning hair and blood lingered in his nose, making his insides twist. Anxiety heightened the reaction and he scrambled out of bed to limp for the bathroom.

After heaving up the meager contents of his stomach he sat on the tiles shivering. It had been months since he had a dream that vivid. He should have expected it. He was glad the man was dead but his brain decided to act otherwise. Stupid brain.

A door opened in the hallway and light from Tomura's room made him squint. The man peered in with a frown. "Nightmares again?" At Izuku's miserable nod, he let out an annoyed huff. "Come on. Up."

Firm hands gripped under his armpits and hauled him to his feet. Tomura led him to the sink to rinse his mouth before tugging him into the man's room. Izuku shuffled over to the bed and collapsed face down into a pillow.

"M'sorry." The words were muffled but audible.

After a moment a finger roughly poked him in the side until he scooted over to make room. The man grunted as he settled next to him. "Shut up and go to sleep." Despite the rough words, arms soon wrapped around him, tugging him against Tomura's chest.

This time when he slept it was dreamless.