OKAY THE CHAPTER NAME MAKES IT SOUND LIKE THEY FUCK OR SOMETHING but no it's alright they just talk ok their relationship is and will always remain platonic, just want to clarify that right off the bat [also there isn't any underage drinking].

It didn't take too long for the kid to finish loading up his stuff (which was for the better, because Dabi had been skittish with worry all morning). He knew that they had four days, a week tops, before the authorities got impatient enough to come knocking at their door.

Dabi didn't plan on being there to answer it.

After that would come the missing posters, and the rave about the abducted child who was taken advantage of after his mother was killed. That would last for a bit, before it died down and the media would move on to it's next target. They would have to be careful though, while people were still scanning the streets for the boy with the bushy dark hair, freckles, and red sneakers that they saw in the paper.

He wanted to be a move ahead of everyone else. Hence leaving on the first morning after.

And sure , maybe it was just paranoia getting the best of him wanting to get out so soon, but better safe than sorry, right? Besides, the weight of illegally adopting a child still hadn't taken full effect yet, and Dabi was riding that wave of ignorance for as long as he could. Being able to adjust to a new environment before the shitstorm rather than after was the closet Dabi would ever get to being productive, after all.

It was all he could do to get a few bites of apple in between packing and the kids' (Izuku was his name, right?) freak-outs. So he was still really, really hungry. And pissy as well, probably. The kid Izuku would've been all set and good to go food-wise if it hadn't been for the unfortunate upchuck of everything in his stomach.

Although Dabi had originally tried to convince himself otherwise, it would be stupid leaving the mess for the first-responders, and later the press, to find. Any sort of 'evidence' could prolong the searches and make the ordeal bigger, and by extension, longer. No thank you.

Dabi had to walk slowly so that Midoriya could keep up.

It wasn't that he was slow or anything, but he was basically dragging his feet behind him. Purposeful or not, Dabi elected to say nothing. The kid's entire posture read deflated, and his red-rimmed eyes stared vacantly ahead, unseeing.

He noticed how Izuku's apathy progressively got replaced by nervousness the further they went away from the house. He absent-mindedly scratched at his pants, his eyes scanned restively in front of him, and his pace quickened. It reminded him of Shoto, once upon a time.

Dabi cleared his throat and offered his hand as an open comfort, which Izuku took (small victories) only to see his eyes widen upon apparently realizing how warm it was. Noticing this, the older chuckled and explained it was his Quirk, saying nothing more to elaborate. It was difficult keeping his body temperature down when he was this on edge, and he was relieved that he hadn't accidentally burnt the kid. That would definitely be a step in the wrong direction.

He was pleasantly surprised that Izuku hadn't asked where they were going or the infamous 'are we there yet?' question, and felt an odd swell of pride that the kid put so much trust in him so soon (he chose to believe it was trust and not fear or shock, because Dabi needed a win right about now). However, he still had an anxious look on his face, and it only got worse when they traversed into the 'bad' part of town, the grip on his hand tightening all the while. Dabi squeezed back in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

After that, it didn't take too long for them to reach their destination, and Dabi tried to ignore the kids' confusion and then disappointment when they stopped in front of a half-haphazardly boarded up subway entrance.

Dabi easily tore the boards off of the entrance-way and set them on the ground. The task was borderline effortless due to the fact that he had earlier positioned them to look secure so that people stayed away (he doesn't mention how difficult and labor-intensive it was when originally removing them nail by nail only a week ago).

Stepping into the threshold, Dabi pulls out a flashlight he nabbed from the Midoriya house and flicks it on, illuminating the path down the stairs. The kid hugged his side, and Dabi honestly couldn't blame him. It looked like a scene out of a goddamn horror movie, after all.

They trekked down the steps and further into the station, their footsteps echoing curiously in all directions. Otherwise, not a sound was made.

Continuing downward for a couple more minutes, Dabi finally veered off to the side to face an almost hidden doorway that appeared out of nowhere. Naturally Izuku, startled and unsuspecting of such a casual stop, stumbled. He steadied the kid before mentally reprimanding himself for not giving a warning.

Dabi honestly couldn't fathom what the fuck kind of architect would put a door smack dab in the middle of a stairwell, but he wasn't exactly complaining. Hell, even finding the door had been a stroke of luck. The reflection of his Quirk against the knob had caught his eye, and a quick investigation told Dabi that he had struck gold (metaphorically speaking, of course. The place was an actual dump.)

The opening lead into a low-ceilinged hallway that forked into two more doorless rooms. They stopped so that Dabi could speak,

"The one on the left is a bathroom, water actually still works down here," how, you ask? Dabi didn't have a clue. He'd been just as surprised when he turned on a faucet, expecting nothing, only to see brownish water come flowing out. Gross, and certainly undrinkable, but surprising nonetheless. It would work for the toilet, at least.

"No luck on the power though. But no worries, I have like, tons of emergency lamps and a pretty big battery supply. The whole place is pretty nasty right now since I don't spend much time down here other than to sleep on..." opening the second door, Dabi gestured to his lovely 'room' and his high quality king-sized bed. "My lovely."

Dabi put a sarcastically smug look on his face, his gesture oozing with fake pride as he presented the ratty thing fondly. Izuku actually, genuinely snorted, staring at the pullout couch that had definitely seen better days.

"That thing looks like it belongs on Dagobah beach." Dabi mocked a shocked gasp at that, as though thoroughly offended.

"Hey, you have it too good. Where I come from, this is top luxury, I swear," the kids' next noise was a held-back chuckle, as if he wasn't sure if Dabi was kidding or not.

"That was a joke, by the way," he added, trying to keep the kid from feeling bad, and instantly regretted it when the mood was extinguished. Great, now he'd made it awkward.

Another one of those cursed pauses was casted, in which Dabi noticed the way that the kid rocked on the back of his heels and wrung his fingers together awkwardly. Back at home it was never his job to start the conversation back up, as talkative as his immediately younger brother and sister often were, so he guessed he would have to work on that if he wanted a chance at putting an end to the dreaded breaks.

So, you can imagine how surprising it was when the kid was the first to end the silence.

"Can we start setting up the lamps? I-it's really dark, and cold in here…"

The question was so reluctantly said that Dabi wouldn't have been surprised if he was prepared to be shot down.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure,"'

Shit.

The kid had also mentioned that he was cold, right? It was easy to forget how quickly others could get cold when Dabi was capable of basically managing his own body heat. Izuku must be freezing. It was almost winter, and Dabi could only imagine how frigid it was in such a dark and damp place.

And on top of all that, he was still wearing the same fucking T-shirt he had on yesterday, and could see his breath in front of him for christs sake. First day on the job and he'd probably already given this poor kid frostbite.

He set the luggage he'd been carrying on the floor and ignited a small flame in the palm of his hand. Concentrating his Quirk into one specific area was difficult, and the lick quivered and danced a bit, but otherwise worked fine as a makeshift torch.

Dabi was just about to start rummaging through his stuff when he caught a glimpse of the kid.

He stared in awe, the loss in his eyes replaced by the serendipitous glow that reflected it's blue light against Izuku's face. It left a warm feeling in Dabi's chest, seeing so much sheer wonder and amazement in his gaze. He seemed utterly hypnotized.

For a second, while the blue of the light peppered the kid's hair, dying it blue, everything felt like it would be okay. Dabi liked the feeling a lot.

The moment passed slowly; carefully. Like water seeping out of the gaps of one's hand. It left, as moments do, and there they were: In an abandoned subway station in the dark, staring at a light.

"I'm going to start setting up the lamps. We can unpack everything tomorrow." Dabi huffs in a last-ditch attempt to avoid yet another oncoming dreaded silence. He handed Izuku the flashlight so that he wasn't left in the darkness while Dabi was setting up, and sat down to search through the bag for batteries and a blanket.

Using his small fire as a light-source, Dabi sorted through the assortment of crap and eventually found the six Double A Battery packs he'd snagged from a nearby drug store and the screwdriver he took with him from home. The blanket was near the top of the pile so he simply flung it at the kid, who gratefully wrapped it around his shivering body. He tore the batteries out of their cardboard packing, tossing the trash on the floor to be dealt with in the morning, before making his way to the closest lamp.

One by one, Dabi started up the lamps (he had twelve total) and soon found out that not every single lamp needed Double A batteries. So he had nine lamps now. Which was just fine with him anyways.

He had just finished screwing on the battery cartridge lid onto the last light when he walked back over to where the kid was still sitting, pressing the flashlight directly into the palm of his hand, creating a weird red fleshy look on the other side; he seemed to be in a daze. He glanced up, however, when Dabi approached him, and Izuku looked tired. Like, tired and cold and hungry because jesus he hadn't fed him, like, at all the entire day. And what was it, like, nine? He went a whole day without any food? And wasn't complaining? Did he even notice, through his little fog? And he was still wearing the same clothes he had on almost two days ago when his mom died? Dabi was fucking nailing this.

"You're hungry, right? And cold? I can get you something with long sleeves and something to eat, you know. You just have to ask—"

"Mmmno," the kid slurred. His weight was being supported by the arm of the couch, and his eyes closed every few seconds before he had to force them open again.

"Are you sure? You haven't really eaten anything in a full 24-hours, and you're shaking, soo…..?" Dabi never got an answer. The kid must've drifted off midway through his sentence, because his eyes weren't opening up again. Part of him feared that he'd just. Died. Right there. But he pushed the ridiculous thought away. He could see his stomach rise and fall with every breath even through the dark lighting, confirming that he hadn't in fact killed this kid. Well, it wasn't too great, but it was a start. Not killing him.

God.

Dabi grabbed the bundled up part of the sheet that wasn't being wrapped around Izuku's body (it was a big blanket) and spread it out, laying down with Izuku, who was already curled underneath with droopy eyelids. Just the little bit of skin that met Dabi's own was ice-cold, so he raised his body's heat a little to act as a sort of living heater. Izuku seemed to notice, and practically melted into him, absorbing the new warmth. As soon as he got comfortable, (which didn't take long because he was very worn out) Dabi began drifting off to sleep.

Before he could though, a small and frail voice slid through the quiet.

"I'm scared."

Oh jeez.

How was Dabi supposed to respond to that ? It was a breakable thing, the kid's' words; perfectly fragile. Dabi hesitated with his own, fearing he'd fracture something important.

"It's alright to be scared, I think. But I'm here," He pulled Izuku closer against his body, for once not worrying about his presence being unwanted, and nuzzled his chin into the kid's hair.

"And I'm not going anywhere."

Izuku didn't feel rested when he woke up.

His eyes closed and he felt tired and sleepy, but he never dreamed. It was strange for him, too; good sleep always came easy for him.

There wasn't a clock he could stare at to see how much time had passed since he'd first laid his head down, so he instead chose to focus his attention on one of the lamps in his peripheral. It was one of those camping lamps, and the light flickered very slightly. It wasn't even really a flicker, but a change in how strong the light was every minute or so.

On nights like these, as rare as they were before , Izuku quickly became restless. He had a desire to sit by one of the lights and sketch a bit, but it was too cold outside of their couch-shelter. And—

Crap.

And Izuku had forgotten his sketchbook at the house.

He couldn't help the frustrated groan that escaped him. How had he forgotten pretty much the only object that mattered to him? He didn't honestly remember much from yesterday (earlier that day? It was impossible to tell without a window or clock). It was all a fog. He'd forced himself to grab something , because be very faintly remembered thinking that he'd regret it if he didn't, but apparently his sketchbook hadn't peaked his interest at the time.

Could he ask Dabi to go back and get it? He wanted to, really, really badly. But that would be selfish, wouldn't it? Or would it not be? Did he not deserve to have this one thing to hold on to? Would he have to let go of everything he had left —?

His Mom would have gone back.

It wasn't a comparable circumstance, he knew it, but there the thought was, nonetheless.

His Mom would have dropped everything to get back that sketchbook.

Izuku missed her. He missed her more than anything ever.

He couldn't stop the wetness that trailed down his face any more than he could stop the pit that never went away in his chest. Why did everything hurt to think about? Why did everything come back to her?

He was crying about a stupid sketchbook now, but the realization of that didn't make him feel any better.

Izuku felt incredibly, undeniably lost.

It felt like one of those weirdly detailed nightmares that people had every now and then, where you wake up in the morning and forget that your dream isn't actually real, and you get all sad. But. But then you realize that it was just a dream. Just a silly little nightmare.

Despite himself, Izuku pinched him arm.

Nothing.

This wasn't a nightmare he could wake up from, huh?

His mom.

She was really dead.

"Kid? You awake?" Izuku was so startled by the noise that he couldn't help but recoil,

"You woke me up, I was sleeping." he croaked, trying, and failing, to keep the tremor and cracks out of his voice. His throat was awfully dry.

"Really now? You cry in your sleep often then?"

Ah. He'd heard that. But how? He'd been sure he hadn't made a sound, he could—

"You were quiet. It's just hard to ignore how, uh, wet , my arm was getting…" he trailed off,

Izuku's first instinct, which was to hide his face in his pillow, was now decidedly not an option as the 'pillow' he'd been laying on had apparently Dabi's arm the entire time.

At least it was dark, so he couldn't see how red Izuku's face probably was.

"Sorry." he faltered.

"God, kid, no. You're the absolute last person who needs to be sorry." he offered.

Izuku didn't have a response to this, so he didn't say anything.

"Look, clearly neither of us are feeling very sleepy right now,"

He was feeling very sleepy, actually. He just wasn't...sleeping. And Dabi sounded tired, too.

"So how about we just, talk, for a bit. About stuff that isn't heavy or anything. Just normal conversation stuff. Only if you're feeling up to it, of course?" the question was very much up in the air, and Dabi held his breath for an answer. Izuku knew that if he didn't want to talk, he wouldn't have to; or, at least, Dabi wouldn't make him. But maybe it would be good to have a normal exchange for once.

"Okay." he settled. Some of the tension that had been weighing him down seemed to evaporate at the agreement, and the tightness in his throat relaxed.

"To make it easier, let's make it a game. You know 20 questions, right?" he nodded into Dabi's arm. It was a first-day-of-school type of game.

"M'kay, so what's your favorite color?"

Izuku snorted.

"What? Do big kid's not have favorite colors or something, or..?" he teased lightly,

"N-no, just...wasn't what I was expecting, is all," he'd capped his hand over his mouth to stifle the noise, so his sentence sounded muffled and weird.

"Mine's light blue,"

Wow. He wasn't expecting that.

"Why?" Izuku wasn't entirely sure why he'd felt compelled to ask, but he'd blurted it out despite himself,

"You expect something different? Black? Think I'm emo, or something?" he said it jokingly, but there was a faint underlying defensive hue. Because of this, Izuku hesitated on his reply. Before he could come up with one though, Dabi added, "I just think it's pretty, I guess. I dunno. Never thought about it too much," he shrugged casually.

Izuku responded with a soft hum of acknowledgement.

"What about you?" he inquired.

"Blue, white, and red probably. Or yellow," Izuku didn't think his words through carefully before he said them, and the reply with instant,

"Oh, so you're an All Might fan. Either that or you have a weird fascination with America, but…" he grinned,

"Yea. He's really cool!" Izuku supplied easily. He couldn't stop the admiration that seeped into his answer.

"I asked the first one, so now it's your turn. Shoot," he shifted into a comfier position,

"Okay. What's your least favorite color," he couldn't help chuckling half-way through the sentence.

"Wow. You are so original. Uh, I guess red. Never liked red much," he shared simply. Izuku eyed his hair, which was in fact red, but looked away just as quickly. It was probably just a coincidence.

"I don't like red either." he remarked. It wasn't the answer he had planned, but it was true. He really didn't like red.

A moment after saying it he realized that he'd listed it as both a color he liked and disliked, but if Dabi noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Uh, favorite subject at school? I never actually went to a public school, but I've always liked history. It's interesting, I guess, seeing how far humanity's come,"

Izuku's attentiveness and general liking of school had worn down after a while, but there were still aspects of it that he enjoyed more than others,

"I don't really have a certain subject that I like, but it's fun taking notes and analyzing things. Like, you know, picking apart the details of something, thinking about what could make it better, weaknesses. I used to like doing that with heroes and their Quirks. I had a whole bunch of notebooks and everything too." unbeknownst to even his Mom, Izuku still had a few of his notebooks from years ago stashed away somewhere. He had fully intended to throw them away, but had fished them out of the garbage at the last second. The thought of them simply not existing anymore, out of reach forever, didn't sit well in his stomach.

Sometimes, though, you can't always decide last minute to save something.

Izuku learned that the hard way.

Before he could dwell, Dabi plowed on.

"You're telling me that you just kept notebooks analyzing heroes for fun ? You're something special, Izuku," the weirdest thing about it was that it didn't sound sarcastic or mean. He genuinely seemed interested in the notebooks. Nobody but his Mom ever had anything nice to say about them.

"Do you have any other hobbies, or does your day consist purely of writing in journals?" he probed.

"I think you might be bending the rules. Aren't we supposed to take turns?" Izuku chided. He didn't mind the double question, but the casual airiness in their conversation was so refreshing that he wanted to keep it going.

"It's 20 questions , kid. I don't think the rules are exactly set in stone. Just humor me, please"

"Nope. You have to wait till the next round, like everyone else."

"Are you kidding me—"

"Favorite dessert? Mine's Taiyaki" he continued snidely, interrupting Dabi's complaints.

"Fine. Icecream, probably?"

"What flavor?"

"I'm sorry, but I thought we were taking turns. What was it, 'you have to wait till the next round like everyone else'?"

"That's not fair, you can't use my words against me!"

"I can and I will."

"But I'm just a wittle kid!"

"Not falling for that, sorry. So back to my previous question, any hobbies? You know, besides the hero-stalking type," again, there wasn't a drop of malice in anything he was saying, so Izuku answered as truthfully as he felt comfortable.

"I actually don't watch hero fights that much anymore. I guess I grew out of it," he wasn't technically lying, at least, "I like drawing a lot, though. Oh! Who's your favorite hero? Mine's definitely All Might, he's really cool! But Present Mic is pretty awesome too. And Hawks, Midnight, Crimson Riot, Fat Gum, Best Jeanist, Ingenium— Endeavor has a powerful Quirk but he's not camera friendly. All of those mainstream heroes are really great, but the underground heroes are so underrated, like Eraserhead," Izuku stopped himself before he could go any farther. He was probably boring—or even annoying—Dabi at this point, and he was waiting for him to say as much, but he didn't. He didn't say anything. He was quiet.

"Dabi? I'm sorry if that annoyed you, I don't, I shouldn't have—"

"Naw, kid, you're good." another brief pause. The mood was ruined, now. All thanks to Deku, screwing it up and bothering Dabi when they were just starting to get along.

A beat.

"Listen, Izuku, can we talk about something? It's a little more serious than 20 questions." he asked. Izuku nodded.

"I want you to understand, that sometimes, heroes aren't always as good as they seem. Don't get me wrong though, there are some pretty good ones out there. But. But there are also some that aren't so good, you know? Not to burst your bubble or anything," Izuku was caught off guard by the randomness of the topic, but listened in anyways,

"Like, for example, you know Endeavor?" he swallowed quietly.

"Well I know someone, a few people, actually, that he's mean to. That he doesn't help, like heroes are supposed to."

Endeavor wasn't exactly the picture of friendliness, that was sure, but being purposefully mean didn't fit the hero description Izuku had in his head.

"What do you mean, 'mean'?" he asked.

"Well, uh. He's kinda like a bully, right? The people, they didn't do anything wrong, but he hurt them. He still hurts them. Also, I don't think he cares much about saving people as a whole. He's selfish, and mean, and bad. I don't think people like him are very heroic."

If Dabi was right, then Izuku definitely agreed. Heroes are supposed to save people, not hurt them.

"How do you know the people? The ones that he hurt?" that was something he needed to know. Because if everyone knew that Endeavor was a bully, then there's no way he could be the number two hero.

"They're really close friends of mine. They trusted me with this because I know them. I care about my friends a lot, and I don't like it when they're hurt. I'm the only one who knows, besides them,"

"Then why don't you help them? If you're the only one who knows, then you're the only one who can help, right?"

That question seemed to stump Dabi, because it took a moment for him to answer.

"It's not that easy, kid. I really, really wish it was, but it's not."

"Why? I'm sure if people knew they would—"

"People can't know. It's hard to explain, but this has to stay a secret. And trust me, I don't like it either. Promise you'll keep the secret? For my friend's sake's?"

Izuku mulled it over. He didn't understand what harm it could do to tell the public. People were getting hurt by a well known pro hero, and Dabi was the only one who knew. Didn't that mean that the only way the people could be saved is if higher authorities knew? But, on the other hand, telling someone would be a slap in the face to Dabi who had trusted Izuku and nobody else. Plus, he didn't know enough about Dabi to be sure that he was even asking and not telling. Better safe than sorry.

"Mkay. Promise." he mumbled unsurely.

"Good. Glad you agreed, cuz' if you didn't I would have to resort to...other methods,"

"What do you—" his sentence was cut short when Dabi's hands dug into Izuku's sides and he actually started tickling him —

"S-stop! Please-AHA—" he couldn't get a word out, his laughs were breaking up every attempted sentence as he struggled fruitlessly to escape.

"Beg for your life, you heathen," he said, continuing with the torture mercilessly.

"—stop, bahahaHA! St—" he was yet again interrupted by another fit of giggles, squiggling and squirming helplessly.

Finally, he stopped, but before Izuku could even take a break or get away Dabi already threw the sheets over him, successfully capturing him.

"Let me ouuttttt Dabi, I can't breathe, there's no air, I'm dying under here!" he wined.

"It's a sheet, kid. You're fine. Now, what's your favorite animal? I'll release you when you tell me."

"But it's my turn to ask a question!"

"Too bad kid. We're gonna be here for awhile, then."

"You're a cheater!" Izuku squealed as he kicked and pulled at the blankets.

"I'd like to think of myself as a persuader, actually," Dabi remarked.

"I'm not saying anything until you let me out,"

"You're not in much of a position to be bargaining, you know,"

"If I die of suffocation in here, then it would be your fault!"

"I'll take my chances, smart-ass,"

As if realizing his mistake, Dabi's grip holding the covers down loosened. It gave Izuku just enough space to wiggle out, causing Dabi to promptly try and stuff Izuku back under the covers.

"I didn't say anything, go back to being smothered."

Izuku huffed in protest and was able to pop his head and his now tangled mop of hair out from the blanket. He looked at Dabi with a smug look on his face.

"If I'm a smart-ass, can I call you lame-ass?"

Dabi threw a glare at him with no real heat in it, "Absolutely not."

See you next week again!