Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by one of my favorite shows, Burn Notice. If you haven't watched it, I highly suggest checking it out. It's action-packed, funny, intense, and incredibly clever. I may have watched it twice. It's also the only show that I own every season on DVD. One of the episodes inspired one of my favorite fanfics that I've written, a Rogue One fic called "a place for getting lost (and for getting found)", along a few others. Um, this chapter got much longer than I anticipated and it didn't even hit two scenes that I'd planned. Deku thinks so much. His brain needs to chill. I originally planned on this being from Bakugou's POV, but I decided that there were certain thoughts and emotions that I wanted to keep hidden. And the idea of seeing Bakugou and this weird situation from someone else's POV was too hard to resist.

Midoriya had done guard duty for a lot of shady people thanks to his job. It was unfortunate, but came with being in law enforcement. Sometimes they needed information from bad people in order to put away even worse people. He didn't like it, but that was how it worked around here. The lesser of two evils had to be chosen. He would've liked to put all the bad guys away, but if there was one thing that he had learned in his time in the FBI, it was that justice was not always served. Almost anyone could be bought, even the government, if a person knew how to work the system.

Katsuki Bakugou didn't just know how to work the system; he made it his.

Watching over Bakugou was not the most fun job he'd had. Luckily, he was able to split his time with Agents Uraraka and Iida. It was a good thing too seeing as how Bakugou seemed to take particular offense to Midoriya. He didn't take it personally himself. A lot of criminals hadn't liked him. Again, it came with being in law enforcement. As well-liked as he was in most of his life, he was okay with criminals hating him.

Seriously though, Bakugou hated him. Midoriya wasn't exactly sure what he did to earn the hitman's wrath, besides being a fed. It wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have to spend hours on end with him. Most of the time, they kept their distance from each other. Bakugou would lock himself in the sparse bedroom while Midoriya stayed in the even sparser living room. He'd pass by to make sure that he was still in here, but usually left him to his own devices. As long as he wasn't doing anything illegal, he didn't care what Bakugou did in there.

Sometimes though they couldn't avoid each other and that put them in some awkward and tense positions. Like when both of them wanted something to eat or drink at the same time or when they'd argue over what to watch on the television. It was their only form of entertainment besides the books that Iida had brought in. (It was surprising that Bakugou was such a bookworm, but the multiple bookcases at his house had been a dead giveaway even if he didn't want to admit it.) Midoriya didn't like remembering the time he was trying to use the restroom and Bakugou had banged on the door so hard that he'd knocked it off its hinges.

Honestly, Midoriya didn't know why he had to be so difficult with him when he knew that he wasn't anywhere near as aggressive with Uraraka. Then again, Bakugou didn't seem to like anyone but her. Maybe the simple fact that neither he nor Iida was her was enough to make him dislike them.

Luckily, his shift was almost over and Uraraka could replace him. That always put Bakugou in a better mood, making their last hour together mostly painless. He spent that time in the kitchen, cooking dinner, which was what he always did when Uraraka had the night shift. From the food he'd tasted, Bakugou was an incredible cook, but he'd be damned if he did it for anyone but her. Not that he said it was for her, but Midoriya knew better.

Who said a hitman couldn't be a romantic?

Midoriya also knew that food was easily one of Uraraka's favorite things, although he had held out on telling Bakugou what her favorite food was no matter how much he threatened and demanded. He might not have Agent Shindo's natural charm or Agent Shinsou's counterintelligence training, but there was something about Bakugou that brought out the seriously stubborn side of him. It was no wonder the two of them constantly butted heads.

From his spot on the couch where he was reading a book about a superhero (which Bakugou had said was "fucking nerdy as hell", but he'd caught him reading it too), Midoriya had a good vantage point of three of the rooms. He could see the living room, into the kitchen, and down the hallway in the bedroom. Delicious smells from the whatever Bakugou was cooking wafted over to him, almost making him salivate. No way Bakugou was going to let him have some before he left, which meant he'd either have to stop somewhere or cook something at home. A radio played loud, crashing music in the background.

Today hadn't been a bad day. Sure, the two of them had argued as usual, but Bakugou had only threatened to kill him twice compared to his usual four or five. It was a marked improvement. Maybe they were getting along better. Not that it mattered if a criminal liked him or not, but it would certainly make his job easier. Wrangling Bakugou into some manageable form was half the battle.

"You almost outta here?" Bakugou questioned as he swaggered out of kitchen, throwing a towel over his shoulder. It was so domestic that Midoriya barely refrained from snorting. "I'm tired of that stupid smile on your face."

Just to piss him off, Midoriya lifted his gaze from the book and – let it be known that he was capable of giving as good as he got – smiled at him. "Should be any minute now."

As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Setting the book aside, he fished it out of his pocket and flipped it over to look at the screen. Midoriya furrowed his brow. A text from Uraraka? Maybe she was letting him know that she was running late. She had mentioned staying up too late going through all the files on the people he would be testifying against. Still, it wasn't like her when they were on a case, especially one as important as this. Even if she was, she always called to explain herself.

However, when he unlocked his phone and opened the message, Midoriya almost dropped his phone. "Shit!"

It wasn't normal for him to catch Bakugou's interest, but him swearing when he never did around him was enough to make him look back at him. Midoriya must have been wearing the horror he felt on his face because Bakugou was on him in a flash and snatched the phone out of his hand. A dark expression fell over his face as he stared down at the picture on the screen. He'd worn furious and derisive expressions before, but now he looked ready to explode. It was a cold and calculated explosion that spoke volumes of danger.

That was the face of the killer that they'd been warned about.

Bakugou tossed the phone on the couch in disgust. Though he didn't want to look at it again, Midoriya knew that he had to analyze it as quickly as possible to determine the severity of the situation. He picked the phone up and held it in a surprisingly steady hand, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before turning his focus on the picture.

Uraraka was strapped in a chair, her wrists tied on the armrests and her ankles on the legs. It looked like it had been screwed into the ground. There were red burn marks around her wrists where she'd been pulling on her restraints. Her hair was hanging in her face, which was red and sweaty from the strain of fighting, and black duct tape over her mouth. Her eyes were glaring directly at the camera as if challenging whoever had taken the picture, but also served as a warning to whoever saw it.

She was furious, not afraid. At least she wasn't displaying any obvious signs of fear. She probably didn't want to give her captor the satisfaction. It would be impossible not to feel afraid at all. He had been in some seriously sticky situations before. Even he had tasted fear. Looking at this picture of her now brought up the feelings he'd had when he had been shot and came very close to dying.

He didn't want her to know the taste of death.

Bakugou ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. "Who in the hell would…?" He pulled his hand out of his hair and slammed it flat against the wall. "Fuck!"

A text popped up underneath the picture: You know the drill.

Midoriya's mouth went dry. Her captor didn't have to say anything outright for them to know what they wanted them to do – or rather what they didn't want them to do. Alert the authorities and she was dead. It didn't really matter if they were using her as leverage against the FBI. They could always get a hold of another agent. Midoriya itched to text Shinsou, who knew people better at tech than anyone on their team, but he stayed his fingers and waited for more information.

Another text: You know what I want.

He didn't look away, no matter how much he wanted to look up at Bakugou. Of course he knew what they wanted. The FBI didn't have the money for a ransom that would pay half much as Katsuki Bakugou's life would. Getting their hands on him would give them access to a fortune. There were potentially people willing to shell out enough money for a small island. He'd had his fingers in a lot of pies around the world.

The question is: what do you want? Agent Uraraka back whole or in pieces?

Midoriya grit his teeth and tried not to hiss through them. He'd been threatened more times than he could count, half of it now by Bakugou in a matter of a few weeks, and he had seen his colleague's lives threatened as well. While he wasn't tall by any means, Uraraka was the shortest one by far. He had seen plenty of men sneer and threaten her and he'd seen her take them all down as well. How had someone managed to get the drop on her like this? They must have come out of nowhere – attacked her from behind – somehow caught her off guard.

I know what you want, Agent Midoriya. No shit. It was pretty simple to guess. But what does Bakugou want?

Someone must have been following Bakugou and Uraraka the other day when they'd gone out of the safehouse, just as she had worried about in her report. That would account for why they had the idea that she meant something to him. She had been against it, but Midoriya had known that something was going to blow up if Bakugou didn't get some fresh air. You didn't keep a lion in a cage. It wasn't natural and it made them dangerous. Judging from the fire burning in his red eyes, he was approaching lethal levels of danger and ready to bite back.

Despite himself, Midoriya's eyes flickered to the other man pacing in front of him. What did Bakugou want? They all knew that he greatly preferred Uraraka's company to the point where he flirted obnoxiously and cooked for her. He was downright cooperative when she was around, like she had him subconsciously trained. They bickered just as much as he and Midoriya did, but it was more playful with her. He liked her smile.

That didn't mean he actually liked her though. He could just prefer a softer, more attractive view. Even if he did like her, there was liking someone and then there was sacrificing yourself for someone, which this most definitely would be if he gave into their demands. Midoriya wanted to do everything he could to save her – but that threatening look in her eyes warned that if he so much as considered giving up Bakugou, she would hunt him down and make him suffer the consequences.

Bakugou finally noticed Midoriya watching him and froze, turning his glare on him. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

"The ransom apparently," Midoriya answered honestly.

He had probably expected as much, but Bakugou still snarled and scowled viciously. No one liked it when the tables were turned on them, least of all him. He knew that people were willing to go to great lengths to get to him, but kidnapping a member of the federal law enforcement to get there was a big one.

"So what are we going to do?" Bakugou asked, his glare attempting to burn holes through him on the couch.

" You aren't going to do anything," Midoriya replied. "I need to…"

Decide if he was going to alert the team or not. How could they find out? Midoriya paused for a moment before ripping the back of his phone off and peeling out the battery. No bug in his phone. There was one relief. He put it back together and turned in on. Maybe if he just contacted Iida, who would find out anyways since he was supposed to replace Uraraka after her shift here was done. He could try to pass that off since that would tip off the authorities, but then again, Iida would immediately go to their boss. He trusted Aizawa, but one wrong move could be costly.

Maybe if he went back to the office and try to track Uraraka's phone… He couldn't leave Bakugou here alone. There was no doubt in Midoriya's mind that he would do something extraordinarily stupid. He wasn't sure what, seeing as how Bakugou didn't seem to be the rescuing type, but he could be wrong.

"Like fucking hell I'm not doing anything," Bakugou shot back. "I'm not just gonna sit on my ass while someone tries to threaten me."

"And you're not gonna go guns ablazing when we don't even know where she is!" Midoriya countered, jumping to his feet. He knew that Bakugou thought that he was weak, a pushover, a goodie-two-shoe – and maybe at one point he had been those things – but he wasn't about to let something happen to her without a fight. It was thanks to her quick thinking after he'd been shot that he was still alive. He owed her this. "We need to think this through!"

His phone pinged and Midoriya's grip on it tightened when he looked at the message. I'll give him some time to think it over, but I wouldn't keep her waiting too long. We'll be waiting in Frankfort when he's ready.

"Oh, how benevolent," Midoriya grumbled under his breath. Some time to think. He had just said that. Were there any bugs in the house beside their own? No, they checked for that regularly. Besides, if someone could come in here to plant bugs, they could've just killed Bakugou then instead of kidnapping her. And what did Frankfort mean? He wasn't even sure there was a Frankfort in this state. Was it a code? An inside joke? This person was playing a game.

Or they knew how this worked.

Midoriya liked neither option.

Another picture popped up, this one a close-up of Uraraka's face. She seemed to be uninjured despite being tied up, but that didn't mean she hadn't been tortured or pressed for information. Whoever had taken her wanted Bakugou and she knew where he was. The quickest solution would be to go through her. She was tough and could sure as hell take a beating, but she didn't have the training meant to teach them to withstand questioning under torture. The answers were usually unreliable, but that didn't stop people from trying.

What stood out in the picture was the black gloved hand, the fingers gripping her chin tightly to force her to look face first in the camera. This time, she wasn't looking at the camera, but whoever was holding onto her. The hand was large enough for him to know that it belonged to a man. He zoomed in as much as he could on her eyes, hoping to maybe see a reflection, but there was little to nothing to go on. This wasn't the movies. He couldn't magically create the image of her captor in her eyes.

Uraraka still didn't look afraid so much as angry. Maybe even disgusted. Midoriya wasn't sure, but he got the feeling that she recognized her captor. It was hard to tell with just two photos to go on, but they'd worked closely together for years. He liked to think that he recognized her moods and could read her facial expressions and body language.

She would fetch a pretty price, but I wonder how much she's worth to him, the last text said. If she makes it out of this, I hope the government can afford getting her another phone.

It was to be expected. Her phone was too easy to track. They'd likely destroyed it the second after sending that last text. It was what he would've done. If he had been at the field office, he could've tracked it right then, but they must have known that it was his turn to watch over Bakugou. How long had they been watching them? Searching the city? When Bakugou and Uraraka had left the safehouse, they had gone somewhere not around here.

"What's the bastard saying?" Bakugou demanded.

"Probably best you don't know," Midoriya said warily, taking a step back.

Bakugou held out his hand. "Give me the damn phone, Deku."

Midoriya tightened his grip on the device. "I told you: it's Agent Midoriya or just my name."

"I'll call you whatever the hell I want, shitty suit," Bakugou snarled, stepping forward and holding his hand out more insistently. "Now give me the fucking phone. This is my life we're bargaining here. I wanna know what that fuckstick who took Uraraka is saying."

While it was true that his suit was not as nice as Iida's or Shinsou's and he was known for wearing tennis shoes with them when his loafers were destroyed, his suit wasn't that bad. He needed to work on doing his tie better. Uraraka usually re-did it for him half the time. He glanced down at it now, noticing how short it was. If something were to happen to her, she wouldn't be there to help him anymore. It was a strange thought, probably inappropriate since it wasn't important, but it struck him hard enough to unsettle him.

"And I'm telling you that you're not in charge here, Kacchan ," Midoriya retorted. His tone must have been harder than anticipated because Bakugou reared back and an ugly look crossed his face. He wasn't used to being talked to like that – someone with his skillset usually wasn't – especially with that nickname tacked on.

Bakugou balled his hand into a fist and then pulled his hand back to his side. A strained look settled on his face, brows furrowed, eyes glowering, and lips pressed into a thin line. It was like he was struggling. Maybe he just didn't like getting toyed with, which this person was certainly doing. They were definitely working against his ego right now. Even if he didn't truly give a shit about Uraraka, he would not take someone taunting him lying down.

Dropping the tension from his shoulders, Midoriya sighed, "We can't go flying off the handle like some half-cocked–"

He never got to finish that sentence before Bakugou launched himself at him. Somehow, in the one second before the inevitable collision, Midoriya got the sense that his intentions were not fatal. Not that it mattered when he hit him hard enough to send them both flying into the couch and knocking it backward. If Bakugou thought he had the upper hand with surprise or that Midoriya wasn't used to fighting, he was sorely mistaken. Midoriya used their momentum against him, rolling as the back of the couch hit the floor, shoving on Bakugou's chest at the right moment and kicking him so that he was thrown into the wall.

As Midoriya rolled off his back and pulled his feet underneath him so that he was in a crouching position, Bakugou snarled from his spot against the wall. However, when they connected eyes, he smirked and Midoriya looked down at his very empty hands. Bakugou had used the tackle as a distraction to take the phone from him. He pushed himself up as well and held the phone in front of him, swiping the password on the screen. Midoriya's face burned a little. He changed that password constantly to avoid him doing that.

With the damage done, Midoriya watched as Bakugou read the messages. The smirked faded quickly and was replaced with an expression that grew steadily darker and more infuriated with each passing second. By the time he reached the last message, he was shocked that his phone hadn't melted from the intensity of his glare.

If looks could kill, this whole block would've been obliterated.

"Bakugou, we can't do anything rash," Midoriya warned.

"Are you suggesting that we sit on our asses and do nothing?" Bakugou questioned, his voice devoid of anything emotion despite the rage-filled expression on his face. It was unnatural. Everything showed that he put all of himself in everything he did. Impassive and unemotional was not his style.

"Of course not," Midoriya said, trying to force calmness in his voice that he didn't feel in the slightest. He stood up and straightened his button-up shirt. Think, think. He had to figure out what to do. Call Iida? Aizawa? Shinsou? Did he tell any of them? How would the kidnappers know if he did? His phone wasn't bugged, but he couldn't be certain that the others' weren't. Whoever they were at least knew their schedule. The message had not been meant for him but for Bakugou. If he hadn't been here, Bakugou wouldn't know about this.

Midoriya's heart plummeted into his stomach. How could he be sure the kidnapper wasn't someone on their team?

They were a tight-knit group and most of them had worked on multiple cases together. Midoriya had been involved in stings, tense operations, and shootouts with some of these people. He'd gone to barbeques, birthday parties, and weddings. He had known some of them for years. As small as the team was, four or five people alone couldn't work this case. Only a handful were aware of the location of the current safehouse, but other information was shared. The idea that it could be someone that he knew – or thought he knew – wasn't a pleasant one.

"You're thinking it too, aren't you," Bakugou said, his voice still flat. Midoriya flicked his gaze back to him. He had stood up, holding onto the phone almost tight enough to crack the screen. "You might have a mole issue."

Midoriya rubbed the bottom of his face. "I don't know. We looked into it after the attack on your house, but we didn't find any evidence."

Bakugou raised an eyebrow, almost looking impressed. "You looked at your own people?"

"I vetted Shinsou and then he combed through everyone else's files, phone records, recent debit transactions, and whatever else he thought was necessary," Midoriya replied, not feeling a hint guilty. When he had explained his actions to Iida, Shindo, and Aizawa, none of them had faulted him for it. Iida was an incredibly thorough person; his boss had a background in that kind of stuff; and Shindo was an open person anyway.

"I don't care," Bakugou decided forcefully, each word like a punch. "I'm not just going to sit here and do shit."

"I can't just let you walk out of here," Midoriya told him. "It's our job to protect you, even if it meant losing something in the process. Uraraka knows that. At the end of the day, your testimony is more important than our lives."

Bakugou stared at him. "So what? You're just going to let her fucking die for a job?"

"I'm not going to just give up on her," Midoriya insisted.

"It sure as hell sounds like it! You don't even know if you should call for backup!" Bakugou held up the phone, the last picture of her on the screen. If it looked like she knew the person… "The bastards are going to kill her if we don't do something. It'd probably be a mercy considering their other options. Trust me; I know plenty of disgusting bastards that would pay good money for a chance at a Suit like her."

Growling under his breath, Midoriya ran his fingers through his hair and turned on his heels. "I know! Damnit, I know that! Just… Let me think!"

"There isn't time!" Bakugou shouted, throwing the phone at him. He barely caught it. The last thing they needed was for their only mode of communication to be broken. "We've got one option and that's tear these motherfucker's a new one. We show them I'm not to be fucked with and we get her back. That's it! That's our only choice. We do this shit my way."

"You know what you're saying, don't you?" Midoriya asked him. There was a moment where Bakugou's lips twitched, his rage faltering, and then he turned his back to him.

The file on Bakugou said that he didn't have many personal attachments. His parents, a very normal couple with a nice house and beautiful garden in the backyard and a cute dog, lived on the other side of the country and hadn't heard from him in years. They hadn't even known if he was still alive. He'd cut off contact with them when he was twenty. He had associates, contacts, people he did business with. It was like he didn't understand the concept of friendship. He didn't go to barbeques or weddings or parties. He created more funerals than he would ever attend.

This reaction though was very personal. Midoriya couldn't deny that and neither could Bakugou.

"They want you for her. And we can go in there – guns blazing, bombs at the ready, whatever awful and violent thing you're thinking – but at the end of the day, you'd be risking your life for a fed, potentially sacrificing it." Midoriya knew that he was coming off as a bit cruel, maybe even cold. He wanted more than anything to save Uraraka, but he also knew that she wanted him to cut her off. Could she do the same for him? He didn't think so. Hypocrite. "Is saving your ego or pride worth that much?"

"She's worth that much, you idiot!" Bakugou snapped, rearing on him and looking ready to strike. However, Midoriya stayed rooted to the spot. His eyebrows did raise as a jolt of shock rocked him. Bakugou immediately knew that he'd made a mistake in opening his mouth and stomped to the other side of the room. The place wasn't decorated enough for him to destroy anything. "I fucked up, okay? I know that. I fucked up and I kept fucking up and I don't… I hate making mistakes. I'm supposed to be the best at what I do. And that means no fuck-ups, no wrong moves, nothing that I don't plan for. But I messed up big time and shit just… It spiraled. I kept doing it and now here we are."

Midoriya furrowed his brow. "Having personal attachments and emotions isn't a bad thing."

"In my profession it is!" Bakugou rubbed the bottom of his face in irritation. He'd shaved this morning. He always did before Uraraka's shift. Not that she talked about it or even dated much, but she did prefer clean-shaven guys. "I'm not an idiot."

"I never said you were," Midoriya said point blank. In truth, he knew that Bakugou was incredibly intelligent. He had to be in order to have not been caught yet. All the books in his home had pointed at it. To be frank, he could've been anything he'd wanted. He didn't have to be, well, a hired killer.

"I know…" Bakugou huffed, clearly not enjoying airing out any of his dirty laundry. "Look, I've got a code, okay? It's not much, but it's mine. I don't kill kids. Women get the same treatment as men. I don't torture. I don't do assault. I don't do kidnappings and ransoms. I prefer my marks to have shady pasts or behavior."

"So what? You kill bad guys and that makes it okay?"

Bakugou grit his teeth. "No, it doesn't. I know what I am – and I know what I'm not. I know that I'm not good enough for her, okay? I know that I would only ruin her life. Fuck, I have! She wouldn't be in this position if it wasn't for me. I got careless. I got stupid. I don't do that. I don't air my shit for a reason. But she just–"

It was a bit like watching a train wreck as Bakugou was forced to face all of his emotions at once. He was used to smothering them, like they were unnecessary, but under the stress of the situation, he couldn't keep them down any longer and they were all rising to the surface. It wasn't just rage boiling underneath his skin, but anxiety, regret, and a very real fear that he'd never felt before. It was concern, something much more than fondness, and he didn't know what to do with all of it.

"I thought it was a trick at first," Bakugou admitted, actually sounding ashamed. "Send in the pretty agent, get me to be more cooperative. She wasn't flirtatious, but she was nice. I fucking hate nice from law enforcement – it's so fake – but I played along with it. Figured I'd make a game out of teasing and annoying her and ruin the ruse." He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. "Then the attack happened and I realized I was wrong. Of course I didn't believe it right away. The playful banter, the seemingly genuine compassion, the sharp retorts, the clever insight. She could just be playing a long con. If you weren't aware already, I'm not a trusting person."

"I was going to say borderline paranoid, but highly suspicious at best," Midoriya offered.

Bakugou laughed mirthlessly. It was a cold sound. "I was a fucking idiot. Before I knew it, I wasn't playing a game at anything. It was real. I conned myself. How stupid is that?"

Midoriya shrugged his shoulders. "That's the real world, Bakugou. You weren't living in it."

"It doesn't matter," Bakugou said hollowly, opening his eyes. "I knew it was a mistake to get attached and I did it anyways. I didn't think it would put her in actual danger though. I've been out in public two fucking times in a month. I thought I'd done enough to keep them off my back."

This was more than regret or humiliation. This was something he'd been struggling with for a while. It must have been difficult dealing with it on his own. It had been years since he'd had someone to open up to. Midoriya knew fully well that he was one of the last people that Bakugou would've chosen to share any of this with, but the one person he would have preferred was out of their reach.

"Keep who off your back?" Midoriya asked, doing his best to stay focused. "Do you know who kidnapped her?"

"I've got an idea," Bakugou replied. "The reason I turned myself in. Like I said, I fucked up. I botched a hit."

"You've never done that according to our records," Midoriya pointed out.

Bakugou shot him an affronted look. "I've never done it on accident. I knew I shouldn't have taken the job, but the money was so good. Even better, the target was interesting and it would be difficult. I love a challenge. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to challenge myself. Gods, I'm such a fucking egomaniac sometimes." Well, he wasn't wrong. "But when I went to do it, I found out that I'd been tricked. They didn't set me up to kill the target; they set me up to kill his family in order to pressure him into doing what they wanted. I don't fucking do shit like that. I don't annihilate families."

"So what? You didn't do it? Whoever it was could've hired someone else."

"Maybe." Bakugou gave him a cold smile. "Except I killed the contact. Stupid, stupid decision, but I was so pissed when I met up with him that I just…" It didn't matter how he'd done it. The fact was that he had. This was perhaps the first time that Midoriya had heard him speak so frankly about his alleged crimes. They weren't so alleged anymore. "And this contractor holds a fuck ton of grudges. Pretty long and deadly ones too."

Midoriya stepped forward and asked again with more force, "Who?"

"Who do you think?" Bakugou retorted. "Who has the most power? The resources? The greed? I tried running and they kept finding me wherever I went. Who's got those kinds of connections around the world?" He sneered in a way that made Midoriya want to shudder, but he stood his ground. It was so bitter. "You think I got this way on my own? Just popped out of my mom with these abilities? Like my first toy was a sniper rifle and I practiced picking off my stuffed animals? I was fucking trained, you dipshit."

A cold chill ran all the way down Midoriya's spine when the horrible implication struck him. "You're not suggesting…"

"Sorry to burst your patriotic bubble," Bakugou said coldly. "Most of my early contracts were from the government. They were the quickest way to get paid. I branched out after that – cut my ties with them. It was better that way. The CIA often subcontracts to outside sources so the blame isn't put on them. It's a neat little trick that keeps politicians, businessmen, companies, and lobbyists squeaky clean. Except I went around and turned on them like an idiot. I made an enemy of someone with way more connections than me."

"Why turn to us then?" Midoriya asked. "You couldn't have been sure that the FBI could keep you safe."

Bakugou dropped into a chair. "You were the most convenient. The FBI is in the public eye the most and has been under a lot of scrutinies recently. Another scandal could rock the already shaky faith the public has in you. Plus, you all are such sticklers for paperwork and a paper trail with my name and words on it are damning at best." He leaned back and let out a breath. "I wasn't about to put my life in the hands of those idiot Marshals. I'm basically running from the CIA or the NSA – hell, maybe both. ATF is useless since I've never been an arm's dealer or drug trafficker, although a few of my targets were. You were the least dangerous option. Fucking Suits."

More like they were the last resort, but now was not the time to argue. Bakugou seemed so certain that whoever had Uraraka was involved in his last hit. Midoriya was an optimist, not an idealist. He knew that there were aspects about his own government and country that were flawed. It was only natural. Humans in general were flawed beings. He liked to look for the good in people, even after all the awful things he'd seen, but he wouldn't deny that everyone had a dark side, even himself. The best people could do was try to overcome that every day.

He knew enough from Aizawa that sometimes bad things were done in the name of good. Looking at a furious and wounded Bakugou now, he could see just that.

Uraraka's kidnapping was not one of those things.

Midoriya chewed on his bottom lip in thought. "If you're saying that our own government is behind this…"

"I could be wrong," Bakugou acknowledged. "It could be someone else entirely. You've seen the list: I've made no shortage of enemies. Comes with the territory." He leaned over so that his forearms were propped on his knees, a thoughtful and intense aura coming over him. "I don't give a shit who it is. They thought that they could just take Uraraka and use her to threaten me? I don't waste time making threats. The number one rule is that you don't bring civilians into this and they crossed that line."

"I wouldn't tell Uraraka that you called her a civilian," Midoriya pointed out.

"Good point." Bakugou raised his head to fix a look on him. There was no arguing with that look on his face. "The only question: are you going to let me pass or am I going to have to go through you? Because I'm getting her back and short of knocking me unconscious and locking me up, you're not stopping me."

The look on Uraraka's face came to mind – that warning look that said he would regret doing anything stupid. The thing was, wanting to save her wasn't stupid. They just had to be smart about it.

"You do realize that you're playing exactly into their hands if you do this," Midoriya pointed out. "They obviously don't know your location. The easiest way to get you would be to lure you out. You're the lamb going to the slaughter."

"I'm a fucking wolf," Bakugou countered.

"Not right now you're not," Midoriya told him, "not if you do what they want. You're putting yourself out in the open and in harm's way. Whether it's for Uraraka or your ego, that's the result they need."

"And I'm telling you I don't give a flying fuck," Bakugou ground out. "I'm the best at what I do. They want a war? I'll bring it to them. I'll take you down too if I have to. No hard feelings. It is what it is. All you suits are the same in the end. Bureaucratic fucks. The job is the job. Screw everyone else."

Midoriya tapped his chin. "Well, my job is to protect you, not necessarily keep you locked up in here. And seeing as how there's nothing I can do to stop you that won't end in this house's destruction…"

A smirk slowly began to grow on Bakugou's face. It was manic and dangerous and warned Midoriya that he was making a huge mistake that Uraraka was going to kill him for later when they saved her. Because they were going to do just that. They were going to save her, consequences be damned. He had gotten into law enforcement because he wanted to protect and save people. He wanted to do good in the world. How could he justify his badge if he didn't do just that? He couldn't idly sit by and do nothing. He couldn't let anyone get away with putting someone in danger, not even those above him.

This wasn't a movie. There was a high possibility that this would blow up in his face. Even if they did get out of this alive and intact, he would probably lose his job, maybe even more. If he didn't do anything though, he wouldn't be able to do this anymore. He couldn't say that he was doing good by doing nothing. The kidnapper had told him not to alert the authorities, but they hadn't said anything about him not coming too.

"This is probably going to end badly," Midoriya sighed, even though he didn't regret his decision.

"For someone it is, most definitely." Bakugou leaned further over and reached underneath the chair he was sitting on. When he sat back up, he was holding a suppressor-ready FNX-45 Tactical handgun with a mount for red dot sights.

Midoriya gawked. "Where did that come from?"

Bakugou pulled a few extra clips out from underneath the cushion. "You're about to find out."

"What?"

"Come on, Suit," Bakugou scoffed as he stood up. "This is a prime weapon, but your government-issued handguns aren't going to do shit. We're gonna need more than three guns if we're gonna save Uraraka."

Well, this wasn't going to bite him in the ass at all. Midoriya shook his head. It didn't matter. They had to save her. He was determined to do it no matter what. That was what this job meant to him. He didn't doubt for a second that she would do the same if their situations were switched, although Bakugou probably wouldn't fight her to save him. So this was what it looked like when an assassin had a heart. Very deadly.