Chapter 26 - Lost Things

I was fine.

Really.

There was nothing - no pain, no anger - as I stepped over the threshold and back out into the hall. The police officers jerked upright, some stumbling away from the door so fast that instinctively I knew they had been listening in. What did I care, though? Just another report for them to file on how gullible I had been.

Mic followed after me quickly, closing the door behind him with a soft click - the only sound in the lethal quiet that surrounded us all. But I would take this silence over the one I had left behind. That silence was an end to everything that had been. And this - this was just an absence of everything else.

I felt Mic's hesitant presence at my back, the intense gazes of the police fixed on my front, and moved without thought. My feet carried me forward through the hall, hardly noticing who or what was around me even as I pushed through to the too-bright lobby once more. In the time it took me to blink back the new light, my armed guard had hurried to take up a perimeter around me. A cage, some part of me realized. But it was fine. I was fine.

Each step through the lobby, through the curious onlooker stares, was another step away from him and the fool I had blindly been - steps that I was all too happy to take. And yet, with each step and the bitter hollowness within swelled. I welcomed it back like an old friend, invited it in, encouraged it to swallow me so completely that I wouldn't have to think. Wouldn't have to remember. Wouldn't have to feel.

I would have continued walking forever, passing through the hospital's sliding glass doors with their opening and closing hiss, if not for the sudden cold that slammed into me.

The cold…And the dark.

We were well into spring, but it seemed the vestiges of winter still lingered on as it rushed into me, brutal and claiming. Whatever warmth I had was gone as I shivered, my thin shift and clothes doing nothing against the harsh cold.

Wrapping my arms about me, I lifted my head to the night sky, my breath swirling upwards into the vast oblivion. Stars twinkled in and out between the silver-lined clouds like flecks of paint on canvas.

Truthfully, not something I did often - night watching, but it would seem that I would not have many chances left after today. Perhaps, tonight would be my last. And at that I clutched myself tighter.

"Sir, we need to keep moving before…anything happens." One of the police officers spoke out, his apprehension vaguely registering in my mind.

"For pity's sake, man," Mic hissed back. "Give it a rest, will ya?" For a moment I had forgotten that the Hero was even there. Somehow behind me. But always there. Always. "She isn't going anywhere. Can't you see that?!" He snapped, his voice rising higher and higher to cut clear over my head. "So give us a second!"

Apparently, that answer was not good enough for the voice, as it began to insist. "Sir-"

A sound came out of Mic, a heated, low blast of air from his nostrils that reminded me of a tea kettle close to simmering.

Then the breath stopped.

"Alright. I'll take her back." Mic replied. Each word was clipped - sharp.

Heavy boot steps rounded me before the Hero's face dipped down, blocking out the star speckled sky. Hands grasped my shoulders, tight enough that I could feel the seams within the shaped leather gloves. Tight enough for me to know how powerless I was against him.

"Eve?" He asked simply, gently. Green eyes searched across my face for some sort of recognition. Some sort of acknowledgment that I had heard. But there was nothing.

I stared blankly back. Both here and not here. Both understanding and not caring as I let him coax me back to his car. The blue, pinstriped relic, now near navy in the dim light, awaited us as Mic hurried to open the passenger door, seeing me safely inside before shutting me in.

Some sort of unspoken urgency quickened his movements as he appeared in the driver's seat in the following second and stirred the mustang to life. The engine sputtered and roared, its powerful rumbling vibrating down into my very bones as the Hero put it into gear and veered out of the parking lot far faster than we had entered it.

Mic didn't bother to wait for the police - for our assigned escort. We were out and onto the street, leaving them all behind and scrambling to follow.

What the reason was behind Mic's sudden rush to depart, I didn't know. Didn't care to ask. He didn't offer an explanation either as he steered us onto the highway, joining the rushing stream of cars. Soon the road began to climb steadily higher, the surrounding buildings falling away beneath us until all of the city and its sprawling darkened horizon came into view. Along with-

The mountain of U.A. High.

Even from this distance it was hard to miss. The city itself had nestled itself around its base, their bright, warm lights hugging to it while the mountain alone remained dark save for the shining jewel atop its crest. U.A. High and all of its four interconnected towers were alight in the night, shining out like a beacon.

No - not a beacon. A pyre.

Because that's what it was going to be. For me. The heroic light that guarded and protected the common citizen below would not extend to me for a second time.

But it was fine. I was fine.

And I felt - nothing.

Slowly, I slunk down the smooth surface of the leather seat, the seat belt cutting a hard line into my jugular as I rested my forehead against the chilled glass. The rumble and purr of the tires vibrated up the window to bounce across my skull, lulling me into an idle stillness. My lids started to drift and the dark world and passing stream of cars blurred out into a single mottled canvas.

Common sense was a little more than a whispering notion, warning me that I should stay awake. That I should prepare for what was to come. Yet, the last remaining remnants of my energy were slowly flickering out. Sleep was coming. There was no fighting it, and I found I did not want to. Did not care that I should be awake when we arrived back - when the Commission came to claim me. There was blissfulness in not knowing, not seeing. How could I fear something if I never saw it coming?

So I surrendered and closed my eyes.

Sleep took me without mercy, sending me tumbling through wild dreams of reaching hands, gurneys, and piercing needles. And ever present through them all was a cage made of lifeless metal walls.

Time became a tricky, slippery thing and when I finally managed to claw my way back to the surface of consciousness, the first thing I noticed was the absence. The silence.

There was nothing. No sounds, no rumble of the engine or the grind of tires. Nothing but a still and oppressive heaviness. The kind of heaviness that one might expect to find buried beneath the depths of the earth.

Tartarus.

I lurched forward, eyes flying wide open. Molten adrenaline pumped through my veins as something tight cut across my ribs and hips, digging in and restraining me back. The crack came from my neck as it snapped downwards, showing me in the shifting dark the two lines splitting across my torso and waist.

A seat belt.

Confusion popped through the panic as I blinked once, then twice, dazed at the strange sight. A moment more and clarity struck.

I was still in Mic's car. A car that had previously been moving but clearly wasn't anymore if the lack of engine vibrations and quiet darkness was anything to go by.

I took a breath, relaxing back.

I was fine. I was safe. I wasn't in Tartarus -

Something gripped my shoulder, and the air in my lungs ejected in a scream.

I whirled to face my attacker, ripping my shoulder away while hurtling myself against the car door. The pain barely registered as my acid-torn back hit the side, my whole body bracing for the sting of a needle to force me back under. But it was not a needle I beheld, but a hand.

A mixture of confusion and bewilderment lined Mic's face as he stared, slack-jaw at me.

"You-" He stopped suddenly, his stare traveling over my coiled form, noting how hard I was trying to become one with the side of his car. "You okay?"

Breathing like I had run a mile, I looked from his still suspended hand to the rest of the interior. It was just me and him. Me and Mic. Mic - the one who had caught me when I had fallen. The one who had called me friend. The one who had taken me away when I asked. He was safe. With him I was safe.

Gingerly, I peeled myself off the door, wincing as the pain spreading under my bandages finally caught up to my brain. I gulped down shaky breaths, scrubbing my hands across my face as if it would hide my momentary faux pas.

"Eve?" Mic pressed.

The sound of my own name got my lips moving.

"Yah, I'm-" I forced down a breath when my voice threatened to shake, "I'm okay. You just startled me. That's all."

He made a noise in his throat, one that didn't sound entirely convinced by that answer. As if going into a panicked whirlwind wasn't a totally normal response to being touched. But, when I looked up, his hand was gone. Instead it was on the handle of his door, pressing it open.

"Well, whenever you're ready, come on out." He encouraged, voice light and easy. It must have been for my benefit, something to calm me. And it did until he added, "We're here."

I froze, hands somewhere halfway down my face as Mic exited the car, closing the door behind him with a dull thump.

Here.

We were here.

Did that also mean it was time?

My nightmares returned in vivid color as I bolted upright in the seat, my head turning on a swivel as I scanned the darkness out beyond the windows. Through inky blackness and panes of glass I caught sight not of the school with its glimmering glass towers, but of barrier walls, lawns, trees -

Houses.

I frowned.

I was in a neighborhood, that much was clear. Night cloaked the area in thick shadows, but an aching feeling of familiarity rose up within as my gaze slipped to one in particular - a quiet, unassuming, two-story structure.

My heart went still.

I knew where I was.

I was home.

I tore that thought from my head the instant it came. This was Aizawa's home. Not mine. Had never been mine.

Stealing a second glance around, I noted for the first time that our police friends were missing. Where were they? Scratch that - why were we here? How did we get here? Last I remembered there was only one entrance into the school. Was there some sort of secret passageway, or-

I stopped the thought short.

Too many.

There were too many questions. They tumbled and clamored painfully against each other around and around in my skull in search of answers. But I would find no answers in here.

And so, reaching for the clasp, I unclipped the seat belt and opened the door.

Frigid night air struck my senses like a slap in the face as I stepped out, the smell of earthen decay and the faint bite of brine mingling within the cold. A harsh wind rustled through the trees, and craning my head back I could just make out the top of U.A. High rising above the darkened canopy. The tall towered building was brighter than a tree lit up on Christmas Eve. Every light had to be turned on inside, and behind the windows I spied movement, the shadows of figures passing back and forth. Far too many and far too frenzied to be just the faculty.

Police.

I stared up at the building, thinking.

When Tsukauchi had given his consent for me to leave, I was more than certain that it had been on the condition that I was returned back to U.A. High. Under guard and under watch. And while we were close, this wasn't the high school. Hell, it wasn't even the front of the school.

I dropped my gaze to Mic's dark silhouette, finding him standing on the other side of the car. If anyone had the answers, it was him - the one who had brought me here.

Strangely though, Mic wasn't moving. Didn't even glance my way as I shut the car door with a loud enough thud to get anyone's attention. Whatever had his interest was in his hands, the light of his phone's screen illuminating his face and casting eerie shadows that bracketed his mouth in a hard grimace. Both of his thumbs were engaged across the screen's lower half in a fervid battle. Soft dings joined the hard tap of his fingers as messages came and went in a disjointed clamor.

Surely, whoever he was texting could wait.

I cleared my throat and called out to him. "What are we doing here, M-"

"THOSE BASTARDS!"

I jumped as the Hero's voice shot through the sleeping neighborhood like a bomb. Birds scattered into the darkened skies, their wings beating furiously against the air. From one of the darkened houses, a series of howls responded back in riotous alarm, throwing themselves against the front door with terrifying presence.

Then everything went still - went silent - as Mic's eyes lifted their way to mine. And in them I saw fear.

A cold sensation trickled down the back of my neck and I glanced at the phone in his hand. The poor thing looked like it was on the verge of shattering in his grip before I caught sight of the screen. Blue and white message bubbles dotted the display, but it was the last one that caught my attention - a single short line of incoming text. I couldn't read it from this distance, but I had no need to.

That shout - that look - it only meant one thing.

The order for my arrest had finally come in.

My heart remembered to beat, but the beats came in too fast and too hard. The wind stirring through the trees became the sound of footfalls on fast approach. The snap and crack of branches the sound of guns being drawn.

Unadulterated terror shot through my bloodstream as I looked to the shadows, waiting for the police to start crawling out of them in droves.

I didn't think. My eyes flashed, piercing through the darkness and scanning as far as I could see.

Nothing.

No bodies. No souls.

We were alone.

But that fact offered no comfort. Just because we were alone now, didn't mean it would stay that way for long.

I twisted behind at the way we had come, seeing the quiet, winding road as it slipped between the sleeping houses.

I could run. Right now. Make it to the wall and climb. There had to be a way out. A way to run.

A breathless giggle bubbled up, becoming a crazed hitch in my lungs at that ridiculous notion - running. Like I could run from this place. Like I could out run Mic - a Hero turned friend. And soon, my capturer.

Oh, yes. Mic would capture me. No amount of friendship was going to change that, just like no amount of friendship was going to change what was about to happen. Mic would seize me because of who he was, and then the police would have me because of who I was. After that would come…Tartarus. Hundreds and hundreds feet of earth and ocean. All of it pressing down upon me and ensuring that I would never see the light of day ever again.

The hitch in my lungs intensified, and I found that I couldn't breathe. The air refused to meet my blood no matter how many breaths I took.

I clutched at my chest, the sound of my own heart a rushing, pounding roar in my ears.

I was wrong. Oh, so wrong.

I wasn't fine. With Tartarus. With going quietly into the depths of hell. What if Ivan didn't get to me in time? What if he wasn't able to hack into Tartarus and help me escape? There were limits to his skills - case and point the very thing that had put me into this whole debacle to begin with. If he was unable to hack into the Commission, why did I ever think he could get into the prison that housed the nation's worst criminals? No. There would be no rescue. No help.

The pressure in my chest steadily built, my lungs screaming out for air. I was suffocating, and I clawed at my chest, nails sinking deep down into the bandages as if I could tear a new hole for me to breathe. As if I could relieve the pressure before I completely ruptured.

Something firm wrapped around my wrist, prying it away from my chest with unnerving strength.

I flinched and spun back. Somehow Mic was standing before me. No - he had already caught me. That was his hand encased around my wrist, large and unyielding.

Mic stared down at me and spoke, but my ears - everything felt distorted, dull, faded. Crushing darkness was creeping in, consuming every sense except touch. A cruel irony that it was the one sense I was left with as the grip on my wrist tightened for a moment and pulled. Mic turned towards the school, tugging me along behind him.

I took a single step and whatever was keeping me standing failed.

My knees hit the ground then my hand. There was no strength left and the rest of me crumbled against the street in a single, graceless heap.

The grip on my captive wrist vanished in the next second and my arm crashed down to join me on the ground. Immediately I curled into a ball, clinging to myself for all that I was worth. Perhaps, if I shrank I could finally breathe. Could finally disappear. Could finally be free.

The tips of Mic's boots appeared before my eyes, shining, glistening points in the moonlight only to darken as he dropped down. His voice fell over me in a rushed, jumbled mess, but not a single word reached me.

Not a single word - except sorry.

The next moment I was upside down, the ground passing beneath me like a dark river. My hair and arms dangled lifelessly as a corpse, swaying freely in the open breeze as the backs of Mic's long legs kicked in and out of view far below. My own legs were locked against his front, a strong arm clasped around them, keeping them there.

So this is how I went out - carried on the shoulder of a Hero like a lamb to slaughter as I barely clung to consciousness. How utterly pitiful. If only the Commission could see me now - the big, bad criminal worthy of being sent to Tartarus. They would laugh, and distantly in my mind I heard them too. The mocking glees mingling with the dismissive snorts.

Anger rose within only to die a heartbeat later. There was no energy. Not even an ember to ignite the fire to fight as Mic continued to hold me close. What could I do? Against a Hero? The Commission? I had no power. No energy. What choice did I have but to give in?

Heaviness sank deep into my bones and I let my eyes close as I waited for the rumble and swoosh that would herald the underground elevator to take us away.

Yet, it never came.

Rough asphalt crunched underfoot before something quieter took its place. Mic took a step, then another, and faintly I got the impression that we were rising before abruptly we came to a stop. The arm holding me shifted then, a click of a key in a lock, the sound of a door smacking open.

Lights flared and I was falling backwards. Hands were on me, setting me down against a cold wooden floor. My weight returned to my backside, gravity threatening to drag the rest of me down in full force until hands gripped my shoulders, holding me upright.

Weakly I craned my head up, immediately regretting the decision as the harsh sting of light assaulted my irises. I blinked, the movement sluggish and dazed.

A shadow fell in front of the cruel light - a pale face towering above. Worry marked every crevice as it stared back until it descended, coming eye level with my own. The hands on my shoulders tightened and the lips belonging to the face moved, but my gaze slipped past.

Darkness lay beyond. Until it wasn't just beyond. It was creeping inside, slithering at the edges of my vision like snakes devouring everything until there was nothing but a single point of light. But that too was fading now. I was fading.

"Eve!"

Supple leather and heated skin seized the sides of my face, bringing it to meet brilliant green irises. "You gotta stay awake for me! Now's not the time to be takin' a nap!"

I didn't care. His words meant nothing to me. But those eyes - they filled the tiny point of light, growing wider and wider until green rings was all I could see. They were so close. Too close. And they were searing into me.

I reeled back, taking my head with me. The hands on my face held firm for a moment, as if afraid that I would collapse under my own weight again before they reluctantly let me go.

Air - sweet, blessed air shoved its way down my throat, refilling my chest as I coughed in ragged lungfuls, gasping out on the wooden floor.

With air came cognizance, and I had barely begun to think just how close our faces had been when I glanced about, recognizing the space I was sitting in. Barren walls lay on my left and right, a wide, open door in front of me, and I was sure that if I turned around I would see stairs and an entryway that opened into a small kitchen - Aizawa's home.

Questions frothed to the surface and I turned back to Mic, only to forget them all. For the eyes that had been so close were still there, leaning so far forward that the tips of our noses were in danger of touching.

For a long moment Mic simply watched me behind the sunset tinted shades. Unblinking concentric eyes raked through me inch by painstaking inch but never did they move. I felt like I was being assessed, and something within that thought made my gaze harden back.

I could break, I could shatter, but I would not be defined by the cracks that showed.

One corner of Mic's lips shied upwards, almost as if he was relieved. Relieved that the fire hadn't gone out within me. Even if that fire had become anger.

"You're just like him." He breathed.

What?

I never got the chance to ask who he meant before he blinked, the smile replaced with an even stare. Mic squatted back on his heels, relinquishing back precious inches between us as his arms dangled over his knees. "You with me now, Ghosty?"

I nodded numbly, still thrown somewhere between confusion and the lingering rage.

"Good. Now listen up. It's important that you hear this." Mic announced, his tone turning grim. "You'll be safe here tonight. They won't be able to get to you as long as you stay inside this house." He pointed a finger to the worn floor between us.

I stared at him, dumbstruck. Dumbstruck by the utter bullshit of that claim.

What was so safe about this particular place that it would stop a horde of police officers from charging in? Or for that matter - Heroes? They were practically one in the same, both now my enemy, and yet… And yet, one of them was right in front of me. Going out of his way to do the exact opposite.

Why?

A cheerful tune sang out, silencing the unspoken question on my tongue as Mic fished out his phone. With a single look at the screen and his face darkened. He uttered a curse under his breath and silenced the phone, tucking it away. Quickly he stood, rising like a great pillar above me.

"I gotta go, Ghosty. If they find out that I'm hanging around here, I won't be able to…" His voice faltered and died. I watched him as he swallowed, his face tilting away to the night as his gloved fists shook at his sides. "Whatever you do," he spoke after a moment, the words coming out raw and tight, "don't answer the door and don't leave the house no matter what. Even if you hear a knock, you don't open it. Nod if you understand me." He turned back to me, his expression like a brand.

There was no chance of understanding it - what he was saying, but at the very least I could try to give some semblance of the act. So I bobbed my head, not trusting my voice to reply.

There must have been something wretched looking about me sitting there on the floor for I could think of no other reason why Mic's brows pinched in the next second and that hardened gaze dissolved. Before I knew what was happening he dropped back down, seizing me and pulling me hard against his chest. Arms wrapped tightly about me as he tucked my head over his heart, his body curling around mine.

Surprise overrode the momentary twinge of pain that rolled across my shoulders as those arms caged me in. The smell of leather shoved its way into my nostrils with every breath, and through the material I heard the faint sound of his heart, a strong yet hastening pulse.

"It'll be okay, Ghosty. You'll see." He murmured softly, each word vibrating throughout his chest and into me like a gentle purr as he held me against him. "Trust us to figure this out. We'll talk sense into the Commission and then everything will be back to normal. Just wait."

I wanted to believe that, but - His phone went off again, louder this time and far more demanding.

I knew who was calling. We both knew who was calling.

Mic's arms tensed at the sound, the heat of his body like a furnace through my thin shift before he finally let me go. He stood again and took hold of the open door, his phone ringing away untouched before falling silent.

He tilted his head back, giving me one last pitiful look. "Remember what I said. Don't answer. Don't leave." A moment - a final gaze, and he added, "I'll be back when I can."

And with that he was gone.

I heard the slide of the key in the lock, the turn of the tumbler falling into place, and silently watched as Mic's tall silhouette faded out behind the inlay crystaled glass.

The rumble of the car's engine started up a second later, then the squeal of the tires against the pavement as they raced away into the distance until all there was left was the empty silence.

I was alone now. Well and truly alone.

The warmth Mic had given faded away as I stared up at the locked door, waiting.

If a Hero was refusing their orders, then the Commission would send their next best option. And, as it were, there were multitudes of them currently occupying U.A.'s towers. So I waited - waited for shadows to appear on the other side of the glass. Waited for the latch to turn and the lock to disengage. Waited for nameless, uniformed faces to sweep inside and take me away. What could I do? I had nothing and no one. Certainly no defense and nothing to fight back with. All that stood between me and whoever was coming was a few inches of wood and glass. A paltry defense, but -

But that wasn't true, was it?

My mind replayed Mic's absurd words - that I was safe here tonight. That they couldn't reach me. All of it implied a restriction. A deadline. As if a magical protection spell had been cast over the house that would break the moment the sun rose again.

I shook my head and scoffed.

Yeah right. Such a thing only existed in fairy tales. Nevertheless, the more I waited, the more an overwhelming nothing happened.

Minutes stretched by and a tingling numbness took up residence in my legs that I could no longer ignore. I shifted my weight and gathered my limbs under me to stand. Wobbling to my feet, I chanced a step and stumbled. My hand smacked against the wall with a resounding thud and I let out a curse.

Of course my legs were useless to me now - now that I was alone and free from watching eyes. Free to do whatever I wished-

Whatever. I. Wished.

I whirled back towards the door as my eyes shifted beyond the house's walls to the street beyond in search of any lingering souls outside.

Still nothing.

If anyone was coming, they've had more than enough time to do so by now.

It would seem that Mic's ridiculous statement held some weight after all.

I faced the hallway once again, clutching to the wall for support as I stumbled past the kitchen. My stomach roiled in nauseated hunger, baying and growling up into a buzz in the back of my throat, knowing full well that food lay just there. But I ignored it.

Hunger was easy to ignore. Easier than time. And time was something I could not waste - not if tonight was all I had.

My leaden feet reached the foot of the stairs, and, with effort, started the arduous climb. With each step a plan started to form in my mind, and for what it was worth, I sent out a mental apology to Mic by the time I reached the third step. His hope - his assurance - that everything will be alright…I couldn't rely on it. On him.

The time for trust in Heroes was over. One way or another I was going to have to save myself.

One way or another I was getting out of here.

Hello, everyone! It's been a while, I know. I'm still here - just very, very slow to get anything out. Currently working on that.

Anyways, I want to send a huge thank to every single one of you who have followed the story to this point, along with all the encouraging comments I have received asking for more. Every time I see a new follower/favorite or comment, it really makes my day :) So thank you, thank you, thank you!