Chapter Text
"This morning," Katsuki said, slowly, considering each word, "I went for a run."
Tentatively, Deku peeled back the edge of the wrapper on the hamburger Katsuki had smuggled into the hospital. The untrained observer might have thought he wasn't listening.
"I'm starting to get used to this new route," Katsuki continued.
"Do you like it?" Deku asked.
"No," Katsuki said.
Deku had found all the wrapper corners, folded them out and flat into a square, a star with a burger in the middle. "Why not?" he said, still looking away.
"I don't want a new routine," Katsuki admitted, "My old one was already perfect. I've been here way too long."
"Then leave," Deku said, picking up the burger.
Katsuki sat quiet, watching Deku take a bite and chew slowly. It was like walking in a maze with a blindfold and an electric fence for walls—and over time, Katsuki was getting good. He was starting to learn where to turn, how to walk without setting anything off. But he had no idea if he was making it any closer to the other end.
Sometimes, he wondered if this is how Deku used to feel.
Deku swallowed and set the burger down. "Look, we both know you can't leave because they—"
"Stop!" Katsuki said, running a hand over his face, "We've been over this! There is no they."
Deku bit his lip, staring down at his food, at his hands. "Sorry I got you stuck," he said.
"I'm not stuck," Katsuki said, and it was true, even if it felt like a lie.
"None of those other people come anymore," Deku said, "Because I didn't respond to them. So—sorry. I should have just said something to the first person."
"Then she'd be coming to see you," Katsuki said, which was true. It could have been Uraraka in here now. Probably, she could have done better.
"Yeah," Deku said, looking down. His hair was a little longer than normal, enough to keep Katsuki from seeing his face. "But then—when you came, you were crying. If I'd said something to the first person, then maybe they wouldn't have run through so many. They wouldn't have done whatever they were holding over you all to so many of—"
"Don't," Katsuki snapped, "It wasn't like that."
"I've not seen them since," Deku said, and he took another bite.
"You could," Katsuki said, almost hopeful.
Slowly, Deku shook his head. It's what Katsuki had been expecting—they'd been over this before. Deku didn't want to bring anyone else into this, didn't want to put anyone in danger with his attention. He couldn't get it into his head that he was already safe, had been for a while.
It was hard to tell if he even knew they'd had this conversation before.
"And you're sure you haven't noticed any improvement?" some idiot in scrubs asked him.
Katsuki shrugged. Whatever breakthrough had happened that first time he came didn't seem likely to repeat itself. He had to act nonchalant about it, or else he was going to start banging his head against a wall.
But, well, at least Deku was eating.
"By now, there should have been some kind of change," scrub idiot continued, picking up one of the papers on the desk to examine it. "We think that as victims interact with the world around them, the new information they learn starts to weigh against the influence of the quirk, weakening its influence on the mind. Have you tried talking to him about your day to day life?"
"Yes," Katsuki insisted, "He won't let me."
Scrub guy put the paper down and picked up another one. Katsuki got the idea that he was just as antsy, just as frustrated, but was trying to look professional about it. "Deku has shown remarkable resistance—from what we can tell, this quirk should have allowed the user complete control over the victim's actions. With no evidence that this occurred—it seems Deku's refusal to consider new information may have protected him in the past."
Katsuki sat back in his chair and tried not to scoff. That conclusion was all backwards. Deku's resistance had kept him from being controlled, and the mech suit through him, since he was the only one it responded to. It protected other people.
The only thing it did for Deku was keep him trapped.
"Want to come walk around the building?" Katsuki asked.
Deku stared at him, trying to pick the phrase apart, figure out where the lie was. It was an impossible task, because Katsuki wasn't lying. They could be here forever—Deku wasn't one to ever quit.
"No," Deku said finally.
"Don't you want to plot your escape route?" Katsuki asked.
Deku startled—the smallest little flinch. It must be disconcerting, interacting with someone who could predict your every move, someone you didn't know you'd met before.
"Look, it's fine if you think I'm manipulating you," Katsuki said, "Let's both get something we want out of this."
Deku settled back against the raised bed, staring resolutely at the wall. "And what happens to you, three or four or ten requests after this, when it's something bad, when I have to say no? Let's just not start."
With an incredible amount of self control, Katsuki did not turn around and blow up the side table. He tried to turn the frustration into brain power, sit and force himself to solve this. It didn't really work.
"Actually," Deku said, and trailed off.
Katsuki held his breath.
"Okay," Deku said, "Okay, I'll do it, but—only if you give me something I want."
"Sure," Katsuki said. He wasn't sure where this was going. There wasn't anything he would refuse.
Deku turned to look at him, determined. "Tell me what they're holding over you."
Katsuki marched through the hall, out into the lobby by the exit. He was planning to storm out to his car and drive to somewhere he could punch things, but he never made it to the door.
Over by the windows, sitting in one of the plain thin-cushioned chairs, was Uraraka.
Katsuki slowed his pace, stuck his hands in his pockets and meandered over. He was barely halfway there when Uraraka saw him and stood up.
"How's it going?" she said, more urgently than the question warranted.
Katsuki stuck his thumb out, turned it toward the floor. "Bad."
Uraraka's shoulders slumped. "I figured, but—well if it was going well, I might have caught you before you told the group chat."
"What are you doing here?" Katsuki asked. He didn't know all the details of Uraraka's schedule, but her agency definitely wasn't based in this city.
"I don't know," Uraraka said, brushing her hair behind an ear, "I don't really know. I can't see him but—sometimes I have free time, and I just come here anyway."
"I wish it was you," Katsuki said. He'd heard the story by now—they'd both named him Deku. Hers had been kind.
Uraraka looked at him a minute, then reached back, pointed at the row of chairs behind her. "Sit down."
Katsuki didn't need Uraraka and Deku on his case at the same time, so he did as he was told.
He hadn't really been paying attention to this area before. Yeah, there was a part of him always watching his surroundings, keeping an eye out for threats, but he didn't store the information unless he thought it was gonna be relevant. So now that he was sitting down, he noticed that this was a pretty perfect place to hang out—against the wall, good visibility of the room, far enough back from the main walkway to avoid some notice.
Uraraka sat down beside him. "Don't say that kind of thing. I already tried, remember? If you can't get through to him, then he just ain't ready. Don't beat yourself up about it."
Katsuki crossed his arms and slouched in his seat, but acting petulant didn't give him the same relief it used to. Maybe it would cheer Uraraka up. Still, he couldn't keep from talking straight with her. "If you really thought like that, you wouldn't be here now. Stop trying to make me feel better."
Uraraka didn't respond to that, except that her smile went a little strained. Katsuki almost rolled his eyes—it was bad enough with just Deku. He didn't need two friends who couldn't admit they were sad if somebody had a gun to their head.
Still, at least he had some relevant experience by this point.
"Look," Katsuki said, sitting up straight again, "If you really want to help, I could actually use your advice."
"Okay," Uraraka said, focused, "Shoot."
Unlike Uraraka, Katsuki's cheering up strategies didn't involve half-truths. Katsuki might have been the best at riling Deku up, but that wasn't helpful now. What Deku needed was somebody to calm him down, make him feel safe—and that wasn't exactly Katsuki's strong suit.
"He's got me cornered right now," Katsuki admitted, "He won't do anything until I admit what our kidnappers are holding over me as leverage. And I can't do that because we aren't kidnapped."
"Make something up," Uraraka said.
Katsuki shook his head. "His issue is that he can't see reality. I'm not gonna fix that with another lie."
Uraraka sat there a moment, rubbing at her temple. Then she said, "Can you get away with answering a different question?"
"Hey—Midoriya," Katsuki said. Like always, the word felt strange in his mouth. "I thought about your terms and—I'll do it."
Deku sat up, pulling his legs together to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing Katsuki. These days, they only really kept him in restraints when there wasn't someone around to watch him. The nurses thought it was a good sign. Katsuki was pretty sure Deku'd gotten it in his head that if he escaped while someone was there, he could get them in trouble.
Katsuki sat down on the chair beside him. It was lower than the bed, so their heights were off. Katsuki had to look up at him.
"So," Katsuki said, suddenly nervous, "The reason I have to come here."
Deku nodded, then glanced back at the hall. One of the first things the two of them had done in here was methodically search the room for bugs, until Deku was decently satisfied that they weren't being monitored. So Katsuki waited with him until there weren't any footsteps passing outside. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this by not taking it seriously.
"I have this friend," Katsuki finally said, "And something bad happened to him."
"Is he okay?" Deku asked.
"Physically, yeah," Katsuki said, "But he got all messed up in the head. He can't remember who I am anymore. He can't believe that he's safe."
"Oh," Deku said, and his face went all soft with pity, "I'm sorry—that must be so hard for both of you."
A weaker person might have struggled to keep a straight face. Luckily, Katsuki was the one driving this conversation. "He's in a hospital now," Katsuki continued, nonchalant, "And I think he's getting good care. But—I don't get to see him unless I come and work with you."
"We'll get him out," Deku announced, "When we escape, we'll take him too—we won't let anybody hurt him."
"Suit yourself," Katsuki said, standing up, "Now you owe me."
When they walked down the hall together, everyone stared. Katsuki wanted to slap each nurse he passed, get them to mind their own business, but he figured that would just cause a scene. Still, if they had half a brain they'd realize Deku didn't need to be the center of attention right now.
When they got to an empty area, Deku said, "What's your friend like?"
"An idiot," Katsuki said.
Deku's forehead furrowed. "He's—not bright?"
"No," Katsuki said, valiantly not tearing out his own hair, "He's actually really smart. Different kind of idiot."
"Okay," Deku said, in the tone that meant I have no idea what you're saying.
Well, Deku was an idiot.
They made it to the end of the hall, and Katsuki pushed the button to call the elevator. Then he pointed to the right, towards the stairwell. "That's where you want to go when you're running," Katsuki said, "Nobody can turn the stairwell off on you."
It was safe knowledge to share. Deku probably had thought of it already.
Deku didn't respond. He had a thoughtful look, and Katsuki couldn't quite tell if he was still thinking about his earlier line of questioning, or if he was actually planning out his escape.
The elevator doors opened, and the two of them stepped inside. Katsuki picked a floor at random—he wanted to find a place where the nurses hadn't been working with Deku.
"What happened to him?" Deku asked, "To your friend?"
Katsuki hesitated, trying to figure out how to phrase the truth in a way that wouldn't make Deku freak out.
"Sorry—nevermind," Deku said, "You don't have to tell me that. Not if you don't want."
"He's always getting into trouble," Katsuki said, suddenly unable to stop himself, "He's always getting hurt because he's an idiot who never takes himself into account."
"Then why are you friends?"
"Hah?" Katsuki blurted, stepping forward, "What do you mean?"
Deku held his hands up, placating. "I just—I don't know really what you were trying to say, but you sounded kind of unnerved. If he freaks you out, then—how did you get to be close?"
"That's complicated," Katsuki said, which was the understatement of the century.
The elevetor doors opened, and Deku slipped past him, hurrying out into the hall. Katsuki had to rush to catch up again—he couldn't let Deku actually run away.
Deku crossed his arms—not the petulant way Katsuki liked to, but the way Deku used to as a kid. There was something about the way his shoulders drew in that made him look smaller.
Katsuki wasn't great at small-talk in the best of times. And he had to say something, so he figured he'd just cut to the chase. "I can't stand it when somebody's better at something than me. Freaks me out."
Deku looked up at him, eyes wide.
"So—this friend of mine—sometimes I hated him," Katsuki admitted, "But I could never get him out of my head. There's something about him that I wish I had. Makes me want to imitate him."
"Huh," Deku said, tapping his chin, "That's kind of odd, but it makes sense. I'm sorry he doesn't remember you."
Katsuki shrugged. "Maybe he will."
"So is it one bribe per walk, or is walking categorical?" Katsuki asked, using his foot to push the door closed behind him.
Deku didn't say anything.
Katsuki stepped forward, let the bag of takeout in his hand drop down on his chair, harder than it needed too. Then he looked over at Deku, and that's when he realized something had gone wrong.
"Izu—de—Midoriya," Katsuki managed, already fed up with his own response, "What happened?"
Deku was laying on the bed, restrained again. There was a bruise on his cheekbone, a matching set on his right knuckles. He wouldn't look Katsuki in the eye.
"Tell me what happened," Katsuki demanded.
It was like he was talking to rock. Katsuki wished Deku would at least tear up or something—it would make it feel like he was still in there, wanting out.
"Just—stay there," Katsuki said, which was stupid, because what else was Deku gonna do. Then he headed back for the door.
The only reason Katsuki didn't enter the office and immediately start blowing things up is because scrubs guy looked just about as ticked off as he was.
"What happened," Katsuki demanded. He didn't need to get any more specific than that.
Scrubs guy set down the stack of papers in his hands, harder than he needed to. "Deku escaped last night."
Katsuki nodded. That made sense—he could imagine that dragging Deku back here probably hadn't gone well for anyone. "Who found him?"
"He turned himself in to the police," scrub guy said, "Or rather, he went to them for help, and they returned him."
It took a second for that to sink in, for the weight to settle in the muck of Katsuki's gut. "So now he thinks the police are corrupt?"
"He certainly wasn't thrilled with them when their car pulled into the parking lot," scrubs guy said.
Katsuki had to stop, think about how he was breathing, make sure the speed wasn't picking up too much. They were there—they'd been right there at the breakthrough. Deku had found somebody he was willing to trust, to ask for help from. And they'd gone and ruined it, even if they'd meant well. Now they were gonna be back at square one.
"Is he eating?" Katsuki asked, remembering where they'd really started, "Did he eat today?"
Scrubs guy shook his head. Then he picked up the top paper from his stack, started staring at it like he might find the answers to all his problems there, or else, like he could use it to escape from them.
Katsuki felt something inside himself snap, the last strand of the rope he'd been holding on to. All that was left was to do something drastic.
So while scrubs guy was distracted, Katsuki grabbed the scissors from his pencil holder and slipped out of the room.
Deku hadn't moved since Katsuki left him.
Without preamble, Katsuki pulled his phone from his pocket and threw it under the bed. Then he started cutting Deku's restraints with the scissors.
That got a reaction all right. Deku startled, like he was coming awake.
"What, don't you want to leave?" Katsuki asked, quieter than normal.
"Kacchan," Deku breathed, and total shock kept him from getting any farther.
"Pull those ends off," Katsuki instructed, pointing to the parts of the restraints still on Deku's wrists. With the other end cut, the knot would slide out easily. "Nobody can know you weren't supposed to be walking around."
Katsuki's pulse didn't stop thumping in his ears until they made it out of the lobby, out into the parking lot. If anyone could have taken one look at them and known what they were up to, it would have been Uraraka. Luckily, she wasn't here today.
The minute they'd closed the car doors, Deku whipped around and asked, "Where are they keeping your friend."
"There is no they," Katsuki said, and started the car.
"If you wanted to be all mysterious then you could have just said nothing," Deku said.
"We have to leave," Katsuki said, considering his words carefully, "My friend—is safe where he is, for now. And—us, leaving now—it's a risk we have to take. I think it will help him, in the end. I don't want him in that hospital forever."
Deku nodded, eyes shining. "I'm really glad you've come around."
"Yeah, whatever," Katsuki said, pointing to the bag on Deku's lap, "Now eat your takeout."
They stopped briefly at the hotel where Katsuki was staying to pick up some supplies, a set of normal clothes for Deku, and Katsuki's coms. Then, when Katsuki got back in the car, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out the paper map of Japan his Dad had given him, just in case he got lost somewhere with no signal.
"Direct us," Katsuki said, throwing the map at Deku.
Deku didn't unfold it. "Just drive in a random direction for a while—if we don't have a strategy for the first part, then it will be harder for them to track us down."
Six hours into the road trip, Deku fell asleep.
Cautiously, Katsuki grabbed a com from his pocket and stuck it in his ear. He'd left his phone in Deku's room to confuse anyone who tried to track their location, but he wasn't stupid enough to think Class A couldn't hunt him down anyway. Somebody surely had a picture of his license plate. And anyway, Katsuki didn't want them to worry.
Jirou responded almost immediately. "Where are you?"
"We're fine," Katsuki said, "Going north on National Route Four. Just got off to get gas."
"What happened?" Jirou demanded. Katsuki could relate. "Where's Midoriya?"
"With me," Katsuki said. "I had to—"
Something pricked on Katsuki's neck, the same kind of feeling he used to give his Mom when he tried to sneak up on her. Katsuki turned, looking for the watcher.
Deku was awake, staring straight at him.
For a moment they both sat there, looking at each other, letting something unspoken hang in the air. Then Katsuki had to look back at the road to make sure they weren't about to crash.
"Dynamight?" Jirou asked.
Katsuki heard the seatbelt click, and he knew in an instant what Deku was going to do. "Don't—Deku!" Katsuki blurted, but he started breaking anyway.
Deku opened the passenger door and jumped out into the night.
This was a smaller road than the National Route, spanning the half kilometer from there to the nearest town. It curved, cutting into a hill, so that the left side had no margin on the edge, just a guard rail and a steep incline. Katsuki couldn't pull over and park.
Deku vaulted over the rail and ran, fast. Gravity was on his side. In the dark, he was already hard to see.
"You better not be ignoring me because I won't say the full name!" Jirou shouted.
Cursing, Katsuki jerked the wheel to the right, cut across the other lane and parked his car in the drainage ditch on that side, the flat place before the hill rose up again. Then he undid his own seatbelt, scrambled up and over the passenger seat, toward the open door. As soon as he could tell his limbs were clear, Katsuki used his quirk, shot forward into the gap.
Katsuki had always had an excellent sense of balance, of his own orientation in space. And by the time Katsuki got to high school and started using his quirk to fly around, that natural talent had a decade of intentional practice to back it up. So it was extremely rare for him to blast himself into something. The feeling, though, was unforgettable. All his dexterity, all his momentum, cut off like a light put out. Afterwards, an ache all over, a pounding in his head. Normally it wasn't that bad—Katsuki noticed things. Usually, if he was gonna hit a wall or something, he could at least swing his arm around, slow his trajectory.
Katsuki hadn't seen this one coming at all.
The car door opened, which was strange, because Katsuki hadn't closed it. Still, the sound of the latch was distinctive.
There wasn't time to think about it. Deku was getting away, and Katsuki was lying here on the pavement. He threw his arm out, pushed himself up, and his vision blacked out. His palm slipped, refusing to bear weight.
"Where's the deer?" a voice said, distant, "Did you find it yet?"
"No," another said, "There's a dent here, but it must have—Masuda. Masuda, get out here!"
Katsuki blinked, tried to put the pieces together. He'd run into something, but there was no wall. The road was empty. It had been. His brain was too scrambled to get farther.
"What is it?" the first voice said, uncertain.
The car door opened again. "That's not a deer," a third voice said, "Shibuya—that's not a deer!"
Katsuki closed his eyes, tuning them out. This puzzle didn't matter, because even if he figured it out, it wouldn't help him to get up and run, to keep Deku from getting himself lost. He was going to lose him.
Katsuki hated losing.