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Izuku was running, sprinting through the streets with the kind of reckless abandon that would drag anyone's attention should anyone be around to care. No one was though, not in this part of the city at this time of night. The skies and streets were empty of patrolling heroes, and no one would risk entering territory so thoroughly controlled by All For One. Especially not at night. Even All Might would hesitate before entering, and that was exactly why Izuku was here. Looking over his shoulder, he scanned the direction he had come from, panic rising despite the emptiness of the roads behind him.
He slammed into something – someone – falling back on his ass with a shriek of panic. They had found him. They had found him. No. No, he couldn’t– they would– No!
"The FUCK?" A raspy, gruff voice growled above him, and Izuku could have cried at the sound. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms desperately around the man as tears streamed from his eyes and his voice chocked with broken sobs.
"Please! Please, don't let them t
and me, don't let them– I can't– they want to– PLEASE!"
"Woah, kid, breathe, what the hell is happening?"
"They're gonna take my quirk. Please. Please I can't. I can't be quirkless again. I can't. You have to save me. You have to. Please. I can't go back. I can't. I can't. Please. Please, I can't."
"Shh, kid, I've got you, I've got you," Dabi's voice, still rough, but now gentle and soothing rather than its usual harsh tone, flooded over Izuku, and he collapsed completely into the man, the exhaustion from running for several hours finally hitting him. Perhaps he shouldn't feel this safe in a villain's arms, but given All Might wanted to rip his quirk from his bones because Izuku couldn’t do anything right even with a quirk, because he was a failure from start to finish, because he would never be anything of use, well maybe the villains was exactly where he belonged. Still. He refused to go back to being quirkless.
To this day, nightmares haunted his every night, memories of the constant abuse from children and adults alike. Memories of the muzzles and chains and collars they had forced him into, Memories of the sticks and fists and whips and belts they used to hurt him. Memories of the cupboards and crates and closets they shoved him into. Memories of starving and screaming and crying.
That had all ended the moment he got a quirk. He couldn’t go back now. Couldn’t go back to that constant suffering, even if he wasn’t good enough to be All Might's successor, even if he was a failure, even if no one would ever want him, quirk or no, he couldn’t go back to being quirkless. Not now. Not now that he knew what it was like to be free, to have a quirk. Not now that he knew what it felt like to be able to walk into a cafe and actually be served and not chased out for fear of his quirklessness contaminating everyone. He couldn't go through that again. Not ever again.
Here, despite having hated him for months, despite having tried to kill him on a multitude of occasions, Dabi was holding Izuku upright, murmuring soothing words. Izuku couldn’t help but slip into that comfort completely.
He was vaguely aware of them moving, though he didn't remember the walk. He didn't recall much after the door was opened either, just a faint memory of hiding behind Dabi like a small child behind a mother who actually cared, a mother who didn't beat him senseless for daring to hope, a mother Izuku did not know. He couldn’t remember what was said to allow him to enter the dark building, couldn’t recall any of the faces that were there, couldn’t bring up anything real or solid about pretty much anything.
Some part of him was aware he didn't leave the room Dabi had guided him to for days – or maybe weeks – though he wasn’t sure if that was because the door was locked or if he had just been to his staring emptily at the wall in front of him, cataloguing everything he had ever done in an attempt to decipher what he could have done to make All Might believe in him.
---
Dabi hated this, hated how empty the kid was, especially with how full of life he had been in all their fights previously. Getting him to eat and drink was a struggle, getting him to speak was near impossible. At most he could get the boy to look at him, to nod or shake his head at some easy questions. Toga hadn't gotten anything out of him either despite her desperate attempts. Spinner, Compress and Twice had all failed to draw the kid out of his shell. Even Shigaraki, who, though he denied it, spent as much time with the kid as Dabi did, hadn't managed anything.
For a long time, Dabi feared whatever had broken in the kid wouldn't ever be glued back together, but slowly, over time, they managed to piece together bits of the story from whispered words or nightmare fuelled mumblings or sobbing pleads.
Honestly, it was almost magical the way a group of seemingly heartless villains rallied around the kid, all filled with an overwhelming urge to protect him. Their fights were filled with far more rage, a desperate rampaging urge to destroy All Might, to make him pay for how he had broken the kid they had grown to love.
Izuku never left their base, never ventured out on his own, never joined the fights, and no one expected him to. They all wished he would come back to himself a little more, all hated how he seemed to only exist, not live. He would follow numbly behind one or another of them, silently, always not quite there, always twitchy yet numb, an unmovable force that simply trailed after whoever he had chosen that day.