Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kazue hurt, but he kept running. Past buildings and people and smells and everything.

He didn’t really know what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to find help.

And fast.

Hurry, hurry, faster, faster!

He glanced up, but the faces around him were blank, empty, meaningless. The smells were worse. All he could smell was undeniably alpha.

Not everyone here could be an alpha, right? Someone here had to help them, right?? Someone, anyone...!

But all he could smell were the alphas, could see their bared fangs, could hear their angry growls.

No. None of them could help them. None of them would. They’d only hurt them more. He had to find someone else. Anyone would do. Just please, find anyone who could save his mom!

He spun a corner quickly, crashed immediately into something that had him falling to the ground, hands burning, knees scrapped, tears filling his eyes. He opened his mouth and a sob slipped out, a new scent filling his senses, dragging over his tongue as he gasped for breath.

Alpha.

He went completely rigid as a shadow fell over him.

“Hey.”

No, no.

Someone was reaching for him. All he could smell was that scent. Overpowering, overwhelming. Undeniably dangerous.

He sniffled, but bore his teeth, let a little growl out, curled up to defend himself in any way he could, still sobbed when he saw the hand raised over him.

That hand hesitated, a moment, a little gasping breath, then withdrew. Instead of a hand, he saw a face, a bit of a scowl, red eyes glaring down at him, blond hair a mess atop his head.

Kazue stared up at the man, but could only think one thing. Alpha.

He growled again, watched carefully as the alpha raised an eyebrow, his scowl twisting into a bit of a smirk. “You got spunk, pup. Where’s your parents?”

His mom.

His snarl fell away as he sobbed. The alpha frowned deeply but before he reached for Kazue again, another voice cut through the noise of the city streets, all the hair rising up on Kazue’s body as another shadow fell over him, a second person crouching next to him. Immediately, he could smell this man wasn’t an alpha. His scent was softer, faint. A beta.

Without thinking, he threw himself at the beta, gasping out in relief, clinging to him.

“Whoa there, little buddy,” the beta caught Kazue, held him tightly. “What’s wrong? What did you do?”

The second accusation was thrown at the alpha, who huffed. “Nothing! I found him like this.”

“Hmm,” the beta ran his hand through Kazue’s hair. It was dirty. He felt the beta’s fingers catch in several knots. Knots his mom would have brushed out long before, if only…. “It’s okay, buddy. We’re heroes! I’m Red Riot and this is Ground Zero!”

Kazue froze. He almost couldn’t believe it. When he looked up, he noticed first the beta had a shock of red hair styled atop his hair, his teeth strangely pointed for a beta, though his smile was kind and warm. It reminded him of his mom’s for some reason. But he also noticed the costumes both the beta and the alpha wore, strange outfits that he hadn’t noticed before, something only heroes would wear out in public.

If they really were heroes, then…!

“My mom!” He cried, twisting his fists on the scrap of fabric he could grasp. He felt tears dripping down his face, but he couldn’t stop crying. He just sobbed, looking desperately between the two heroes, who stared down at him, curious, cautious, confused. “Please! You have to save my mom!”

The air around them shifted almost immediately. The alpha stood, glanced around as if he could spot where the trouble was while the beta tightened his arms around Kazue. “Where’s your mom? What happened?”

“An alpha,” Kazue gasped, shook his head, tried not to remember, “he… he’s hurting my mom! Please! Please, help my mom!”

Red Riot smiled softly at him, stood, picked him up. Beside him, the alpha let out a growl, still glaring around the streets. “Tell us where to go,” he demanded, Kazue huddling closer to the beta at the increasing amount of aggressive scent in the air.

The beta cleared his throat, the alpha casting a snarl at him, though the scent decreased slightly. “What’s your name?”

Kazue hiccupped. “Kazue.”

Red Riot smiled brighter. “Kazue. We’re going to save your mom, all right? But you have to tell us where she is.”

Even if he wanted to believe they were heroes, that they could save his mom, he glanced at the alpha untrustingly. What if this alpha hurt his mom too? What would he do then?

But, if there was even a chance at saving his mom…!

He pointed back down the street. “There! There’s a building….”

“All right,” the alpha snarled, but somehow, he was smiling. “Just watch, pup. I’m going to blow that stupid alpha to smithereens!”

- - -

Katsuki relished the idea of putting some shitty alpha in his place. If what this kid was saying was true, then his mom needed help. A quick sniff of him let Katsuki know his mom was probably an omega, the sweet smell lingering underneath his soft pup-scent. Unfortunately, there were still alphas out there that believed omegas were only good for meeting their own needs, for bending to their will. Alphas like that pissed Katsuki off. He thoroughly enjoyed grinding them into the dirt. Especially alphas who hurt pups as well. He hadn’t missed the burns on the pup’s hands, nor the scabs on his arm and the bruises on his body. He wondered briefly if the pup had tried to defend his omega only to have the alpha beat him away or if the alpha had attacked him to draw the omega in.

Either way, it was unforgivable. And Katsuki was going to make sure this alpha got the message.

Once the pup pointed the way, both he and Kirishima ran to follow his lead. They didn’t know what kind of condition his mom was in, just how hurt she was. The pup wasn’t all that talkative, nor did they really want to press him for just what was happening to her. All they really needed to know was she was in danger. No omega would allow their pup to be hurt or to run away without something getting in their way. So she had to be really hurt. And chances were the alpha was still with her. They had to get to her before the alpha could harm her anymore.

A sharp increase in the pup’s distressed scent made both Katsuki and Kirishima stop before a seemingly abandoned building tucked partly into a dark alley, a perfect place for a scummy alpha to steal an omega away. It was almost too cliché for Katsuki to believe, but one glance at the terrified look on the pup’s face told him all he needed to know.

The front door lay slightly skewed on its hinges, scorch marks along it. So the alpha might have a fire Quirk. Something Katsuki could handle easily.

“Stay with the pup,” he said over his shoulder, a smiling snarl rising along his face.

Kirishima glanced up and down the building’s half-rotten exterior. “You’re not going in there alone,” he said flatly.

Katsuki scoffed. “Call backup if you’re so worried. But you can’t bring the pup into a fight, we can’t leave him alone, and he’s obviously scared of alphas at the moment, so you have to be the one who stays with him.”

Kirishima bit at his lip, his mind clearly racing. No doubt he knew Katsuki was right, but was trying to think of an argument to make. The fact was, they didn’t have time for that. “We can’t wait any longer. That alpha could be killing the omega,” he paused, catching a horrified look on the pup’s face. A little twist of guild touched Katsuki’s chest, so he turned away. “We have to save her. Now.”

When he took a step forward, Kirishima growled, but there was nothing behind it. He was only a beta, so his growl was only a sound. It didn’t mean anything. Not to someone like Katsuki. The alpha glared over his shoulder, challenging Kirishima to prove him wrong.

The beta held his ground for several seconds, teeth gnashed in a silent snarl. But even he knew they were wasting time. His body relaxed and he sighed deeply. “If you need help, call me. And I’m calling in backup!”

“Do that,” Katsuki smirked. “But don’t worry. I won’t need it.” He flexed his fingers, felt them warming up. This time, he made sure to turn away from the pup before snarling, taking his first step into the dark building. Faintly, he heard Kirishima calling for help over the communication device in his ear. Their call was responded to immediately. Closest heroes were Iida, because of course, and Todoroki, because of course.

Still, Katsuki wouldn’t need them. He’d put this alpha down himself, rescue the omega, bring her back to her pup. He’d win the day without any other help needed. And he’d get to put a shitty alpha in their place in the process.

Explosions popped along his palm as he made his way through the building.

It was a dirty, nasty place. The outside had shown its abandonment well enough, but the inside was just plain disgusting. Nothing living should have been inside that place. Katsuki took his steps carefully, not convinced the floor was going to hold his weight. Each step sent up a shriek of protest and threatening snaps of breaking floorboards. Even so, Katsuki kept moving forward.

He paused at the center of the first room, sniffed the air experimentally. Even with the smell of rot and decay perforating the building, he was surprised by the scent. Surprised he hadn’t noticed it earlier.

The entire building reeked of distressed omega. Just underneath it, he could detect the faint odor of alpha as well, but overwhelmingly, he could smell the fresh terror of a hurt omega. It was easy enough to follow that smell, to hurry to find where she was. The building rumbled as if to warn him away, but Katsuki rushed forward, throwing caution to the wind.

There was only one closed door in the entire building. Not very subtle, the alpha thought, approaching it carefully. He knew he was wearing scent blockers, but he also knew you couldn’t erase a scent completely. And so, he let his scent pour from him, aggressive, challenging. He’d meet this damn alpha with a storm of dominance, tear him down before he even got his hands on him.

He’d make this shitty alpha pay.

Katsuki raised his foot, kicked the door with his heel, letting his body fall forward, feet planted, hands reaching outward, explosions bubbling at his fingertips, ready to confront whatever may lie beyond the door.

What he was met with was not an enraged alpha. Not at first. What he was struck with first was the sickening scent of the distressed omega, a cry of fear and panic and desperation in the smell, along with the revolting smell of lust and sex. He didn’t need to see anything to know exactly what had happened in that room.

The scent alone had his hands shaking, his snarl deepening. He cast a glance around the room, still saw no sign of the alpha. No, in fact, the scent of the alpha was clearly faded. Katsuki let out a growl, realizing very suddenly that the alpha was, in fact, already gone. He must have taken off when he realized the pup had gotten away.

His growl was met with a small noise, what might have been a whimper, but wasn’t quite that.

Slowly, Katsuki stood a little straight, raised his hand, letting the explosions pop in his hand. Light flashed briefly through the room, illuminating a mattress in the middle of the dirty room. On that mattress, a body was laid, unmoving. Katsuki only needed a glance to know what it would be.

He was thankful he’d heard the omega’s whimper, if only for the confirmation she was still alive. He pressed his hand to his communication piece, saying quickly, “Omega located. No sign of the alpha yet.”

Kirishima quickly came back over the coms, “Is she okay?”

“No. Get an ambulance here, quick.” He heard a snort sound from Kirishima, either a growl or a snort, cut off quickly. He didn’t have time to think about the beta, nor even the pup he was holding in his arms. Instead, Katsuki carefully stepped forward. The omega clearly needed help, but after all she’d just gone through, he knew a strange alpha approaching her might scare her.

“Hey,” he called, trying to lower his voice, reigning in his scent as much as he could, “it’s all right now. I’m a hero. Help is coming.”

In the darkness, he didn’t see the omega move. He paused, reached into his pocket for a glow stick. He often carried several for situations such as this. His explosions provided temporary flashes of light but were otherwise trash at lighting a room, and he hated having to hold a flashlight. Instead, he’d found being able to just snap and throw glow sticks around a room to be quite efficient.

There was moment when he was reaching for the glow stick, when he was holding it, when he was about to crack it, that he was aware of a hurt omega in the room with him, aware that there was a pup just outside with Kirishima who was also hurt and scared. It was a simple world, when Katsuki stood in that dark room, about to cast light on what was laying before him. Maybe it was a cruel one. But at least it was simple.

As soon as the glow stick cracked, a familiar green light illuminated the dirty, dingey room, and the omega laying unmoving on the mattress at his feet.

He first noticed that the omega was, in fact, not a female. Male omegas were rare, and male omegas with pups were even rarer, but they weren’t unheard of. So although that was a bit of a surprise, it didn’t shock Katsuki too much.

What shocked him was the moment when he leaned in to the omega, to try to assess just how badly he was hurt, the moment he caught a whiff of the omega’s true scent, the moment he saw the omega’s face, the moment when the world paused, when it held its breath, as Katsuki held his, his entire body seizing up.

The hurt omega laying on that mattress was one he knew. One he recognized. One that had him reeling in more ways than one.

The omega was Izuku Midoriya.

In that moment where the world had reduced to just the confines of that terrible, small, dirty room, when everything held its breath, when the only things that mattered were Katsuki and the omega laying before him, the alpha saw the world unspooling, his past, his present, what he had imagined his future may be.

He watched it all burn up.

Then, the world expanded, took a breath, and Katsuki sunk to his knees.

“Deku…?” He dared not call too loudly. He dared not move too suddenly.

But it didn’t matter.

Because one glance at Deku told him that the omega was unconscious. That, and he was tied up, unable to move even if he’d wanted to. Katsuki had to lean a little closer to see that the bindings seemed to be cloth, maybe torn bedsheets from the mattress. Strips were wrapped around his wrists and ankles, blood dark and brown staining the bindings. More cloth was tied in and around the omega’s mouth, muffling any cries for help he may have screamed. Although he was dressed, Katsuki could tell the clothes had been haphazardly thrown onto the omega’s body and they were torn and bloody. When he leaned a little closer, he saw blood at the omega’s chin, dried on his face, scratches and bruises all over his body, one of his eyes black and swollen, fingernails bloody and torn. More than one bite mark still bleeding on his neck.

He looked like he’d been through hell. And he wasn’t moving.

“Deku!” Katsuki didn’t really know why he tried calling his name again. As if just saying his name was going to make this all better. “Deku, it’s okay. I’m here.”

You’re too late.

There were parts of Katsuki that he hated. That voice was one of them.

You damn alpha. You’re far too late.

“Stop,” the word tripped from Katsuki’s mouth before he could stop it. He found himself crawled next to Deku, looking him up and down. He still wasn’t moving. Was he even breathing?

The thought had alarm racing like fire through Katsuki’s limbs. He nearly dropped the glow stick in his haste to press his fingers to Deku’s neck.

He held his breath, ground his teeth, dug deep into the omega’s throat.

And, there.

A pulse.

He was alive.

“Deku,” saying the omega’s name didn’t chance anything. But it was like a mantra to Katsuki, keeping him focused, keeping him from spiraling out of control.

You let some alpha do this to him.

He’s hurt because you didn’t protect him.

You abandoned him and this is what happened.

Something filled Katsuki’s throat, something that threatened to suffocate him, something that tasted a lot like guilt.

But he didn’t have time for that.

Deku was still hurt. He needed help. He needed to get away from this awful place.

“It’s all right,” he whispered, hated himself when his voice broke. “I’m here now. It’s going to be all right.”

He set the glow stick down, untied the cloth from his mouth, pulled a wad from behind his teeth. When he did, a little breath whispered from Deku’s lips, just a little more proof that he was alive.

He was alive.

As long as he was alive, Katsuki could fix this.

He could fix this.

“Oh, Deku,” he untied the omega’s hands and feet, laid him flat. A whine pulled from the omega’s lips when Katsuki moved him, the noise making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “It’s all right. It’ll be all right. I promise.”

Deku didn’t say anything to him. He just lay there, unmoving. Bleeding. Hurt.

Movement in the doorway, then the scent of alpha.

Katsuki saw red.

Without hesitating, his hand was raised, an explosion ripping through the air. A shout alerted him that whoever was there had been caught in the blast, but when the light faded, they were still there. A snarl of fury overcame him, Katsuki leaning over Deku’s body, letting his scent overpower the lingering presence of sex pheromones.

Protect. Kill. Save.

Katsuki snarled again, eying the doorway for more movement. A voice called to him, maybe said his name, but he only snarled again, hearing only his blood raging in his ear.

Going to hurt omega. Protect omega. Save omega.

Movement again. A blast lit from Katsuki’s palm as he sought to destroy the invading alpha. The building around him shook, so he leaned over Deku to protect him from the dust that fell from the roof. He hissed as the glow light began to dim, but didn’t dare to reach for another one, eyes only on the doorway, looking for something he could kill. Although his own aggressive scent was overpowering everything, he still sensed the presence of another alpha nearby, could feel them close, too close.

“I’ll kill you,” he hissed. “Come here so I can kill you.”

“Katsuki!”

The voice screeched in his ear, so loud, so sudden, that Katsuki actually flinched. He blinked, blinked again, saw his vision clear, felt his heart pounding against his ribcage, trying to break free.

“Katsuki! What are you doing?!”

Katsuki growled, didn’t move to answer over the coms. Instead, he glanced down at Deku, confirmed he was still there, he was still unmoving. His body shook at seeing the omega again. At realizing just how hurt he was.

He’s dying.

All the warmth in the room evaporated.

Deku was dying, right in front of him. And he was playing some dumb overprotective alpha, keeping help from reaching them.

Katsuki took in a breath, forced himself to hold it, closed his eyes, cleared his mind. Banished the voice that threatened to roar in his ear that he had to protect the omega and kill anyone who tried to approach.

Slowly, a little tremor shivering up his fingers, Katsuki pressed the coms piece in his ear. “Kirishima,” even his voice shook, “who’s here?”

“I told you! Todoroki and Iida were the nearest!”

Oh great. He’d tried to blast those two? He’d never hear the end of it.

“Send them in. I’m better.” He breathed in again.

“The hell was that, Kats?”

Katsuki dare not answer. Instead, he leaned away from Deku, crouched at his side as Iida and Todoroki carefully peered into the room. He glared at them and them at him, the three alphas sizing each other up, gauging just where they all stood. Katsuki didn’t need to say anything for the other two to understand his position. Even if they didn’t know why he was acting like this, they cast a glance down at the omega at his feet and understood he was not going to let them hurt him anymore. But he looked up at them and he knew they were there to help, that Todoroki was actually trained in administering first aid, that he could help save Deku. So he did nothing as the two slowly approached, as Todoroki crouched next to Deku and glanced him over. A thin line of anger and disgust pulled Todoroki’s lips tightly as he reached for his medical supplies. Katsuki watched him closely the entire time, hardly even blinking. But he didn’t trust himself to move. He didn’t even trust himself to speak. Neither Iida nor Todoroki asked anything more of him, simply organizing the scene around him.

Eventually, paramedics arrived. Todoroki explained what he could see, fractured arm, possible fractured ribs, multiple contusions and lacerations, a broken tooth, broken nose, the list went on and on. Katsuki listened, tired not to imagine Deku going through all that pain, felt himself growing hot again as he was forced to face all the horrible things done to the omega.

When the paramedics began packing him up to transport him, the omega let out a slow whine of pain that had Katsuki growling in fury. The paramedics gave the briefest of pauses before Iida was there, putting a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, a command in his fingers, a warning in his eyes. Katsuki glared back, missed when the paramedics left the room with Deku.

Without thinking, he followed them, followed the lingering scent of the distressed omega. He was met with the sudden cry of the pup, still in Kirishima’s arms, the paramedics trying to look him over as well. Kirishima had turned him away when the paramedics brought Deku out, but he couldn’t have missed the smell of his omega. Just how much of that had he seen? How long had that alpha tortured them?

As the paramedics swarmed around the pup, Katsuki stared helplessly at him, felt the world stilling again as he realized this little pup was Deku’s. That he was a part of Deku. A part of Deku, and a part of someone else.

Who was it? Who had Deku settled down with? He hoped someone who treated him well. Would they call next of kin and find a worried, protective alpha waiting to hear from his missing mate? Would Katsuki have to face him? Would he have to realize just another thing he’d been too late at?

He didn’t want to imagine what was lying ahead of him. Instead, he stared at the pup, taking him in, seeing all the parts of him that were Deku. He had Deku’s little nose, his chubby cheeks, his freckles. But there was something else. The blond hair, the watery red eyes, the sharp chin.

The ground felt a little unsteady as Katsuki stared at the pup.

How long had it been? Since he’d seen Deku? Five years? How old was this pup?

He was walking, talking, able to hold coherent conversations, aware of his surroundings, but he didn’t seem capable of complex assumptions yet. His world was still very black and white. So, how old would he be?

If Katsuki thought four years old, was that because of what he knew of four-years-olds or because of what he knew had happened almost five years ago?

Cautiously, hardly daring to believe it, Katsuki sniffed the air, trying to catch a whiff of the pup. Mostly, he could still smell Deku’s distress, felt it twisting in his gut, but he also smelled something else. The pup’s distress had first called Katsuki to something being wrong when he had crashed into his side. He hadn’t given it much thought beyond realizing something was wrong. But now, he took it in, he really thought about what he smelled.

It was slightly sweet, a bit milky, as all pups were, but there was something spicy underneath. Like cinnamon, burning sugar, fire and heat. Deku had always smelled like summer to Katsuki, all heat and warmth, and he knew his Quirk meant he always smelled a bit sweeter than most alphas, though there was an undeniable kick to his smell, like roasting chiles. When Katsuki took in this pup’s scent, he smelled what someone conceivably would get when crossing his and Deku’s scent.

Maybe he was just hoping. Maybe he was just dreading. Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn’t. But Katsuki knew. Instincts, logic, whatever he wanted to chalk it up to.

This little pup, this traumatized, scared, hurt, little, tiny pup, was Deku’s pup, but he was also Katsuki’s pup.

Katsuki didn’t know how the entire world could revolve around this one moment. But he’d felt it stop more than once in those few minutes. How had it only been a few minutes?

In just those few minutes, everything had changed. He knew. He knew….

He felt it in his stomach, which was twisted into such tight knots he thought he might be sick. He felt it in the coldness that swept through him, stealing his strength, making his knees shiver and his hands tremble. He felt it in the sudden realization that he had made the biggest mistake he could have ever made, and he was facing the consequences of that decisions.

This is your fault.

And he knew it was.

This was all his fault.

Chapter Text

As the ambulance screeched down the road, Iida, Todoroki, and Kirishima immediately crowded around him. They all began talking, or shouting, or interrogating him, but he simply walked past them, ignored them.

“And where do you think you’re going?!” Iida stomped after him.

“To the hospital.” How long did he have until the next train? Could he use his Quirk to get to the hospital faster? With how much his hands were shaking, that probably wasn’t a good idea.

“The hospital? Why? Bakugo, you can’t just—”

Katsuki spun on Iida, set his teeth, and growled, deep and low. A warning. Iida paused, bristling. Strictly speaking, Iida was the pack leader. He was number one alpha. Even Katsuki wasn’t above him. But that didn’t mean Katsuki had to worship the fucking ground he walked on. Nor would he.

So he glared Iida down harshly, turned away when the other alpha said nothing.

“Are you not going to explain?” Todoroki called after him.

“Not only do I want an explanation,” Iida was very clearly trying not to hiss at him, “I demand you return to the packhouse immediately. You’re not yourself, Bakugo.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Katsuki growled, annoyed when the three kept at his heels.

“C’mon, man,” at least Kirishima wasn’t demanding things of him. “What was that anyway? You know that omega?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki spat. “I’ve known that omega for a long time and that pup is my pup.”

That got the three to shut up.

In the brief moment where shock had them all standing around with dumb looks on their faces, Katuski blasted away from the ground, up into the sky and toward the hospital. Behind him, he heard Iida shouting, probably at him, but he didn’t care. Instead, he looked out over the city, carved out the best path to the hospital, to Deku, to his lonely, scared pup.

- - -

The closest hospital wasn’t very far away, but it still took a lot longer than he would have liked for Katsuki to arrive. Upon bursting through the front doors, he immediately demanded an update on Deku and Kazue, much to the shock and surprise of the hospital staff. They were probably used to alpha outbursts, but they probably weren’t as used to pro heroes kicking down their doors demanding information on people they’d just saved. There was always a professional line kept between hero and victim. Katsuki had maintained that line for years now, ever since graduating high school. He’d never let it get personal.

But this time was different.

Even if the staff didn’t quite understand that, they seemed to grasp that he was unwilling to compromise. Still, they politely and patiently told him that he wasn’t allowed any information on the two.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we have to protect the privacy of our patients,” the nurse at the front desk said tersely.

But I’m their alpha! Katsuki wanted to scream. The words kept jumping to his tongue only for him to swallow them back, forcing them to stay behind grit teeth and a deep, ugly snarl.

As much as Katsuki wanted to lose control, wanted to rage and scream and destroy something, he took in a breath, made himself close his eyes and calm down. In the dark, he only could see Deku’s unmoving body, could hear his whimper of pain, the cries of his pup when he realized his mom was being taken away.

He opened his eyes, glared down at the nurse, who was very still. But she wasn’t saying anything. And Katsuki knew she wasn’t going to say anything. Somehow, he’d have to convince her, have to make her let him see his child.

Clumsy words were forming together when a voice called out to them, “It’s okay. He’s with me.”

Even if Katsuki knew the voice, he still felt the bite of a scowl deepen his lips as he turned over his shoulder and stood face to face the newest detective on the force, Shohei Ito. This fresh-faced alpha was quickly climbing the ranks, forming deep and strong bonds with the hero community in order to better serve the city, or so he claimed. He was always happy, always upbeat. And he pissed Katsuki off for no particular reason. In return, he’d grown a strange attachment to Katsuki, seemingly amused by his antics. He could be a powerful ally to have. But again, he pissed Katsuki off.

The detective, seemingly unaware of this, smiled at the hero. “Good to see you, Ground Zero. Excellent work today.”

“The scum alpha who did this got away,” Katuski hissed between clenched teeth.

The detective shrugged, adjusted his watch on his wrist. “Maybe, but you saved two lives with your intervention. In my book, that’s a success, don’t you think?”

Of course he did. But he still wanted to crush this damn alpha for what he’d done.

He didn’t voice this, stayed quiet as the detective introduced himself to the nurse and explained he was there to oversee the evaluation of one Kazue Midoriya. At his name, Katsuki felt his heart plunge into his toes. Oh, yeah. He hadn’t thought about the fact that the pup would have Deku’s name. It was traditional anyway for the pup to take the mother’s name, but there was something final about it. A confirmation of everything he had already known, pieces that lined up perfectly with what he knew to be true.

The sick feeling returned. Katsuki desperately wanted to punch something.

“C’mon,” Ito called Katsuki away from his thoughts, realizing that a nurse was trying to lead them down a hallway. The detective paused only briefly to let Katsuki catch up before he resumed walking next to her. “How is the pup doing?”

“Minor bumps and bruises only,” the nurse said, keeping a clear distance between herself and the angry hero. Katsuki hadn’t failed to notice that Ito had purposefully placed himself between him and the nurse. As if they were actually afraid he was going to do something stupid. “He had minor burns on his palms and the most severe injury he had was a bite.”

Katsuki almost stopped dead in his tracks. “A bite?” He tried to think back, but he hadn’t noticed any wounds on Kazue’s neck or throat. Then again, he had noticed Deku’s neck marked up disgustingly well.

The nurse shook her head. “Not a claiming mark. He was bitten on the arm.”

On the arm? This was making even less sense. Why had someone bitten his pup on the arm??

As if reading the confusion right from his silence, Ito said, “It might have been just a threat. Sometimes alphas are known to bite as a way to keep someone under their control.”

Katsuki growled at the implication, felt his teeth grinding along his jaw. Someone had dominated his pup by biting him.

He was going to kill this bastard alpha.

“What about Deku?”

The nurse blinked at him. Ito raised an eyebrow as well, Katsuki cursing the little arch it made on his face.

“Midoriya,” he corrected quickly, shaking his head. The name was strange rolling off his tongue. He had never really called Deku that before, but it had been five years since he’d seen the omega. Things changed.

He would have given anything to not see them change this drastically.

With a little nod of her head, the nurse flipped to another section of her clipboard. “I’m afraid Midoriya is much worse off.” Even if he knew that, hearing a medical professional tell him that made Katsuki’s blood boil. He clenched his fists, reminded himself to keep his scent in check. Even with scent blockers on, he could still rile up the patients around him if he became too angry. He did, however, notice the nurse carefully put a little more distance between herself and him nonetheless. “Multiple fractures, a concussion, internal bleeding, a collapsed lung. He’s lucky to be alive.”

What she didn’t say, but what Katsuki clearly heard, was that Deku would be lucky if he survived. Those were serious injuries, especially the collapsed lung. If he’d been left for much longer, he wouldn’t have made it. If Kazue hadn’t run into the heroes, if Katsuki had been just a little later, then the alpha would have inevitably killed him.

Katsuki clenched his hands tighter, but still felt little pops of his Quirk along his palm. If the nurse noticed, she didn’t react. Ito, however, definitely noticed, his other eyebrow arching high into his hairline. Katsuki had a sudden and powerful urge to bite them off, but the nurse continued speaking, cutting into his seething.

“He’s currently in surgery. We’ll know more once he gets out.”

“I want to know as soon as you get any updates.” Katsuki growled.

The nurse glanced at him, up and down, then to Ito, who shrugged. “Very well.” She paused at an empty room, checked the chart that hung just outside of it. “It looks like the pup has already been taken for psychiatric evaluation. Here. This way.”

She led them, crisp and quiet, down the hospital’s very white and sterile hallways. Katsuki knew he was distracted by all that had happened, but he was surprised when Ito cleared his throat, called his attention. The detective was still smiling at him knowingly, and he didn’t care for it one bit.

“You, uh, know this omega?”

A muscle flinched in Katsuki’s face. He glared forward, into the back of the nurse. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“Must have been tough seeing him in that condition.”

To this, Katsuki had nothing to say.

Taking the hint, Ito didn’t say anything else until the nurse stopped before an unsuspecting door and gestured them inside.

“This is only an observation room. They won’t be able to hear you from in here,” she explained as Katsuki and Ito stepped inside.

As soon as he entered the room, Katsuki tensed, catching the smell of his pup nearby. Feeling wild and jittery, he searched for where his pup was, found him on the other side of a mirrored window, Katsuki and Ito looking into a brightly painted room filled with toys. Kazue sat at the small table in the center of the room, several toys placed before him like offerings. He didn’t look at any of them, staring into his lap with fat tears still running silently down his face. A woman sat across from him, smiling and talking softly to him. Katsuki sniffed the air, trying to get a whiff of her, but all his focus was on Kazue’s smell, unable to discern anything else in the air, not even the detective’s alpha smell standing right next to him. He assumed she had to have been either a beta or an omega, as alphas tended to be too aggressive to be good psychiatrists, and Kazue wasn’t reacting as badly to her as he had to the smell of alpha earlier.

Or maybe he was just reacting badly to me.

Katsuki ground his teeth together, knew that wasn’t true. If anything, his scent would calm the pup. A pup was instinctually calmed by the scent of either of their parents, though they were often soothed more by the scent of their mother. Still, any pup could be comforted with their father’s scent as well. Even Katsuki, who found his parents both more annoying than anything else sometimes, knew that just a whiff of their calming scent could settle him instantly. Theirs was the only scent he knew that could sooth him.

Well… there was one other scent.

Deku had always had that effect on him too, though he’d done his best to reject it in the past.

So he knew that with how upset the pup was, only his scent or Deku’s could calm him now. With Deku out of commission for the time being, that meant he was the only one who could sooth Kazue. It took everything in Katsuki not to rush into the room, scoop up the pup, and comfort him as best he could. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Not now.

Plus, he wanted to know what the psychiatrist would find. What Kazue would say? What terrible things the pup had borne witness to? Just what exactly had happened to Deku and his pup?

So he stayed still and silent, listening as the psychiatrist tried to get Kazue to speak, tried to invite him to engage with any of the toys. Nothing worked. Kazue remained mute and unmoving, save for the occasional flinch of a hiccup or drop of a tear.

That only changed when someone else entered the room via a second entrance, one not connected to the viewing room Katsuki and Ito were standing in. The way Kazue instantly tensed and stared up at the man with huge, watery eyes pulled Katsuki a little, him making the mistake of leaning forward, letting a little of his own distress leak out at seeing his pup upset. Beside him, Ito turned, taken aback by his reaction, but Katsuki pulled himself together with a deep breath, letting it out in a growl as the man, undoubtably an alpha, handed something to the woman, before leaving.

Once he was gone, she turned to Kazue and smiled softly. “Here. Do you miss your omega?”

She offered Kazue what the man had given her. A blanket. Kazue glared suspiciously at it, but a little twitch of his nose and his sudden, desperate grab for the cloth led Katsuki to believe it had been rubbed on Deku’s scent gland. Even if his scent was still probably a little sour with distress, the pup buried his face in the material, the tension rolling off of him as the last few, large tears trailed down his face.

“It’s all right now,” the psychiatrist purred, putting a hand gently on the pup’s shoulder. “Your mom’s being taken good care of. You’re both safe here.”

Kazue peered at her from over the blanket. “Alphas.” He hissed.

“What about alphas?” It was the first word Kazue had said since Katuski had arrived, and the psychiatrist worked quickly to keep him talking.

The little pup sniffled, rubbed his face in his mother’s scent. “There’s alphas here.”

“There are. Alphas work in every department in this hospital. Isn’t that neat?”

Again, the pup buried himself in the blanket. After several silent seconds, he peered up at the psychiatrist, gauging her with untrusting red eyes. Katsuki felt a bit of a twist in his stomach as he watched the pup. The more he looked, the more he could pick out about him that looked so much like himself, and so much like Deku.

“An alpha hurt my mom,” the pup mumbled.

The psychiatrist nodded slowly. “I know, sweetheart. Did you see the alpha?”

Kazue nodded mutely.

“Do you remember what he looked like?”

The pup curled into the blanket a little.

The psychiatrist waited, then said, “If you tell me what the alpha looked like, then I can tell the police. They can find the alpha then and make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone anymore.”

At this, Kazue gazed up at the psychiatrist, watery eyed and sniffled. Slowly, the psychiatrist pulled out some details about the alpha: he was big, though relatively speaking that didn’t mean much when the pup said it, had dark hair, angry eyes, and big, jagged teeth. The jagged teeth was the only interesting detail to Katsuki. Did he have jagged teeth because Kazue had seen him as a monster, had seen him use those teeth to hurt Deku, or because he actually had jagged teeth? Beside him, Ito was scribbling furiously in his notebook as the pup talked, never once glancing up from it.

He only stopped when Kazue sniffled and muttered, “He hurt my mom.” He said it pitifully, as if it were something he still couldn’t believe.

The psychiatrist hummed. “I know, sweetheart.” She paused, smiled, leaned forward a little. “Have you lived with an alpha before?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Your mom didn’t have an alpha to help him?”

The pup shook his head, glared at the table.

Beside Katsuki, Ito hummed. “So it’s not someone Midoriya had around his home or the pup. Maybe it was an alpha he had just started seeing? Or maybe just stopped seeing?”

Katsuki was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he almost missed what Ito was saying. His pup’s words had warmed a small part of his brain that he tried so hard not to listen to. That Deku didn’t have an alpha, that he was available. It was sick of him to be thinking of that when Deku was laying on a surgical table somewhere in that very hospital because of the actions of an alpha.

Ito’s words did worm their way through the fog of his alpha brain though, causing Katsuki to think. It would make sense if this was the work of a jealous alpha. Maybe Deku had dumped him and he’d reacted badly to the breakup. But even if Kazue had never seen the alpha, he would have recognized his scent if Deku had been seeing him. Instead, Kazue spoke of the alpha as if he were a complete stranger, as if he were every single unknown alpha walking the city streets.

So, a random attack? Those did happen too, but not very often. The most common cases were omegas going into heat early and alphas taking advantage. But Deku hadn’t smelled of heat pheromones, which he would have even with how distressed he was. What other reason could there have been?

Maybe this is just some sick freak. Some moron who wanted what he wanted and took it without caring about the consequences.

But even that didn’t make sense. The attack on Deku could be explained away somewhat easily on its own; alphas attacked omegas every now and then. It was an unfortunate part of life, a part everyone seemed to just accept, as sick as it was. But one thing was different about this attack, one thing that set this apart from most of the other omega attacks Katsuki had seen: Kazue. It was very, very rare for alphas to take any interest in any pups that may be with the omega at the time of the attack. If anything, Katsuki had seen alphas kill the pups, some ancient, horrific tradition having to do with taking the place of an old alpha, getting rid of the last alpha’s seed. But typically, if there was a pup around, they were abandoned or left alone. Kazue had been bitten. There was something very personal about that. Something very deliberate. Even after what the nurse had said, Katsuki couldn’t believe an alpha would bite a pup to display dominance. It just didn’t make sense.

The psychiatrist had continued trying to talk about alphas with Kazue, but the pup had buried himself deeply in the blanket and was refusing to say anything else. A corner of her lip pulled back as she stared down at the pup, thinking. Then, she pulled out some crayons and paper from her bag.

“Here. Do you want to draw with me?” She set the paper on the table between her and the pup, who immediately peeked out from the blanket to watch as she picked up a crayon and began drawing. He watched her closely for several moments, then cautiously set the blanket down and pawed for a crayon of his own, the psychiatrist pushing one to him.

They drew in silence for several minutes, Kazue scribbling contentedly while every now and then taking a sniff of the blanket in his lap. The psychiatrist watched him from the corner of her eye but otherwise didn’t say anything to him.

When she had finished, she set down her crayon and picked up her paper. “Here. I drew my family! See? There’s my alpha and my two pups.” Kazue evaluated her drawing with a critical eye, turning his chin away with a huff. It was a motion so familiar, so undeniably Katsuki that the alpha had to stop himself from grinning ear to ear. “What about you? What did you draw?”

Kazue picked up his drawing, showed her a crude drawing of two people. The green hair of the taller figure immediately signaled what he had drawn. “It’s my mom and me.”

“Oh I see! How beautiful!” The psychiatrist pulled out another piece of paper. “We both drew our families, so let’s draw something else together. Do you have any suggestions?” Kazue shrugged, rearranging his own blank piece of paper. The psychiatrist nodded. “I know. Let’s draw what we did today.”

Kazue’s face fell immediately, his fingers loose on his crayon. Instead, he picked up the blanket, pressing his nose into it. Even from beyond the window, Katsuki picked up on the renewed distress in the pup’s scent and he growled lowly. Again, Ito glanced at him, but this time, Katsuki didn’t reign himself in.

At the sour smell, the psychiatrist stopped, frowned. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Kazue sniffled. “I don’t want to draw anymore.”

“Okay. What do you want to do?”

“I want to see my mom!”

The psychiatrist tried to smile as gently as she could, reaching out to comfort him. Kazue flinched away from her and she retreated immediately, going back to drawing as if nothing had happened. “I know, sweetheart, but your omega is getting help from the doctors. As soon as he’s all better, then you can see him.”

Kazue sniffled. “The alpha hurt my mom,” he muttered weakly.

The psychiatrist nodded patiently. “I know, sweetheart.”

“He… he was so mean!” Kazue shook his head, sniffled. The psychiatrist didn’t move to comfort him again, but Katsuki was suddenly aware of her scent, calming, soothing, doing her best to care for the pup without making him uncomfortable. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be helping. Kazue only got a little better after burying his face in the blanket once more. “I… I tried to stop the alpha. But he was so mean! Why was he so mean?”

“You tried to stop him?” She was still calm, but there was a tightness to her voice that spoke to her alarm. Katsuki, too, felt a little pull in his chest as the pup nodded solemnly.

“Mom told the alpha to leave us alone. But he wouldn’t go away. He hurt my mom and he hurt me. Put me in a closet. I couldn’t see my mom, but I heard him crying.”

That was new. The alpha had thrown Kazue in a closet? Katsuki struggled to keep his fury under control as he contemplated what that meant, the detective beside him equally quick to begin making notes.

So the alpha had purposefully kidnapped them to that building, had set Kazue aside. For what? Leverage to use against Deku? But why? He’d tied up the omega, so what point was there in also keeping a hostage?

The only good news was, if Kazue was locked in a closet, he probably hadn’t witnessed any of the terrible things the alpha had done to Deku. He may have heard it from what the pup was saying, but at least he hadn’t seen it, at least they wouldn’t have to explain away the finer details of his attack. In the madness of all that had happened, it was a small thing to celebrate, though Katsuki wasn’t really in a celebrating mood.

He kept thinking back to why the alpha had taken Kazue, why had he attached Deku in the first place? It still wasn’t making sense. Katsuki glanced to see if Ito was making any headway, but the detective’s eyebrows were furrowed. They both turned their attention back to Kazue as he spoke again.

“He was so mean to my mom… he made my mom cry! And I couldn’t stop him.” The pup sobbed freely, didn’t stop the psychiatrist when she reached for him again, petting his hair and rubbing his tears away.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” she purred soothingly, trying to calm the little pup. “You did so well. You were so brave.”

“So! My mom still got hurt!” The pup gasped, stared up at the psychiatrist with huge, wide eyes. “Is… is my mom going to die?”

The woman paused. Smiled. She rubbed his tears away. “Your mother,” she said, very serious, very slow, “is going to be just as brave for you as you were for him. The doctors are going to do everything they can to save him, all right?”

“Promise?”

The psychiatrist smiled. “I promise,” she whispered, the pup whimpering softly until she ran her hand through his hair.

Ito suddenly spun his notebook closed. “All right. I think that’s enough.” He glanced at his watch, then tapped twice on the window, startling Kazue. The psychiatrist shot them a warning glare before quickly comforting the pup. Ito blinked, looked a bit ashamed at having startled the pup. He didn’t catch the murderous look Katsuki gave him.

“Some interesting things to think about. We’ll have to arrange for another appointment with a psychiatrist. See if we can’t get any more information about the alpha from him.” He sighed deeply, popped his collar. “Also have to call social services. I don’t think the hospital’s going to be willing to keep him for very long and it sounds like Midoriya’s going to be here for at least a few days.”

“Don’t bother.” One last time, Ito glanced curiously to Katsuki, turning fully to face him this time. Katsuki met him, glared harshly, though his attention was pulled when Kazue suddenly sniffled, trying to stifle a sob. “I’ll be taking him home.”

“You?” Ito had the gall to laugh. “What makes you think you’re qualified to take on a pup? Even if someone did let you take him?”

“Qualification has nothing to do with it. I’m taking him home.”

He felt rather than saw Ito approaching, so he wasn’t all that surprised when the other alpha suddenly had a hand pressed to the door, blocking Katsuki’s exit. Hero and detective stared each other down, Katsuki with a snarl, Ito with a barely-concealed annoyance.

“Bakugo,” the detective said sternly, “I know you’re not being serious.”

“You think I’m a joke or something?”

“You can’t just take a pup because you know his omega, because you think his omega’s pretty.”

Blood roared in Katsuki’s veins, in his ears. His palms popped. It took everything in him not to blow this idiot from his path. A deep breath wasn’t enough to calm him.

So he set a snarl to his lips, and he spat out, “He’s my pup!”

The annoyance flashed out of Ito’s eyes, shock dropping his hand from the door. Katsuki didn’t give him the chance to recover, shoving his way out into the hallway, stomping into a secondary exam room leading into the playroom where Kazue and the psychiatrist were still sitting. A doctor and the same nurse were muttering to each other over a clipboard, pausing when Katsuki slammed the door open.

Kazue was just a door away, his hurt, scared, little pup was only a block of wood away from him. He was tired of waiting to finally pick him up, to hold him, to tell him he would keep him safe.

But a hand stopped him once more from doing so. Katsuki didn’t stop the flood of alpha scent nor the snarl that split his lips. Ito didn’t let up, digging his fingers in.

“Bakugo,” the detective said, with a hint of a growl in his voice. “You aren’t taking that pup.”

“I already told you! He’s my pup!”

“What proof do you have of that? How can I know you’re not just saying that?”

“You really think I’m so low as to take a pup just because of their omega?!” He snapped his teeth at Ito’s hand, finally got the detective to get the hell off of him. “I’m Kazue Midoriya’s alpha. You can’t stop me from taking him home.”

He turned, saw a look from the doctor, the tightening of his lips, the narrowing of his eyes. When Katsuki stepped forward, the doctor blocked his path. “Please stop,” he said quietly. Katsuki growled in warning at him, but the doctor held his ground. “It would be detrimental for an unknown alpha to take him now. If you aren’t his alpha, then you would only harm him.”

“But I am his alpha!” Katsuki snapped. “How many times do I have to tell you people this?!”

“Prove it.”

The challenge had Katsuki’s hackles raising. He turned over his shoulder, glaring Ito down. The detective was unmoving, his feet set, as if ready for a fight.

“There’s no alpha listed on the birth certificate. So, give us proof you’re the pup’s alpha.”

It would have been easy to just strongarm his way out of this. To just knock over the doctor, the nurse, and this stupid wannabe arbiter of justice. But he knew that wasn’t going to help him in the end.

So he took a breath, ground his teeth until his jaw hurt. Then, he stood up a little straighter. “Give me one minute with Kazue. If I’m his alpha, then he’ll calm at my scent.”

“Alpha scents have only been distressing him,” the doctor said.

“Clearly.” Katsuki turned to face him, to face the door that led to his pup. He glared at it briefly, imagined what was just beyond it, before looking at the doctor. “You’ll known pretty immediately if I’m not his alpha, right? Just let me try.”

The doctor and nurse glanced at each other, then to Ito. The detective shook his head stubbornly, just as any dumb alpha would. “You don’t have to let him do anything. In fact, I’d advise against it.”

“Nobody asked your opinion,” Katsuki hissed over his shoulder.

“All right, that’s enough,” the doctor raised his hands. “There’s enough alpha pheromones in this room to scare anyone, especially that pup.” He glared down at Katsuki. Even though they were about the same height, he felt as if the doctor were scrutinizing him from some lofty height, from some peak he couldn’t reach.

He hated that feeling. But he knew that this doctor was the only thing in his way from his pup.

So he ground his teeth, waited.

It seemed to take a lifetime before the doctor finally closed his eyes, sighed heavily, and stepped to the side.

“If the pup doesn’t react favorably to you immediately, you have to leave. You won’t be permitted contact with him or his omega ever again.”

Katsuki scoffed, stepped forward, tried not to think that he didn’t really deserve to be in contact with either of them anyway. But he knew he could help them. He knew he could keep them safe, comfort them. Whatever small thing he could do to make up for letting this happen to them.

At the door, Katsuki took hold of the handle, took in another breath, let it out slowly, calmed his scent. The room was still swimming with the lingering smell of both his and Ito’s angry pheromones, so he knew when he opened the door, the pup would smell it. It was going to be a battle to calm him down.

But he had to try.

The door creaked when it opened.

Immediately, two pairs of eyes turned to him, the psychiatrist, surprised, his little pup, shocked. As soon as he realized who had walked into the room, Kazue paused, no doubt recognizing him from the scene of Deku’s rescue. But Kirishima wasn’t there to hold him and keep him calm now. Now, it was just the two of them.

“Excuse me?” The psychiatrist asked, sounding a little put off.

“You’re excused,” Katsuki said shortly, stepping past her to Kazue.

Although the pup had been examining him constantly, the moment Katsuki stepped toward him, he leaped to his feet and dashed into the corner of the room, hissing and snarling at him. Katsuki paused, patient, careful, letting off a little more of his scent. He cursed these damn scent blockers he had to wear. They must have been diluting his smell, muddying it enough that Kazue wasn’t reacting to it as he should.

“It’s all right,” he kept his voice low and soft, stepped toward the pup with his hands raised. “I won’t hurt you, Kazue.”

“Stay away!” The pup snarled, swiped at the air between them, tears gathering in his eyes again. “Get away from me!”

“Bakugo!” Ito’s voice broke through the room, made Katsuki growl. The detective was in the doorway, glancing between him and the pup. “That’s enough! You’re scaring him!”

Katsuki raised his lip in a silent snarl, abandoned the soft approach. He stepped to Kazue’s side, the pup snarling and hissing and still trying to defend himself. When Katsuki hooked his hands around the pup’s chest, Kazue immediately bit into his hand, hard. It was enough of a strange reaction that Katsuki paused, blinked in shock at the snarling pup still latched into his hand. But otherwise, he didn’t flinch, didn’t react as blood trailed down his fingers.

Instead, he pressed the pup to his heart, ran a hand through his hair, let his scent cover him. At first, Kazue just bit down a little harder, but suddenly, very suddenly, he let go, gave a little gasp. He was very still, clearly confused, maybe overwhelmed. But he didn’t snarl or growl. He just lay against Katsuki’s chest.

Katsuki cast a glance to those in the room, saw both Ito and the psychiatrist were staring, more than just a little stunned. In that moment, he could have snarled an I told you so, or told off Ito for doubting him, but Kazue’s hands suddenly fisted in his shirt and his nose nuzzled right into his neck, into his scent. A little sob escaped the pup, a shiver coming over his body.

Then, he fell like jelly in Katsuki’s arms, relaxed for the first time since they’d found him.

And it didn’t matter what Ito or anyone else thought. All that mattered was the pup in his arms, the little bundle of himself and Deku that was quietly sniffling right in his ear, that was hurt and scared and grieving for what had happened to him.

Katsuki didn’t say anything to anyone. He only bent to grab the blanket, smelled that Deku’s scent was indeed covering it, and tucked the cloth around the pup, Kazue shivering now that he was surrounded by both his alpha’s and omega’s scent.

Seeing his pup content, knowing there was nothing more he could do, Katsuki stepped from the room. Past the psychiatrist, the doctor, the nurse, Ito. None of them mattered anymore.

He carried the pup to the desk, checked him out, and headed for home.

Chapter Text

Before arriving at the packhouse, Katsuki swallowed his pride and called in a favor from Iida. The alpha didn’t ask questions then. But Katsuki knew that was coming. For now, he was only grateful that nobody put up a fuss about his request. Or if they did, that he wasn’t the one who had to deal with it.

Still, he was a bit apprehensive as he opened the door to the packhouse, awaiting a rush of people to greet them. Only silence met them. The faint smell of the pack surrounded him as Katsuki stepped inside, closed the door behind him. As much as he never would admit it, he did relax a little, warmed by the lingering presence of his pack. Here, he knew he was safe. Here, he knew he could care for his pup. Here, he knew he was home.

At the new scents, Kazue stirred quietly, dug himself into Katsuki’s neck, stilled, went back to sleeping. Katsuki stood for a moment, surveyed the vacant entryway, the quiet living room. The archway into the kitchen was empty. Whenever he cooked, it was usually crowded with his packmates, all vying to be the first to try a new recipe or just to get a small smell of what he was making. It was rare for an alpha to learn cooking skills. After all, it was typically an omega’s place to care for the pack. But Katsuki had found that providing nourishment for his pack was a small way he could give back to them, a small way to thank them for putting up with his crap. He knew he wasn’t easy to get along with. He knew it wasn’t easy living with him sometimes. But they accepted him for who he was. Making sure they were well fed and fed well was just his way of providing for the pack.

But today, the archway was empty and the kitchen was still. Remnants of food containers told Katsuki the pack had ordered in. He knew several of them had been out on patrol, maybe still were. On normal days, they liked to wait for most of the pack to get home before eating. What happened must have riled everyone up enough that sharing a meal together didn’t seem as important suddenly.

Or maybe he was just thinking about it too much.

Kazue pushed against Katsuki suddenly, whimpered. Katsuki adjusted the blanket around the pup, making sure to tuck it near his face. Deku’s scent wouldn’t last forever, but while it was still lingering on the cloth, it would provide some level of comfort to the pup. Best take advantage while they still had it.

Being careful, Katsuki pulled his boots off. It was unusual for him to be in costume for so long, to arrive at the packhouse still dressed as a hero. Long ago, Iida had established that the house would be the separating line between profession and domestic. Here, they weren’t heroes. They were packmates. Costumes had no place, nor were they typically allowed. Todoroki had, on more than one occasion, gotten an earful from Iida for arriving home after patrol still wearing his costume. Of course, there was no one there to reprimand Katsuki. Still, he felt a little growl biting at the edge of his jaw thinking about how he’d never once before arrived home still wearing his costume, that he’d been the last person in the pack to do so.

He wondered if, given the circumstances, Iida would care, and he hoped the other alpha would.

Once his boots were off, Katsuki grabbed them, marched immediately toward the staircase. Once upon a time, before everyone went and got mated, alpha rooms were on the second floor, left wing of the house. Katsuki, being the last unmated alpha left, still had his room there, now sharing the wing with a couple of the betas. His room was the first on the right. There wasn’t much ceremony to it usually. It was just his room. And yet, with a pup in his arms, knowing Deku was still laying on a surgical table somewhere, it felt wholly empty when he stepped inside. The air was stale and heavy. Katsuki knew it smelled like him here, overpoweringly so since his packmates rarely ever dare intrude in his space. Only Kirishima had ever really spent any length of time there. It was a place he knew Kazue would feel safe.

So it was a little surprising when the pup began squirming as Katsuki tossed his boots aside, making a mental note to put them away properly later.

Slowly, the pup’s eyes opened, gazing blearily up at Katsuki. They stared back at each other, silent, unmoving. Katsuki didn’t even think he was breathing.

Then, the pup buried himself in his neck once more, let out a little huff.

“Mommy?” He muttered, reached forward.

Katsuki pressed the blanket toward the pup, said nothing.

He turned to his hands, to the bracers and gloves still locked around them. It didn’t take him long to snap the shock-absorption bracers off, to peel the gloves away from his skin, tossing them into the corner with his boots. Once that was done, he brought his hands up to Kazue, a single fingertip pressing into the pup’s skin.

A shiver washed through Katsuki, warmth spreading from that little touch. It occurred to him that this was the first time he was touching his pup skin to skin, the first contact he’d had with Kazue without anything between them. Kazue was soft, a little squishy, a little warm. Slowly, Katsuki swept his hand into his hair, felt the dirt and tangles still there. Even so, he relished the feeling. He bathed in this moment with his pup, in the knowing he was in his arms, truly holding him for the very first time. This moment was a gift, a gift he didn’t deserve but was so, so awed to have. In return, Kazue didn’t react. Whether he understood the gravity of this moment or not, or if he felt anything or not, didn’t matter as much to Katsuki. What mattered was the beautiful, warm, swelling in his chest, the thought and realization that he was holding something so much more precious than anything else in this world could possibly be.

I will protect you, he promised, cursed himself when he trembled a little. I’ll do better. I will. I promise. And I’ll make sure nothing bad ever happens again.

Good alpha. Protect pup. Provide for pup.

It was too late, he knew, much too late, to be a good alpha. But he could try. Not to atone. But just to apologize, one day at a time. He’d keep apologizing for the rest of his life, for missing this, for not giving Kazue the comfort and security and warmth he should have had. And he’d never stop apologizing for allowing what happened to Deku. He’d be begging forgiveness for that until the end of time.

At least now, he could start. He could begin somewhere, on that day, with these little things. With a warm touch, a comforting scent, a safe home. It wasn’t much. But it was something.

A starting line. A place to begin anew.

Carefully, he went around the room, picked up a couple things he thought might be helpful. A hoodie he often wore around the packhouse, a blanket he’d been known to sleep with on particularly cold nights, the broken collar off one of his hero costumes he’d been meaning to repair. Anything he could grab that was saturated in his scent. Although Kazue was a bit too young to have presented, Katsuki knew that pups would still nest when particularly distressed, and even if he didn’t know the ins and outs of nesting, he knew enough to realize these would be good materials to use. He tossed everything onto his bed, shifted his grip on Kazue, and left the room.

A door sharply closing nearby alerted Katsuki to the fact that his pack was, indeed, there, waiting. But for now, they stayed away, as much as they could. And he knew just how hard that would be for some of them. Still, he didn’t acknowledge the door closing nor the person who would have caused it, turning instead toward the baths.

When he opened the door, he was a bit surprised to find the room filled with steam, the fresh scent of lavender in the air. Not from his packmates. It was one of those aromatherapy balls that Yaoyorozu was always going on and on about. Someone had placed it on a small plate, left it in just a little pool of water, letting the lavender scent fill the air. Katsuki had to admit, it did smell nice, but he wasn’t sold on how effective such things could be. Scents not associated with a person always put him a little on edge. But that was more of an alpha thing, he’d been told. The omegas and betas in the pack really seemed to enjoy this kind of thing.

What he didn’t know was how Kazue would react.

For now, the pup didn’t move, still curled up against Katsuki’s chest, nose buried in his neck. But at least it wasn’t bothering him. So Katsuki moved past it, stepping farther into the bathroom. He found one of the tubs already filled up, a set of clothes placed next to it. A glance told him they weren’t from the other pups in the pack. They were both smaller than Kazue, but these clothes seemed just about his size. Yaoyorozu again, no doubt.

It was a sweet gesture, Katsuki knew, as was the tub, which he knew would be at the perfect temperature. He didn’t need to check to know. This was all just part of his pack taking care of him, he knew. But he still felt a bit of a tightening in his chest, something he ignored, dared not show in the slightest.

Instead, he slowly, carefully, pulled Kazue from his chest, setting the pup on the edge of the tub. The moment the pup’s face left his neck, Katsuki felt a tightening in his muscles, a string pulled taut, a clear void where the pup had once been. Equally, Kazue squirmed again, reaching for Katsuki. He blinked his eyes open, peered up at the alpha strangely, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of him.

You and me both, kid. Katsuki bit back a growl, one of confusion, maybe, discontent. Either way, he didn’t voice it, knowing it would only frighten the pup. For now, he was still a little drowsy off Katsuki’s and Deku’s scents, still contented and calm. Katsuki didn’t want to make a wrong move, didn’t want to give him a reason to become distressed again. So he pressed the blanket to Kazue’s body, wrapped it around his neck, let the pup bury himself in it.

“Here. You need to wash up. Take your clothes off.”

At his request, the pup’s eyes brightened immediately and he stared up at Katsuki from the blanket. There came a bit of a distrustfulness to his expression, a small, uneasy growl rising from behind the blanket. In response, Katsuki let his scent fill the room, let it wrap around the pup along with the lavender smell from Yaoyorozu’s aromatherapy ball. Slowly, Kazue relaxed again, allowed Katsuki to help him out of the clothes. He tossed them aside, thought about burning them later, if just to get that faint but ever-present scent of Deku’s distress scent away from him. Then, he lowered the pup into the water, the pup waking up a little more at the sensation.

He stared around the water as Katsuki gathered the soaps, splashed a bit, but his attempts at play were halfhearted. He reached for the blanket, but Katsuki pulled it away.

“If you get it wet, it’ll lose the scent.”

Kazue stuck his bottom lip out, ducked his head when Katsuki dumped water over his head. The alpha blinked, realized maybe he shouldn’t have done that so roughly, tried again, this time pouring it slowly over the pup’s back, gave him a towel when the pup whimpered and rubbed at his eyes.

“Where’s Mom?” Kazue asked.

Katsuki poured another bit of water over him. “In the hospital.”

“I want to see Mom.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll take you to see him. He’ll be out of surgery by then.”

The pup pouted again. “Now.” He demanded.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes, swallowed the huff that rose up his throat. Instead, he got to work cleaning up the pup, scrubbing away the dirt and grime. He tried not to think about the fact that so much accumulated dirt meant the pup hadn’t had a bath in a couple of days, that the alpha had held him and Deku for more than just a few hours. He tried not to think about all the suffering done to his pup and Deku, tried not to let his anger grow. Taking a breath, he calmed himself, focused on the bath. At first, Kazue shied away from him, but as he got a little cleaner, the pup leaned into the soap, even let out a little purr when Katsuki messaged shampoo into his head.

He’d made sure to use the pup-friendly shampoo that the others used for their kids, but he opted to use his own soap to clean the pup’s body. It was just another familiar smell to coat him in, something to invite him to relax.

Kazue, thankfully, remained fairly calm throughout the bath, even playing a bit more heartily when Katsuki turned away to find a towel. He splashed water at the alpha, who tensed at the unexpected gesture. Picking up on his reaction, the pup stilled, watched him. A bit of distress leaked out of him, the start of a tremble racing up his spine. Katsuki quelled it immediately, picking him up from the water and wrapping him in the towel and setting him on the ground. He leaned in to scent the pup, thought better of it. That was still a bit too personal, even after Kazue had spent the last hour pressed into Katsuki’s scent gland. He couldn’t risk scaring him accidentally. So he stayed the urge to do more, turned to fluffing up the pup’s hair.

Once Kazue was dry, Katsuki presented him with the new clothes only for the pup to reel away as if in disgust. It took a lot of encouraging before he would finally allow himself to be dressed in them. As soon as he was, he clamped onto Katsuki again, burying himself in the alpha’s scent, his own scent souring just a little.

Holding back a bit of alarm, Katsuki scooped up the pup and immediately took him back to his room, uninterrupted by doors suddenly opening or closing. He rearranged the things he had pulled together into what he’d seen of nests previously, but it was a sad, little nest to be sure. Kazue, a pup who had grown up with only an omega parent to care for him, took one look at the nest and frowned deeply.

“I’m trying, okay?” Katsuki muttered, pausing when Kazue pushed away from him, tottering on the bed toward the makeshift nest.

Slowly, the pup rearranged several items, piling them neatly, shifting them around carefully. He took the blanket with Deku’s scent on it and curled up right in the middle of the nest, snuggling it close to him. Then, he glared up at Katsuki, clearly judging him.

“We’ll see Mom tomorrow?”

Katsuki nodded. “I promise. We’ll go first thing in the morning. But you need to sleep first.”

The pup eyed him, pulled the blanket a little closer. “Is… is the alpha going to come back?”

Part of Katsuki laughed at the question. That part of him roared that the alpha would be stupid to come back, that he’d kill him on sight, that he’d rip that shitty alpha to the smallest bits he could and toss them into the ocean. Another part of Katsuki whined and growled and felt completely and utterly impotent. And a smaller, newer part of him just felt sad.

Slowly, he crouched beside Kazue, passed a hand through his hair. It started in his stomach, a noise that rose up like a breath of fresh air, a croon of safety, of belonging. Katsuki was not an alpha to croon often. In fact, he could probably count the number of times he’d done so on his two hands. But it felt right in this moment. It felt easy and natural, unlike some of those other times.

Kazue listened to him, looked a little confused. Of course, he’d probably never been around a crooning alpha before. He was properly only used to Deku’s omega calls, to humming and purring and all the soft, sweet sounds an omega could make. Alphas were different. Rougher, tougher. It was harder for Katsuki to calm the pup. Where an omega was soft, warm, a lovely, welcoming hug, alphas were iron, fire, a warning, a promise of safety. Katsuki was never going to be able to provide the same things Deku could. But he could try, in any way he knew how.

What he knew to do was to sit at the pup’s side, to croon to him, to brush his hair back, to let him sink toward sleep at his own pace. He wondered over just how much Kazue understood, how much he’d guessed. He hadn’t put up a fight, so he had to realize something, right? And what had Deku told him about his alpha? Had he told Kazue exactly who it was? Or had Deku kept the fact that he even had an alpha a secret?

There was no way to tell and Katsuki wasn’t going to pry for that information. Right now, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the pup’s eyelashes slowly closing, him slowly sinking into sleep. Katsuki stayed at his side, watching him as he fell into sleep, waiting to see if that sleep would be peaceful.

Once it was clear Kazue wasn’t going to wake, the alpha rose. He turned off the lights, stepped out into the hallway. Closed the door. Waited a moment.

He was a bit surprised the pack didn’t immediately rush him. Maybe they hadn’t figured it out yet.

But they would.

While they were still hiding away, Katsuki made his way to the kitchen. He pulled out a healthy stash of alcohol, poured himself a rather large glass. Turned, found the archway crammed full of his packmates. Each of them was silent, watching him, small glances given to the impressive glass in his hand, though otherwise nobody moved.

Nobody moved, until Iida took a step forward. He’d been standing in front of pack and now, as pack alpha, he was the first to act.

He stepped closer to Katsuki, readjusted his glasses. Stared at Katsuki, Katsuki at him.

In the end, Iida was the first to look away, to eye his glass. Katsuki drank deeply from it in response. Once he had, Iida gestured him out of the kitchen. “Let’s sit and talk,” he said, and that was all he had to say.

- - -

The pack was, in Katsuki’s opinion, large and unruly and getting worse by the day.

The entire pack consisted of most of the members of their original high school class. Not every member of their class had decided to join up, but it was understood that everyone had an open invitation, meaning that sometimes there were “guests” who stayed for months at a time. Those that lived full time at the packhouse were the one only Katsuki truly considered part of the pack, though he had been known to accept the presence of Tokoyami, the only alpha who wasn’t an official part of the pack. Kirishima always pointed to this as proof of how much Katsuki felt comfortable around their original class, as typically an alpha would never be permitted near the packhouse without being an official part of the pack, and Katsuki was the first one to threaten violence against any intrusions.

Of those who lived at the packhouse, there were the betas of the pack, the ones who kept the middle road, who often served as the mediators between the different pack members. Their role was to keep the pack together, to keep it strong as a unit. Katsuki had been told a successful pack was based almost entirely on the strength of their betas and he’d never believed it until he’d seen just how powerful a beta could be. Kirishima led the betas, who consisted of Kaminari, Sero, Mina, and Shoji.

The pack’s three omegas, Uraraka, Jiro, and Tsu, were the ones who cared for the others. Invariably, as was expected with the profession they had all chosen, someone would come home, hurt, sick, or just feeling emotionally drained and somehow the omegas always knew what to do to make it all a little brighter, even if they couldn’t fix exactly what was wrong.

That left the alphas, himself, Iida, Todoroki, and Yaoyorozu. They protected the pack, kept everyone in line, served as the regulators and standard bearers. Iida, being pack leader, ran a tight ship, which worked for them. They were all heroes, so they were used to following structure and keeping a sense of order. Katsuki served as second in command, though more from force of personality and his willingness to beat up anyone who challenged him than any real want to run the pack. In fact, he’d purposefully never challenged Iida for that reason. He had enough to deal with trying to become the best hero to also have to worry about whether someone, probably Kaminari, was burning down the house at any given moment. The only female alpha of the pack, Yaoyorozu was third in command, though she often took on the duties of second in command because Katsuki refused to do them. That left Todoroki, who cared so little about his place in the pack that nobody even really considered him in command of anything, even though he was an alpha. He simply did as any other alpha would, protecting his packmates, assisting them when they asked for help, being there when needed. He lived his life simply and seemed happy for it.

On paper and in theory, their pack ran well. And it did run well.

But there was always an element of chaos about their pack.

Always.

Katsuki knew this, so he was expecting something to happen as the pack gathered in the living room. What would happen today? Would Uraraka start yelling about how careless he was? Would Kaminari freak out and break all the electronics again? Would one of the pups realize something was happening and decide, at this very moment, that they needed something very urgently from their parents or the pack? He waited for whatever it was going to be. But nothing happened. The pack sat around him, all of them staring at him, waiting. And nothing else.

Katsuki took another drink, said nothing. He didn’t know where to start, what to say.

It was, as always, Iida, who spoke first. “Bakugo, is that pup really yours?”

Slowly, he nodded. “Calmed right down at my scent, even though he was terrified of all other alpha scents earlier.”

Iida nodded, thought carefully. “And… the omega we rescued earlier…?” Katsuki glared at him from over his glass, but the other alpha wasn’t one to back down. “Is he your mate?”

A bit of shame crawled into Katsuki’s stomach. He waited for it to move on, but it curled up, settled like a pit, his stomach twisting up in revolt as it made its home there.

He set his glass down. “Not exactly.” He huffed, brushed a hand over his neck. “I grew up with Deku. Knew him from before we both presented. Always took care of him, until….” He trailed off, paused, felt the shame settle a bit deeper, decided he wasn’t drunk enough to speak yet, took another drink.

When he set the glass down again, Iida was quick to take it away, earning a halfhearted growl in return. “Until?” The alpha prompted.

“Until I didn’t.” He bit his lip, thought carefully. Leaned forward to press his elbows into his knees. “I left him when I graduated high school. Told myself I had to focus on being a hero. I wanted to be the best. Couldn’t do that if I had an omega dragging at my heels. So I left him.” He reached for his glass, glared at Iida when he remembered it was gone. “Didn’t know he was pregnant when I did.”

Would that have mattered, though?

As much as Katsuki wanted to say it would have, he didn’t know. He’d been so wrapped up in himself back then. He’d been so convinced Deku would only weigh him down. A pup on the way would have only proven his point. So no, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. Maybe he had been spared being extra shitty for not knowing.

Alpha abandoned omega. Left him alone. Left him to die.

Katsuki growled. “Give me that drink back. I need it.”

“You’ve had enough,” the pack alpha said sternly. He readjusted his glasses again, peered at Katsuki over them. His look wasn’t the appraising one the alpha was used to getting. Instead, there was a softness to Iida’s expression, a tenderness not often shown to other alphas.

Slowly, Iida pressed a hand to Katsuki’s shoulder, squeezed him, reassured him. “I’m truly sorry for what you saw today, Katsuki.”

Given name, huh? Katsuki had always thought it was weird that the pack called each other by their surnames. Typically, packs called each other by their given names or by unique pack names. He wasn’t sure if it was just a holdover from them being in school together or what, but when Iida said his name, he felt a little roll of tension skip out from his shoulders, the guilt in his stomach thinning slightly. Katsuki may be an alpha, and he may be second in command of the pack, but he was still a packmate. Packmates cared for one another. No matter their role. It felt… nice… to be reminded of that.

“Haven’t seen him since I left. Wasn’t expecting to ever again.”

“Well, you have.” Iida leaned back, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “This is the situation. The only question now is what we are going to do about it.”

“We?” Katsuki couldn’t help but to growl.

“Of course, we!” Kirishima wrapped an arm around his neck, earning a full hiss from Katsuki. The beta unwisely ignored him. “You’re a part of the pack, Kats! If you’ve got problems, they’re our problems too!”

“Don’t call my pup a problem,” Katsuki growled, but he didn’t snap at the beta, as much as he wanted to.

“Aw, I didn’t mean it like that,” Kirishima pouted.

“He is right though,” Todoroki spoke calmly, despite the fact that Katsuki turned his growl to the other alpha. “This is going to effect the entire pack, whether you want it or not.”

“It’s not exactly a problem, though,” Uraraka said, tilting her head slightly. “It’s not like we’re not used to figuring things out. We do have to live with Kaminari, after all.”

“Hey!” The beta pouted deeply, but settled when Mina and Sero pressed in protectively around him.

Until, that is, Sero said, “She’s not wrong, though.”

“Plus, we’ve had to live with Bakugo for how long now? We’re used to your brand of crazy,” Mina added.

There were too many people to growl at, so Katsuki sat and seethed silently, only half listening as Kirishima leaned over to chat aimlessly with the other betas, the four spiraling quickly into a conversation about nothing at all.

As they distracted most of the pack, Katsuki was aware of Jiro turning toward him, the omega pursing her lips curiously. “So… what is your plan anyway?” She asked quietly, Katsuki letting his growl fade at her question, though he kept his glare sharp and fierce when he turned to her. She was undeterred. “Seriously though, you’ve never really dealt with the pups much. Do you even know how to care for one?”

The questions were valid ones, though Katsuki didn’t really appreciate her assessment of how he handled the pack’s pups. Before he could formulate an answer to them, the last and largest of the betas, Shoji, leaned over Jiro’s shoulder, extending a mouthed hand toward Katsuki which said, “And what happens if the media catches wind of this? It won’t be a good look for you to suddenly appear with a pup in tow, especially with their omega severely hurt in an alpha attack.”

To this, Katsuki let himself growl again. Of everything that regularly pissed him off, the media was the biggest pain in his ass ever. He knew it would be much easier for him to reach the top of the ranks if he played nice with them, but he’d never really given it much thought, just kept his head down, as much as he could anyway, and did his job. That was enough for some people. Endeavor had done it, after all. But Shoji’s point about the media finding out did touch on a nerve Katsuki hadn’t realized he had.

If the media found Kazue, if they found Deku? He wasn’t prepared to let them face what the media would want from them. They’d want to know more, they’d poke and pry. It would be a nightmare. After all Deku had been through, the last thing he needed was a bunch of reporters looking for a scoop, digging into his private and personal affairs to get something on Katsuki.

“The media can’t find out about this,” he hissed, clenched his fists at the thought. “Not while Deku’s in the hospital. Not while he’s still hurt.”

Jiro tilted her head. “Deku?”

Katsuki kept quiet. It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have yet.

Thankfully, he was spared having to explain when Tsu put a finger to her mouth and said, “You know, we can’t really plan anything anyway until the omega wakes up. Unless you plan on just taking his pup from him, Bakugo.”

“Never,” as much as Katsuki wanted to spit and snarl the word, it came out as barely more than a whimper, a plea. He bit his cheek at the show of weakness, didn’t miss the glance between Yaoyorozu and Todoroki, something unspoken passing between them.

Of course, that was the moment Kirishima decided to enter the conversation again. “Well that’s fine! We wouldn’t want to split them up anyway!” He grinned, ear to ear, eager and happy and utterly naïve. “We’d bring him into the pack, too, of course!”

There came a sudden and very powerful pause at the beta’s words. Alphas ran the pack, protected the pack. Omegas provided for the pack, built a home for the pack. Betas built the pack itself. Katsuki knew the only reason he’d really been allowed into the pack was not because of his strength as an alpha, but because Kirishima had invited him in. At the onset, the others hadn’t really been all that eager to welcome him in. But Kirishima was head beta; he got to choose who was in and who was out. For him to grant an invitation to an omega he’d never met before? That wasn’t usual. It was a powerful moment, a poignant one.

The childish cheer faded from Kirishima for a moment, a moment when he met Katsuki’s baffled look, a moment when he grinned at him, a moment when he nodded and he understood, maybe more than Katsuki himself did.

If this is the omega you’ve chosen, then he is worthy of our acceptance.

Something caught in Katsuki’s chest. Something very powerful, yet something he didn’t quite allow himself to feel completely.

He was only distracted when the other betas chimed in, agreeing to allow Deku a place in their pack. As each of the betas weighed in, the rest of the pack settled, the idea of incorporating another omega not sounding as daunting anymore.

Even Uraraka leaned back slightly, a smile on her lips, a thoughtful line along her face. “It would be nice to have another pup around the house for Fumiko and Takahiro to play with. I know he’s a little older than either of them, but I bet he’d make a great big brother!”

Katsuki blinked, not even considering the idea that his pup would get to play with other pups, would get to live and grow up alongside them. The pack to him had always meant safety, home. A pack to a pup would mean so much more.

What if Deku already has a pack? The idea had Katsuki reeling. Had he inadvertently stolen his pup away from a loving pack who were waiting to hear from one of their omegas? Surely they would have come to look for him and Kazue by now? And what would he do if Deku did have a pack? He couldn’t steal the omega away from them, no way. But would he be willing to leave his own pack for the omega?

He touched his head, shook it. He was getting way ahead of himself. He still didn’t even know if Deku was going to survive. They had to start somewhere. Living was as good as any other place.

One step at a time. Katsuki looked up, found himself meeting Yaoyorozu’s gaze. For all she had done already for them, she had been very quiet. Even Todoroki had spoken before her, which was unusual enough that the pack had most certainly noticed. Katsuki didn’t miss the subtle glances in her direction, the pins and needles feeling of anticipation as everyone waited for her to speak. Iida, as well, had been somewhat quiet, not interjecting in on the betas’ conversation, even though it was quite relevant to his pack. Instead, he was looking to Yaoyorozu, waiting for her assessment.

Yaoyorozu had to know it, too, though she just kept staring at Katsuki. Analyzing him. Though for what, Katsuki couldn’t tell. He sat under her scrutiny, waiting for whatever she actually had to say.

The tension in the room built until even the betas calmed down, watching their female alpha closely. She let that tension continue to build, until she dipped her chin, closed her eyes, and sighed deeply.

“This isn’t ideal in any sense,” she muttered. “In fact, it might be the worst way someone’s tried to introduce new pack members.” She paused again, seemed to think carefully through something, then shrugged. “But we have always been a nontraditional pack. After all, we have members who don’t even consider themselves full members of the pack. And that’s fine with us, even if it is quite unconventional.” She turned to face Katsuki, the pack leaning in to listen to her words. “What I’m saying is, no matter how this may turn out, we can support you and we can support your pup and his omega, even if they reject us. No matter what they choose, we’ll be here, as we always are, and that’s as much as we can promise.”

For as powerful as her words were, she gave no time for anyone to mull over them, continuing on quickly, “For now, we need to think about the needs of the pup. From what Iida and Shoto said about his omega, his wounds were quite severe. He’ll be in the hospital for quite a bit of time. So the pup needs comfort and compassion as well as understanding. He’ll be temperamental being away from his omega, especially since he knows his omega is hurt. We’ll need to plan for that.”

As the female alpha began listing off what they could do, the little things they could prepare for, Katsuki felt himself relaxing, felt himself settled for the first time since arriving home. Maybe it was subtle, the little ways he let himself lean back, the relaxing of the snarl on his lips, the way he sat quiet and still and let Yaoyorozu dictate the conversation. But he felt all those changes, felt himself give in to the situation, to the support and love of his pack. He let himself fade into the background, and he was okay with it. He only spoke when she paused to ask Deku’s name – Midoriya.

“Right, and if and when Midoriya recovers and decides whether he wants to investigate the pack, we’ll cross that bridge then. For now, all we can do is provide a loving and comforting environment for the pup. And that, unfortunately, begins with us alphas.” Yaoyorozu cut a glance to Iida and Todoroki. “We’re a bit lucky that you two were the ones to reach the scene first. Even though you’re alphas, he’s seen you before. He knows you’re heroes, even if you’re also alphas. I’m the unknown here. He’ll obviously have smelled me from the clothes I got him, but that might not be enough to convince him I mean no harm.”

In the middle of Yaoyorozu speaking, Katsuki cursed himself. Of course those new clothes had smelled like the female alpha! No wonder Kazue had reacted strangely to them! He should have scented them before making the pup wear them.

Bad alpha. Not being good to your pup.

Katsuki bit back a growl, tried to think of the positives. Yes, it would mean Kazue was at least a little more familiar with Yaoyorozu’s scent. He would associate her with a bit of safety. Plus, her scent would fade quickly the longer the pup wore the clothes and the more he was surrounded by Katsuki’s smell. By the morning, it should be completely gone.

As he thought over the mistakes he’d made, he kept half an ear to what Yaoyorozu was saying, the female alpha continuing on without realizing Katsuki’s distraction. “Since the pup is reacting badly to alpha scents at the moment, I suggest we stay as far away from him as we can. The longer he is here, the more he will get used to our scents from just being around the packhouse. For now, we should introduce him to the omegas and let them help care for him, if Bakugo would allow that. Then we introduce him to the betas. It may even be better to let him play with our pups before letting him meet us fully. Our pups will smell like us as well, but they won’t pose as much of a threat to Kazue as we would. Once he’d used to our scent, I think it would be okay to meet him, one at a time, very slowly, and with Bakugo present. It will be better if his omega is there as well, to further help keep him calm, but until we know the full situation with Midoriya, we’ll plan for this.” She cast a glance to the pack, who were buzzing with anticipation, with the realization that they really were going to have a new addition to the pack. That they had a plan to help the pup recover, to give him a place where he felt safe.

Yaoyorozu nodded toward Shoji, “As for the media and any other legal issues that may arise, we’ll just have to tackle them as they come up.”

Iida readjusted his glasses. “I’ll brush up on relevant laws, but I don’t think we’ll be in any danger of not being in compliance. As the pup’s alpha, Bakugo has equal rights to him. It’s ultimately up to him whether he wants to claim them or not.”

Silence and trepidation swept over the pack as all eyes turned to Katsuki. Katsuki didn’t blink an eye at them, placing his chin in his hand. “I won’t take Kazue away from Deku. It’ll be his choice on what to do. I’ll just give him the offer.”

An uneasiness swept through the pack, a realization that all their excitement may not be met with the same level of enthusiasm. Sensing the discomfort, Iida shifted, stood, became the pillar they all looked to for support. Even Katsuki tilted his head up to meet the alpha’s gaze, to hear what he had to say.

Iida kept his expression neutral, unchanging. Then, he nodded to Katsuki. “Bakugo, you’re in costume in the packhouse. I’m afraid you know that’s not allowed.”

It was something simple. Something so normal. Yet something so unexpected that Katsuki didn’t really know how to react at first. Likewise, the rest of the pack seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what their second in command would do.

But of course, Katsuki knew what to do. He stood, faced Iida with a snarl, felt a little centered in the boring normalcy of the moment. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He stepped past everyone, past Iida even, though he kept a respectful distance to the lead alpha. “I’m changing and going to bed,” he announced, his words met with silence. It wasn’t a strained silence as before. It was a quiet contemplation, a serene moment where the rest of the pack also enjoyed the everyday workings of their interactions.

It was a signal that, although things were different, nothing was going to change. No matter what may happen, things would continue on as they had for years now.

Slowly, starting with a smartass comment from Kaminari, a dull roar from the pack rose up, the sounds of stirrings and laughings and everyday pack life sounding in the house for the first time since Katsuki had returned home.

It was so easy. So normal. And Katsuki was so grateful. For so much of what had happened. For the little things. The small moments. The reminder that he was going to be okay, even if he didn’t feel like it.

- - -

Halfway up the stairs, Katsuki smelled it.

A pup’s distress.

Instinct had him racing up the last few steps, nearly clawing open his door to reach his pup. Still half buried in the nest, Kazue squirmed restlessly, whining and half-growing and reaching desperately for something that wasn’t there.

Deku’s blanket lay on the floor just over the edge of the bed.

Katsuki crossed the room quickly, picked up the blanket to press to the pup’s neck. Kazue gripped the cloth with a despair that had Katsuki hurting in ways he didn’t even know he could. Slowly, he crouched next to the pup, crooned lowly, letting the sound rumble through the bed and into the pup. Whether it was this or Deku’s scent, the pup quickly settled again, drifting into peaceful sleep. Katsuki kept by him for several minutes, before standing to go back to the door.

Uraraka was peeking into the room.

The hair rose on the back of his neck, a protective instinct screaming at him to chase her away, but he didn’t. She was pack and he knew it only made sense for her to be there. After all, she was the only omega in their pack to have had a pup before. No doubt she had sensed something was amiss and came to investigate. But she had stayed back, watched as Katsuki cared for his pup without intervening.

Now, she stood there, met his gaze. There was a curious expression about her eyes, something Katsuki hadn’t seen before. She regarded him carefully, as if she were trying to puzzle something out and she wasn’t quite convinced she had all the correct pieces. Katsuki stood and kept quiet and unmoving, giving nothing away.

Eventually, the omega smiled. She took the door handle, whispered, “Let us know if you need anything. Good night,” and shut the door.

The quiet click of the latch sent a shiver through Katsuki, though he couldn’t name its origin. He stood there, staring after the omega, until Kazue sniffled in his sleep.

He shucked off his hero costume, grabbed something to throw on, and crawled into the bed with the pup. It was more than a bit strange having a nest with a pup laying in it on his bed. But somehow, Katsuki found he fit quite nicely beside it, that it was easy to lay down and reach up to caress his pup’s cheek, to move hair from his face, to move the blanket again around his neck. Already, Katsuki could smell that Deku’s scent was fading. By morning, it would be gone. He didn’t know if it was going to be possible to get another scented blanket from Deku. He didn’t know if he was going to wake to the news that the omega had passed away from his injuries.

Something deep and primal inside of him howled at the thought, had Katsuki curling in on himself in pain.

No.

He couldn’t consider it.

He couldn’t even think about losing Deku.

Not now.

Not like this.

Katsuki hissed, pressed himself a bit closer to the pup. Just as Kazue smelled a bit like Katsuki, he also smelled a bit like Deku. It was this that the alpha clung to, that he tried to decipher through everything else. He rubbed Kazue’s back, crooned a little when the pup shifted, and settled in for the night, not knowing how he was going to face whatever news would be waiting for him in the morning.

Chapter Text

Something moving next to him in the morning had Katsuki shooting awake, something that had him growling and baring his teeth and letting out the most aggressive scent he could.

He was met with a scream of panic, a door slamming open, and the realization that the nest next to him was very suddenly empty.

It took him only a moment longer to realize what exactly had happened, scrambling out of bed and chasing after his terrified pup.

“Kazue!” He called, racing after the pup’s sour scent, down the stairs, into the living room, finding himself face to face with several of his pack members. Curled up in Kirishima’s arms, Kazue was shivering slightly, watery-eyed with fists wrapped up in the beta’s shirt. Kirishima, halfway through mumbling softly to the pup, paused as Katsuki appeared. Beta and alpha stared at each other for a moment, until Katsuki caught the wide, horrified look on Kazue’s face.

It occurred to him that this was the first time the pup was really getting to smell him. His scent blockers would have worn off during the night, as they always did. Mornings were always particularly foul around the packhouse as everyone rolled out of bed and got ready for their day. Katsuki, being an ummated alpha, was the worst. He knew that. But he hadn’t thought enough ahead to realize that all Kazue had been smelling of him had been a watered-down version, suppressed by the scent blockers until the moment he’d woken in a panic, letting out his aggressive scent.

I’ve fucked up. Katsuki stared at the terrified little pup, not really knowing what to do, not knowing how to make it all better.

Even Kirishima didn’t seem to know how to handle this situation. His beta scent was stronger as well, as he, too, wore scent blockers during the day, which was probably why the pup had instinctually run to him, the only non-alpha scent he recognized in the entire house. But that didn’t mean he knew what to do either.

Neither alpha nor beta moved for several long minutes, time hanging between them as they both raced to find a solution to this conundrum, to fix what had just happened.

They were saved by a bit of a huff from one of their nearby packmates, Katsuki surprised that he’d forgotten they weren’t alone. Jiro marched across the room to Kirishima, taking Kazue from his arms. The pup squirmed a little, but the omega let out a comforting scent that had him falling limply against her chest, eyes half-lidded.

Jiro glared at the two of them. “Seriously, you guys are so useless sometimes,” she sighed, taking the pup past Katsuki and back up the stairs. She’d gotten about halfway up when she said over her shoulder, “You coming or not, Bakugo?”

Katsuki jolted back to himself, following after her with a quiet growl of, “Yeah, whatever.”

The omega took Kazue not back to Katsuki’s room, but to her own on the opposite side of the house, where the omegas and the mated pairs had their rooms. As she carried the pup inside, Katsuki paused at her door. It wouldn’t be smart for him to just walk into the omega’s room without permission. Jiro wasn’t particularly territorial, but he’d seen more than one of his packmates get chased out of an omega’s room. It was asking for trouble stepping anywhere near their nest without express permission. All of the omegas in the packhouse had hidden nests in their oversized closets, but they were also known to guard their rooms jealously. Katsuki knew better than to just step inside.

Instead, he watched as Jiro set the pup on the bed and turned over her shoulder, grimacing suddenly. “Ugh. You reek. Go take a shower. I’ll take care of things here.”

Katsuki didn’t move, watching as Jiro turned back to Kazue, brushing his hair a bit flatter, though it didn’t have much effect, and wiping at some dried drool on his face. When she turned over her shoulder and saw Katsuki still standing there, she crossed her arms. “What? Don’t think I can handle this?”

“No,” Katsuki grumbled. He kicked at the doorframe, felt his lip trembling as he tried not to snarl at her. “Just make sure he gets breakfast.”

“Yup,” the omega turned away from him without further acknowledging him.

Kazue cast a curious eye between Jiro and Katsuki, but didn’t seem overly concerned about being near the omega. In fact, it was probably more comfortable for him to be near an omega, seeing as that was what he was used to. Even if Katsuki was his alpha, he couldn’t replace the comfort of an omega. He knew Jiro knew that, that this was just her trying to help.

But something still soured in his stomach at the thought of just leaving Kazue alone.

Another sharp glance over Jiro’s shoulder finally made him move, though reluctant and with grumbles and growls under his breath. He stomped back to his room, grabbed the first things he could find to wear, and went directly to the bathroom.

It was unnervingly quiet in the bathroom. Steam still present in the air told him that it had been occupied recently, the faint smell of Sero and Shoji telling him by who. But now the room felt somewhat cold and hollow, even more so when Katsuki turned, not for the first time, searching for the pup he knew wasn’t going to be at his heels.

He threw off his clothes, stepped into one of the shower stalls, and turned the water on cold. The brisk temperature washed over him, made him shiver, woke his body up as he hurried to clean himself. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that he hadn’t showered before going to bed last night, that he probably had still smelled faintly of Deku’s distress. Now, away from Kazue, away from Deku, away from everything that had happened, Katsuki tilted his head back, let himself think about all that had happened.

He’d really found Deku again. After five years, he’d stumbled across the omega. In perhaps the worse way possible. It could only be worse if he didn’t survive, if Katsuki had found him just to have to watch him die.

But… what did it mean? What did it matter? What did Katsuki think of the omega now?

It was hard to admit to himself that he’d missed Deku. That he’d ached from loneliness after leaving him. That all the success of his career hadn’t made up for the void where the omega had once stood. And why had he ever thought it would? He’d been at Deku’s side for so long. Since they had been pups themselves. Why had he thought that he didn’t want him anymore? That he was somehow a hinderance?

And what, exactly, had changed over the years? Had he really always been this consumed by thoughts of the omega? Or was it just that he’d found Deku hurt by some shithead alpha? Or that he had a pup?

No, that wasn’t it. Katsuki knew he cared for Deku. He always had. He’d cared so deeply that leaving had been one of the most painful experiences of his life. He’d used that pain as fuel to propel himself up the ranks, breaking into the top ten within a year of graduation. But it had always felt hollow, empty, as cold as the water running down his back. Over the years, he’d convinced himself that this was simply because he hadn’t been able to reach number one yet, that Mirio Togata still held that spot, with almost no one nearing his height. The smaller victories clawing up the ranks had felt meaningless. And maybe some of it was the fact that Katsuki didn’t know how he was going to topple the number one hero, but maybe some of it had been the sudden empty space at his side.

He’d hid from what he had done, convinced himself it was for the best. And now, he was having to face it, all of it, having to realize just how much his decision had hurt someone he truly cared for and someone who had truly cared for him.

As much as Katsuki was looking forward to seeing Deku again, a part of him felt a bit sick at the thought. What would Deku say? What would he do? Katsuki couldn’t even begin to imagine it. He thought maybe the omega would be furious, would send him away the moment he made an appearance. It was unlikely he was going to just jump straight into Katsuki’s arms and be asked to be taken home, not that Katsuki wanted that anyway. If he was lucky, Deku wouldn’t immediately turn aggressive toward him, would let him sit and talk, try to explain himself, try to offer reassurance and safety. And maybe the omega would listen. And maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, all Katsuki really wanted at this point was to see him alive. He’d been so hurt, so close to death, that just knowing the omega would live would be enough for Katsuki. To set Kazue in his lap and see Deku smile at his pup. That would be enough. Even if it wasn’t all that he wanted.

Truth be told, Katsuki didn’t really know what he wanted. He wanted… he wanted to see Deku happy. He wanted to see Deku healthy. He wanted to see Deku safe. Even if he didn’t know what all had happened to the omega during the last five years, even if this one incident was all that had occurred, it was already too much for Katsuki to accept. He ached to be able to provide that safety and comfort for the omega, even if it was for nothing in return. He owed him, didn’t he, for not being there? For abandoning him, for letting this terrible thing happen to him?

The thought of exactly what that alpha had done to Deku had his blood boiling, had him shaking in rage. He turned the water a bit colder, forced his thoughts away.

Instead, he wondered just why the hospital hadn’t gotten back to him yet on Deku’s condition. Before getting in the shower, he’d checked his phone but there hadn’t been any messages or missed calls from the hospital, nothing to show that they had any updates at all on the omega’s status. Surely he wasn’t still in surgery? It had been over twelve hours now. Had he really been that hurt?

But no, that wasn’t it. Katsuki cursed out loud as he realized he’d left the hospital without providing them a number to call. He’d been so focused on getting Kazue home he’d completely forgotten about that.

“Way to go, Katsuki Bakugo.” He pressed his forehead to the tile, found it even colder than the water pouring down his body.

His name rung through his mind, along with all that had happened in the hospital. He walked carefully through all the steps he had taken, all the steps he had missed, the moments he had leaped completely over in his rush to get Kazue home. He’d forgone logic and reasoning and let his instinct take over. Never a good idea, especially for a hero. They were held to a higher standard, after all. Alpha, beta, omega. That didn’t matter to a hero. That was for civilians to concern themselves with, was part of the reasons heroes often wore scent blockers and took suppressants. But nobody could completely ignore their secondary gender. Katsuki knew. He’d done his best to do just that for the past five years, had struggled and battled with an inner demon alpha who liked to take over at the most inopportune times. Like when his packmates were trying to help him rescue someone in need. Or when he should have been following procedure or when he should have left adequate information to relevant parties so he could get a fucking update on the one omega that was consuming his thoughts.

Or…

Or….

Or…?

Did…?

Did Kazue even know his name…?

The question had Katsuki opening his eyes, staring into the water swirling into the drain at his feet. His mind raced in much a same way, spiraling through the events that had played out, all the little moments he’d shared with Kazue.

And…

And, no.

No, he had never told his own pup his name.

The only name Kazue knew him as was Ground Zero. Kirishima had told him both their heroes names when they’d first picked up the pup, but nothing else.

All his pup knew him by was his hero persona, not anything else.

A horrible, strangled laugh choked its way up Katsuki’s throat, had him pressing a hand to his mouth in shock and pain.

It was fitting, he knew, that even after he’d found his pup, had learned of his existence, had stepped into his life for the first time, that Kazue only knew him by the hero name Katsuki had given him up for. This was karma, pure and simple, sharp and hot, slicing through his life.

This was what he deserved.

Another laugh choked its way up as Katsuki ground his skull into the shower tiles.

I’m such a damn, useless, pathetic alpha.

- - -

By the time Katsuki stepped back out into the hallway, he felt as if the cold water had done nothing to calm his otherwise anxious and mildly irritated mind. When he opened the door, he found himself standing before Iida, as if the pack alpha had been expecting him to come through it at just that moment. The other alpha looked sharply up and down Katsuki’s figure, then adjusted his glasses.

“I’m informing the agency that you won’t be in for a few days. Take any time you need to sort things out and let use know what we can do to help.”

He went to walk away, but Katsuki grabbed his arm. “I’m not giving up my patrols. I need to go on them.”

Iida’s eyes flashed in his direction, a clear warning. “What you need is to take care of your pup and his omega. Figure out what’s going on with them. We’ll adjust as necessary.”

Katsuki went to growl some more, but Iida shrugged his hand away and took the stairs two at a time, clearly giving him no room to argue. For a moment, the alpha thought about chasing after him, but thought better of it. He did have to see to Kazue and Deku, after all, at least for today. Once he got to the hospital and knew exactly what was going on, then he’d figure out the rest.

Still stewing a bit, he wandered back to Jiro’s room, pausing just outside when he heard Uraraka laughing from behind the door. He knocked and was met with a clear “Come in!” by the other omega, though he was still careful when opening the door.

Inside, he found Kazue jumping on Jiro’s bed, surrounded by the three omegas. The pup was laughing joyously, throwing his arms up in the air, the omegas cheering him on. They were wholly focused on Kazue, on his bright smile and his wonderous laugh. And Katsuki, too, found himself wrapped up in this moment, watching his pup play and have fun for the first time. Kazue was rambunctious, throwing himself around the bed only to leap back to his feet and continue bouncing experimentally, sometimes venturing close to one of the omegas before they reached out to tickle him and he would burst out in giggles and leap quickly away. He was carefree and bright and so beautiful.

Katsuki didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted to watch Kazue play forever, to get lost in his laughter, to watch him enjoy this small moment that life had to offer him over and over.

But the moment had to end, and it ended when Tsu turned over her shoulder. “Ah, there you are Bakugo.”

The other omegas paused in the play to turn to Katsuki, Kazue realizing they were no longer alone and dropping onto the bed like a stone.

“Ah!” He pushed himself off the bed and ran to Katsuki, grabbing his hand and yanking on his arm. “Mom! I want to go see Mom now!”

Katsuki glanced up at the omegas, found their smiles a little sadder. “Did you eat?” He asked the pup.

Kazue nodded vigorously. “Cereal.”

“Good cereal?”

“De-li-cious cereal.”

Katsuki felt a smile tug at his lips as the pup struggled over the word, but was more than mildly impressed at his vocabulary. A quick glance told him the omegas had also changed him into new clothes, probably also from Yaoyorozu. No matter their origin, they were soft when Katsuki picked up the pup, set him on his hip. He’d long been used to handling pups from the two in the pack, but it was decidedly differently holding his own. He felt a little prickle of unease, or maybe complete ease, having him in his arms.

“All right. Let’s go see your mom.”

Kazue cheered, but as he did, Katsuki felt his own joy slip away. Even if Deku had made it through the night, they weren’t necessarily going to be cheering. The omega was still going to be very hurt. Katsuki wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to explain that to the pup, but he knew that was a bridge that was rapidly coming up on the road.

“Can we play later?” Kazue asked the omegas.

“Of course! Anytime, Kazue,” Uraraka said.

“We’ll be here, waiting for you,” Tsu added and Jiro nodded in agreement.

Kazue smiled brightly, grabbed hold of Katsuki’s shirt. “I can come back and play right?”

“One step at a time,” Katsuki tried to keep the growl out of his voice, though he could tell by the quickly fading smile of the pup that he hadn’t quite succeeded. “Let’s go see how Deku’s doing first.” He waved to the omegas, who waved back as he took Kazue back toward his room.

“What’s Deku?” The pup asked.

“It’s a name I call your mom,” Katsuki said shortly as he grabbed his wallet and keys.

“Why do you call him that?”

He bit at his lip. “Ask your mom that, okay?”

“Okay.” It was simple for the pup. They’d go to the hospital and his omega would be there and everything would be okay. He’d get to ask him about the name Deku, tell him about his adventures with Katsuki, and about playing with the omegas.

It was far too simple.

Katsuki didn’t know how to tell him just how simple it wasn’t going to be.

- - -

While on the way to the hospital, Katsuki couldn’t find a good place to bring it up, so he simply cleared his throat halfway through the trip and said, “Just so you know, my name is Katsuki Bakugo.”

Kazue kicked his legs from the backseat, having been strapped into the car seat the pack used for the other pups. “I know,” he said.

It took a lot in Katsuki to not immediately wreck the car. “You know?”

“Sure! You’re Ground Zero, right? That’s what Red Riot said!”

“Y-yeah….”

Kazue pointed a little finger into the air. “Ground Zero’s real name is Katsuki Bakugo! He’s the number four hero in the country! And he’s you! So you must be Katsuki Bakugo!”

There was a beat of silence in the car. Kazue looked like he might break out in a theme song if Katsuki let him.

Instead, the pup lowered his arm and said, “Mommy likes to talk about heroes. I know a lot about heroes from Mommy! Like how Red Riot’s name is actually Eijiro Kirishima!” It was amusing to hear the pup fumble over Kirishima’s name, but he actually got it down pretty well. “His Quirk is Hardening! He can make his skin like rock! And yours is Explosion!” He made an exploding sound, then fell back into his seat with finality.

As strange as it was, it did make sense to Katsuki that Deku would have taught his pup all about heroes. He’d always been a fanboy, all throughout their childhood. So maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised that the pup knew his name and his Quirk, but it was still a little shocking.

What the hell is your Quirk going to be?

The question formed slowly, each word dripping like molasses. Mostly because Katsuki was only mildly curious. More than likely, if Kazue had a Quirk, it was going to be his own. Deku was Quirkless, after all. The only inheritable Quirk between the two of them was Katsuki’s Explosion. If the pup really was four years old, then he would be right around time to present both his Quirk and his secondary gender. Katsuki mulled over this, wondered if Deku already knew what he was going to be. In the short time he’d spent with Kazue, he’d picked up one some tendencies, like his nesting and him being quick to scare, though he couldn’t tell what was his nature starting to peek through and what might be related to the trauma he’d gone through. It was impossible to tell and honestly, it was just about the last thing Katsuki was worried about.

In fact, the closer they got to the hospital, the more it dropped out of his mind. When they finally pulled up to it, he had nearly forgotten about those musings. Kazue was buzzing with anticipation. Katsuki was as well, but for very different reasons.

When he got the pup out of the car, he stopped and crouched to be eye level with him. Kazue tilted his head curiously, so at least Katsuki knew he was paying attention when he said, “Listen, Kazue. Your mom is still going to be very hurt, all right? He’s not going to be all better. So you might have to be very gentle with him, okay?”

For as jittery as the pup had been, he settled immediately, nodded slowly, as if even that movement could cause harm to his omega. Katsuki ruffled his hair affectionately and held out his hand, Kazue immediately taking it as they ventured inside.

The nurse at the front desk was different from the one the previous night, but when Katsuki gave his name, she eyed him as if she knew exactly what he had done.

“We’ve been expecting you,” she said shortly, then nodded down the hall. “There’s a waiting room second door on the left. A nurse will meet you there.” And that was all she had to say.

Katsuki led Kazue to the waiting room, plopping him on one of the chairs while they waited, the pup kicking his legs out as he had in the car. They weren’t there long before a door opened and a doctor came out with a nurse behind him.

“Midoriya?” He called and Kazue launched himself out of his chair.

“Me! Me! That’s my name!” He grabbed at the doctor’s leg before Katsuki could stop him. “Where’s my Mom?”

The doctor patiently smiled at the little pup. “You’ll get to see your omega soon, pup. Here. This is Ms. Aoi. She’s going to take a look at you and make sure you’re doing a little better first. Is that okay?”

Kazue blinked at the doctor, then up at Katsuki. Katsuki jolted when he realized the pup was looking for him for an answer and he nodded quickly.

Still looking unsure, Kazue nodded as well, taking the nurse’s hand when she reached for him. Katsuki went to follow them down the hall, but the doctor put an arm in his path.

“While the pup’s distracted,” the doctor brought his voice low, “we should discuss Midoriya’s condition.”

Katsuki felt his throat tighten. There was a lot he wanted to say. A lot he wanted to ask. The only words he could manage to force out were, “Is he… gone?”

The doctor lowered his chin slightly. “Not yet.”

Those two, tiny words made everything feel just a little colder. When the doctor nodded him down the hallway, Katsuki followed. He said nothing more and the alpha was too afraid to ask anymore of him, so they walked in silence, deeper and deeper into the hospital, until the doctor paused at a window. The window peered into one of the patient rooms, but the curtains were drawn and unmoving. That is, until the doctor knocked twice on the glass. After a moment’s pause, the curtains opened to reveal, first, a nurse on the other side, and second, a body laying in a bed.

Katsuki felt every nerve in his body seize up at the sight of what lay in front of him.

Deku looked… horrible.

Tubes of various sizes stuck into his body, his arms, his hand, down his throat. A machine carefully and consistently pumped oxygen to him, the slide and hiss unsettling in a way Katsuki couldn’t explain. A heart monitor kept careful vigil of his heartbeat, the lines clear and present, proof of life. But for these things, the workings of the hospital trying to keep someone alive, Katsuki would have thought the omega long dead.

He was pale, sickly. Nearly every inch of the omega’s skin was wrapped in heavy gauze. A cast was pressed to his right arm, his left leg elevated with pillows. His face was black and swollen. There were bandages over his eyes, over his neck, each of his fingers. If Katsuki didn’t know any better, if not for that shock of green hair, he wouldn’t have recognized the omega at all.

The doctor watched through the glass much as Katsuki did for several silent moments. “It’s a lot to take in, I know,” he muttered quietly. “Whenever you’re ready, I can give you any specific details you may want to know.”

What did he want to know? What was there to know?

Katsuki swallowed, filled himself up with the heavy feeling of iron in his stomach, much as he might right before a big fight. “Is he going to live?”

The doctor made a dissatisfied humming noise. “It’s still touch-and-go, unfortunately. For now, we’ve had to place him in a medically-induced coma, at least for a few days. His body needs time to heal and he would be in a lot of pain if we didn’t keep him medicated. So, for now at least, he’ll stay asleep. If he makes it through the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours, he should be okay.”

A medically-induced coma.

For all intents and purposes, Deku was dead to the world. Machines were the only things keeping him alive.

Katsuki reached out for the wall, steadied himself on it. Took in a breath to calm himself, though he found it shaky, uneven.

The doctor paused waiting to see if Katsuki was going to ask anything else, but the alpha didn’t honestly know what else to ask. Did he want to know all the gory details? Did he really want to know just how likely it was that this was going to be the end?

When he said nothing, the doctor added, “There are a couple more procedures that need to be done. Mostly cosmetic. We’ve called in a dentist to help fix his broken tooth, for example.”

“Broken tooth?” Katsuki repeated, to which the doctor nodded.

“Yes. His left canine was broken through some sort of trauma. It’s unclear how at this point, though blunt force trauma to the face is the most likely culprit.”

Blunt force—

Katsuki couldn’t help a growl from seeping out. The alpha had punched Deku so hard he’d broken one of his teeth.

“There is one more procedure we’d like to do, but we need your permission to do so,” the doctor held his clipboard to Katsuki, flipped to a paper with a place for him to sign at the bottom. “It’s quick, painless, and once it’s done, you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

The doctor’s words were vague enough to set Katsuki on edge, though he didn’t glance a second time at the paper. “Why would you need my permission for a procedure on De— Midoriya?”

“Well because,” the doctor sounded a bit confused. “You’re his alpha.”

Immediately, Katsuki turned away. “I’m not his alpha.”

There was a beat of silence between them. The doctor kept the clipboard raised to him, pressed a hand to his forehead briefly. “I’m going to pretend,” he said simply, sharply, earning a glare from Katsuki, “that I didn’t hear that. If you want this procedure done, you’d best sign this form.”

Katsuki snapped his jaws, though the doctor didn’t even flinch. “The hell are you even talking about? What procedure needs the permission of an omega’s alpha to get done? And you’re just going to overlook the fact that I’m not his alpha at all? You’re going to let me make a decision on his behalf when I’m not even his partner?”

The doctor’s arm slipped a little lower. But still, the clipboard was held out to Katsuki. “You… don’t understand what this is for, do you?”

“No. But what does that matter?”

“It matters because this will give us permission to administer late-stage birth control to the omega.”

The only sound to hear was the unnerving hsss of the machine currently breathing for Deku just a window away. In that window, Deku looked small, frail. He looked a lot different from the omega Katsuki had known, had grown up with. He didn’t look like himself at all.

The doctor shifted in his stance. “Here’s the issue,” he said, bringing his voice low, “the state of the injuries Midoriya sustained has led us to believe that he had been held two to three days by the alpha,” – two to three days?? Katsuki nearly choked at the news – “we can only administer this sort of procedure up to five days after the incident. Once those five days are up, the omega will have to carry any… additions to a certain term. Then, the abortion procedure is much more invasive and much more traumatizing. Especially if said addition is… unwanted.”

The implication was clear. Katsuki remembered what he had smelled when he had first found Deku, the rank, sickening smell of lustful sex mixed with distressed omega. It could only mean one thing.

“While it’s rare for male omegas to be able to conceive,” the doctor continued, bringing his tone back to its clinical cadence, “male omegas who have had previous success carrying pups to term are more likely to be able to get pregnant again. So we highly recommend this procedure for him. Since he isn’t able to give consent, his alpha would be the next person able to sign off on it.” Again, he offered the clipboard to Katsuki.

There were a lot of things Katsuki was thinking about. His heart was still hammering at the fact that Deku and Kazue had been held for two to three days by this sick and twisted alpha. The fact that Deku could potentially be pregnant with the alpha’s pup made his stomach twist up in painful knots. The fact that this doctor was letting him make this decision for Deku, demanding it of him really, made his mind reel.

What if he said no? That he wasn’t able to give permission anyway. That he didn’t want to make such a decision for Deku? That he didn’t have the right to make that decision for him? What would happen if Deku woke up, pregnant with the pups of the alpha who had attacked him and Kazue, being forced to carry them for several weeks if not months before having to go through another traumatic experience to get rid of them? And what if he carried them completely to term? What if he had to face a pup day after day knowing their alpha had nearly killed him?

And what if… Katsuki just signed that paper?

Surely Deku didn’t want this. Right? He would want Katsuki to sign that paper, to not let that happen to him.

…Right?

“This is for the best.” The doctor’s voice was low, reassuring. A hand squeezed Katsuki’s shoulder. He found he didn’t have the strength to shrug it off.

Slowly, he took the pen that was at the top of the clipboard, signed his name on the line.

The doctor waited for him to return the pen before flipping the papers over Katsuki’s signature. “We’ll get that done immediately. Once it’s over, we’ll allow his pup to see him.” The doctor signed something sharply, glanced up at Katsuki. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all this. We’ll take good care of your omega, I promise.”

My omega?

Katsuki wanted to curl up into a ball. He wanted to scream and rage and break things and maybe cry if there was no one there to see it. But he didn’t.

He watched as the doctor stepped into the room, checked over Deku’s body. Watched as the nurse came and pulled the curtain back over the window. Waited, for what he had done to sink into his bones, for the dread of what he had been forced to do make standing there much too painful.

Then, with shaking knees, he walked away.

In the clinically clean halls of the hospital, it was easy to follow the comforting scent of his pup down the hall. He’d find Kazue. Wrap him up in his arms. Tell him everything was going to be okay.

And maybe, one day, it would be.

Chapter Text

The nurse was in the room when Katsuki opened the door. She gave a noise of indignation, until she realized who it was, then she smiled sadly at him and gestured for him to join them. Kazue was seated on an examination table and he gazed up at the alpha with a little tilt to his eyebrow and a few tears on his cheeks. There was an IV in his arm and one glance at it told Katsuki that it was probably the source of the pup’s tears.

“Not to worry,” the nurse said quickly as Katsuki eyed the IV line. “He was still a bit dehydrated, but this will fix him up. And once that’s done, this brave little pup will have a clean bill of health. The bite mark and the burns on his hands were healed by one of our Quirk doctors yesterday and there appears to be no adverse effects today, so he’s all better now.”

Despite the good news, Kazue sniffled, stared anywhere except the IV line. Invariably, his gaze ended up on Katsuki, who found himself crossing the room to take the pup’s hand. “It-it’s okay,” Kazue lifted his arm to wipe at his eyes, only to flinch when he felt the plastic line moving against his skin. “I’ll be o-okay.”

Katsuki growled lowly, again when the nurse moved to cross the room. She only smiled patiently at the alpha. “I’ll be right back. Make sure he doesn’t pull the line, okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Katsuki grumbled, turned back to the pup when he sniffled. He ran a hand along Kazue’s cheeks, cleaning up his face.

“When… when can I see Mommy?” The pup asked quietly.

“Soon, pup, soon,” Katsuki muttered. “Just try to calm down.”

Kazue nodded. “Okay.” He took in a deep breath, screwed his eyes shut tight, and held it. Katsuki tilted his head at the bizarre behavior, watching as, eventually, the pup let out his breath in one, giant heave. Then he shook his head and looked up at the alpha, eyes no longer watery.

I can’t believe that worked. Katsuki blinked, blinked again as Kazue settled quickly down. Although he was still clearly uncomfortable, he wasn’t crying anymore nor did he look to be on the verge of tears. Katsuki wondered where he had learned a trick like that from, but there could only be one answer. But Katsuki couldn’t remember Deku ever doing that. Not in all the years he’d known him. Then again, he supposed it had been a long time. It wasn’t out of the question he’d been forced to pick up some new tricks just to survive alone in the world.

Your fault. You did this.

“Umm… Mr. Bakugo?”

It was the first time Kazue had called his name, the first time he’d tried to get the alpha’s attention. In that moment, Katsuki was raptly aware of him, eyes sharp and narrow on the pup, who shifted on the examination table, a little confused, a little scared. Biting back a curse, Katsuki let out a bit of his scent for the pup, Kazue settling again as it washed over him. “Don’t call me that.”

The pup blinked at him, then tilted his head slightly. “What should I call you then? Ground Zero?”

“No,” Katsuki growled, Kazue flinching back. Again, Katsuki had to let a little of his scent out to calm him. “Call me… Kacchan.”

The pup tilted his head the other way. “Kacchan?”

“It’s what your mother used to call me.”

“Oh,” Kazue narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You know my Mom?”

Shit. Katsuki chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to think of what to say.

He was saved when the nurse knocked at the door and entered, holding some paperwork. “Here you go! I just need you to sign here.”

Katsuki didn’t move, his mind repeating the words of Deku’s doctor, over and over again. “What are they for?”

“Release papers. Once his IV is done, he’ll be good to go home.”

Still, when the nurse handed Katsuki her clipboard, he carefully read over the paperwork, realizing it was, indeed, just a release form from the hospital. He signed it, but still found his fingers shaking in the aftermath.

The nurse took the papers, checked the IV, and smiled. “You’ve been such a brave pup! Here. I think we are all done now.” She unhooked the line, fiddling with the drip bag momentarily before turning back to Kazue. “It’s going to hurt a little when I take the IV out, okay?” Kazue immediately tensed and Katsuki stepped a little closer to him. “It’s okay. You’re such a brave pup, after all. Ready?”

The nurse took Kazue’s arm and the pup yelped, throwing himself toward Katsuki and burying himself in his shirt. Katsuki’s muscles all snapped tight at the same time, so much so that they ached from the sudden reaction. However, when the pup whimpered as the nurse removed his IV, the alpha was quick to wrap his arms around him and try to comfort him as much as he could.

After the nurse smoothed a bandage over the pup’s arm, she stepped back. “There! All done!” Kazue warily peered at her from Katsuki’s shirt, untrusting as he took his arm back from her. “You can stay in the waiting room until Midoriya is ready to see you.”

Kazue’s head popped off of Katsuki, reaching for the nurse. “Wait! My Mom? Am I going to get to see my Mom now?”

The nurse smiled patiently. “Not right now, but soon. The doctor will let you know.”

Just as sudden as his surge of joy, the pup slumped in disappointment, crossing his arms and pouting spectacularly. Katsuki had to admit, he looked a lot like Deku in that moment. He’d seen that look on the omega’s face more than once when they’d been children. Whenever Deku had made that face, he had always jabbed the omega in the side, making him giggle and breaking him out of whatever mood he might be in. His fingers flinched to do the same again, some long-buried habit reinforcing itself, but he stopped himself, instead helping Kazue down from the table when the pup scooted to the edge and eyed the ground untrustingly.

The pup’s hands curled around his fingers, three of them, Kazue contently standing next to him as the nurse got the door for them and gestured them out. Katsuki was struck by the moment, such a normal, boring interaction, just a pup holding his alpha’s hand. But Kazue’s palm was warm and soft, his fingers gripping Katauki’s a little tight, the only indication of his nervousness.

He’d missed this. All of this. This should have been a normal touch. Nothing significant.

And yet, Katsuki felt a weight pressed against his chest. It would have been a nice feeling, if not for the guilt that roared up from his stomach right afterward.

This. Is. Your. Fault. You’ve. Done. This.

“This way,” the nurse said pleasantly, leading them from the room. And still, Kazue was the one who had to pull Katsuki along, lead him forward.

Once they were back in the waiting room, the nurse told them she would check in with Deku’s doctor for them. And when they were alone, Kazue huffed loudly.

He was still holding Katsuki’s hand.

“I want to see Mom. Why won’t anyone let me see Mom?” He growled just under his breath.

Katsuki wasn’t exactly sure what to say. So he picked the pup up under the arms, set him down in one of the chairs, sat next to him. Kazue kicked his feet, maybe a little less enthusiastically as he had done when they’d first arrived. There was still a little pout to his lips.

As much as Katsuki wanted to reassure the pup, he was having his doubts as well. Seeing Deku in that condition had shaken him up, and he’d seen far worse in his hero career than the pup ever would. This was his mother, his omega, the only parent he’d ever known. Would it be wise to expose him to such a terrible sight? Would it be worse to keep them apart? The blanket from yesterday lay abandoned in the nest on Katsuki’s bed, no longer smelling of the omega at all. No doubt the pup’s anxiety would continue to rise without having the comfort of his omega, but would that anxiety ever reach the level of trauma of seeing Deku laying in that hospital bed? Katsuki didn’t know, but he was more than a little uncomfortable with the idea.

This was the thought pounding on Katsuki’s skull when the door opened and Kazue threw himself from his seat.

“Mom! Mom! I want to see Mom!” The pup tugged impatiently at the doctor’s pant, hardly giving him the chance to step into the waiting room.

He smiled at Kazue, but before he could speak, Katsuki was rising to his feet.

“Doc, I want a word with you. Privately.”

The doctor’s smile faded slightly as the alpha picked Kazue up and set him back in his seat. The pup growled at him, but Katsuki held his hand up. “Sit here and behave. We’ll be back.”

Kazue glared at him as if he were considering his options, hands pressed into his seat, ready to leap up again.

Katsuki lowered his hand, leaned into the pup, letting off some of his scent, catching Kazue’s attention. “Please? Just a moment.”

There was a moment of silence between them. Katsuki didn’t really know what the pup might be thinking, but he didn’t interrupt, waiting for whatever choice he may make.

Finally, Kazue huffed and turned sharply away from them, crossing his arms and lifting up his shoulders. For as unhappy as he may be, Katsuki knew just how big of a step this was for a pup his age.

Deku must be a great mom. But of course, that wasn’t a surprise to Katsuki.

Once the pup was settled, the alpha followed the doctor back into the hallway. They stepped away from the door into the waiting room, paused until it was firmly shut, then Katsuki faced the doctor.

He still felt a bit of unease standing before the doctor again. He eyed the doctor, found read his badge and realized he hadn’t even known his name until that moment, Doctor Tanaka. His fingers flinched and he didn’t really know why, but he pushed past it. Now was not the time for this.

“Doctor,” he said quietly, “is it really okay for Kazue to see his omega like that?”

Understanding flashed in Tanaka’s eyes. He pressed his fingers into the corner of his eyes, couldn’t seem to face the alpha as he spoke with a sigh, “As terrible a sight it may be, think of the last time the pup saw his omega. In what condition was he then? How terrified was he? What exactly did he see and hear happen between Midoriya and that alpha?” Each question made Katsuki want to reel back in disgust, but he knew Tanaka had a point, so he listened no matter how much it made him want to howl in fury. “For as awful as it may be, at least the pup will know for certain that here, his omega is safe, that we are caring for him. So it may not be easy, but yes, I think it’s okay for Kazue to see Midoriya in his current state. But ultimately, that’s up to you.”

Up to me.

Turning that decision on me again, huh?

But Katsuki knew why. He was the alpha, the hero, the only one currently able to make decisions between the three of them. Still, it didn’t feel quite right.

He glowered at Tanaka, but all he could think of was his pup, begging again and again for his mom. How could he deny Kazue the chance to see his mom, maybe for the last time? And yet, how could he stand and watch the pup face the horrible truth of all that had happened to his omega?

No, it wouldn’t be easy. But maybe Kazue needed this.

Biting off his growl with a click of his tongue, Katsuki hissed, “I need to speak with him first, then he can see his mom.”

Tanaka nodded. “Very well. Take your time.”

Katsuki kept his glare on the doctor for several moments, but he didn’t move. Realizing he was waiting for the alpha to move first, Katsuki stepped past him, pausing for a moment to calm himself before facing Kazue. He pressed the door open and something crashed into his leg.

Kazue was baring his teeth, fingers dug into Katsuki’s leg. “Mom.” He hissed.

Katsuki stared down at the pup, contemplating what to do. Then, he said, “I told you to behave, didn’t I?”

The pup’s fingers tightened. He shivered, pulled a little closer to Katsuki. When he spoke, it was hardly more than a whisper, a plea, a desperate prayer. “Mom.” He said again, and Katsuki felt the trembling of his pup in his own knees at the despair in his voice.

Slowly, he crouched next to Kazue, pulled his hands free of his pants, held them gently but firmly. The pup’s hands were unusually warm. Katsuki rubbed them as his packmates sometimes did to him, usually when he came back from a long day of hero work and his body was spent from using his Quirk. It was the one thing that the pack knew could soothe him when he was feeling particularly foul.

Deku had done it to him as well, once upon a time.

“Listen,” he said softly, tried to keep his voice level and low, “are you listening? This is important.”

“Mommy,” the pup begged.

“I know. It’s about your mom.” Immediately, Kazue went rigid, staring straight at Katsuki, waiting for him to speak. Katsuki let out his scent a little more, but the pup was far beyond his help now. The only thing that could calm him was his omega. The alpha continued to rub the pup’s palms, soothing little circles. “You know how yesterday your mom was in surgery? He’s out of surgery now, but he’s still sleeping because of it. Do you understand?”

The pup sniffled. Water rushed to his eyes. “He’s… sleeping?”

Katsuki nodded. “Yes, he’s sleeping.”

“Will he wake up?”

The alpha swallowed, took in a deep breath, “We’re going to take you to your mom, but you have to be very, very gentle around him. He’s still very weak and very hurt. But you can see him.”

At the news, the first tear fell from Kazue’s eye. He tore one of his hands away from Katsuki to rub at it. “O… okay.” He peered up at the alpha, eyes still a little watery. “Can… can I touch him?”

“You’ll have to ask the doctor that.” Katsuki picked the pup up, set him on his hip. Kazue immediately crawled a little higher, seeking out the warmth of his scent gland, burying himself in Katsuki’s neck. Even so close to his alpha, the pup did not settle as he had the previous day.

Once the pup had stopped squirming as much, Katsuki took him back to the hallway, where Tanaka was waiting. Seeing the two together, he nodded once, gestured them to follow him. Katsuik kept a hand pressed to Kazue’s neck, willing him to not try to look for his omega. He didn’t know how else to prepare the pup for what he was about to see, but every part of him was trying to hold off the moment, trying to keep it from happening.

But, eventually, they came to stand at the door leading to Deku’s room. The curtain was still drawn over the observation window. Tanaka did not knock to have it opened.

What he did do, was turn to Katsuki, wait until the alpha nodded, then knocked softly at the door, and opened it, letting them enter first.

It was the first time Katsuki had been in the room with Deku since finding him in that building. His scent was in the air, but diffused, muddled. There still was a sour note to it, but not nearly as bad as it had been only a day before.

So close, the omega looked even worse. The window had made it all seem so unreal, as if he were looking into a television screen. Now, he was standing at the omega’s bed, holding their pup to his chest, and witnessing firsthand the horrors done.

Soon, the pup picked up on the scent of his omega, small squirms turning into thrashing as he tried to turn to see his mom, tried to get away from Katsuki.

“Mom! Mom!” The pup screamed, finally broke from Katsuki’s hand, turned, saw what was in front of them.

Immediately, the pup pressed himself back to Katsuki’s chest, staring at Deku wide-eyed. Katsuki ran his hand through the pup’s hair, pressed him even closer. It was easier to try to handle the pup then to look at Deku.

“Kazue asked earlier if it was okay for him to touch his mom.” Katsuki spoke, but he never turned away from the pup, kept looking for his reaction.

Luckily, Tanaka realized the question was for him. “Yes, of course, it’s all right. In fact, it might be good for Midoriya to have his pup nearby. Just be sure to be very gentle with him.” He paused, cleared his throat. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” he said, then shut the door.

They were very suddenly alone, him, the omega, and their pup.

It wasn’t the family reunion Katsuki would have wanted. But it was all they had.

Slowly, he stepped to Deku’s side, sat in one of the chairs next to his bed. Deku didn’t move. Machines were still breathing for him, still monitoring his heartbeat, still keeping him alive.

Katsuki pointed to these machines. “Do you see that? That’s your mom’s heart beating. It keeps track and makes sure your mom is doing okay. And that one making that weird noise is helping your mom to breathe correctly. So his heart is still beating and he’s still breathing, all right?” It was ridiculous, he knew, to try to explain everything by the damn machines hooked up to his mom. But he didn’t know how else to tell him that the doctor was doing everything he could to help the omega. He didn’t how to explain just what was happening.

And Kazue didn’t seem to care at all about those machines. His eyes were locked onto Deku, unmoving, pupils pinpoints.

When he finally did move, it was to push himself away from Katsuki, to slowly crawl across his lap to Deku’s bed.

Although Deku’s fingers were bandaged and his wrists heavily wrapped, Kazue pawed himself under the omega’s arm, rubbing at his wrist, trying to reach the smaller scent gland there, currently covered in bandages. He pressed himself to his omega’s side, curled up just under his arm.

“It’s okay,” he muttered, his voice so very small. “It’s okay now, Mommy.”

He lay there for several moments, shivering, until Katsuki reached over. He scooped the pup up, Kazue wiggling in his grip before the alpha nestled him right next to the omega’s neck. Immediately, Kazue rubbed his head to his mom’s neck, scenting him thoroughly. The room slowly filled with their combined scents, Kazue doing his best to comfort his mom just as much as he was gaining comfort from the unconscious omega.

Katsuki sat back and he watched, unsure of how he felt. He was happy to see son and mother reunited, but there was a bitter irony to it. Watching Kazue trying to reassure Deku was both heartwarming and heartbreaking. For the pup to think he had to comfort his omega tore at Katsuki’s nerves, but he didn’t know what else to do. This was their moment, after all, the moment that Kazue had been begging for. He needed to let this happen on their own terms.

“Why?”

The pup’s voice startled Katsuki as much as the question did, even more so when he realized one of the pup’s piercing red eyes was trained on him, demanding an answer of him. Why? How was he going to answer that question? Why did bad things happen to people? Why did people do bad things to other people? Why had this happened to his mom of all those people?

Feeling a snarl on his lips, Katsuki leaned forward and said, “Sometimes, bad things just happen to people. There’s no real reason or—”

“No,” the pup growled, low and vicious. Katsuki paused, felt a spike of intrigue from his alpha brain. Had… had this pup just challenged him? He forced that part of his brain to shut the hell up. Instead, he focused wholly on Kazue as the pup lifted himself just a little from his mom to glare at Katsuki. “Why do you smell so nice? Why do you smell different from the other alphas?”

As inevitable as this question was, as much as Katsuki had been anticipating it, he found himself completely unprepared to answer it. What did the pup know, what would he need to explain, how would he say it?

But it was too late for those questions. The time had come and now, he had to face it.

He started with a breath, with a stilling of his trembling fingers, with meeting the pup’s gaze without flinching.

“Do you know what it means when a pup says they have an alpha?”

Kazue didn’t move, staring at Katsuki. The uncomfortable tension was broken only by the continued beeping of Deku’s heart monitor and the ventilator breathing.

The pup curled back up around his omega protectively, said nothing, so Katsuki continued, “When a pup has an alpha, that alpha is the person who sired them. Whether their mother be an omega or beta or even another alpha, their true alpha is almost always their father. It’s the alpha’s job to protect and care for their family. So when a pup says they have an alpha, they have a person who protects and loves them.” He paused when Kazue just stared at him, unmoving. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The pup narrowed his eyes. “Mommy told me about alphas.”

“Did he tell you who your alpha is?”

Kazue growled, bore his teeth. “I don’t have an alpha. Nobody protected me but my Mommy.”

There was something painful about his words. Something painful for the pup, the realization that the only person who ever loved and protected him was now laying unconscious in a hospital bed, and something painful for Katsuki, to face the sheer, pure truth of the pup’s declaration.

Because he was right, of course.

So Katsuki lowered his chin slightly. “You do have a sire though. Everyone has a sire. A father.” Kazue tensed uneasily. Katsuki wondered if he’d figured it out yet. He was bright, but he was still a pup, and a traumatized one at that. The alpha glanced to Deku, wondered if this was the right time to be doing this.

The question still lingered in the air though. Why did Katsuki smell so nice?

The alpha took a breath. “The reason I smell so nice to you, Kazue, is because I’m your alpha. I sired you with Deku.”

Another silence.

Until, Kazue curled up around Deku. “You’re not my alpha.”

“As much as you might not believe me, I am—”

“NO!”

Katsuki jerked upright as something came flying at him. His hands came up just in time to catch Kazue as the pup careened into his chest, little fists smacking against him.

“No, no, no! You’re not my alpha! You aren’t!”

Katsuki tried to hold Kazue steady, let the pup continue to hit him. “Kazue, believe me, I know it’s surprising, but I really am.”

“NOO!”

The pup wailed and smacked Katsuki one more time, devolving quickly into crying. The door suddenly opened, shocking Katsuki so much he wrapped his arms around the pup, pressing him to his chest, and letting out a deep warning growl. Tanaka paused, halfway through the door. For the first time, he looked a little afraid of Katsuki.

“I heard the pup screaming… I thought maybe something had happened to his omega.”

Katsuki let his growling fade away, but kept Kazue pressed to his chest. The pup had gone very still, no longer hitting the alpha.

“We’re fine here. Kazue is just upset.”

“Ah, yes, well,” the doctor’s eyes flickered over the machines, over Deku, but there was nothing clearly wrong. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

He shut the door, leaving them alone once more. Katsuki glared after him, until Kazue stirred in his arms. He let the pup raise his head from his chest to stare up at him with water-lined, red eyes. For as much as he saw himself in Kazue, there was so much of Deku in there too. It wasn’t fair to see someone who reminded him so much of Deku now crying in his arms.

“Why?” The pup said again.

Katsuki ran his hand over Kazue’s back. “Why what?”

“Why didn’t you protect us?”

It was a fair question. Too fair. But it hurt more than Katsuki had ever hurt before.

He pressed the pup back to his chest. “I’m sorry, Kazue. I’m so sorry. You’re right, I didn’t protect you and I should have.” Was he the one shaking or was that his pup? “I’ve been… a terrible alpha. But I want to do better. I want to be better. I want to be an alpha you can be proud of.”

An alarm beeped suddenly, Katuski jerking upright to see Deku’s heart rhythm had changed. He cursed himself, realizing he’d been putting out a sour scent, probably subconsciously distressing the omega. As he reigned his scent in, Kazue leaped from Katsuki’s lap to Deku’s bed, curling around his scent gland one more time. Slowly, Deku’s heartbeat returned to its normal rhythm, the omega otherwise not reacting.

Katsuki couldn’t stop a growled curse from escaping his lips, putting his head in his hands, digging at his scalp. I did it again. I upset Deku.

What would he do if Deku woke up? How would he beg forgiveness? What would he do if Deku didn’t survive?

He let out a breath, found it filled his throat, made him choke. Something wet gathered on his face.

“Kazue, I’m sorry,” he said again, though the words were sticky and heavy and hard to form. “You don’t have to forgive me. I’m not asking that. But, please let me try. Let me try to be a good alpha for you and your mom. Please let me try to atone.”

It was ridiculous to ask such a thing of a pup. Would he even understand? Probably not.

But the words had to be said. Katuski had to ask, to beg, for himself. To try to start righting this wrong. As terrible of a wrong it was, he had to try to make it right. This was his fault, after all.

All his fault.

Something like a sob caught in his throat, made Katsuki quake in emotion he refused to show. Instead, he focused on not letting his scent go too sour, on not disturbing Deku. Deku needed to be calm, to recover, without Katsuki’s scent distressing him anymore. So he focused on this one task, this one thing he knew he could do.

His concentration broke when something small rested itself against his head. Slowly, he looked up, saw Kazue had reached across to pat him on the head. The pup looked like maybe he didn’t understand everything. It would be foolish to think he did. But he understood enough.

He rubbed Katsuki’s hair as Katsuki had done to him, as no doubt Deku had also done to him before. He didn’t say anything. But he rubbed Katsuki’s hair and he lent the alpha a little bit of the comfort he could offer.

Even if Katsuki didn’t really understand all of what it meant, he knew enough. Like his pup, who was slightly confused and befuddled, he also knew enough.

He knew this was the only way Kazue knew how to accept him, the only way he could tell the alpha that he would let him try.

He pressed toward the pup, felt a second hand brush into his hair, then the pup’s entire chest and head, resting on him. Kazue let out a little purr, buried himself in Katsuki’s hair, subconsciously let out a little bit more of his scent. His scent was calm, despite everything. Katsuki didn’t know how. But it was calm and soothing and one of the best scents Katsuki had ever smelled.

He didn’t move, not for a long time, letting his pup play in his hair, sitting next to the omega he had abandoned, not knowing if this was the way he atoned, but knowing he would try and try and try again, until he finally got it right.

Chapter Text

“Kacchan! Kacchan!”

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder, saw another pup racing for him from across the playground.

Izuku Midoriya was a strange pup. Katsuki had met him at their school, had quickly grown a fascination with him. There was something about him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he liked having the other pup around, so when Izuku called to him, he stopped, waited until he came to a stumbling stop beside him. He went to speak, then realized there were tears running down the other pup’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

Izuku jolted, glanced up at Katsuki, and wiped at his eyes with a little shake of his head. “Just… the other pups were being mean. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Katsuki set his teeth and growled. “They made you cry.”

The other pup wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I always cry. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Katsuki narrowed his eyes. Izuku looked a like uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. Undeterred, Katsuki stepped to his side and took his hand, surprising him. “Tell me what they said,” the pup demanded.

At first, Izuku looked away, shuffled his feet nervously. When he did, Katsuki rubbed his head against the other pup’s shoulder, as he sometimes did with his parents and they with him. It always made him feel a little better when they did that, and he saw it had a similar effect on the other pup, Izuku sinking into his feet and relaxing his shoulders away from his neck.

“They… said part of my name means “deku” and that it means useless. They said it was the prefect name for me.”

There was a part of Katsuki’s brain that growled and howled at what the other pup said. He wasn’t quite sure what to do about the noise in his head, so he growled as well, causing Izuku to shrink back. Realizing he’d scared his friend, he calmed, told his brain to just shut up.

“Well that’s stupid and they’re stupid,” he hissed. “And besides, it is a good name for you.”

The other pup jolted as if he’d been electrocuted, already starting to cry again. Katsuki quickly wiped at his tears.

“Deku means lots of things. It also means never giving up. And that’s perfect for you. You really are deku, you know?”

The other pup blinked at Katsuki, seemed to think over his words. Still, he didn’t stop crying until Katsuki took his hand again and told him he’d beat up the mean pups if that’s what it took to finally get him to be happy.

- - -

“Um, Kacchan?”

Katsuki jerked upright, his vision tunneled, focused only on the figure standing in front of him. He’d thought he was finally alone after ducking into an alley a couple blocks down from the school. The whispers of the crowd around him had died away, leaving him with only his thoughts, only the building sense of pressure in his chest. Alone, that pressure hadn’t eased any. Now, with someone standing right in front of him, it was building again, threatening to boil over.

And it didn’t help that he knew exactly who it was.

Katsuki growled at the omega, letting off an aggressive scent to scare him away. Deku paused, clearly noticing his aggression, but no doubt also seeing him struggle to keep himself together. Why was Deku even there? How had he found the alpha?

“Go away.” Katsuki growled.

Deku flinched, but didn’t move. “What happened?” He asked.

Katsuki roared to his feet. “I said go away! I don’t want you here!”

Again, Deku flinched away, looking hurt. Something squeezed Katsuki’s insides, but he refused to back down. He was an alpha, after all. He was the top of society, a leader, a ruler. No omega was going to disobey him, not even Deku.

“Go away, before I make you.”

“Kacchan, please,” Deku kept his voice low and calm. It was a wonder that he wasn’t crying.

Then again, Deku had never cried because of something Katsuki had done. The alpha had made sure never to cross that line, never to upset the omega. But now, in this moment, he thought he didn’t really care.

And still, the omega tried. “I can tell you’re upset. Let me help.”

“I don’t need your help!” Katsuki snapped his jaws, this time making the omega whimper. “Don’t make me hurt you!”

Deku didn’t move, though a little line of worry was deepening in his forehead. Instead, he shook his head. “You would never hurt me, Kacchan.”

It wasn’t a challenge. Not a real one.

And yet, something in Katsuki’s brain snapped, roared, boiled over in furious indignation.

Before he could think, he pushed himself off the wall, rushed toward the omega. Whatever he thought he was going to do, he skidded to a halt very suddenly, only inches away from him. Deku looked more than a little alarmed, shocked at the alpha’s reaction, scared. But he still hadn’t moved.

Katsuki let out a breath, felt the part of his brain that had taken over recede, leaving only him, standing there, fingers inches away from the omega. He gasped, stepped back. “I—” he swallowed, felt himself shaking. “I’m— I didn’t mean to—”

He stepped back again, stumbled, tripped, fell on his butt. He let out a snarl, trying to get back up, hearing Deku coming closer. Katsuki flinched away from the omega, afraid. Afraid?

Afraid of hurting him.

Don’t hurt omega. Protect omega. Make omega happy.

It was that voice. That voice Katsuki hated so much. Always telling him what to do. Making him feel crazy, out of control, willing to snap at anyone. Even at the omega that had always been at his side.

“Kacchan?” Deku’s voice was soft and soothing. Katsuki wouldn’t turn to face him.

Because he was looking away, he didn’t notice when Deku leaned in close, until he pressed to the alpha’s neck and let out a little of his calming scent. It washed over Katsuki, like sunlight, like fresh, hot summer nights, campfires and forests, tall grass.

“It’s all right, Kacchan. I promise, everything’s going to be okay.”

The omega wrapped his arms around Katsuki, held him tightly. Didn’t comment when Katsuki crumbled inward, when he gasped, then sobbed.

He didn’t even really remember why he was so upset. All he knew was that after a few minutes with Deku, it didn’t really matter anymore.

- - -

“Ah! Kacchan!”

He would have been mistaken to say he didn’t miss the omega, that seeing him standing there after so long apart made some part of his brain growl contently.

It’s only been a few days, chill out. Katsuki growled under his breath, stepped to the omega’s side, and immediately pressed his neck to the omega’s scent gland. It had been long enough that he couldn’t detect himself in the omega’s scent and that bothered him as much as he knew it probably bothered the omega.

They stood where they had agreed to meet, at the base of the mountain. It was a familiar mountain, one they had hiked many times before, one of Katsuki’s favorite trails. Despite it having been several months since they’d been able to go out on such an excursion, he was less excited about the hike and more about just seeing the omega again. It had been far too long.

Halfway through scenting him, Deku relaxed in Katsuki’s arms, purred happily.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said in the alpha’s ear.

Katsuki growled lowly. “It’s been too long.”

The omega laughed, pulled away. “Whose fault is that? You’re the one busy learning how to be a hero.”

Katsuki glowered, but he couldn’t disagree. Deku smiled at him, took his hand. Their fingers intertwined easily, as if they had always fit together. The omega tugged him along, Katsuki happy to follow him.

“C’mon! You have to tell me all about your classes. Since you won’t let me meet any of your classmates, you have to tell me what they’ve been up to, too.”

Again, Katsuki let out a little growl, pulled the omega a little closer. “I just don’t trust those idiots with you.”

Deku chuckled under his breath. “You know, I might be an omega, but I’m not fragile. You’d hate it if I was.”

“I couldn’t hate you,” Katsuki rubbed against the omega to reaffirm his words, then smirked, “but I won’t say it’s not kinda hot that you’re tougher than some of those morons.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Deku said, though he preened under Katsuki’s attention, as he always did.

“Not many omega out there would be wiling to spend a weekend hiking with me.” Katsuki said.

Deku shrugged. “I don’t really care about the hike as much as I’m just looking forward to spending some time with you.” The alpha growled his agreement, took the omega’s hand, and led him toward the start of the trail.

Katsuki was excited to be out of the city, to finally relax a little away from everything that had happened. The end of his first semester was approaching and the pressure was increasing. Katsuki wasn’t sure exactly what the next semester would bring, but after one hell of a start to his hero schooling, he wasn’t really looking forward to it. More like looking forward to it being over.

But he wasn’t going to think about it this weekend. This weekend, he was going to take Deku out and enjoy the beautiful scenery with him, enjoy just being with the omega for an extended period of time. Next semester, he knew he was only going to be busier, between internships, work studies, classes, and whatever else U.A. had up its sleeve. With Deku being enrolled at a different high school in town, it meant their schedules were unlikely to match up. So he’d enjoy this weekend, knowing it might be a while before he’d get another one.

At the base of the mountain, the trails were wide enough that they could walk side by side, Deku pulling information out of Katsuki slowly and patiently, but always enthusiastic about the fledgling heroes’ adventures. Halfway through the day, they stopped on a slope overlooking the city in the distance for lunch. Katsuki had packed some food he’d made that morning that had Deku salivating just at the smell.

They sat side by side, Deku leaning against the alpha’s shoulder, enjoying the quiet. With Deku focused on his food, he’d finally gone silent, no longer asking Katsuki about U.A. or any of his classmates. Instead, the omega was content to just eat his lunch an the alpha was happy to enjoy being at his side.

He did, however, have one thing to say. He cleared his throat to catch Deku’s attention. “My class has been talking about forming a pack after we’re done with school.”

The omega blinked. “A pack, huh? That would be a pretty big pack.”

Katsuki shrugged. “I don’t think everyone would actually join. There are some loners in the class.”

“Like you?” Deku poked him in the side, a little tease that he knew the alpha hated. Still, he didn’t stop when Katsuki growled at him. “A pack would be nice. There’s not too many of them around anymore. Kind of an antiquated thing. But they sound nice.”

Katsuki picked at some grass nearby. “It would be hell living with that many people.”

“Don’t you already kind of live with them all in the dorms?”

“Yeah, and it’s hell being around them all the time.”

Deku laughed, pressed a little closer to the alpha. “I don’t think you’re being truthful. Anyway, maybe because you’re all living together the idea is getting thrown out. Once graduation rolls around, who knows what’s going to happen.”

What’s going to happen.

Katsuki found himself staring down at Deku’s hand. His left hand. Ring finger. Still empty.

He picked up that hand, pressed his lips to that finger. Deku chirped happily, but Katsuki knew he didn’t understand the significance. He had his own plans for graduation. Who cared what the others were planning. Graduation was going to be special for the two of them. He’d make sure of it.

They packed up soon after, Katsuki slinging their bag over his back before peering up at the trail in front of them. It was too narrow to walk side by side and was a little more unsteady than the trail behind them.

He glanced back at Deku, who was checking to make sure they’d packed everything, and said, “I’ll go first. You stay behind me and be careful.”

The omega put his hands on his hips. “C’mon, Kacchan! We’ve hiked this trail before with no problems.”

“Right, and today’s not going to be the day that something does go wrong.”

Deku just laughed and followed after him.

Their plan was to hike to the next campsite, spend the night there, then hike back down the next day. It wasn’t an uncommon trip for them. They’d never had an incident in all the times they’d done this.

In hindsight, Katsuki would probably say that was why he wasn’t expecting anything too drastic to happen.

He was so focused on the road ahead of them, focused on looking for dangers to Deku in front of them, that he missed the sudden shifting of the earth behind him, until he heard the omega cry out and it was far too late.

He whipped around, saw only a flail of limbs as the ground slid out from under Deku and carried him down the cliff.

“DEKU!” Without thinking, Katsuki flew after him, his palms bright with explosions, his own safety forgotten as he watched the omega crash into the ground and heard his sudden and piercing scream of pain. In an instant, he was beside Deku, cradling him in his arms. “Are you all right? Tell me where you’re hurt.”

The omega whimpered, clinging to Katsuki’s jacket. “My-my leg.”

Katsuki didn’t really need to be told. Deku’s leg was sticking out at the wrong angle, as well as his ankle. There were also a few cuts along his arms and on his cheek from the fall down, but the leg was the most concerning. Katsuki knew there were veins and arteries in a person’s leg that could easily be cut by shattered bone, causing the victim to bleed out in minutes. If that happened, it would take him more than just a few minutes to blast them both off the mountain and back to the city, enough time to cause Deku a lot of pain and potentially kill him.

The thought had Katsuki seeing red, but he knew he couldn’t let that stop him. He reached for his phone, cursed when he realized he had no service. The omega was shivering, maybe from shock, and was letting off a horribly sour smell.

“It’s all right, Deku. I’m here, I’m here,” Katsuki tried to comfort the omega, rubbing against him, holding him tightly, but with how much pain he was in, there was little he could actually do. “Dammit.”

“K-Kacchan?”

Katsuki pulled the omega closer to him, reached for a plan, any plan. He had to do something. He couldn’t just stay here with Deku, letting him suffer. But what was there to do? What could he do in this moment, right now, to fix this?

He’d just decided that he would have to risk hurting Deku to at least get him within cell phone range when a voice called out to them. Looking up, Katsuki saw more hikers back up on the trail.

“Are you two all right?” Someone shouted down at them.

As much as Katsuki was loathe to reveal their vulnerable state to potentially dangerous people, he didn’t have a choice. “My omega is hurt! Call for rescue! Tell them his leg is broken!”

“Kacchan?” The omega said again, Katsuki growling quietly, rubbing against the omega to try and calm him.

“Help is on the way, Deku. Just hold on, all right? You’ll be okay.”

Deku curled himself closer to Katsuki, still shivering in pain. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

“’S not your fault. Shitty trail should have been better looked after. I should have realized it was too dangerous.”

“Y-yeah,” Deku flinched, then, a careful smile spread over his face. “Wouldn’t it be funny if one of your classmates came to help us?”

Katsuki let out a low growl. “Only one of those losers would be useful, but it’s not like any of us have been able to do any real hero work yet.”

“Oh, I see.” The omega whined suddenly, gripping Katsuki tightly.

The alpha searched for something to do to comfort the omega, but couldn’t think of anything more he could do. He was distracted by more shouting, looking up to the other hikers on the cliff. One of them had a radio they were speaking into, though they paused when Katsuki looked up at them.

“They’re on their way! We’re going to try to get down to you!”

“Don’t bother, we’re fine here. Just make sure rescue can reach us.” Katsuki growled. As much as he wanted to get Deku help, he didn’t want these extras to fall and get hurt too.

“It’s all right! We’ll be careful!” Almost immediately, one of the hikers slipped, sliding a few feet down the cliff.

On instinct, Katsuki nearly leaped to his feet. “Hey! Don’t just—” A hand gripped Katsuki’s arm so tightly, he thought it might draw blood.

When he looked down at the omega, he saw panicked, wide eyes, water flowing down freckled cheeks, shallow breaths causing a small tremble in tightly pulled lips.

“Pl-please,” Deku breathed out, gasped for air, dug his fingers into Katsuki’s arm a little deeper, “please don’t leave me.”

The small part of Katsuki’s brain that he often times ignored swelled. It spread like an infection, claiming all of his headspace, the voice he often drowned out roaring loudly, demanding him act.

PROTECT OMEGA! OMEGA IS HURT! SAVE OMEGA!

But there was nothing he could do. They had to wait. Wait for help. Wait for rescue. Katsuki couldn’t help his omega.

Slowly, he pulled the omega back to his chest, let out a breath that felt hot and thin. He felt himself starting to gasp for air as well, held his mouth shut to stop himself from hyperventilating. He couldn’t lose control. Not now. Not when Deku needed him. Not when he needed all his wits about him to help rescue the omega. Not now.

Omega hurt. Protect omega. Save omega. Alpha must make omega better.

Again, Katsuki gasped, curled in around Deku. His sour scent was overwhelming, making Katsuki feel like he was going to be sick, like he couldn’t breathe, like he couldn’t even think.

“Kacchan?”

Deku’s voice pulled a little at Katsuki’s brain, but not enough to silence the voice, not enough to yank him free of his instincts. They were telling him to help Deku, but there was nothing he could do to help. He couldn’t protect him now that he was already hurt, he couldn’t save him without risking further harm, and he couldn’t make Deku feel any better because he couldn’t just make the pain go away.

He couldn’t do anything.

Nothing.

A sweet, gentle scent cut through the distress.

Katsuki blinked, blinked again, realized that a couple of the hikers had finally gotten to them, were standing a few feet away. He also realized that he was hunched over Deku, the remnants of a snarl on his face, his teeth bared threateningly, his arms around his omega. That sweet smell, every now and then soured by the lingering taste of distress, was coming from Deku. The omega had placed both his hands on Katsuki’s face, had turned his chin to face him, was trying to smile at Katsuki through the pain.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me, Kacchan. I’ll be okay.” He flinched again, buried himself into Katsuki’s chest. “Just… please hold me.”

There was almost nothing Katsuki could deny Deku. Knowing the omega was trying to hold his scent back so not to negatively affect him, even while in so much pain, there was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t have done for Deku in that moment.

He curled up around the omega, comforted him as best he could, as the hikers carefully stepped closer, crowded in around them, tried to help. But, like Katsuki, they could do very little other than wait for someone to come get them.

Rescue came in the form of heroes, who used a combination of Quirks and equipment to get Deku and Katsuki off the mountain and to waiting paramedics. The entire time, Katsuki found himself in a daze, unable to do anything but to stay at Deku’s side and watch as everything else happened around him.

When they were finally back in the city, when Katsuki was standing over Deku as he was loaded onto a stretcher, he saw the omega reach for him and immediately took his hand. Deku smiled at him, the tremble gone from his lip, his scent still a muddled mix of calming pheromones and soured distress.

But he smiled at Katsuki and said, “Please… stay with me?”

There was nothing Katsuki could deny the omega. He snapped and snarled at the paramedics until they threatened to sedate him, eventually switching to conventional methods by simply asking to ride in the ambulance with the omega. The paramedics agreed, as long as he kept himself under control.

For Deku, he sat in that ambulance and ignored the paramedics as they worked, focused solely on the omega. Whenever he whimpered or whined in pain, Katsuki leaned in to comfort him. Every time he did, Deku relaxed a little, seemed a little more content with the alpha at his side.

Good alpha. Protect omega. Provide for omega.

Even if it wasn’t enough, it was all Katsuki could do.

He stayed with Deku right up until they had to wheel him away for X-rays, then he was forced to separate himself from the omega, pained when he heard Deku whining for him.

He called Deku’s mom, paced the waiting room, growled at anyone who dared to approach. When he was finally allowed to return to the omega’s side, he did so immediately. He was there when it was decided Deku would need surgery, he was there when the omega was wheeled away, he was there to help comfort Deku’s mother, and most importantly, he was there to comfort the omega after surgery.

Still out of it from the drugs, the omega was whimpering and whining when the doctors rolled him back into his room. As soon as they had locked his gurney in place, Katsuki crossed the room, felt unashamed as he rubbed against Deku’s neck, releasing his scent. The omega responded almost instantly, calming right down, settling in restful sleep.

Katsuki stayed at his side, comforting him whenever he whimpered, easing Inko’s worries when she voiced them, doing whatever he could to make everything better.

When Deku woke, Katsuki was the first person he saw, and the alpha was met with a small smile, a thankful gleam in the omega’s eyes. Katsuki leaned in to rub against him, to growl protectively, to reassure him that everything would be okay. He was there, after all. He would make everything okay, one way or another.

- - -

“Oi, Deku.”

The omega startled, whipping around and drawing his hands up as if to defend himself. Which was ridiculous. Only one person ever called him Deku, after all, and he had said person to defend him from any idiot who might try anything stupid.

And so, the omega quickly calmed, settling down as Katsuki took a seat next to him.

They sat on a hillside, a familiar place, one he and Deku had spent many nights at before. The city rolled out below them, its lights muddling the stars above. Still, the stars they could see gleamed as they always had, unchanging since their childhood.

It was a beautiful spot, though its beauty wasn’t the reason Katsuki was drawn here time and time again. This place had remained Deku’s favorite since they’d first found it years and years, the omega spending so many nights stargazing on this exact hill. Almost every night where you could see the stars, Deku could be found there, staring up into the sky.

And so, Katsuki wasn’t surprised to find him there. It was always the first place he checked.

Conversely, Deku tilted his head curiously at Katsuki. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, obviously,” the alpha grumbled. “Classes ran late and by the time they let us go, I had nowhere to be, so I figured I’d find you here.”

“What about being busy at that between semester camp you talked about?”

Katsuki growled deeply. “Canceled. Something about a security risk. Which is stupid.”

As he grumbled, Deku hummed quietly, leaned against the alpha, nuzzled into his neck. Katsuki wrapped an arm around him and drawing him even closer, savoring the smell of summer.

“Well, if there really was something dangerous, I’m glad they canceled it,” the omega said. “I want you to be safe.”

“I’m going to be a hero, Deku. Safety is a relative term.”

A little spike of sadness seeped from the omega. Katsuki glanced down at him, saw his smile wither. In response, the alpha intertwined their fingers, squeezing him to his side.

“Don’t worry about me. You know I’m not going to lose to some dumb villains.”

“Right,” Deku muttered.

There was a beat between them, a silence that Katsuki tried to fill by running his hand up the omega’s side, trying to get him to relax again.

Eventually, Deku purred, though Katsuki could tell it wasn’t his usual happy purr. “So, are you going to be around until the school year starts?” The omega asked.

He nodded. “I’ve asked for permission to spend some time home. What about you?”

“I’ve got three weeks off, but I’ve also got a lot of schoolwork I have to do before the new year.”

“Hmm, well,” Katsuki tilted his chin toward the omega, “I guess I’ll have to take advantage of whatever time we have.”

The alpha let out some of his pheromones, enjoyed the immediate reaction from the omega, who melted against him, purred a little deeper, a little more contented.

“I wouldn’t disagree,” Deku muttered, rubbed his cheek against the alpha.

There was a demand in his reaction that had Katsuki growling, wrapping Deku up and pressing him back against the hill. The omega lay quiet underneath him, eyes closed, let the alpha cage him between his arms, let him growl possessively, and release more of his pheromones. As soon as the omega looked a little too relaxed, Katsuki opened his mouth, messaged his canines against the omega’s scent gland, careful not to break skin. The omega jolted, grabbed onto Katsuki, gave a bit of a growl himself as the alpha teased him.

“Alpha,” the omega panted, then gasped as Katsuki nosed at his neck.

He leaned right into the omega’s ear and growled, “You want me, Deku?”

Deku purred, tightened his arms around Katsuki, pulled him closer, too close to do anything more. “Don’t be cute. You know I’m still in school.” Katsuki’s growl deepened, his own demands and grievances in his voice. “Kacchan.”

“I know,” Katsuki grumbled. He lifted himself off the omega, just enough to look him in the eyes. “It’s just… I want to be a good alpha to you.”

Deku chuckled, pulled him back into his scent gland. “You’re the best alpha. Treat me so good.”

At the affirmation, Katsuki’s growls faded slightly, the alpha turning his attention back to his omega’s neck. He pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin, enjoyed the little shivers of the body beneath him as he sucked at Deku’s scent gland. Deku smelled like summer. He tasted like honey.

“Mmm,” Deku hummed again, “Kacchan?” Katsuki growled, listening closely but still working the omega’s scent gland. “Kiss me already, wont’ you?”

Again, the alpha growled lowly, let the vibrations in his chest excite the omega more. Deku reciprocated with a purr that pulled Katsuki’s attention away after one final lick at his neck.

He swallowed Deku’s lips, hungrily bit at the omega’s tongue, had him moaning and quivering in only a few seconds. As much as Katsuki wanted to press the omega for more, he knew their limits. Until they’d both graduated, this was all they’d have. But soon, in just a couple of years, he’d have Deku more than just writhing under him.

He’d make the omega feel like a king.

Only a couple more years.

Katsuki growled again, felt his own body start to shake when Deku pressed back against him, challenged him, demanded and took exactly what he wanted.

It was their familiar song and dance, but one they were happy to play out. Eventually though, Deku pulled back from Katsuki, panted, “Stop, stop,” and Katsuki reluctantly rolled off him.

He hadn’t gone far before the omega was chasing after him, nuzzling into his side, purring happily. Seeing Deku contented, Katsuki felt himself settling, even if he was still a little unsatisfied. His alpha brain was telling him to take the omega just as much as he suspected Deku’s omega brain was telling him to let himself be taken.

But it was okay and Deku was right. Statistics be damned, they didn’t want to have to try to raise a pup while Deku was in school full time and Katsuki was in hell training to be a hero. He knew that conventional birth control could lower Deku’s already abysmal chance of bearing pups, so they’d decided long ago it wasn’t worth the risk. Katsuki was okay with this. Even if it did leave him a bit uncomfortable in the moments afterward.

He did have a bit of solace when he glanced over and caught the frustrated look on the omega’s face before he buried himself back into Katsuki’s neck.

Katsuki let him, released some of his scent to calm Deku, to settle him after he’d put out so much of his alpha pheromones. Deku’s own omega scent was still in the air, but slowly it was being replaced by the calm breezes of summer once again. Katsuki clung to this scent as he gazed upward, into the same sky he’d stared at for so many years.

“Hey, Deku?” He asked, receiving only a hum in return. “Why do you like this hill so much? I know I could find you a better stargazing spot. Somewhere the city lights aren’t so bad.”

The omega growled at the suggestion, his lack of words telling the alpha that he was still caught up in the excitement of their encounter. Katsuki rolled toward him, wrapped him up, pressed the omega to his scent gland, and let off his calming scent. Slowly, Deku unwound, falling limp against him, letting himself be scooped up into the alpha’s lap.

When he opened his eyes, they turned up to the stars, searching between each of them. Katsuki suspected that if he asked, Deku could name each of those stars.

Finally, the omega said, “Well, I know this sky best and when I see it, I remember that no matter where you and I are, we’re still under these same stars. Even if we’re far apart or I haven’t seen you in a long time, I know these stars can see you and I can see them. As long as we’re on this earth, we’ll always have this sky keeping us together.”

Katsuki listened. He listened closely, as he did to most things Deku said. Sometimes, he found himself learning a lot from the omega. Sometimes, he just enjoyed hearing his voice.

When the omega finished speaking, he scoffed. “How poetic.”

He grunted when Deku elbowed him in the chest. “Be nice, alpha,” he growled, which had Katsuki grumbling and nuzzling his neck apologetically. “It’s something that keeps me going. Besides, it’s beautiful out here.”

To that, Katsuki couldn’t disagree. Though perhaps, he and Deku might disagree on exactly where that beauty lay. To Deku, it was in the sky, the stars. To Katsuki, it was what lay beneath them.

He nuzzled against the omega, let out a satisfied growl, and settled quietly when the omega answered with a loving purr.

- - -

Kazue was so exhausted by everything that by the time Tanaka said they had to leave, he was too tired to put up a fuss.

The nurse did provide them with a new blanket she carefully wiped on Deku’s scent gland for Kazue, Katsuki once again tucking it around the pup’s neck for comfort. As soon as he did, Kazue fell to sleep and slept the entire way home, leaving Katsuki to his thoughts. Thoughts he didn’t really want to think about.

Why am I remembering all this crap now?

But he knew why. He knew why he was thinking so much of his past with Deku. How could he not, after all? He’d suppressed these memories for so long, refused to acknowledge them as part of his past. There was no way they weren’t going to come roaring back after finding the omega again.

Still, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t recognized that sour scent from when Deku had broken his leg. That smell had haunted him so weeks. Then again, both Uraraka’s and Yaoyorozu’s scents had changed somewhat after the birth of their pups. Maybe that was just a thing that happened.

He snapped his jaws, tried to think of something else, but there wasn’t much else to think about. He wondered briefly over who must have picked up his patrol, but decided he didn’t really care that much and to be honest, he knew the answer already. Shoji had had the day off, so chances were he’d taken Katsuki’s shift without complaint.

What was more concerning was the fact that Katsuki was scheduled nearly every day for the next ten days. With Deku out of commission for at least a few days, he would have to work with the pack to cover those patrols. As much as he didn’t want to give up his hero work, he knew Kazue needed him now more than ever, especially if his omega were to take a sudden turn for the worse. And maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for him to be out fighting villains and rescuing people in his current mental state either. Though he’d never admit that out loud to anyone.

When they arrived at the packhouse, Kazue was still sleeping, the pup barely moving when Katsuki took him from his car seat. He was dreading entering the house, dreading the moment he’d have to explain all that had happened in the hospital, dreading facing the pack with the news he carried.

Despite that, he was, in fact, not very happy to open the door and find the rest of the pack was, indeed, much too distracted to even realize he was home.

Most of the pack was yelling as loudly as they could at one another, both pups were crying in their playpen in the corner, and Iida had Kirishima in possibly the worst headlock Katsuki had ever seen. The betas were crowded around their head beta and pack alpha, though none of them seemed eager to pull them apart, only screaming back and forth between one another and the two fighting in front of them. Uraraka stood nearby, also yelling, though at who, Katsuki couldn’t tell. Tsu and Jiro were trying to comfort the pups, who were inconsolable no matter what the omegas did. And Yaoyorozu stood in the middle of it all, her head in her hands.

From his seat on the couch, Todoroki watched Katsuki enter the house and pause, taking in the chaos. The other alpha took a sip from his teacup before carefully setting it on the table in front of him.

“Welcome back, Bakugo.”

Although Todoroki didn’t try to raise his voice over the madness, everyone stilled all at once and turned toward Katsuki and Kazue. Even the pups went quiet.

There was an awkward pause as everyone stared back and forth between each other, until Yaoyorozu suddenly squealed.

“Is this your pup? He’s so adorable!”

“I told you, Yaomomo!” Uraraka and the female alpha were very suddenly standing right in front of them, cooing over the somehow still-sleeping Kazue.

“Oh my goodness! He looks just like you, Bakguo!”

“Yeah,” Jiro had joined them, for some reason. “Who knew Bakugo could look so cute?”

“Oi!” The alpha jerked to life for the first time.

From beyond the girls, he heard Kirishima call out, “Hey! Welcome home, buddy!”

Immediately, Iida was shaking the beta again. “Don’t you dare try to distract from the subject at hand! I can’t believe you actually—”

The noise started up again as Kazue stirred on Katsuki’s chest. The pup lifted his head, stared out to all the people around him, paused for a moment as the girls oooh’d and aaah’d. Then, he collapsed back onto Katsuki’s chest, simply watching the chaos around them.

Katsuki saw all of this, felt resigned to the fact that, yes, this was still his life.

“You are a bunch of fucking morons.”

“Bakugo! Not in front of the pups!”

“Really? That’s what you’re worried about? What are you idiots even doing?”

“Ah! Bakugo! I require your aid as second in command, immediately!”

“Hey now, don’t listen to him! He’s got the wrong idea! It was just a little misunderstanding, a little mistake!”

Katsuki didn’t have the lung capacity to sigh as heavily as he wanted to.

Chapter Text

“Well? How is Midoriya?”

It had taken a full hour, but the packhouse was finally quiet. All three pups had been put down for a nap and everyone had settled significantly. Now, the pack was gathered around the dining table, sharing some food together. It wasn’t a full meal, but a few of the pack members had gotten together to make snacks for everyone while they waited for Katsuki’s return. Katsuki hadn’t even realized that he and Kazue had spent all morning at the hospital, with Tanaka telling them that Deku wouldn’t be available for visiting hours until tomorrow. He still had a couple cosmetic surgeries to go through, including to fix his broken tooth.

The idea of an alpha breaking one of Deku’s teeth still bit at a nerve in Katsuki. Omega canine teeth were smaller than alpha teeth, but they were also denser. While it wasn’t unnecessarily common for alpha to break their canine, the longer alpha teeth were known to shatter under enough strain. Many alpha heroes and villains were known to have broken teeth, a mark of their chosen trade. But to break an omega’s tooth? That required more effort, a more deliberate act. Katsuki didn’t think he’d ever seen an omega break their teeth before, in all his years as a hero.

It was just another thing to consider, another terrible injury wrecked upon the omega, another thing for Katsuki to bristle in fury over, another story to tell his packmates as they gathered around him at the dinner table.

He didn’t speak only of Deku’s broken tooth, but also of him being placed in a medically-induced coma, of his many injuries, his generally bleak prognosis. The more he spoke, the more the snacks on the table were forgotten. As he hissed and growled over what had befallen the omega, the pack closed in around him, all of them trying to lend their comfort through their presence and their scent. Kirishima even dared take Katsuki’s wrist and rub the scent gland there. Although the gland on his wrist was smaller, it still warmed Katsuki to have contact with the beta.

But it wasn’t enough.

Katsuki still faced losing Deku. Nothing his pack could do would change that.

When he grew quiet, Iida intertwined his fingers, stared over his fists with an intensity that spoke to his focus. “If Midoriya is as seriously injured as you say, then we must find the alpha responsible and bring him to justice.”

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima leaped up from beside Katsuki and rammed his fists together, his hardened skin sending off sparks. “No way we’re going to let someone like that run around!”

Katsuki hadn’t allowed himself to think much of the alpha still being on the loose. He hadn’t had much time to think between worrying about Deku and caring for Kazue to remember that the person responsible for what had happened to them was out there, free and living his life. As much as he wanted to blast through the window and out onto the street to start looking for him, he knew he couldn’t do that. Not yet at least. He needed to see Deku recovered or to his end and he needed to deal with the aftermath with Kazue. Until that happened, he simply wasn’t going to be able to join the search.

That being said, he wasn’t opposed to the idea of his pack searching out the alpha for him. They might even let him in on the takedown if they found where he was hiding.

That was more than he could say about the police.

“Speaking of,” Katsuki said, glancing to each of his packmates, “shouldn’t some of you be on patrol?”

Yaoyorozu nodded. “The pack’s been riled up since this morning after you left. We were all too anxious to hear about Midoriya’s condition and we needed to be here to support you if the worst happened.” She nodded to Todoroki, who caught her look and narrowed his eyes. “Some of us are still scheduled to go out tonight, but we’ve set up a basic schedule that keeps one alpha, besides yourself, in the packhouse at all times, to reassure everyone and to keep Kazue safe.”

“Kazue?” Katsuki muttered. “What would you be keeping him safe from?”

“From the alpha, of course.” Todoroki spoke with no mind to the tension that snapped through the pack after his words.

From the alpha?

Katsuki hadn’t even considered that the alpha may come after Deku or Kazue again. They still didn’t really know why he had taken both of them to begin with, so there was nothing to tell them he might not come after them again.

A spark lit in Katsuki’s palm. He willed himself not to think about that, willed himself to listen to his packmates as the conversation continued around him.

“It’s not like any of us can’t defend the pup and the pack ourselves,” Shoji pointed out. “Why keep an alpha here specifically?”

“It’s mostly a territorial check,” Todoroki deadpanned. “If the alpha who attacked Kazue and Midoriya is listening to his instincts more, he’ll be less likely to try to attack the house if he smells an alpha nearby. It’s got nothing to do with how capable each of us are at defending the house, it’s more to do with deterring any attacks in the first place.”

“Correct. But we’ll still be asking any pack members not on patrol to be mindful of who’s in the house and whether there are enough to keep the pack reinforced,” Iida continued. “We’ve never faced a threat directly to any of our pack members like this, so we have to be cautious on how we react. We can’t let it cloud our judgment too much, but we also must be mindful of our safety.”

“Ahh, no worries!” Mina suddenly leaped to her feet, showing off her biceps and grinning proudly. “We can take ‘em! We’ve never let the villains get away!”

“Yeah!” Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima all leaped up and joined her in posing. Only Shoji remained seated, his eyes tilted downward in clear resigned acceptance.

As much as Katsuki wanted to call them all idiots again, he held back. Truth be told, he was tired. And not bone-tired like he sometimes became after long hours on patrol or after a particularly grueling encounter with a villain. He was simply tired, aching to lay down with his pup and rest, despite knowing he simply couldn’t do that.

There was a lot to do, a lot to plan. And after Kazue had had his first encounter with the entire pack, Katsuki knew they had to capitalize on it. He even hadn’t reacted badly to Yaoyorozu standing so close to him. He didn’t know if it was because she was a female alpha with a distinct smell or if he’d grown used to her smell from the clothes she’d bought. Bought and not made, as she’d quickly clarified when Katsuki had suggested the latter. The pups had also seen him as well, with Fumiko asking after the new pup when Uraraka tried to put her down for a nap. So they couldn’t avoid everyone finally meeting him. Katsuki had to prepare himself and Kazue for that moment. The alpha wasn’t sure what to expect, but he’d have to be careful not to overwhelm him. After everything that had happened, things were moving very quickly for the little pup, and he was cautious of upsetting him by the breakneck pace at which life was determined to carry them through. However, he knew once everyone had been introduced and the pup finally settled in, they would have a much easier time around the packhouse. They just had to get over this last hurdle.

As wrapped up in his thought as he was, Katsuki still lifted his head when he heard Yaoyorozu ask, “What about the police? Have they contacted you with more information?”

The alpha snorted. “No, and I haven’t asked.” Kaminari lifted his head, opened his mouth, but stopped when Katsuki growled at him. “Been a little too busy to follow up.”

“It’s all right,” Iida said, putting a hand on Kaminari’s shoulder. “I’m sure if they had something, they would tell you.”

Katuski wasn’t so sure about that, remembering only Ito’s shocked expression as he marched Kazue out of the interview room.

In fact, he was a little surprised he hadn’t been contacted about bringing Kazue in for another interview with the psychiatrist. As much as he wasn’t looking forward to hearing more about what Kazue had been through, he knew at this moment the pup was their only lead. Perhaps the police didn’t have anything to report because Katsuki was keeping their only witness from them. He growled, resigned himself to contacting Ito if only to get an update, to see if they needed more information from the pup at all, knowing full well they did.

“Ah!” Uraraka stood very suddenly, the entire table turning to see what had caught her attention.

In the doorframe, a single, red eye was peering at them from around the corner.

Katsuki sighed, stood, and went to the pup as the rest of the pack stayed very still, as if they didn’t really know what to do.

“C’mere. Why aren’t you sleeping?” Kazue reached for Katsuki as he approached, the alpha picking him up and pressing him to his chest. Although he slipped into his now well-worn spot against Katsuki’s heart, the pup remained tense, glaring into the dining room.

He let out a low, little growl, muttered into Katsuki’s shoulder, “Alpha.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, glanced to his pack. Although Todoroki hadn’t outwardly reacted, both Iida and Yaoyorozu gazed sadly at the little pup. Kazue huddled closer to Katsuki as the alpha sighed deeply.

“They aren’t going to hurt you, Kazue. They’re part of my pack. You met Yaoyorozu earlier.”

The pup glanced skeptically up at him, returned his glare to the other alphas. There was an uncomfortable silence, broken only by a low rumble from the pup as he glared at the alphas, until Kirishima suddenly jumped up.

“You remember me, kiddo?”

Kazue’s expression cleared, blinking curiously at the beta. “Red Riot.”

“Yup! That’s me! You can call me Kirishima though.” He stepped a little closer, Kazue eying him cautiously. “Aren’t you supposed to be taking a nap?”

Kazue’s fists twisted in Katsuki’s shirt. He mumbled something into the alpha’s shoulder, Katsuki only catching the word “alone.”

“What’s that? I didn’t quite hear you,” Kirishima put a hand to his ear, turning toward the pup expectantly.

The pup squirmed, trying to twist away from the beta, but Katsuki held him still. With one more glance at the rest of the pack, none of whom had dared to move from the dining table, he muttered, “It’s scary being alone.”

Katsuki’s heart shuddered in his chest, freezing him in place, but Kirishima just said, “Aww! Well, do you want me to stay with you? I could use a nap right about now, too!”

At the suggestion, Kazue fully buried himself into Katsuki’s shoulder, shivering slightly, but after only a few moments, his shaking stopped and he glanced out to Kirishima one more time.

Capitalizing on the pup’s uncertain response, Katsuki put a hand to his back and said, “C’mon. Let’s go back up to the room.” He began toward the staircase, paying no mind when the beta followed after them.

Although he had no idea if Kirishima actually intended to stay with the pup while he slept, at least being near the beta would help acclimate him to the rest of the betas and to the pack as well. Being head beta, Kirishima often took on the scents of the other pack members, being the one more likely to be interacting with every single pack member on any given day. He even still smelled a bit like Iida from their earlier confrontation, but his beta scent was beginning to muddle it a bit. Chances were, Kazue wouldn’t be able to detect that it was an alpha scent he smelled on the beta. So it wasn’t a terrible idea letting Kirishima stay with Kazue for a little while.

Now, whether Katsuki trusted the beta with his pup or not was another issue entirely.

He was still considering the pros and cons of the idea as they walked into Katsuki’s room, the alpha crossing to the nest still on his bed. The new blanket from the hospital was laying on top, the first blanket tucked into the nest, nearly forgotten. Katsuki made sure to press the fresh blanket to Kazue’s neck, the pup burying himself in his omega’s scent.

When he glanced over his shoulder, Kirishima was waiting at the door.

He let out a short growl, set Kazue in the nest. “I have to talk to my pack a little more; I can’t stay in here while you nap, but you need to get some sleep.”

Kazue squirmed, suddenly launched himself from the nest to grab the alpha. “You said you’re supposed to protect me.” He growled.

Katsuki had, on more than one occasion admittedly, felt the hot pain of a blade being stabbed through his skin. It was an unfortunate hazard of the job, one that the alpha had accepted long ago. He’d readied himself for that pain. Somehow, Kazue’s words were a different kind of pain than one he’d ever prepared himself for. The closest he could equate it to was having a knife twisted through his flesh.

He crouched to be eyelevel with the pup, saw water had started to gather in his eyes. “I know,” he brought his voice low, quiet, just for Kazue to hear, “and I will. But here, you’re safe. Nobody in the pack would ever hurt you.” Kazue narrowed his eyes, no doubt remembering that he’d smelled alphas in the house. “Do you remember playing with the omegas?”

Immediately, the pup’s eyes brightened. “Yeah!”

“And you had fun?”

“Yup!”

“Do you think they’d ever hurt you?”

Kazue pouted. “No way!”

“Well, the rest of my pack is like that. They just want you to be safe and happy.”

Even after his words, the pup still looked uncertain, moving a little closer to him when Katsuki stood. Realizing he wasn’t going to be able to leave him alone, Katsuki glanced over his shoulder, nodded Kirishima in.

The beta stepped carefully to the bed, smiling at the pup as he approached. Kazue watched him, snuck just a little closer to Katsuki. Katsuki ran his hand through the pup’s hair, didn’t react when Kirishima sat at the foot of the bed.

“I’ll stay with you while you nap. That way, you won’t be alone!” He smiled brightly, his cheer admittedly infectious, even to Katsuki.

However, Kazue still hesitated, glanced up at Katsuki for reassurance. When the alpha nodded encouragingly, the pup crossed to Kirishima, paused to sniff the air around him experimentally. He stiffened, tilted his head, perhaps catching a whiff of the pack alpha still on him.

But Kirishima smiled and said, “It’s all right! I’ll just stay right here. You can sleep in your nest.”

The pup looked back toward his nest, a bit surprised, as if he’d forgotten it was there. For a moment, he stared at it, unmoving. Then, he growled shortly, walked over to Kirishima. The beta raised his hands, flustered, as the pup curled up on his chest, pressing his ear to his heart. Kirishima remained stiff and unmoving, glancing between Kazue and Katsuki, but as the pup settled, he brought his hands down, cradled Kazue to his chest. The pup snuggled a little deeper into Kirishima’s shirt, closed his eyes.

Both Kirishima and Katsuki were very still, watching the pup’s reaction. However, he stayed cuddled into Kirishima’s shirt, seemingly already asleep. Katsuki grunted, stepped to the beta’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He leaned in very close and hissed, “If you upset my pup, I’ll kill you.”

Kirishima blinked at him, then smiled. “Aw, c’mon, Kats! You know all the pups love me!”

Katsuki clicked his jaw threateningly, but stood and went to the door. He glanced over his shoulder one more time, saw the beta running his hand over his pup’s back, soothing him, and left the room.

Downstairs, he found the pack had scattered. The betas were in the kitchen cleaning up while the omegas, Iida, and Todoroki were heading upstairs. Yaoyorozu waited for Katsuki at the bottom, offering a tentative smile to the other alpha. Although she was trying to look happy, Katsuki could detect a bit of sorrow around her still. He knew why. The female alpha was very sensitive to the pups of the pack, having taken a lead role in caring for Fumiko as well as for her own pup. No doubt Kazue’s rejection would affect her most, especially after he’d had no reaction to her earlier in the day. She must have taken it as the pup accepting her when the truth was Kazue was probably just overwhelmed with everything happening to realize she was an alpha. His familiarity with both Jiro’s and Uraraka’s scent had probably helped too.

If he was being honest, there was nothing Katsuki could say to comfort her. Things weren’t going to get better overnight. She was just going to have to accept that Kazue was going to take some time to come around to her. There was no other choice.

“Where’s everyone going?” Katsuki asked.

Yaoyorozu glanced up the stairs, seemed to follow everyone to their bedrooms. “Like we said earlier, some of the pack are still going out on patrol. Their shifts are coming up.” She reached into her pocket, drew out a few pieces of folded paper, handing them to Katsuki. “We’ve rearranged schedules with the agency. If Midoriya is going to be in the hospital for a few more days, we’ll make sure to cover your shifts so you can take care of things with your pup.”

Katsuki unfolded the paper, saw it was a rough sketch of their schedules. The agency they worked at was technically an off-shoot of Iida’s family agency, consisting entirely of the pack, a few sidekicks, and some of their other former classmates. While Iida ran his family’s agency, he worked closely with the pack agency to best schedule sufficient coverage between the heroes to protect the city. The rough sketch gave Katsuki a pretty good idea that the pack was trying to rally around him and Kazue, that they were trying to keep as many of the pack home as they could without endangering the public.

And he didn’t particularly like that.

They were heroes. They were supposed to be out on the street, fighting villains and keeping the city quiet, not serving their own needs.

But he also knew just how stubborn his pack could be. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was worth the fight that it would cause if he tried to argue against it. A glance at Yaoyorozu told him she was expecting it, which meant they’d probably already thought of what to say to him if he said anything about it.

Yeah, definitely not worth the fight.

So, he folded the paper, tucked it into his pocket. “Fine, whatever.” There was a bit of satisfaction in seeing the other alpha’s look of surprise as he walked away.

“Uh, right,” she said, too stunned to follow him.

Katsuki went over to the living room, collapsed onto one of the couches there, ran a hand over his face. The tired feeling was still lingering, still aching in his muscles. He wondered if he should have just laid down with Kazue instead of Kirishima, but knew, in the long run, it was better for the pup to be exposed to the pack.

Then again, would it really matter? If Deku survived and decided he wanted nothing to do with Katsuki, nothing to do with his pack, then would introducing Kazue to everyone just upset him later when he was separated from them?

But… what if the worst was to happen? Kazue would need all the support he could get. The pack had already shown they were more than willing to help him, if he would let them. In times of crisis, Katsuki knew his pack would be there. They always were, whether he’d ever wanted them or not. It would be the same for Kazue, no matter the circumstances.

It was a damned situation either way. For now, Katsuki knew Kazue needed people looking out for him. As much as he wanted to be the only caregiver in his pup’s life, that simply wasn’t feasible. Katsuki had responsibilities, a job, not to mention that he wasn’t particularly skilled at caring for pups. Just as Kazue needed the support of the pack, Katsuki needed them to help him navigate these strange, unknown waters.

The alpha hissed out a growl, jerked upright when a blanket suddenly fell over his shoulders.

Yaoyorozu smiled down at him when he turned to see her standing behind him. “Rest up, all right? We’ll watch over everything.”

Katsuki let out a short grunt, perhaps a warning to her that he didn’t need her pity. Whether she understood it or not, she gave no indication, wandering back into the kitchen. The betas had gone suspiciously quiet, after all, but Katsuki wasn’t about to babysit them.

Instead, he leaned back, stared up at the ceiling. The blanket smelled like Mina. She must have been the last one to use it. But it also smelled like the rest of the pack, all the smells that were comfortable to Katuski, the scents he’d long grown used to, the ones he’d long ago begun to associate with belonging.

It smelled like home.

With another growl, Katsuki turned over, closed his eyes. A quick cat nap wouldn’t hurt anyone, after all.

- - -

Katsuki often dreamed of nothing, a blank slate, a numbing, peaceful void. It was a comforting experience, floating in that emptiness. There was nothing trying to pull at his attention, nothing to get on his nerves, nothing to interrupt his own, placid thoughts. Sleep was the one thing that ever granted him this feeling of complete ease.

That is, until something poked at the void, made it collapse around him, brought him back to the waking world with a jolt.

In such situations, Katsuki’s typical reaction was to snap upright and snarl at whatever had so rudely woken him. A very specific scent was all that kept him from doing just that as he turned, saw two little pups right at his face.

One was a little girl, wide-eyed, with a splat of blue hair pulled up into a ponytail on top of her head, her rounded cheeks a little pink. Beside her, a little boy stood with a pacifier in his mouth, sucking happily at it, black hair pinned back to reveal startlingly gray eyes. Both peered at Katsuki, the girl with her finger still dug into his cheek.

Then, she smiled. “Uncle Kats!” She squealed. “Wake up!”

Katsuki grunted, rolled over. Two pairs of hands immediately grabbed at him, one trying to pull the blanket off of him, the other just randomly smacking his back.

“Uncle Kats!” The girl gave one great tug, then stepped away. Katsuki dug himself a little further into the couch as both pups ceased their assault. They were silent for a moment, the alpha trying to slip back into that peaceful void.

Until, one of them started shrieking.

Alarm, both instinctual and reactionary, had him sitting quickly up, looking for the pups. The girl now had the pacifier in her hand and the little boy was crying, his face completely red.

The girl smiled. “Ah! Uncle Kats awake!”

Katsuki snatched the pacifier from her hand and gave it back to the boy, who took it immediately and put it right back into his mouth. “Fumiko, you know better,” he growled at the girl, who looked a little taken aback.

She sniffled, threatening to cry as well, so Katsuki sighed, scooped both her and the boy up into each arm, glancing around to see who was supposed to be taking care of them. As he looked, Fumiko sniffed at his shirt.

“Uncle Kats smells funny.”

That’s right, they haven’t actually met Kazue yet. Katsuki grumbled lowly, glanced between them. “Would you like to meet a new friend?”

Fumiko bounced excitedly in his arm. “Yes! Yes! Today? Now? Here?!”

“Soon, pup. Settle down.” Katsuki growled, peeked into the kitchen. Yaoyorozu was at the counter, making snacks. He set the pups down, the little boy tottering over to his mother, pulling at her leg.

“Takahiro, be patient,” she said, though she did oblige the pup and pick him up. “Ah, Katsuki. Did they wake you?”

“It’s fine.” He glanced around, but found no sign of the rest of the pack. “Has Kazue been up?”

The other alpha shook her head, handed Fumko a cracker. “I haven’t seen him or the betas.”

The betas? Katsuki narrowed his eyes, but didn’t have the chance to ask her about it before Yaoyorozu turned over her shoulder.

“You better get him up or he’ll be cranky tonight.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, caught both Fumiko’s and Takahiro’s attention, the pups staring uncertainly at him. He’d had to stop snapping his jaws as much around the pups, as they always reacted badly, but now they were starting to react to any sharp sound he made at all. Uraraka told him to be more gentle around them, but he’d always said they had to learn eventually. Yaoyorozu was always quick to point out that Fumiko was only three years old and Takahiro two, so eventually was still a long ways off, much to Katsuki’s annoyance. Now he was the one with the traumatized pup that was scared of nearly everything. If karma had a name, it surely would be bitch.

Still grumbling under his breath, Katsuki stomped his way back up the stairs and to his room. Even before he reached the door, he started to smell exactly what was going to be behind it. Part of him wanted to slam the door open, but he opted to just nudge it open and if he was right.

As he suspected, all five betas were curled up on his bed, Kazue snuggled between them. Mina and Kirishima were cuddled closer together, with Sero laying nearly on top of them and Kaminari flung at an awkward angle nearly falling off the bed. Seated at the head of the bed with the other betas piled up before him, Shoji watched as Katsuki entered the room.

It wasn’t unusual for the betas to pile up together like this for naps. If a pack member was particularly distressed, then they would do just this, find where they were and curl up with them. Nearly everyone in the pack had had their bedroom invaded by Kirishima and his betas, though never with Katsuki. The rest of the betas knew better than to enter Katsuki’s room without permission and even on his worst days, he wasn’t particularly aching to have a sweaty, snoring pile of limbs all around him while he slept. Still, he had, on occasion, allowed Kirishima to fill some intangible need for comfort. Seeing all five betas piled up in his room had him both unbelievably furious at the invasion of his territory but soothed at the fact that they were so willing to show the same comfort to his pup as they did every other member of the pack.

Careful of the one squeaky floorboard, Katsuki crossed the room to bed. Shoji watched him, but didn’t move as he approached. “Kirishima invited us in,” he said quietly. “The pup did very well. He was a little nervous at first, but Kirishima settled him down and he’s been sleeping soundly ever since.”

Katsuki grunted, carefully extracted his pup from the pile.

Even if he was displeased at having five betas piled up in his bed, he knew them sleeping with Kazue was an excellent way of introducing him to the pack. Only packmate slept together, after all. Otherwise, it was unwise to leave yourself so vulnerable. Even if he’d only ever had Deku, Kazue would know that, if only instinctually. Seeing him contently sleeping with the betas was reassuring, a sign that he was settling in nicely.

As soon as Katsuki placed Kazue on his chest, the pup squirmed, curled up at his scent gland. Slowly, he opened his eyes, glanced at Katsuki, then around the room, the floor, the bed.

“Mommy,” he muttered, then shivered and fell against Katsuki’s chest.

Knowing exactly what he was looking for, Katsuki glanced around the room, didn’t see it anywhere.

So he took in a breath, and screamed, “Get up, losers!”

The betas, Shoji included, all jolted at his voice, the alpha in him commanding the betas act. Only Kirishima stayed stock still for a moment, parsing through what had just happened, while the other betas leaped off the bed as if it were poison. When they did, they revealed Kazue’s blanket just under Kirishima’s arm.

Katsuki snatched the blanket away before Kirishima had even recovered enough to realize what had just happened. “If you’re done, then get out already.” He growled at the betas before stepping out the door. Kazue took the blanket from him, buried his nose in it.

“Mommy.” He begged.

“We’ll go see him again tomorrow,” Katsuki told him. The pup whimpered sadly and the alpha let out a little croon, the vibrations in his chest settling the pup. “Tomorrow.”

“Will Mommy be awake tomorrow?”

Katsuki knew words could hurt. It was why some things went unsaid. It was why he had yet to say the things he feared the most.

Instead, he sighed deeply. “No, I don’t think so.”

Again, Kazue whimpered, curled up tighter on Katsuki’s chest. He crooned again, low and comforting, but the pup didn’t react.

“Would you like to meet some pups?”

Kazue perked up, blinked at Katsuki. “Pups?”

“Sure. You remember Uraraka? You met her yesterday?” The pup tilted his head to the side. “She has a pup here in the pack, and there’s another little pup, too.” He toyed with the idea of telling Kazue about both of Takahiro’s parents being alphas, but decided now wasn’t the best time. “Would you like to meet them?”

“Yes, please.”

Katsuki let out a rumble. “Oh look. You do know manners.” Kazue pouted at him, but Katsuki just smirked, bringing him back downstairs.

He found the pups in their playpen, Fumiko playing next to Takahiro, still contentedly sucking on his pacifier. Both pups looked curiously up as Katsuki lowered Kazue next to them.

“Kazue, this is Fumiko and Takahiro. Pups, this is Kazue.” He stood over them, put his hands on his hips. “You three better play nice.”

Fumiko blinked at him. “Or what?”

“Yeah,” Kazue glared suspiciously up at Katsuki, “or what?”

“You don’t want to find out,” Katsuki growled.

Kazue did not seem impressed, but Fumiko shivered, turned quickly away. The older pup watched as she went to sit next to Takahiro, eyed them both. As much as Katsuki didn’t want to hover, he found himself unable to move as his pup seemed to evaluate the situation. Then, he took a few steps forward, sat next to the pups, Fumiko eagerly telling Kazue that she had learned how to share, handing him one of her toys. Kazue accepted the toy, slowly beginning to play.

As much as he hated listening to it, Katsuki felt his inner alpha growling in contentment at seeing his pup playing with the other pack pups. It was where he belonged, after all. This was his home as much as it was Katsuki. Here, Katsuki could keep him safe and provide for him.

Good alpha. Happy pup. Pup safe at home.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, tried to turn that part of his brain off.

It wasn’t true. This was a home for Kazue, but ultimately, his home would be wherever Deku decided it was, not where Katsuki wanted it to be. This was just to support the pup until his omega recovered. Then they’d see what was to come.

A sharp ringing brought Katsuki away from his thoughts. He fished in his pocket for his phone, found a number he didn’t recognize was calling, had half a mind to ignore it, but then answered it with a growl.

“Yeah, what?”

“Hello, I’m looking for Katsuki Bakugo?”

“Yeah? And who’s this?”

“This is Detective Shohei Ito.”

Katsuki paused. Felt a small part of him bristle at the name. But mostly, he felt a stab of coldness spread from his chest and into his limbs.

Through that cold, he forced himself to move, knocked ice from his joints to carry him out the front door and away from earshot of his pup.

“Is Deku gone?” The words weren’t any easier to say than they’d been the first time, but Katsuki spoke them with a resignation, a realization that he had known this moment was coming.

The detective made a strangled kind of noise. “Oh, no no no no! No, Midoriya is perfectly fine. Well, I mean… uh how much do you know about his condition?”

“Last I heard he was in a coma,” Katsuki hid himself behind the tree in the yard, leaned against it for some privacy.

The house was set away from the road, sequestered outside the city where the pack could live and raise the pups in peace. But they still got the odd photographer trying to sneak a quick shot. Katsuki had, more than once, driven them off with bared teeth and angry howling. Although the media never particularly cared for this, he always maintained that it was his duty as one of the alphas in the pack to protect their packhouse. That answer was always sufficient, if not always well received, but they’d subsequently had less and less unwelcome visitors to the house. Still, he did cast a glare around the fence to make sure nobody was watching before slipping behind the tree.

“Well then, that hasn’t changed. Dr. Tanaka is still looking after him and he’s still recovering.”

Katsuki growled, though he wasn’t even sure himself if he was happy with the news or not. “Fine then. What do you want?”

“Well, I think first, I owe you an apology.”

Katsuki scoffed, rubbed his fingers along his palm. Outside in the heat, he could feel the sweat starting to build on them. “I don’t need an apology from someone like you.”

“I’ll feel better if I say it, even if you don’t need it. So, I apologize for what happened in the hospital. The pup looked so much like you, I should have known you were telling the truth.”

“It’s not about Kazue looking like me or not,” Katsuki let a hint of a snarl into his voice, “it’s that I’ve never lied to you or to anyone else in the police department. Especially not about something that important.”

“You’re right,” Ito didn’t necessarily sound cowed, but he at least sounded sincere, “and I still apologize.”

Katsuki snapped his jaws, growled. “Whatever. It’s behind us now. And I know you didn’t just call me to apologize, so get on with whatever it is you have to say.”

The detective gave a laugh that didn’t sound nervous at all, but Katsuki knew the other alpha would be sweating just a bit. “Got me again. I’m actually hoping to talk about Kazue a little. Specifically, I would like to have your permission to sign him up for another interview with the psychiatrist he saw in the hospital.”

“Same one?”

“Same one.”

Katsuki breathed in deeply. “Yeah, sure.”

Ito paused for more than just a breath. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Katsuki couldn’t help the growl in his voice.

“I’m… I’m a bit shocked it was that easy.”

Katsuki kicked at the grass. “Anything to find the bastard who did this.”

Again, the detective paused. But this time, the silence between them was heavy with those unspoken things.

Then, he said, “All right. On that note, there’s a couple other things I’d like to ask you.”

“Yeah? Well get on with it, I—” he stopped as the front door flung open and Kazue leaped out of it, so sudden and so intense that he nearly fell.

The world reduced to that pinpoint. To just Kazue, stumbling for purchase, head whipping around with a look of terror on his face.

Without thinking, Katsuki pulled the phone away from his ear, made a high, sharp calling noise, an alpha's call for his pack, to gain the pup’s attention. Whether it was instinct or fear that turned Kazue to him, the pup immediately ran toward him, letting out a shrill cry as he did.

“Bakugo?” Ito’s voice cut through to him, for just a moment.

“I have to go,” he breathed.

The detective had just enough time to say “Wha—” before he ended the call, jammed the phone in his pocket before reaching for the terrified pup.

Kazue was sobbing when he rushed into Katsuki’s arms, when he wrapped his arms around his neck, when he curled himself around the alpha. His scent was as sour as it had been the day he’d run into Katsuki on the street.

“What happened?” The alpha spoke shortly, his world still pinpointed to just the pup in his arms, the pup who sniffled and squirmed, as if trying to reduce himself to a smaller size.

“Alpha.” He sobbed.

Katsuki’s breath caught and he glanced around, half convinced he was going to see the bastard who had done this to Kazue and Deku. But there was nobody there. Because of course there was nobody there.

Kazue wasn’t talking about that alpha.

The realization entered his brain, floated around for several seconds, several moments where Katsuki had to reign in his alpha brain, remind himself that he couldn’t let his instincts control him. He took in a deep breath, held it, let it out.

Once that was done, he shifted Kazue to a more comfortable position, carried him back toward the house.

When the door opened, Kazue tightened his grip around Katsuki’s neck, digging his knees around the alpha’s chest, trying to curl up more. Katsuki ran a hand along his back, smelled a very distinct scent in the air.

Through the archway into the kitchen, he saw Yaoyorozu on the floor with the other pups. They were crowded around her, looking a little bewildered, a little scared. But they weren’t hurt, and that was what mattered most in that moment.

Yaoyorozu, however, was very clearly holding back tears.

She glanced up, saw Katsuki and Kazue in the doorway, and drew Takahiro closer to her, rubbing against the pup as if to reassure him, although they both knew it was for her own sake.

The longer Katsuki lingered near her, the more Kazue was starting to tense up again, sensing the alpha nearby, so Katsuki went to the playpen, found Kazue’s blanket laying abandoned within, and grabbed it, tucking it around the pup to soothe him. Then, he quietly took him back up the stairs to his room.

It still smelled like the betas there, though he supposed it would also still smell like him as well. As soon as they entered the familiar room, the tension carefully unspooled from Kazue’s body. He nosed his way under his blanket, settled on Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki took him to the bed, sat down with him, wrapped his arms around him.

Wished he could have done better for the little pup.

- - -

That night, Tsu and Uraraka tag teamed bathing all three pups by themselves, giving Katsuki some time to cook for the pack. It had been a while since he’d been able to make anything and the familiar routine of it unwound knots in his shoulders he hadn’t even realized he had.

Todoroki had come home soon after the incident with Yaoyorozu and Kazue and comforted his mate as best he could, though Yaoyorozu was still understandably upset. She’d explained that all she’d tried to do was offer Kazue some food and the pup had exploded on her, breaking the playpen in his attempts to get away from her. The playpen was easily fix, but the female alpha sat miserably at the dinner table, nursing a cup of tea. Todoroki, along with several of the betas, sat next to her, trying to lend her as much support as they could.

And Katsuki cooked, unsure if it apologized enough for what his pup had done, but knowing at least she’d have a good meal for the night.

Most of the rest of the pack hung in the archway, watching Katsuki as they normally would. It was this normalcy that lulled Katsuki, that let him just allow his body to move as it wanted to. Halfway through cooking, he realized with a holt that he’d started making katsudon, Deku’s favorite. He was tempted to scrap it and start something else, but didn’t want the pack to notice something was wrong, so he resigned himself to thinking of the omega all through dinner.

When the pups came barreling into the kitchen after bath time, Kazue a little more cautiously than the other two, Katsuki found himself waiting for the pup to realize what exactly he was making. If Kazue knew or not, he never commented, not once, not while Katsuki was cooking, not as dinner was served, not through eating dinner.

Although the pup was reluctant at first to be in the same room as the three other alphas, the table was big enough for him and Katsuki to sit at one end and the three alphas at the other, the rest of the pack acting as a buffer between them. At first, Kazue sat in Katsuki’s lap for dinner, though upon seeing the two other pups had chairs of their own, he demanded his own seat, squeezed in between his alpha and Kirishima. He pressed his hands together and said thank you before he began eating. Katsuki watched him, but he never commented on the food. He simply ate, eying the pack as they chatted.

There was a tension to the meal, despite the otherwise normal setting. Every now and then, Katsuki would see someone glance at Kazue, then at Yaoyorozu. Only the female alpha kept her eyes to her food and her own pup, never letting her gaze trail up the table. Kazue, however, glared between the three alphas frequently, his distrust not going unnoticed.

Once dinner was done, the pack cleaned up, Katsuki and Uraraka putting the pups in the playpen and watching as they played. Katsuki kept close attention to how his pup interacted with the smaller pups, saw that he seemed well-versed in how to play with younger pups, never getting frustrated when they grew impatient, never trying to interject himself where he wasn’t wanted. He played around the pups, with them when they let him, but mostly, he seemed just to keep an eye on them, as if he were the one watching of them. While it wasn’t unusual for older pups to watch over younger ones, Kazue was a bit too young for such behaviors. Katsuki wasn’t sure what it spoke to, but it certainly spoke to something.

“It’ll be okay,” Uraraka told him at one point.

Katsuki wasn’t exactly sure what she was referring to and he didn’t comment, just watched the pups playing.

When they finally tired, Katsuki took Kazue out of the playpen first, offering him his blanket. The pup buried himself in the blanket, then in Katsuki’s shoulder, allowed himself to be carried back up the stairs.

Despite his nap, the nerves of knowing he was going to have to face Deku’s unconscious body again and the fact that Kazue was going to see the psychiatrist again had worn Katsuki out. He got Kazue into pajamas, set him in his nest, and curled up right next to him.

“Good night, pup,” he muttered, closing his eyes, hoping it would signal to the pup that it was time for sleep.

For a moment, it seemed to work.

Then, he heard shuffling from the nest. “Kacchan?”

The name seized at some long-buried instinct, something Katsuki had tried so hard to tear apart. It was this instinct that had his eyes shooting open, seeking out the pup, who stared calmly back at him, completely not understanding the significance of the name.

“Kiri told me about your pack.”

Katsuki just stared, still trying to reorient himself after the pup had called his name. “Kiri?” Was all he managed to say.

Kazue nodded. “His name is really hard to say… so he told me to call him Kiri.”

“Kirishima?”

The pup huffed. “Who else?” That snapped Katsuki out of his daze, the alpha in him telling him to growl at the pup, though he swallowed it down quickly. “He said your pack is like your family.”

“It is,” Katsuki said carefully. “What else did he say?”

The pup shook his head. “Nothing else.”

Although he wasn’t exactly sure if he believed that, bedtime was not the time to push the pup on any details. Instead, he sighed, closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep, but again, he heard the pup rustling in his nest. He cracked one eye open to find him laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

There was something haunting in that image. He reminded Katsuki a lot of Deku, especially in that moment.

The pup tilted his head slightly and said, “Your pack is nice.”

Katsuki waited, wondering if there was more. But the pup was quiet, staring up at the ceiling. Slowly, his eyes closed. Katsuki watched, moved himself a bit closer to the nest.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, but the pup was already asleep.

Chapter Text

Hospital visiting hours were from ten to seven every day, with a break for lunch between noon and one. While Deku was still in a coma, Katsuki vowed to take Kazue to see the omega at least once every day. It helped that the hospital agreed to host the psychiatric visits with Kazue for the police. Despite a nurse’s reassurance, Katsuki wasn’t exactly sold on letting his pup be interviewed over and over again by the psychiatrist, but he knew for as much as he and the pack could help to reassure him, he was going to need professional help as well to work through what he had seen and heard. So he allowed it, although reluctantly.

He was even more reluctant when upon returning to the hospital the next day, he saw Detective Ito already waiting for them.

“Ah. There you are,” the detective smiled at the hero, who glowered in response.

“What are you doing here? Kazue’s session isn’t until this afternoon.”

Ito flashed him a smile. “I came to speak with you, obviously. Our call got cut short yesterday.”

Katsuki eyed him flatly, stepped past him. “We’re going to see Deku first.”

“I promise, it’ll only take a few—"

Katsuki snapped his jaw, made the detective pause long enough for him to growl, “My pup sees his omega first. Then we talk.”

Kazue, who had been watching the interaction from his perch on Katsuki’s chest, nodded once, forcefully. Ito blinked between pup and alpha, but said nothing else as they waited for Tanaka to arrive. The doctor was not surprised to see them, led them quietly back down the familiar hallway, with Ito trailing behind them.

At Deku’s room, Katsuki glared at Ito, a warning not to follow them, and went inside when Tanaka opened the door. Deku was still laying in his bed, with the machines still hooked up to him. Some of the bruises Katsuki had seen the previous day were faded slightly, yellowing around the edges. They’d healed far too quickly for the time it would take to recover naturally.

When Katsuki turned to Tanaka, perhaps the doctor was anticipating the question or perhaps he could read it in the alpha’s glare. “We have two Quirk doctors working with Midoriya to try to help him recover. He’s doing much better than he was yesterday. It’s all looking up, but he’s still not out of the woods yet and he’s got a long way to go.”

It was good news and that’s all Katsuki really needed to hear. He gently deposited Kazue near the omega’s scent gland again, watched as the pup curled up at his neck. Tanaka waited a moment longer, then excused himself. Likewise, Katsuki paused to make sure Deku and Kazue were doing well before he went to the window, pulled the curtain open to a surprised detective. Ito gazed into the room, tensed at the sight of Deku and Kazue. Katsuki ignored his reaction, went back out into the hallway. He stood next to the detective, glared into the room, kept a close eye on Kazue. The pup hadn’t even noticed that he had left, still curled up at his omega’s side. Deku slept on. Katsuki wondered if he knew his pup was there or not.

“So,” Ito breached the silence carefully, as if he were walking into a wolf’s den and he knew very well how bad of an idea it was. “How has the pup been?”

Katsuki didn’t even look at him. “If you wanted something from me, you have until my pup calls me.”

“Right, then,” Ito pulled out his notebook. “Has Kazue said anything else about the attack?”

“No, and I haven’t asked,” Katsuki growled. “He’s just a pup.”

“I know, but he’s all we have,” Ito muttered, already writing on his notepad. He paused, glanced over what he’d written. “If you don’t mind, I’d actually like to ask you about Midoriya.”

For the first time, Katsuki turned to Ito, met his eyes. The detective went very still, kept the alpha’s gaze. There was a quiet between them. Heavy and languid, as if the tension between them was slowing time itself.

Then, Katsuki snorted. “You can ask, but it’s been five years since I’ve seen him.”

“Interesting,” Ito didn’t seem pleased, wrote something else. “We’ve actually been looking for next of kin contact. We know his mother died a few years ago, but you don’t happen to know how to contact his father?”

Katsuki grumbled, turned away. He’d known about Inko, had tried hard to forget about seeing her obituary on the news boards not long after he’d left Deku, had tried not to think of the omega in the days and weeks and months after.

“His father’s a deadbeat. Doubt even if you got in contact with him that he’d care, so don’t bother.” Katsuki lowered his chin. “I’m all you’ve got.”

“Noted,” Ito said flatly, earning another growl from the alpha. He paused, tilted his head toward Katsuki. “Long time since you’ve seen Midoriya. You wanna know what he’s been up to?”

The conspiratorial nature of the question and the tone the detective took caught Katsuki’s attention.

He glared hard at Ito, but the detective never backed down. “Why?”

Ito shrugged. “I do owe you an apology. Don’t you want to know what your pup’s life’s been like?”

Katsuki knew this was wrong. His pup’s alpha or not, Ito knew Katsuki was not in Deku’s life. He should be keeping the omega’s privacy.

So he stayed quiet, watched as the detective flipped to another part of his notebook.

“I need to review my notes anyway before the psychiatric interview. And I’ve always retained information better by saying it out loud.”

There was an out in his words. Katsuki could just walk away. Or, he could say nothing, just stand there, watch his pup through the window.

He’d already hurt Deku so much. He didn’t deserve this. But Katsuki wanted to know, needed—

The detective cleared his throat, and Katsuki didn’t move.

“We tracked Midoriya’s apartment to basically a one-room addition over a shop. The shop owner agreed to rent out the room to him and his pup about four years ago and he’s been living there ever since. We don’t have a record of where he was living before that, though the timeline suggests he potentially was living in his mother’s apartment before it was retained by the owners and any current occupants evicted after her death." Katsuki ground his teeth, waited as Ito turned to another page. “Currently, Midoriya is employed at a hero support agency on their administrative team, but he’s also enrolled in classes at the nearby university. It looks like he was in training to become an engineer, maybe for said support agency. We’ve yet to receive confirmation if he’s enrolled on their blessing. However, we did find out that he works mostly at home, caring for the pup.” Ito flipped another page. “Busy guy.”

Katsuki said nothing. Part of him wasn’t surprised. The other part of him was just sad. Of course Deku would do everything he could to provide for his pup. Of course he wouldn’t let everything that had happened stop him from reaching his goals. Of course he’d figure out how to do it all alone.

“What this means for us is Midoriya was mostly at home, didn’t have a lot of face-to-face contact, even with people from his company. Additionally, his classes were online, so the only place the alpha could have found him and the pup was while they were out in public. So it’s most likely a random attack.”

At this, Katsuki couldn’t stop himself from snarling deeply. Ito paused, stilled, waited.

Then, he flipped his notepad shut. “That’s all we’ve found so far.”

“So not much,” the alpha growled.

“Not much,” the detective repeated. “Forensics of the scene at the abandoned building is still underway, but we’re expecting that soon. Besides what Kazue can tell us, it might be out only other clue.”

It was a difficult thought to accept that this was all random. If it was, the question still remained over why the alpha had taken Kazue along with Deku. There was something they were missing. Some vital clue. Annoying as he was, Ito was smart enough to know that. And that’s what he had been searching for, that missing piece, while Katsuki had simply been wallowing.

Aren’t I supposed to be a hero? What’s happened to me?

Somehow, the answer was so simple, yet so perplexing.

Kazue stirred suddenly from Deku’s side, peered out around the empty room. A little tremble swept over his body and Katsuki moved, drawn by instinct, by need, to be at his side.

As he passed Ito, the detective took his arm, stopped him. Katsuki was halfway through a snarl when he saw the piercing glare on Ito’s face. It was a look he knew well, one of grit, determination, a suffocating need for something.

“Bakugo,” the detective lowered his voice for only the alpha to hear. “I promise I will find who did this to Midoriya and I will stop him.”

There was something to be said about Ito’s conviction. Truth be told, it was a conviction Katsuki knew well. It was one he often saw in other heroes, one he knew well from his own packmates.

But he said nothing to it, merely growled until the detective let him go, and went back into Deku’s room.

When the door opened, Kazue jumped, crouching closer to his omega, though he paused when he realized it was just Katsuki. Katsuki took a seat at Deku’s bedside, the pup gazing curiously at him for several heartbeats. Then, he laid back down, rested against Deku’s shoulder. Katsuki watched, waited to make sure his pup was settled, then turned around and drew the curtain shut.

Just before it closed, he saw Ito through the window gazing puzzlingly down at his notes.

- - -

Kazue was not happy to be separated from his omega when hospital visiting hours went on break. He was even more unhappy when he was told he would have to sit and talk with the psychiatrist again, though she skillfully took the upset pup from Katsuki and quieted him down with soft words and the offering of several new toys. Katsuki watched from the observation room again with Ito, though neither of them said anything to one another the entire time. There was an understanding between them that no words could convey. While Katsuki was concerned over his pup’s welfare, Ito was searching for that missing piece. Their goals were linked, but intrinsically different. So they said nothing more to each other.

And in the end, it didn’t matter all too much.

Kazue said very little more about the attack, adding only that Deku and the alpha had gotten into a physical altercation before they were taken to the abandoned building. It was expected, but mostly Katuski was interested in this new piece of information because it meant there were potentially other witnesses out there who heard the omega trying to fight off the alpha. Ito, too, scribbled furiously in his notebook at the news, so much so that Katsuki swore he could smell the paper burning.

At the end of it, Kazue was returned to Katsuki, who took him to get a quick lunch before they went back to Deku’s room and Ito was given another small clue to continue his investigation. Nobody was entirely happy, but it had been a somewhat positive result either way.

At the packhouse that night, Katsuki set Kazue down and watched, surprised, as the pup went up to Kirishima, tugging at his pants, trying to get the beta’s attention. Kirishima was so delighted in his attempts that he nearly scared the pup off with his enthusiastic reaction, though he quieted quickly when Katsuki snarled at him. With Kirishima watching Kazue, it gave Katsuki the opportunity to cook for the pack again, this time making spicy noodles, his own comfort food. Sero suggested he make a non-spicy batch for those who didn’t want to burn their tongues off, but Katsuki was only convinced after Todoroki pointed out that none of the pups, including Kazue, would be able to eat the spicy noodles. He still grumbled a little all through dinner, earning a curious glance or two from Kazue throughout the meal.

That night, Katsuki laid down with Kazue again after tucking another new blanket around the pup’s neck, Deku’s scent lingering around them. Kazue laid very still in his nest for a moment, then suddenly leaped up, surprising Katsuki. The pup jumped off the bed, went around the room, began gathering up new things. Katsuki watched, unmoving, as the pup built up his nest, specifically grabbing pieces of clothes that Katsuki had recently worn, surrounding himself with the alpha’s scent. Then, when he deemed it suitable, the pup settled quickly in his nest, purred happily. After waiting for several minutes, Katsuki lowered himself back to his pillow, let out a breath.

He slept more soundly than he had since finding Deku and his pup.

- - -

When Tanaka opened the door to Deku’s room the next day, Katsuki paused briefly in the doorframe, his heart swelling.

The bandages were off Deku’s eyes. Several of the bruises were receded. The cast was off his leg.

Kazue gave a strange little chirp, struggling to get out of Katsuki’s arms and rushing to the omega’s side. “Mommy, Mommy!” He grabbed Deku’s arm and shook it.

“Whoa, careful, pup,” the doctor quickly crossed the room to stop him. “Your omega is still hurt. You still have to be gentle with him.”

The pup glared up at the doctor, clambered up on Deku’s bed to curl up under his arm. “Why is Mommy still sleeping?”

“He’s still recovering,” Tanaka said patiently. “He’s doing a lot better, but the more he sleeps, the faster he heals up and the faster he can go back to playing with you. So you have to let him sleep for a little longer.” He leaned in a little closer to the pup, despite Kazue shrinking away from him. “If you want your omega get better sooner, then make sure you scent him every day. As long as he knows you’re with him, he’ll heal up so he can see you again. That’s the best thing you can do for him right now.”

Kazue growled frustratedly, but didn’t protest when Katsuki picked him up and set him closer to Deku’s scent gland. As he had every day before, he curled up at the omega’s neck, nestled in as if he were always meant to fit there.

Katsuki watched, as, too, had done for the past couple of days, until Tanaka touched his arm. “Let’s talk briefly outside.”

As much as Katsuki didn’t want to talk to the doctor or leave Kazue alone, he reluctantly agreed, making sure to pull the curtains open before following Tanaka. The doctor unhooked a clipboard from just inside Deku’s room before joining him. Katsuki felt his lips tighten toward a snarl as the doctor flipped through some of the paperwork.

“So,” Tanaka sighed deeply, “as you can see, our Quirk doctors have been working with Midoriya and have been able to make some good progress. As I told the pup, he still has a long way to go, but we can confidently say that we expect him to make a full recovery.”

Katsuki didn’t know what the weight of the world felt like until it was lifted off his shoulders and he could breathe deeply for the first time.

Deku was going to be okay.

Deku was going to live.

There was so much Katsuki wanted to say, so much he wanted to do, but he found himself unmoving, stuck in the moment of hearing those words over and over again.

Whether he noticed the alpha’s reaction or not, Tanaka continued, “For now, we want to keep him under medication, but we’re hoping to bring him out of it within the next couple of days, so long as we can continue to make good progress with him. When that time comes, it won’t be a good idea for Kazue to be in the room, should anything adverse happen, however we do suggest you being there.”

Something in the doctor’s words set Katsuki on edge, something that snapped him out of the bliss of the moment and had him crashing back to reality. “Why?”

The doctor nodded toward the window, and the omega laying beyond it. “Since he was attacked by an alpha and some of our attending staff will be alphas, we suggest having a known alpha scent in the room with him when he wakes so not to cause him immediate panic.”

“Just tell the alphas to leave and let omegas and betas work on him, then,” Katsuki growled, but the doctor was already shaking his head.

“We simply don’t have enough non-alpha staff to keep a rotation around Midoriya while we wait for him to wake up. It could be several hours before he is full conscious once we administer the reversal. While we will work to keep most of his staff betas and omegas, there will inevitably be alphas in the room, if only just in me.”

Katsuki blinked. He hadn’t even realized the doctor was an alpha. Although he knew medical staff, like heroes, often wore scent blockers, he was a bit surprised he hadn’t noticed the signs earlier. Of course, blockers probably wouldn’t be enough to stave off his scent from Deku. Omegas already had heightened senses from other secondary genders, but especially so when they were distressed. He’d be able to pick out exactly what everyone was in the room with or without blockers.

Katsuki snapped his jaw, felt like he was getting pulled into a situation he didn’t have a right to be in once again. But at the same time, he’d do anything for Deku. Anything at all.

When had that changed? When had he started saying that?

Or perhaps, the real question was, had he ever really stopped?

Tanaka ignored his annoyance, waiting for when the alpha shook his head. “All right, fine. I’ll get one of my packmates to keep Kazue. He gets to see his omega as soon as he can though.”

The doctor nodded patiently. “Of course. It’s better for him to reunite with the pup sooner rather than later since he was also involved in the attack, but we do want to avoid traumatizing him anymore than necessary. Once Midoriya is awake and calm, we can bring him in.”

“All right,” Katsuki growled. “And if he tells me to get out, I’m leaving. No matter what you say.”

Again, the doctor nodded. “That’s sound and fair. He’ll have to be somewhat lucid to tell you to leave, so I’ll accept that.”

“It’s not your choice,” Katsuki grumbled, turned back to the window. Kazue was pressing his hand to Deku’s cheek, slowly rubbing it, maybe trying to rouse the omega. The sight pulled him forward, his alpha demanding he go and comfort the pup, but he stayed, waited to see if Tanaka had anything else to say to him.

The doctor, however, simply lowered his clipboard, stared through the window just as Katsuki had. “We really didn’t know if he was going to make it. That omega has a will to live, no doubt about it.”

“He has a reason to live,” Katsuki grumbled simply. Kazue was reason enough to fight, to struggle, to endure any pain at all, if he could just get back to his pup. He knew that. It was the same for him. For Deku, he imagined the drive would be even stronger. “Anything else to say to me?”

Tanaka shook his head. “Just make sure the pup is careful around him. He may look a lot better, but he’s still very injured. There’s already permanent scarring on his arm and the dentist decided to leave the broken tooth for now. We’ll have to see if it rots out on its own.”

Being a hero, Katsuki knew the lingering effects of injuries. He, too, had scars from battles he’d rather forget. Hearing Tanaka so casually name the scars on Deku….

He turned away. “If that’s it, I’m going to care for my pup.”

“Of course,” Tanaka stepped out of his way, let him go back into the room.

Katsuki shut the door, closed the curtains, took his normal spot next to Deku. Kazue watched him as he did all this, seemed to settle quietly once the alpha had taken his seat. They stayed like that, comfortable, quiet, until a nurse came to tell them it was time for Kazue’s next psychiatric session.

Then, Katsuki carefully took up Kazue, Kazue reluctantly prying himself away from the omega, whimpering a little when he did so. He allowed Katsuki to bring him out of the room, down the hall, and deposit him into the care of the psychiatrist, who greeted him warmly.

When Katsuki entered the observation room, he was expecting Ito to be there already, and the detective was there. But he had been joined by someone else. Someone who had the alpha pausing, taken aback.

Inspector Tsukauchi smiled warmly. “Ah, there you are. Ito said you would be joining us.”

Despite his warm welcome, Katsuki paused, stared at the inspector. Like Ito, he was known to be an alley to heroes in their fight against criminals and villains. But Tsukauchi was different from Ito. Ito was young and inexperienced. Tsukauchi was one of the most senior officers Katsuki had ever worked with. If he was there, then something had changed. Something drastic.

So he closed the door, kept himself from growling at the inspector. “What are you doing here?”

“Straight to the point, as always, I see.” Tsukauchi paused as Kazue was led into the interview room with the psychiatrist. “We’ll talk after this. I actually have some questions for you as the first person on scene.”

It was hard to miss the line drawn in the sand. The inspector wanted to talk with him, but only about his work as a hero. There was no doubt in Katsuki’s mind that Tsukauchi knew the entire situation with him, Kazue, and Deku. But for this moment, he only wanted him as the person who had found the omega.

Yes, something had changed, and perhaps not for the better.

Just as the day previous, the psychiatrist sat and spoke with Kazue, but gained little more information. Kazue wasn’t willing to go into detail on what he had seen nor was the psychiatrist willing to force it out of him. Instead, she spent a large part of the session asking again about what the alpha looked like. Kazue gave a similar response as he had the first day, dark hair, angry eyes, jagged teeth.

Throughout the entire interview, nobody in the observation room spoke a word.

When it finally came to an end, Tsukauchi turned to Katsuki.

“First off, I’ll say, congratulations on the pup. I didn’t know you were a father.”

There was a question hidden there. Katsuki saw it, saw the inspector waiting for him to speak. All he said was, “What’s changed?”

Tsukauchi’s smile faded, turned grim. “Unfortunately, we have reason to believe this case is linked to a series of cases we’ve been investigating for months now.” Katsuki raised an eyebrow, waited for him to go on. The inspector glanced to Ito, who was glaring glumly through the window. “At this time, that’s all I can say. I’ve got a few questions that I hope can clear up some things for us. It may lead us to finding out exactly what is going on here.”

Perhaps he should have been expecting that answer. But that didn’t mean Katsuki had to like it. Still, he said nothing, waited for the inspector to ask his questions already. Tuskuachi did so without paying any mind to the alpha’s obvious frustration, “I would like to talk to you about what you saw. Specifically about the conditions of the pup and the omega and the restraints used on the omega.”

A growl escaped the alpha. He glared down the inspector, said, “What exactly do you want to know?”

Tsukauchi lowered his chin slightly. He asked Katsuki to confirm the injuries Kazue had when they’d found him on the street, to describe the cloth used to tie up Deku, and the general condition he’d found the omega in. The questions themselves weren’t anything Katsuki hadn’t gone through a hundred times on different cases with the police, very standard questions. But there was something deeply upsetting about remembering that day and having to describe it all in detail. Katsuki’s alpha brain was itching to let him just howl in rage and race out to find whoever had done this to his pup and the omega. It was hard to keep it under control while trying to answer all of Tsukauchi’s questions.

When the inspector finally seemed satisfied, Katsuki had a question of his own, “You think this is connected to other cases you’re working on?”

Tsukauchi pocketed his notebook, frowned deeply. “We haven’t confirmed anything yet. It’s entirely possible this isn’t related. But we do have our suspicions.”

Katsuki glanced up at the inspector, knew that if he was here, there was little doubt in their minds. This case was related to the others. And whatever these other cases were, they were bound to be something bad, something that had those highest in the police force scrambling for answers.

Whatever had happened, it was very clear that Deku and Kazue had been a part of something both grand and terrifying. And maybe it pointed to this not being a random attack. Maybe this was something so much more.

Katsuki took in a deep breath, but found his hands refused to stop shaking.

They continued to shake until as they exited the room, as he stepped out into the hall and suddenly smelled something that caught his attention.

Little arms wrapped around his legs before he registered what was happening, Kazue tugging at his pants to get his attention. The alpha lifted him up, tried to lay him on his chest as he always did, but the pup pushed away to look right into his eyes.

“Mommy?” He asked.

“We’ll go see him in a moment,” Katsuki glanced to the inspector and detective, who took a respectful step away.

“That’s enough for today. We’ll be in contact if we require anything else,” Tsukauchi said.

That was all that needed to be said. The spoken words were very clear. But it was what wasn’t said that Katsuki understood clearly. The unspoken words were that although the inspector had told him about their belief in Deku’s case being connected to others, he wouldn’t get anything else unless it furthered their case.

And maybe that was for the best. Just what the alpha knew was stewing in his mind, barely contained by his own stubborn will not to show just how much it was affecting him. He was angry, scared, guilty, tired.

So very tired.

When had he gotten so tired?

So when Tsukauchi told him he would be in touch if he needed something, Katsuki turned away, didn’t give himself the chance to demand information he maybe didn’t want to have.

He was a hero, after all.

He didn’t need any more information. All he needed to know was where the villains were hiding. All he needed to know was who he could beat to a pulp. All he needed to know was who needed to be stopped.

He was a hero.

Kazue rubbed against Katsuki’s neck, clung to him a little tighter. “Why are you sad?”

Katsuki nearly tripped.

How had the pup known? His scent? No, he was wearing scent blockers. Had he been frowning? What was it?

Again, the pup nestled into his scent gland, gave off a little of his own scent. As a pup, he didn’t have a lot of control over his scent, it only being an instinctual response. His scent didn’t reflect his want to comfort Katsuki, but rather his own emotions, tastes of confusion and sorrow in his otherwise calm scent. Even with these sharp notes, it was still a wonderful smell. Katsuki dipped his nose toward the pup, rumbled low in his chest.

The pup blinked up at him. “Well? Why are you so sad?”

The alpha stepped quietly through the hospital hallway.

“I miss your mom.”

Kazue sniffed. “Yeah. Me too.”

- - -

Even though Katsuki and Kazue were hardly home over the next couple of days, the pack found ways to integrate the pup into their lives while continuing to support the alpha. Somehow, someone found a way to take care of Kazue once they returned home, whether to take a bath or to play with the other pups, giving Katsuki a chance to unwind by helping to cook dinner. Despite the inherent chaos of cooking for so many people, he found it a good change of pace to simply sitting at Deku’s side all day.

After dinner was more relaxation, typically through the pack just sitting together and talking or watching television, though television sometimes led to arguments over what to watch. During the night, Kazue would curl up in his nest beside Katsuki and they would rest and recover and prepare for facing what the next day would bring.

In the hospital, Deku continued to make marked progress. His bruises faded. Color returned to his face. Somehow, he looked stronger.

And yet, whenever Katsuki set Kazue on his scent gland, he never woke. And each day that passed, Katsuki watched the hope in Kazue’s eyes fade.

The police set up one more interview between Kazue and the psychiatrist, but it was quickly apparent that Kazue either hadn’t seen anything relevant or was too young to have understood any importance in anything he had seen. All his subsequent interviews were postponed pending additional information becoming available. For his part, Katsuki was happy to see them go. As much as he knew it was useful to the police and to Kazue to a degree, he hated leaving his pup in the hands of someone he didn’t really know. At least in his arms and with his pack, he knew the pup was safe.

There came a strange tempo to their lives, a movement that they stepped through with both a practiced ease and an apprehensive disquiet. Even if they were going about their day as if things were working just fine, everyone knew there was something missing, some crucial piece that was making life only just bearable.

This strange unbalance continued until, finally, two days later, Tanaka pulled Katsuki aside.

“Tomorrow, we want to try waking Midoriya.” His words had a strange effect on the ground under Katsuki’s feet. It felt simultaneously solid and liable to shatter if he moved too suddenly. “You remember what I said about the pup?”

The question didn’t make the ground feel any less or more stable, but it was something for the alpha to focus on. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll have one of my pack sit with him.”

Tanaka nodded. “Good. We’re praying for a successful day.”

There wasn’t anything Katsuki had to say to that. He called Kirishima and Iida, informed him on what was happening. Kirishima agreed to help without hesitation and Iida promised to prepare the pack.

One way or another, things were going to change. They would have to be ready to react. But Katsuki didn’t have time to think about the pack.

That night, he took Kazue to a quiet part of the house, set the pup on his knees.

“Kazue,” he said quietly, the pup tilting his head slightly. “When your mom wakes up, you have to promise me you’ll still be gentle with him. He’ll still be hurt.”

Kazue gazed up at him. Even after nearly a week with the pup, he still felt like a stranger looking up at him, not understanding him fully.

He tilted his head the other way. “Is Mommy going to take up?”

“Yes,” Katsuki hoped the pup believed him. “Soon. He’ll wake up very soon.”

Kazue was much too young to catch the subtler inflections of his voice. But maybe he wasn’t completely in the dark. At the least, he seemed to understand the urgency of his words, just how important they were.

Slowly, he nodded. “All right.”

- - -

Neither alpha nor pup found much rest. Katsuki assumed Kazue was restless due to picking up on his alpha’s anxieties. Meanwhile, Katsuki found himself stuck in a battle between two parts of himself. One part that was terrified of having to face Deku again and another part that was looking forward to surrounding the omega in all the attention and care he deserved and needed. While he was very much looking forward to seeing Deku finally awake and firmly on the road to recovery, he had absolutely no idea what he was going to do afterward.

What would he say? What would Deku say? What was Kazue going to say?

The last question was the one that had the alpha rolling over and over in his bed.

He’d been so caught up in wondering how Deku would react to him that he’d forgotten the pup was, in fact, a part of this. He would have a reaction to Deku waking up, but he may also have a reaction to whatever the omega said to Katsuki.

It was hell wondering over all the possibilities.

In the end, he slept only for a few minutes at a time, being jolted awake by sudden fears and thoughts that haunted his dreams well into the dawn hours.

- - -

Kirishima drove them to the hospital in the morning.

While both pup and alpha were clearly exhausted and a bit grumpy, the beta hummed happily and seemed all too thrilled with life to not annoy the alpha. In fact, Kirishima was lucky Katsuki was spending so much of his energy still battling between his terror at what Deku would say and his need to protect and provide for the omega to really think about anything else.

And luckily for the alpha, Kirishima took the lead on telling Kazue about waiting with him.

“We’re going to play some games and stuff while we wait for your mommy to heal up!” The beta exclaimed to a much less enthusiastic pup. They’d decided not to tell Kazue that today the doctors would be bringing Deku out of his coma just in case something went wrong. It would be devastating to the pup if that were to happen. So instead, Kirishima was doing his best to convince him that they were simply going to try something new to help the omega heal by playing random games in the waiting room and pretending Deku was playing with them.

It was a good enough ploy for what they needed. And hopefully Deku would wake with no problems and they’d be able to reunite omega and pup quickly. But there was a nagging voice at the back of Katsuki’s head that didn’t trust the process.

He was waiting for something to go wrong. That had been his experience with the entire situation. Nothing had gone right yet. Why should this be smooth?

And yet, he so deeply hoped it was easy. That Deku would wake up and it would be over. Not too long ago, Katsuki’s goal had simply been life. Now, he was hoping for wakefulness.

Small steps, small, small, steps. But it was still progress.

At the hospital, Tanaka took Katsuki back immediately, with Kirishima shooting a thumbs up over Kazue’s shoulder as the pup looked on in slight confusion. Katsuki smiled as best he could at the pup, though he was aware that it probably didn’t look much like a smile with how nervous he was.

He tried not to show it as Tanaka led him down the hallway and to Deku’s room. While every day before there had been nobody at the omega’s side, today several people were crowded into the room, all smiles and eager glances.

Deku was looking a lot better today. His arm was still in a cast and there were bandages over his neck, though Katsuki had been told that was just to cover the inappropriate claiming mark while it faded. But other than that, and the machines looked up to him, he looked back to normal.

Tanaka shut the door behind himself and gestured for Katsuki to take a seat next to the omega. Katsuki did so, tentatively, digging his nails into his knees. He watched as the doctor and nurses carefully went around the room, first adjusting some of the machines, then giving Deku some drugs. After a few minutes, they switched off the ventilator, made sure Deku was breathing on his own, and removed the tube from the omega’s throat. An oxygen line was fitted under his nose instead, still making the omega look not quite right, but at least giving him a sense of life.

Yes, that’s what they were doing.

They were bringing Deku back to life.

Katsuki balled his fists up to stop them from shaking.

“All right,” Tanaka approached Deku’s bedside, injected a syringe into his IV line and pressed the plunger down. “Now all we have to do it wait.”

Katsuki told himself not to hold his breath, but he found himself doing it anyway.

He sat at the omega’s side and he waited.

And he waited.

And he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited…

And when the doctor put a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder and suggested he go home for the night with his pup, the alpha didn’t move.

He simply didn’t move.

Chapter Text

Tanaka handed Katsuki over to a bewildered Kirishima. Kazue was sleeping soundly in the beta’s lap, though he stirred awake as Kirishima hurried to Katsuki, asked him what had happened, tried to talk to him despite Katsuki having nothing to say.

“It’s best if you take them home for now,” Tanaka said in a whispered tone.

“Is Midoriya…?” Kirishima didn’t have the courage to say the words. Katsuki wasn’t sure he would have been able to hear them.

But the doctor shook his head. “He’s alive, he just hasn’t woken yet. He just… needs some more time. We’ll contact you if anything changes. Otherwise, they’re welcome to come and sit with him again tomorrow.”

“Mommy?” Kazue muttered, picking his head up.

A little, starved part of Katsuki howled in despair at his pup’s request.

He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t make this right.

A hand on his shoulder steered him onward, Katuski catching a worried look from Kirishima. As much as he didn’t want to show just how much he was crumbling inside, he couldn’t seem to hold himself together.

His hands were shaking too badly.

The beta guided him out to their car, set him in the passenger’s seat, and put Kazue in his seat. Though awake, the pup remained unresponsive, simply watching everything happening around him, not quite understanding. Katsuki stared forward, didn’t react, if only for the sake of his pup. He couldn’t let Kazue see how much this was affecting him. He couldn’t let the pup know how bad it was.

And yet, he could see his pup looking up at him, eyes wide with awe and horror, as if he already knew. Why are you sad?

A noise caught in Katsuki’s throat.

As it did, a hand grabbed his shoulder, held him upright. “Almost there, Kats.” Kirishima muttered.

At a stoplight, he picked up his phone. “Mina, we’re five minutes from the house. Have someone come and get Kazue from the car. I can’t explain, just help me out, okay?” He hung up the phone, turned back to Kazue. “Is it okay if you play with some of the pack for a little while?”

Kazue was very quiet. Kautski didn’t want to turn around to see what was happening in the seat just behind him.

But the pup must have nodded, because Kirishima smiled and said, “That’s a good pup! Don’t worry. You’ll have lots of fun, just like we did at the hospital.”

“Mommy?” The pup asked again, Katsuki sinking deeper into his seat.

Kirishima paused. It wasn’t fair that he was the one having to face this question. It should have been something only for Katsuki to handle. Kazue was his pup, after all. And yet, Katsuki couldn’t face the question.

Because he was now certain that Deku was never going to wake up.

The end wasn’t just coming. It was here.

Deku wasn’t going to come back to him.

Katsuki wasn’t going to get the chance to apologize.

He was going to have to sit at Deku’s side and say goodbye.

He was going to have to bury the omega.

He was going to have to watch his pup lose the only parent he’d ever known.

This time, a slow, keening wail rose up Katsuki’s throat, filled the car with a terrible sound of mourning. Even Kirishima tensed at the noise, distracted just as they pulled up to the house.

“’S’alright, Kats,” the beta said, but his voice was trembling.

“K-Kacchan?” Kazue’s voice was so very small, so very scared.

It echoed again and again in Katsuki’s ear, an accusation in that word, a history that was all burning away.

The car stopped and Kirishima muttered a thank you to every god he could think to name. When Katsuki raised his head, he saw most of the pack crammed into the frame of the front door, with Mina and Uraraka hurrying out to the car.

The door behind Katsuki opened and he felt rather than saw the sudden tension in the beta and omega behind him.

Mina was the one who could break from whatever had stunned them. “Hey, sweetie! Why don’t you come play with us for a little while!”

“Kacchan?” Kazue called again, his voice much steadier than anyone else’s. “Kacchan!”

Katsuki spun in his seat, reached for his pup. He hadn’t commanded his limbs to act, but they did, clawing for the pup being pulled away from him.

No, don’t take him!

Katsuki snarled, found himself shoved against his seat, held in place as his pup was carried quickly out of his sight. He sniffed the air for him but was overwhelmed by his own overpowering alpha scent.

Alpha save pup! Protect pup! Don’t let them take pup away!

He snarled again, found Kirishima pressing against him, trying to hold him back. The beta was shaking under the strain of fighting Katsuki physically but also fighting through his alpha scent.

“Get off,” he hissed. “Let go of me.”

“Kats, stop, please! It’s all right! I promise, it’ll be okay!”

“GET OFF!” Explosions popped along Katsuki’s hand as he reached for the beta, only for strong arms to wrap around him, to hold him still. A glance over both shoulders found him faced with both Iida and Todoroki, both alphas pumping their own alpha scents into the car, trying to dilute his own.

Katsuki snarled, snapped at Todoroki, but the other alpha bore his teeth and refused to move.

“Let me go!” He howled, tried again to struggle free of the beta and alphas. “Where’s my pup? Give me back my pup!”

“Katsuki, stop this! Calm yourself!” Iida’s voice was commanding, some part of Katsuki pausing to listen to the words of his pack alpha.

But just because he heard them didn’t mean he had to listen.

He snarled, snapped this time at Iida, receiving a warning growl in return.

“Let me go or I’ll kill you,” the voice that came from Katsuki wasn’t his own. It was a voice that could usually only be heard inside his own head, away from the world, kept apart from the things that Katsuki cared for, the things it could hurt. In that moment, he relished in the feeling of it being loose, of his alpha running wild, taking control.

“Didn’t you hear me? I’ll kill you. I’ll destroy you! I’ll—” The sudden sensation of someone rubbing against his neck had Katsuki rising up in his seat, every muscle in his body tensed like a spring.

Even wearing scent blockers, Kirishima’s sent was leaking out, Katsuki catching whiffs of it over the overwhelming alpha scents saturating the car. Where the warring alpha scent smelled like ash, iron, smoke, a building burning in a towering inferno, Kirishima’s beta scent was a window opened, a rush of fresh air, salvation amongst the gloom. He had always smelled like that. Like taking a deep, clean breath after sitting in stagnant air. Although he lacked a particular scent, the alpha always knew when he was nearby. The feeling of renewal, of relief, followed wherever he went, allowing Katuski permission to slip into a peaceful moment.

Peace did not come easily. It came in several more snarls that steadily faded into pained groans and the odd whine. It came in smoking palms with burning fingertips and itchy skin. It came in Katsuki slumping against the alphas, giving himself over to them, even if just for the moment.

“It’s all right, Kats,” Kirishima said, again and again. “It’s all right. We’ll make it through. Just trust us, okay?”

Katsuki let out a stiff growl, tried to push Kirishima away, but Iida held him back.

“You’re scaring the pack, Katsuki. Get ahold of yourself,” the pack alpha said sharply.

“Dude,” Kirishima deadpanned, clearly not impressed with Iida’s soothing method.

Iida, however, didn’t back down. “I’m merely appealing to his sensible nature.”

“Katsuki really isn’t the sentimental one,” Todoroki said simply.

“Get off,” Katsuki growled.

Kirishima rubbed against him again. “Not yet. You’re still wound up.”

“I’m fine. I’m calm. Let me go. Where’s Kazue?”

“See? Not calm at all.” Kirishima loosened his grip slightly, and Katsuki didn’t try to resist him. “Just trust us, Kats. Let us take care of you.”

The beta’s words were not unique. Katsuki had heard them more than once during any number of particularly bad moments for any of their packmates.

But Kirishima had never said them to him.

Katsuki wasn’t one for letting others take care of him. He was used to taking care of things himself, for solving problems without turning for help, for doing things for others without them noticing or realizing it was for their benefit. He wasn’t one to reach for help or turn to others for anything.

But in that moment, those words were so precious to him.

He let go, collapsed limply into the alphas’ arms, leaned against Kirishima, drinking in their scents. Now that he had calmed somewhat, he realized the other alphas hadn’t been trying to use their alphas scents to overwhelm him. The only alpha scent lingering in the car was his own – full of fear and desperation and wild, indescribable agony. Along with Kirishima’s scent, Katsuki now realized he could smell the alphas as well, the cool, confident, comforting scent of his pack alpha, Iida always reminding him of a freshly paved racetrack, tar and stone and order. Todoroki, meanwhile, smelled of unmoving mountains and eroding rivers and fresh-turned earth after a storm, of the beautiful, unyielding strength of nature. Even if they were alphas, even if they could, indeed, do very little to calm Katsuki, he found their familiar scents so wonderful in that moment.

Sensing his sudden release, Iida shifted his grip, held Katsuki up rather than back, Todoroki moving to do the same. “The pack is waiting.”

It was not often Katsuki ached for his pack. Alphas typically didn’t need the support of a pack as much as the betas and omegas might. Whenever he’d found himself craving their presence, wanting to surround himself with them, simply sitting in the living room and drinking in their lingering scents was enough.

That day, he ached like he was coming back from war, like he was mortally wounded, like he was dying. The thought of his pack made all those aches fade away.

So when Iida and Todoroki carefully pulled him from the car, when his pack surrounded him, when they brought him into the house, Katsuki gratefully fell against them, let them press in around him, let them fill the emptiness he hadn’t even realized he’d been feeling.

Once it was clear Katsuki had settled, Jiro and Tsu curled up around him, letting their combined calming scents soothe him further, then the betas piled in on top of them, keeping everything pressed together, keeping everyone right where they belonged, and the alphas stood over them, keeping watch. When Katsuki groaned, maybe from pain, maybe from loneliness, the pack called back to him, pressed in around him.

Held him together.

Even as he was convinced his world was falling apart.

- - -

The pack spoke in low, quiet voices to one another, Kirishima relaying what had happened at the hospital. It was soon well understood why Katsuki was acting as he was, the cause of his pain and hopelessness. Through it all, Katsuki listened, but he didn’t move.

He didn’t enjoy this feeling. Being helpless to do anything, at the mercy of whatever was to come. But what else could he do?

The stress of the week was closing in around him, threatening to suffocate him even more than the guilt was. Guilt was something that had curled into his throat and was slowly growing, tearing him apart from the inside. The realization that he was almost certainly going to lose Deku was a weight wrapped around his neck, tight and inescapable, strangling him. He didn’t know which was going to kill him first but dying felt like a better option than trying to see the next day.

The only thought he clung to was Kazue. Even if the worst happened to Deku, he couldn’t leave Kazue alone. He’d have to pull himself together, be there for the pup. And he would.

Somehow, he would.

Eventually, Kirishima moved through the pack, took Katsuki’s arm, pulled him up. “You should eat something.”

“Kazue?” Katsuki asked.

“He’s all right. The omegas will take care of him. Let us take care of you.” Those words again. Katsuki had thought them precious, but the more they rung in his head, the more he was beginning to depise them.

Still, he followed Kirishima, aware of the rest of the betas trailing behind them, the alphas circling even behind them. He could feel that Todoroki, Iida, and Yaoyorozu were all wound up after what had happened. As one of the pack’s alphas, he felt a need to join them, to pace through the house and make sure all was well. Even that urge wasn’t enough to pull him from the fog he seemed to be stumbling through.

Kirishima got him to choke down some food, though what it was Katsuki couldn’t have even guessed, before suggesting he go to bed early.

“Midoriya will be waiting for you in the morning,” the head beta said confidently. “You’ll see. He just needed a little time to wake up.”

Katsuki didn’t know what to say. He went upstairs with the betas, changed into some more comfortable clothes, and went to lay down on his bed, going through the motions, not really paying attention to what he was doing. It was Kirishima who took his hand and pulled him back.

“This way,” he said, tugging Katsuki away from his bed. The alpha paused, suspicion rising up his back, but he followed the betas, allowed himself to be pulled into the pack room at the very center of the house.

It was, as Mina like to call it, the heart of the packhouse. A huge, often sweltering, room full of plush pillows and blankets and poufs all piled together almost like a giant nest. The omegas frequently used this room to spend quality alone time, as omegas apparently needed, and the betas used it as a comfy nap room. While the omegas and betas found comfort in this room, it was often only associated with bad times for the alphas, Katsuki included. It was also used in those times where the pack felt the need to coalesce together, to be as one in a central location. It was a place of togetherness, but it was also a place of deep, painful mourning.

In fact, the last time Katsuki had stepped foot in this room had been… when Yaoyorozu and Todoroki had lost their first child. It had been years now. But Katsuki could still feel the suffocating grief, the heavy weight of loss that surrounded the couple in the days following. When he stepped into that room, he could almost hear the female alpha’s cries of incompleteness, of incomprehensible agony, of the pack’s mourning both the loss and their alphas’ sorrows.

The feeling of dread was so heavy that Katsuki took a step back, but Kirishima held him up, pulled him forward.

“It’s all right,” the head beta smiled at him. “Lay down. Let’s just get some sleep and in the morning, everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

Katsuki didn’t believe him. Couldn’t believe him. And yet, he found he didn’t have the willpower to pull against Kirishima as he led him further into the room.

He hated how weak he felt. How incapable. And yet, his knees were too weak to hold himself up and the nest was incredibly warm and comfortable and it smelled like his pack. And maybe it would be okay to curl up for a couple of hours, just to forget about all the things weighing down on his mind.

The betas curled in around Katsuki, who didn’t settle very well, aching for something, feeling an emptiness in his stomach, and a cold void along his chest.

Slowly, he sat up, even as the betas hummed and purred and called for him to lay back down. “Kazue,” he said quietly, and Kirishima leaped up.

“I’ll get him, stay here.” There was a command in his voice that Katsuki didn’t like. He lifted a lip in a growl that the beta didn’t hear in his rush to leave the room. The other betas crowded in around Katsuki, but he sat very still, unmoving, waiting for the void to be filled.

The door opened and immediately, the smell of cinnamon and burning sugar had Katsuki jerking to life, searching for the source. Kazue was laid against Kirishima’s chest, but when he saw the alpha, he reached for him, Katsuki crooning for the pup, reaching back. When he was in his arms, the world felt better. Not well, but better.

He crooned again, but it dipped off into a groan of despair. Kazue blinked up at his alpha, buried himself into Katsuki’s scent gland, rubbed his cheek along the alpha’s neck.

“Kacchan?” He asked quietly.

Katsuki couldn’t find words to say. He just held this little bundle of life to his chest, allowed the betas to close in around him, to tell him it was going to be okay.

He didn’t think it was going to be okay. He thought it was going to be anything but okay. But Kazue felt so warm in his arms, felt so perfect and beautiful. If Deku passed, then Kazue would be all he had left of the omega. Something so much more precious than anything else on the earth.

“Kacchan?” The pup called again and Katsuki tilted his head toward him, bent his ear to listen. Kazue rubbed against him again. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

As much as Katsuki wanted to believe him, Kazue was only a pup. He didn’t know anything. He didn’t realize just how bad things were.

But Kirishima slid into the space on Katsuki’s side, rubbed against the other side of his neck. “Yeah, like he said. Midoriya will be okay. You’re not going to just give up now, are you? There’s still so much to fight for.”

So much to…

Katsuki tucked the pup under his chin, let out a satisfied growl. “Let’s just get some sleep,” he said.

Although there was a lot that could have been said, nothing was. The betas curled in around alpha and pup, lulled them toward sleep. Katsuki kept his arms wrapped around Kazue, who was soon dozing contently, buried into his chest. He was so small. Small and fragile, but he was still perfect.

Katsuki breathed in his pup’s scent, let it carry him to sleep.

- - -

Kirishima took them back to the hospital the next day. Kazue refused to engage much with him, to the point where Katsuki knew he was having an effect on the pup.

They’d gotten up that morning and Katsuki had gone about his normal routine in that same daze, only slightly more aware than he had been the previous night. In the back of his mind, he still felt the incoming loss of the omega, the deep void of despair waiting to reach up and claim him.

But while Deku still lived, he couldn’t give up fighting, couldn’t abandon the hope that he would see the omega awake and happy and safe again.

When they arrived at the hospital, Kirishima was the one who picked up Kazue, pressed him to his scent gland and rubbed comfortingly against him. Kazue accepted his scenting, not putting up a fuss or even reacting much at all. Katsuki doubted Kirishima had even noticed he’d scented the pup. At this point, it was an instinctual reaction to the numbness the beta felt from them. Katsuki knew Kazue’s scent was weak and faded, an extension of just how the pup felt. Even knowing this, he didn’t really know what he could do to fix it. Deku surely would have known. But Deku wasn’t there.

Deku wasn’t there…

He turned to the beta when they reached the waiting room. “You sure you’re going to be okay with him?”

Kirishima smiled, just as he would any other time. “Of course! Don’t worry about us. You just let us know when you need us.”

Somehow, Katsuki got the impressive that Kirishima was still expecting to reunite Deku and Kazue today. Katsuki wasn’t so sure. His more primal fears had overwhelmed his need to see his pup and omega back together. Now, he was once again just hoping to see Deku live.

It was with a nervous step he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with that he took that hallway back to Deku’s room. He hadn’t even waited for Tanaka to come get him this time. He simply let his feet take him where he most wanted to go.

Outside the omega’s room, he found Tanaka in a whispered, hissed discussion with one Inspector Tsukauchi, Detective Ito hovering over them, a grim line along his face.

“Hey,” Katsuki hadn’t even really meant to call out, but it was his voice that broke through the murmur down the hallway. Doctor, inspector, and detective turned sharply, not expecting him to be there. But there he was and there was a pit beginning to burn in his stomach. “What’s going on? Is Deku awake?”

Tsukauchi was the first to recover. “Good morning, Bakugo. We weren’t expecting you.”

“Bullshit. I’ve been coming here every day since Deku was admitted. What’s going on?” Instead of waiting for someone to answer him, Katsuki peered through the window, saw the omega still laying in his bed. The only solace was they hadn’t put him back on the ventilator, so he was still breathing for himself at least.

But it was still all wrong.

The alpha turned to Tanaka, the doctor clearly biting at the inside of his cheek. “So? What happened? Why didn’t he wake up?”

The doctor sighed deeply. “We always knew this was a possibility. But it is unusual.”

“We’re still exploring some options,” Tsukauchi said simply. It didn’t go unnoticed that he purposefully cut off the doctor. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, squared up to the inspector. “You say that as if you think this isn’t unusual in the normal sense. You think something’s going on.” Tsukauchi refused to say anything, but the doctor was looking nervous. Katsuki glared him down. “Something to do with the attack?”

Where Tsukauchi and Tanaka remained quiet, staring at him, Ito stepped forward. “We think so.”

“Ito!” Tsukauchi said sharply, turning on the younger detective.

Ito, however, never flinched. “He’s a hero! And he has a personal stake in this. He’s exactly who we need.”

“What are you talking about?” Katsuki turned to Tsukauchi, the inspector’s lips pulled thin. “If it’s something that could help Deku, then tell me.”

Whether it was the growl in his voice or the words themselves, Tsukauchi turned his sharp glare to the alpha. Katuski wasn’t one to back down and he certainly wasn’t going to in that moment. He dug in his heels, threatened a snarl as the inspector studied him.

The tension was only broken when Tanaka carefully cleared his throat. “If I may, Inspector,” he said quietly, “I would give my blessings to this if Bakugo was chosen to participate.”

“This could lead us to the end of the case,” Ito continued, urgent, desperate, and not bothering to hide it. “We could get this bastard!”

“It’s too rash,” Tsukauchi countered.

Katsuki growled. “You think I can’t handle it?”

“That’s not the problem. It’s—” the inspector cut himself off, glared between doctor, detective, and hero. Finally, he sighed. “Let’s take this conversation somewhere a bit more private. Your office, Doctor?”

- - -

As soon as the door closed to the doctor’s office – plain, white-walled, only a single picture of a pup a couple years older than Kazue on the otherwise empty wooden desk – Katsuki spun on the inspector. “Talk. What’s going on?”

“We believe something happened during the attack that has caused Midoriya to remain unresponsive,” Ito said, earning a sharp glare from Tsukauchi, though he said nothing to stop the detective. “Either something to do with the nature of the attack or something to do with the alpha himself. And we have a way to try to figure it out.”

“Something I can help with?” Katsuki pressed, to which Tsukauchi finally stepped forward.

“Enough,” he said. He tugged at his tie, loosened it slightly before taking a seat with a sigh. “Sit down, Bakugo. Doctor? Would you like to share what you’ve found?”

Katsuki did not sit, but he turned his attention to Tanaka. The doctor had taken his seat behind his desk and was staring over intertwined fingers. He shook his head at the inspector’s question. “After you left, we ran several tests to see if we could find what had happened. Since Midoriya is breathing on his own, he should have woken up within hours of the reversal being administered. Since he didn’t react, we thought there might be a medical reason. But we found nothing.” He shifted uneasily, scratched at his chin. “It’s been long enough that we are concerned whether we should place him back into a medical coma so we can control his breathing a little better.”

“So this could kill him is what you’re saying?” Katsuki said.

The doctor shook his head. “We just don’t know.”

“And that’s why it’s so important we figure this out,” Ito turned to Tsukauchi. “That’s why we should take the risk.”

Tsukauchi still looked uncomfortable, arms crossed over his chest, refusing to look anywhere except forward.

Katsuki purposefully placed himself in the inspector’s line of view, caught his attention, held it. “Tell me.”

The inspector tapped his arm, wrinkled his nose. Then, he said, “We have a resource with a unique Quirk. She can allow someone to relive the memories of another person.”

Katsuki stepped forward at the news. Someone who could relive a person’s memories? Someone who could see what had happened to Deku? Someone who could see the face of the alpha who had attacked them?

“There are serious drawbacks though,” Tsukauchi’s voice rose up through Katsuki’s thoughts, even as he began realizing the connotations of such an experience would be. “Someone has to volunteer to actually relive the memories themselves. And in this case, Midoriya has gone through an extremely traumatic event. Not just anyone would be able to live through his memories. And there are legal implications. It is a huge breach of privacy.”

“That’s all right,” Katsuki growled, set his teeth to stop himself from snarling. “Let me help. I don’t care if Deku is mad at me as long as we can find a way to help him and stop the alpha who attacked him and Kazue.”

“It’s less about how the omega feels and more about worries with the actual law,” Tsukauchi said.

“Then we’ll say you teamed up with my agency and I was working as an agent of the police department.” Katsuki snapped his jaws impatiently. “We’re running out of time. Call this person in! I’ll sit through whatever I have to to help Deku, and I’ll bear any consequences later. Just as long as he makes it through, then I don’t care.”

Even as Katsuki spoke, he didn’t see any change in Tsukauchi’s demeanor. He’d worked with the inspector enough to know he was stubborn about the rules, even in circumstances like this.

In this one moment, he was grateful to have someone like Ito there. “This could be our only chance to find the alpha, and to save Midoriya,” the detective brought his voice a little lower, almost pleading with his superior.

Tsukauchi said nothing, but he closed his eyes. Although the alpha wanted to argue, Katsuki held his tongue, waited for what the inspector would say.

His words came with a snort, then as sharp, crisp syllables. “Fine. But only to save the omega’s life.”

- - -

It was explained beforehand that coming out of particularly traumatic memories could trigger violent reactions and with Katsuki’s dangerous Quirk, he was told he’d have to wear Quirk-canceling cuffs to prevent him from accidentally harming anyone.

Though annoying, Katsuki understood and he agreed at once. It was a small inconvenience for what it meant to both Deku and the investigation.

Tsukauchi called in for the necessary equipment and whoever this Quirk-user was while Katsuki took a quiet moment to sit at Deku’s side.

He’d already explained to Kirishima what they were going to try and they’d decided it was better if he just took Kazue back to the packhouse. The pup had resisted, screaming and crying and batting his little fists against the beta when he’s tried to take him away. Even the presence of a new blanket coated in Deku’s scent hadn’t help. It wasn’t until Kirishima took that same blanket and had Katsuki scent it himself that the pup calmed somewhat, surrounded by both his alpha and omega’s scents. Though Katsuki gave nothing away, he felt his chest swell a little at seeing his pup calmed by his scent.

Heartwarming.

That’s what it was.

But with the pup now gone and Katsuki alone, sitting at Deku’s side, he wasn’t feeling so well anymore. The omega looked unchanging. Although the only marks of his previous injuries were the cast on his arm and the bandages covering the now healed-over bite marks on his neck, he still looked so unwell. Even if Katsuki couldn’t name it, he knew when he looked down at Deku that something was seriously wrong. He just had to hope this little excursion into his memories would help.

Tsukauchi’s warnings about how invasive this would ultimately be was starting to churn in Katsuki’s stomach. As much as he didn’t want to invite himself into Deku’s personal affairs anymore, he couldn’t stand by while the omega was in danger. They had to find a way to wake him up. There was no other choice at the moment.

He also wasn’t necessarily looking forward to the entire process. Being chained up wasn’t particularly appealing, obviously, and neither was having to live through what was probably going to be some of the worst moments of the omega’s life. He was going to have to watch the omega and his pup be hurt without having any ability to stop it. And that wasn’t going to be easy.

But he steeled himself, told himself he could make it through, that in the end, it was going to help Deku and help them find the alpha who had done this.

It would be okay.

Even if it was going to be hell.

It didn’t take very long before the alpha and omega were joined by a conveyer line of doctors, nurses, police investigators, and an elderly woman slightly hunched over who swatted at a nurse’s hand when she offered it to her. She walked straight to Katsuki, shoving a large hook nose ornamented by glasses with lens about an inch thick into his face. Katsuki bit down on a snarl, only a hiss seething between his teeth. The woman narrowed her eyes slightly, then leaned back with a huff.

“He won’t do.”

“Hey!” Katsuki snapped. “The hell you mean?”

“I mean, young alpha, that you’re not prepared to face what this would put you through.” The old woman gave a short groan as she lowered herself into a chair provided by the nurses.

Katsuki waited until she had settled before he leaned into her face, much as she had done to him, and hissed, “Try me.”

A finger poked deep into his cheek, the alpha growling in warning, though the old woman took no notice. “This is exactly why. This isn’t a game or a challenge or a way to test your mettle. This is so much more than that.”

“Um, Madame Akage,” Tanaka said, though the old woman cut him off with a click of her jaw. Katsuki was startled to hear the alpha reaction from her.

“Mai, please. Madame Akage was my mother. Now,” she pointed at Katsuki again. “If this is going to continue, you’re going to have to convince me that you’re not just some boneheaded alpha.”

“Rest assured, I’m not,” Katsuki growled, but bit down on a more aggressive snarl. “Deku is incredibly important to me. I’ll do anything, go through any pain, for him. So I’m more than ready for this.”

Mai blinked over her glasses at him, scoffed. “That’s even worse.”

This time, it was Katuski’s turn to snap his jaw. The older alpha narrowed her eyes, gestured for him to sit. “Let me tell you about my Quirk, young alpha. Sit, be silent, and maybe you might just learn something.”

There was a lot Katsuki wanted to say. But he wasn’t stupid. He knew a good moment to shut up when he saw one, though admittedly he rarely took it. In that moment, he kept his glare, but sat silently, waiting as patiently as he could.

Mai leaned back, for the first time turning to take in Deku. The omega was unmoving, more like a fixture than a living being. Being so close to him yet unable to reach out to him, unable to comfort him, still, brought all the anxiety and grief and guilt back to the surface.

But he held it back.

There was a chance, a hope, that he could finally do something to bring Deku back. He held onto that hope, used it to pull himself through the darkness.

When he turned back to Mai, he found the old alpha glaring right back at him.

She took in a breath, rubbed her hands over one another. “Do you know how many times Tsukauchi has called me in? Seven.” She let the word fill the room, let the silence fester into something deep and sticky and unnerving. For as useful as her Quirk could be to the police, to hear she’d only been called upon so few times? Katsuki understood the significance.

The old alpha, however, continued, “Do you know how many times I’ve seen someone lose their minds because of my Quirk? Four.” She didn’t pause to give him time to consider an answer. She said it as if flinging it into his face.

Katsuki did not flinch. “I’m not as weak as they were.”

“Strength or weakness has nothing to do with it,” she growled. “It’s about control. Can you control yourself while watching someone else live through hell? While watching someone you care for go through hell?” She snorted. “I want an impartial professional or I won’t agree to proceed.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Katsuki growled, leaned forward, didn’t back down while the older alpha narrowed her gaze. “Anything it takes. I can endure.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I owe Deku to endure it.”

Mai shifted slightly, pushed her glasses up her nose. Watched him.

One of the nurses coughed. The alpha had forgotten they weren’t the only ones in the room, because all that mattered was the older alpha and the sick omega. The other extras didn’t matter. Not in this moment.

Neither Tsukauchi nor Ito had moved. Katsuki couldn’t tell if they’d even breathed since they’d entered the room. Only Tanaka dared move, shifting slightly, raising his hand, though he stiffened when Mai’s arm snapped up, signaling him to stop.

She laned back into her seat, tilted her head as if to get a better angle of Katsuki.

Was silent for a moment longer.

Then, she said, “This is how this will go,” she spoke with a lowered voice, quiet, intentional. Katsuki had to focus to hear her words. So he did. “You will walk alongside the memory of this omega. You’ll see all he saw, but you’ll also feel everything as well. Not the physical sensations, but the emotions. Memory is built from emotion. You won’t be able to escape it. Everything the omega was feeling, through everything that happened, you will experience it as he did. You won’t be able to get away from it. You won’t be able to turn it off. You’ll just have to live through it, no matter how painful it is, no matter how much your own emotions are running wild. But most importantly, you cannot let your instincts rule you. If your alpha takes over, you will try to save the omega, and let me be very clear, you won’t be able to save him. That’s how you’ll lose yourself.”

The more she spoke, the more Katsuki felt the dread return. As much as he never wanted to admit it, Deku always triggered his instincts worse than anything else. He’d always struggled reigning himself in around the omega.

That’s the reason you gave yourself when you abandoned him. You told yourself you had to let him go because of it. Katsuki ground his teeth, tried to ignore the voice. It refused to be silent, to go unheard. That’s the excuse you used to let this happen. This happened because you couldn’t control yourself, and you blamed him for that.

That’s why I have to set it right now.

He had to do this.

Prove he was stronger now.

Prove he had learned.

Prove he cared enough about Deku to swallow his own selfish needs and desires and just endure.

Prove that he wanted to atone, that he could atone. One step at a time.

And if this was what Deku had gone through, then Katsuki wanted to feel it too. This was his fault, after all. He deserved this pain. This was a pain owed to him. And he could accept that.

Katsuki lowered his chin. “I told you. Anything.”

The older alpha took in a breath, released it in a sigh that had her shoulders sagging, her head lowering, as if in resignation of what she knew was going to happen.

She glanced to Tsukauchi. Nodded. “You won’t blame me, no matter what may happen.”

Katsuki growled, clicked his tongue. “Enough talk. Let’s get going.”

- - -

The cuffs were uncomfortable to say the least, tight around his wrists, his fingers tingling, his palms slick with sweat.

It was the farthest thing from Katsuki’s mind.

He only half watched as doctors and nurses went around the room, preparing. Deku was sat up, his vitals checked and rechecked, pain medication fed through his IV line. Tsukauchi and Ito both sat nearby, looking grim, though Ito had a spark of hope in his clenched teeth, his curled fists, his determined glare.

Mai sat between Katsuki and Deku, reclined back, eyes closed, unbothered by all the goings on around her.

When Tanaka muttered, “We’re ready,” she sat forward.

“Very well.” She caught Katsuki’s gaze. “Are you ready, young alpha?”

Did she even know his name? Did she even care?

Perhaps she didn’t show it, but Katsuki suspected she did. There was a tired look beneath her well-worn glare. For all her bravado, she was exhausted.

Katsuki understood that well.

He nodded. “Ready.”

She blinked once, slow, cat-like. “Close your eyes, then. Imagine yourself going to sleep.”

It was impossible to get comfortable, but Katsuki leaned back, closed his eyes.

Thought of Deku.

Tried to remember his laugh, his smile, his light.

A hand touched his arm, and Deku’s light burned into darkness.

Chapter Text

Please see author's note above before reading farther.

Katsuki jolted awake to a completely white void.

He was laying on the ground, though what the ground could be, he didn’t really know. Because there was nothing around him, nothing at all. He laid on that emptiness, on that nothingness, on an incorporeal space he didn’t quite comprehend.

And yet, he wasn’t scared.

He felt quite contented actually, happy, relaxed.

He felt at peace.

Slowly, he sat up, shook his head. It took him a moment to remember what was happening. This was supposed to be Deku’s memory, but there was nothing here, nothing for as far as Katsuki could see.

He bit at his lip, got to his feet, found it a bit unnerving to be standing on nothing. Had something gone wrong? Had Mai’s Quirk failed? Were Deku’s memories gone? Katsuki hoped it was the last option. Yes, that would mean maybe they couldn’t use Mai’s Quirk to find out what had happened, but at least it also meant the omega didn’t remember the horrible things done to him.

As he stood there, contemplating what he was going to do, the world started to take shape. It grew from behind him, as if someone were drawing the world in ink, lines flowing outward into vague shapes of buildings and trees and people walking about. Although their forms moved around as any normal person would, their faces were all blank, empty slates, many of them looking nearly identical to one another. There was something unnerving about it, the world being drawn right in front of him, but Katsuki snapped to attention as something rushed past him.

It was the only color in the otherwise drab, abstract world, and it didn’t take him long to realize what he was looking at.

Kazue, fully realized in color and appearance. He looked so real, so detailed, compared to the other people who walked past Katsuki that he felt his heart drop. Was the pup here? How? It couldn’t be. He wasn’t even at the hospital! Why was he here?

But his answer came swiftly as someone else in full color and detail walked past him, following in the pup’s heels.

It was almost strange to see Deku awake and moving, to see him alive. Katsuki could immediately pick out the little details he’d missed, the things covered up by lifesaving machines and bandages.

His hair was cut back some, not quite combed but at least under control now. He was a bit taller, but still lean, despite having his pup. His pale skin was pulled over surprisingly muscled arms, his stride forward confident, easy. A pair of sunglasses rested on the tip of his nose, hiding his viridian eyes, a couple of shopping bags in his hand. He was wearing jeans and a plain t-shirt with a jacket over it. There was an aura about him that was a bit unfamiliar to Katsuki. Deku had always had a nervous side. While that nervousness remained, it was being overpowered by a sense of purpose, of poise, of serenity.

Though faint, the omega was smiling.

As soon as the omega walked past Katsuki, the world quickly faded back into the white void, erased from under his feet. He hurried to catch up to Deku, kept stride with him and the world that existed only around him.

Everything Mai had said couldn’t have prepared him for this. The memory was strange, the only spots of color Deku and Kazue, the pup calling out and giggling, turning frequently to make sure his omega was right behind him. Likewise, Deku kept his attention fixed on Kazue, his eyes flicking away only every now and then.

When his eyes moved away from Kazue, things in the world would light up in details and sometimes even color, becoming the omega’s focus for a moment before fading into the background when he lost interest. It made sense to Katsuki that the omega not remember every little detail of his world, to just see what he needed to to move forward.

The only constant was the little pup, his delighted giggling echoing over the murmur of those passing by, his colors the most vibrant, his form fully realized in a world of black white lines.

And it made complete sense. After all, Deku’s entire world was Kazue.

They walked down the street, perhaps going home after their shopping trip, perhaps heading to another shop. Katsuki couldn’t really tell. He tried to look around the world, but quickly found it useless, as he could only see what Deku had noticed, what he remembered, and those details were vague at best.

Out of curiosity, and maybe a need of his own, he leaned into the omega and sniffed him. Deku didn’t have a scent here. In fact, this world was void of scents. Disturbing to say the least, though it quickly fell out of Katsuki’s thoughts when Kazue shrieked suddenly and Deku’s world exploded in color around the pup.

The omega became acutely aware of his pup and what was happening around him, searching for what was going on. The shift was so sudden that Katsuki was frozen in place, feeling more than a little overwhelmed and scared.

But no, that wasn’t it.

He wasn’t scared at all.

This was what Deku was feeling.

His emotions cleared quickly and the world faded back to a pinpoint when the omega realized the pup had picked something up off the ground and was trying to show it to him.

“Look, Mom, look!” The pup raced back to Deku, their world collapsing in as Deku crouched forward to examine what Kazue was holding up to him.

It was a butterfly pin, perfectly intact, despite laying on the street.

“Oh, that’s pretty, Kazue,” Deku’s voice sent shivers down Katsuki’s spine. It had been five years since he’d heard the omega speak and while he could have picked his voice out from an entire crowd of people, the voice from Deku wasn’t exactly his own. It was slightly warped, damped and muted in tone even if it still rang through the world like any other voice.

Must be how Deku hears his own voice. Though it made sense, the thought was weird. That Deku didn’t hear himself correctly, that he couldn’t hear the wonderfully pleasant ring of his voice, didn’t hear how musical he could sound, especially in times when he got particularly lost in thought, made Katsuki a little sad. But it was still Deku’s voice. Even if it wasn’t exactly right.

“Can I keep it?” Kazue bounced up and down, his eyes gleaming.

The omega’s smile softened. “Mmm, would you use it?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“What for?” The pup stopped bouncing, stood very still, clearly thinking. After waiting for a moment, Deku chuckled. “How about we see if Ms. Sano can give it to one of the other pups? Maybe they would like it.”

Kazue pouted, balled up his fists. “But—!”

“Kazue,” Deku’s voice dipped in warning as the pup continued to pout, “it could make someone else very happy, just like it made you happy.”

At this, Kazue stopped, narrowed his eyes slightly. Then, with a sigh, he nodded, handed the pin to Deku.

Deku laughed, pocketed the pin, and took Kazue’s hand.

“That’s my little firecracker. C’mon, let’s go—”

There came a moment that stretched into eternity, a second that carried through several more heartbeats than it should have. A moment when Deku’s gaze lifted and the world filled in and for the first time, both the omega and Katsuki realized someone was standing right in front of them. Every hair on Katsuki’s body rose. He felt a swell of unease and fear climbing up his back as the person came quickly into focus, as he filled in with color, as the omega faced the alpha standing in front of him.

The first thing Katsuki noticed about the alpha was his teeth. Jagged. But not like Kirishima’s. His teeth were jagged and grinning and sharp in the way a predator’s might be, crowded inside his entire mouth. He had thin curtains of black hair hanging past his shoulders, small, dart-like eyes that glared down at the pup and omega. Deku had never been a big guy, but the alpha towered over him, towered over even Katsuki. He was so tall that Katsuki wondered briefly if Deku only remembered him being this tall. There was no way he was so big. His shadow loomed over them, all-encompassing, all consuming. It made Katsuki want to snarl.

But of course, it wouldn’t change anything.

The thought came crashing through his mind, along with so many others. Katsuki stared up at the grinning alpha and thought that he was going to have to watch him violate and nearly kill the omega standing beside him, that he was going to have to witness everything that had happened to Deku that had to him laying half dead in a hospital bed.

He realized he was looking into the face of the alpha that was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Uh,” the omega gave a nervous laugh, pulled Kazue a little closer to him, edged around the alpha, “excuse us.”

The alpha turned to watch them, but he didn’t move as Deku urged Kazue down the street. The pup turned to look back, but as he wasn’t in Deku’s line of sight anymore, the alpha was quickly fading away. Fear was still making Katsuki’s heart pound, perhaps just as the omega’s had pounded in that moment. It was hard for him to separate out what his emotions were versus what Deku was feeling, hard to parse through what was happening in his own head to what he imagined was happening in the omega’s. He could almost hear Deku chiding himself, telling himself he was just being silly, felt his heart hesitantly begin to slow in response.

“Mommy?” Kazue asked.

“Mmm, what?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, ha,” Deku paused to pick Kazue up, rearranging his bags so he could hold the pup on his hip, hurried down the street. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Kazue considered his omega, seemed to think over something. Then, he tilted his head back. “Mommy, do you think Ms. Sano would let me keep that pin?”

Deku managed a laugh, but it was nervous and strained, strings pulled tightly in his chest. The world around them had reduced in size to nearly only the street in front of them, but more things appeared and lingered in color, the omega hyper focused on everything around him, so much so that even the pup in his arms was starting to fade in color slightly. “I don’t think you should. You want to make the other pups happy too, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but they don’t have to keep it, right? I could keep it!”

“You could, but what would you do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Kazue bumped his head into Deku’s neck. “Mommy, why’s that man following us?”

The world flared into sharp colors, the street in front of Deku receding as he snapped over his shoulder and the alpha flaring into existence. He walked at a steady pace toward the omega and the pup, still with that same grin in his teeth.

Dread crept up along Katuski’s back. He could tell where his dread ended and Deku’s began. His own emotion was washed in the realization that he knew the end of this altercation. He knew what was coming. And he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Meanwhile, the omega’s fear was spawned from the unknown, the uncertainty of why the alpha was following them, why he was grinning at them. Deku’s dread was sharp, jittery, where Katsuki’s was deep, fathomless. It was nearly paralyzing to be in that moment, to watch as the alpha approached omega and pup, knowing what he did, feeling Deku begin to realize something was very, very wrong.

Just endure. Katsuki ground his teeth together. Get through this.

Kazue glanced to his omega, took in the tightness of his face, the barely-concealed look of dismay, and turned a glare toward the alpha. “Hey, you!” Panic drew a soft chirp from Deku, a warning not to speak, but he called out, “Stop it! You’re scaring my Mom!”

“Enough, Kazue,” Deku drew the pup to his chest, glanced up the street. People in front of him lit up in color, ones and twos, until he spotted a group gathered and rushed toward them. It was a smart idea. Staying around people, in general, would deter any unwelcome behavior. So Deku went to that street corner, stood right in the middle of the crowd. Katsuki followed, saw, just as Deku saw, that the alpha followed, stopped just beyond the group. Felt, just as Deku had felt, the sudden, paralyzing fear that had taken hold.

Kazue had wrapped his arms around Deku’s neck, was looking more and more uncertain. People in the crowd around Deku were glancing at him. He must have been giving off a soured scent subconsciously. Katsuki could feel just how panicked he was, could almost hear his thoughts as they raced through his head. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what this alpha wanted. Hew didn’t know where to turn for help.

But as he stood there, surrounded by people and with an alpha bearing down on him, Deku suddenly stopped, took a breath, held it, eyes closed. Katsuki was struck, recognizing the motion. Kazue had done just this when upset by the nurse in the hospital. And as with the pup, he felt the omega calming, his mind taking over from his panicked instincts. He reoriented himself, shifted Kazue in his arms.

Whatever plan he had, Katsuki knew it was doomed to fail. Deku wasn’t going to be able to get out of this situation unscathed. It was only a matter of time.

But Deku still opened his eyes, a grim line of determination along his face, not knowing his fate.

When the pedestrian lights changed, he barged his way through the crowd, ignoring the noises of protest that followed him. He was aware of the alpha as well, following after him, quick glances over his shoulder keeping track of just where he was. But as the crowds going opposite ways converged, Deku, being smaller and more agile, slid through everyone, and the alpha was caught in the rush of people, slowed significantly as he tried to lumber his way after the omega. Deku kept an eye on his progress, but his focus flickered up the street as well, the entire sidewalk lighting up as he examined it.

As he did, Katsuki glanced up at the street signs, took careful note of them. Deku’s eyes flickered briefly to them, a name filling in just long enough for the hero to read it, before the omega’s focus went back up the street, the sign falling into the white void of the empty world around them.

Just two blocks down, a shop bloomed into existence, growing more and more detailed as Deku realized what it was. Katsuki vaguely remembered Ito saying Deku lived above a shop. Surely he wasn’t going to lead the alpha straight to his home? Katsuki knew he wasn’t that stupid. Was he just panicking?

But no, that wasn’t it. The closer they got to the shop, the more Katsuki realized it was an omega nesting store. Lone alphas weren’t allowed in such shops without being accompanied by one of the storekeepers, a check on predatory alphas stalking omegas while they may be in a vulnerable state close to their heats. If Deku got to the shop, he could alert someone to the alpha and get him either thrown out or at least get some distance between them.

It was a smart plan. Katsuki wasn’t surprised Deku had come up with it so quickly and under such pressure.

But again, he knew it wasn’t going to work.

The hopeless of it all pressed against Katsuki’s chest, cold fingers squeezing his insides in a vice that refused to loosen. But he didn’t let himself linger on it, taking in as many details as he could, looking for anything that might be helpful to the police investigation.

Because that’s why hew as there, reliving this. To help the police track down this bastard.

Not to stop this from happening.

Because he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t change what was going to happen, had indeed already happened.

Don’t think about it. Don’t let your instincts take over. That’s how you’ll lose yourself. Mai’s words were ringing in Katsuki’s ears, her warning, her disbelief in his ability to make it through. But he would.

He had to.

Just look for what can help us find him, what could help Deku.

It was more than difficult to remain focused, especially with the lingering pit of tension in his chest from the omega. So he looked around, saw what Deku had noticed in the environment, remembering all he could.

Once they reached the sidewalk, Deku scanned the area, different parts of the street filling in with detail and color. A bench, a mailbox, a light post. Katsuki wasn’t sure what he was looking for. All he knew was that when Deku glanced over his shoulder, the street behind them outlined, but the figure of the alpha was gone.

For a second, the omega froze. The pit in his stomach was slowly curling inward, doubt sprouting like tendrils throughout his stomach. It only lasted until someone jostled his shoulder and knocked Deku forward, continuing down the street.

Halfway to the nesting store, the memory now detailed enough for Katsuki to read its name – Plush Haven – with Deku still looking around, perhaps searching for the alpha, perhaps looking for things he could use to get away, Kazue shifted in his arms, putting the omega slightly off balance. He readjusted, pressing the pup tightly to his chest, and Kazue suddenly chirped sharply. Both Deku and Katsuki realized what had happened as Kazue reached for the ground, the sidewalk burning into color to reveal the butterfly pin, laying at Deku’s feet.

“Mom!” The pup whined, trying to get out of the omega’s arms.

“Leave it, Kazue,” there was a clear command in Deku’s voice as he walked on.

“No! I want it!”

“Kazue! I said leave it!”

The pup growled, shoved against the omega, managing to tumble from his arms and race back down the street.

“Kazue!” There came a panicked pitch to Deku’s voice, but the pup gave an excited shriek as he picked up the butterfly pin.

All eyes went to him, drawn instinctually by the cries of the young pup. As they did, only Katsuki noticed as someone flashed into existence just at Deku’s side, as arms wrapped around his mouth and chest, as the omega was yanked silently into the nearby alleyway, nobody the wiser.

The world receded around Katsuki, the street slipping out from beneath his feet, but he simply couldn’t move. His head was splitting open, his alpha brain reacting immediately, demanding he race forward to help the omega, while something else was screaming inside of him. Some horrific panic that made his bones ache and his muscles twitch. As much as he knew it was Deku’s fear, it felt so deeply ingrained at his core that he stood, wanting to scream and rage.

It took all his willpower to move forward, to steady himself as best he could, and follow the outline of the alley into its very depths, knowing very well where he was headed. Eventually, the world expanded around him, revealing the alpha trying to wrestle Deku under control. Some of the omega’s initial panic had subsided, overruled by a desperate need to fight, to get away, to survive. The will to fight and live warred with the alpha part of Katsuki’s brain, made him sink a bit lower into his feet and growl deeply as he watched the scene before him unfold. The omega twisted and screamed and tried to elbow the alpha, who growled threateningly, using his larger size to simply overpower Deku. Katsuki tried not to focus on the attack itself, paying more attention to the alpha, noticing only the terrifying grin of teeth, the snarl of sadistic glee.

Katsuki’s growl deepened into a snarl and his hands popped with heat, though he desperately kept his fists clenched, clawed for breath, tried to keep his mind from spinning out of control.

“Mommy!” Kazue’ voice brought everything to a sudden stop, the pup splashing through the black and white alley in bright colors as Deku realized he was there. All his fear and all his determination evaporated in the face of something brighter than the sun, the omega shocked, stilled. The sudden absence of Deku’s emotions had Katsuki stumbling, gasping, feeling incredibly empty very suddenly. Neither he nor Deku could gather themselves to react more than just to stare at the little pup standing in the mouth of the alley.

The alpha, however, turned toward him, seemed to look him up and down.

And he smiled.

“There you are,” the alpha’s voice was chilling, calm, controlled, and he reached for the pup.

Katsuki didn’t really know what was going to happen, until he saw Deku jerk suddenly, managing to sink his teeth into the alpha’s hand. The alpha snarled, surprised, but the omega was focused now, the only emotion Katsuki feeling from him was present and pressing instinct. There was only one thing in the world that mattered in that moment, and that was Kazue. Katsuki felt the burning inferno of need to protect his pup, just as he’d felt it himself, just as he felt it in that moment, his entire body quivering, aching to be unleashed.

Stop. He wanted to say, watching helplessly as the alpha grabbed at Deku, as Deku twisted, unable to get away.

As Kazue suddenly charged toward the alpha and omega, not realizing the danger.

Something in Katsuki snapped. He raced forward, reached to grab the pup. His fingers slipped through Kazue, the hero screeching, his vision tunneling.

Where’s my pup?

“Let go of my Mommy! Stop being mean!”

When he looked up, he saw Kazue beating his little fists against the alpha’s leg. Katsuki felt a single thread of panic tighten within himself as Deku’s eyes widened. He watched as the alpha growled, and grabbed for the pup.

Katsuki snarled just as Deku thrashed, let out a snarl of his own, and lunged at the alpha. The omega latched his teeth onto the alpha’s ear, the alpha howling, trying to beat Deku away. The omega held on until, in his flailing, the alpha knocked Kazue over, the pup yelping. Agony pierced through Katsuki as he once again reached for Kazue, only to watch his fingers slip through.

Stop! He let out a howl, watching Kazue rolled over to look for his omega, tears streaming down his face.

Then, Deku snarled, jerked sharply, and the alpha screamed. Katsuki felt a bit of bitter triumph sour his tongue as the alpha stumbled, grabbing his ear and Deku finally slipped out of his grip. He spat, a bit of flesh splattering onto the ground.

Kazue blinked, his eyes glazing over as Deku grabbed him, picked him up, ran. Without a thought, Katsuki found himself running beside the omega, positioning himself to best cover him and the pup, his palms slick with anticipation for the fight ahead. Deku’s focus was inconsistent, Katsuki’s chest tight, his mind picking out the little details that lit up along the alley as the omega searched for a way out, for anything that could save them. What he forgot to do was focus on what was right in front of him.

A wall towered before them, hope dropping from its top to splatter at their feet as the omega stood before it, with Kazue bundled in his arms. Slowly, the alley behind Deku lined out, the form of the alpha coming into focus as Deku very suddenly realized he was trapped.

Slowly, he looked down at Kazue. Even with the alpha looming, the pup was the brightest, most clear thing in that alley. Even Deku himself had faded slightly as the omega’s focus sharpened on his pup alone. Katsuki felt himself breathing as the omega breathed, realized again that he was, in fact, feeling different forms of panic within himself. From Deku, he felt the omega’s will to survive, to protect his pup, his absolute agony at the realization that he might not be able to. From himself, he felt a sinking pit of despair opening up, a maw of sharp teeth at its bottom.

Katsuki thought he knew what was coming.

However, he wasn’t expecting to feel a trickle of warmth in his chest, to see Deku smile lovingly at Kazue, to rub against him soothingly.

“It’s going to be okay,” the omega whispered. “Just stay right here, all right?”

Kazue made a small noise, maybe of fear, maybe of confusion, maybe of both. He dug his fingers into Deku’s arms as the omega lowered him to the ground, let him go. He whined, reaching for mom, Katsuki feeling a little faint, his head swarmed with something he couldn’t quite name, groaning in frustrated impotence as the omega rounded on the alpha. The monster roared into detail and color. Blood dripping down his neck. A snarl in his lips. His teeth sharp and menacing, Deku seeing all of this, but facing him, unwavering. And very suddenly, Katsuki could name the feeling that was pooling inside of him, what the omega had felt when he turned toward the alpha.

It was love. The undying love for his pup. It was this love that was driving everything else, the fear, the stubborn hope, the willingness to face what he must have known was a useless battle.

In that moment, Katsuki wanted so badly to move. To race in between Deku and Kazue and the alpha. To protect them. His alpha brain was roaring in fury as he watched, silent and unmoving, as the alpha stomped toward Deku and Deku snarled at him to stay back. The alpha ignored him, kept shambling forward, reaching for the omega.

In one swift motion, Deku grabbed the alpha’s arm, twisted it away from him, jammed the heel of his hand into the alpha’s face. It was an easy movement, smooth, practiced. When Deku moved, it was with confidence, with a calm in his knowing that he was doing this correctly.

For Katsuki, the movement was anything but soothing. He knew that move. He’d taught it to Deku years earlier, as some vague attempt to prepare him for what he may face in the world. And here the omega was using it, trying to save his pup.

The alpha, however, didn’t seem to notice. His teeth were gnashed in anger now, his eyes nearly completely white, flailing around to try to catch Deku off guard, Deku doing his best to both keep out of the alpha’s grip and to keep him away from Kazue. It wasn’t a terribly long fight and as it progressed, the more the small spark of hope Deku had felt in his tiny, insignificant victory faded away. As much as he fought, there was no way out of that alley. Their entire world was just him, the alpha, and little Kazue.

Kazue sat on the ground. Although he made no sound, he watched his omega, and tears streamed down his face.

And finally, the alpha got his arms around Deku’s chest, trapped him still, and very suddenly bit deep into Deku’s neck.

For a split second, Katsuki’s vision went red and he snarled, racing forward. His hands grabbed at nothing, his entire body throbbing as he watched the alpha bite a bit deeper into Deku’s neck. Deku snarled as well, twisted, trying to get away, but all at once, his entire body fell limp in the alpha’s arms, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head.

The entire world vanished beneath Katsuki’s feet, startling him out of his alpha brain’s control, glancing around to see what had happened.

The world came back with a sudden shriek from Kazue.

Deku was laying on the ground now, unmoving, his eyes barely open. A sluggish feeling crept over Katsuki from the omega, an understanding that didn’t quite reach the hero. A small bit of color focused on Kazue as the pup once again beat at the alpha towering over Deku, snarling and hissing and telling him to go away.

The alpha glanced down at Kazue, grabbed his arm, and bit deeply into him.

Panic and pain made Katsuki’s blood burn as the omega leaped forward, snarling ferally as his pup went limp in the alpha’s grip. The alpha pushed the omega back to the ground, even with Deku struggling to get up, to get to Kazue, and bit into his neck again. The omega snarled, whimpered, then the world faded away.

And as the world faded away, so did Deku’s stubborn determination, his will to fight and live.

All that was left was Katsuki’s own fury and impotence, the madness of being so utterly helpless.

He snarled and hissed and looked around the empty world for something, anything.

The voice in his head spoke like a withering demon. Find omega, protect omega, kill alpha, kill alpha, kill, kill kill KILL!

Katsuki wanted to scream and thrash and destroy something.

Instead, he sunk into a crouch, pressed a shaking hand to his forehead.

Because he knew what was coming next.

He knew how this story ended.

- - -

Not much time passed before a new feeling trickled into Katsuki’s chest, a familiar tightness, longing, loneliness, fear. Slowly, Deku appeared, drawn first in black and white, then filling out in detail as the omega blinked awake. The world, too, flickered into reality as he glanced around. It took Katsuki only a heartbeat to recognize the abandoned building in which he’d found Deku. The omega lay on the very same mattress Katsuki had found him on. Deku’s emotions trickled into Katsuki, mixing with his already heightened senses. First, there was confusion, then pain, then panic. Parts of the room lit up as Deku searched and searched, looking for Kazue, Katsuki realized. He couldn’t find the pup at first, until a small noise caught the omega’s attention and a door in the corner flared into detail and color. It was a simple closet door, a chair tucked under the handle. From beyond it, Katsuki could hear the pup crying.

“Kazue,” Deku called, and the pup quieted.

“M-Mom-Mommy?”

“Kazue,” the omega pushed himself up, gasped, trembled on his elbows. The bite marks on his neck were still bleeding.

With a whine, Deku pulled at the mattress, clawing toward the closet.

And as he did, another door opened, and the alpha appeared.

He appeared first not as lines drawn into the world, but as a shadow, something Deku refused to see, refused to believe. Only when he looked up and saw the grinning line of teeth did everything settle into place.

Realization and horror clawed its way up Katsuki, his own or Deku’s, he couldn’t tell. All he knew was when he looked up at the alpha and the alpha looked down at Deku, they both knew what was going to happen.

“Don’t,” Deku whispered.

The alpha grinned.

When he reached for Deku, when Deku tried to kick away from him, when it all became so useless and hopeless, when Kazue called for Deku even though the omega couldn’t think of anything to say back, when Katsuki felt himself filling up with something he couldn’t explain, something he couldn’t comprehend, it didn’t really matter what the omega’s world looked like.

To Katsuki, all he saw was red.

- - -

The world faded in and out of existence, both to Katsuki and to Deku. The white void consumed them off and on, but as time went on, more and more the only part of the world Katsuki ever saw was the closet door and the chair leaned against it. More times than not, even the omega himself was faded into vague lines and strange shadows. Between the white voids, Katsuki found himself thrashing around a world tinted red, a world of inconsolable fury and sorrow.

And there was no escaping it. No way out. Nothing he could do to make it end.

In the brief moments where he actually had the wherewithal to see what was happening, his mind refused to take it in.

Likewise, his own emotions spun wildly out of control, then slowly drained away. It left Katsuki feeling hollow, lifeless. Even Deku’s emotions grew numb. The only constant that remained was a small, fluttering pit of love in his chest, the closet door, the wish to endure, if only to see his pup one more time.

Kazue cried through most of it. But he was too young to understand what was happening. All he knew, just as he’d told everyone before, was the alpha was hurting his omega, was making him cry.

For as long as he wanted to, Katsuki let himself rage and scream, let his palms explode and burn until his arms hurt and his hands smoked. Then, when he was spent and helpless and oh so tired, he collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, enjoying the moments of white and emptiness. He watched events play out. He watched, but he took no interest. He no longer knew why he was even there. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop this from happening, and he couldn’t bear to let it happen anymore. So he watched, but he felt nothing, and he didn’t try to stop it.

- - -

Katsuki didn’t know how long it went on. But, eventually, he was graced with sudden calmness. Slowly, one line crawling into place at a time, Deku came into focus, laying very still on the mattress. Katsuki didn’t know where his clothes had gone, saw only the bruises that painted his skin. Anything more, he didn’t want to see.

The omega’s eyes opened, slowly. The alpha wasn’t in the room. The door was shut. Deku was very focused on a cricket chirping somewhere.

Then, he heard his pup shuffle in the closet. The noise made that corner of the room flair with colors so bright that Katsuki actually picked his head up, felt the small, linger seed of love wiggling in his chest.

Slowly, painfully slowly, the omega rolled over. Pain, both physical and mental, shot along Katsuki’s body, had him shivering. He whimpered, surprised to hear that the omega had whimpered with him. Deku made his way, inch by inch, dragging himself, clenching his teeth yet unable to hold off every whine of pain, off the mattress and to the closet. He grabbed the leg of the chair leaned against the closet, rattled it. From inside, Kazue yelped and screamed and Deku whined at the sound of his pup in distress, Katsuki shuddering as the seed of love withered slightly, as something came to smother it: desperation. He watched Deku struggle with the chair, the omega grinding his teeth in frustration, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Then, with a growl, it finally toppled, freeing the closet door. Deku laid on the ground for several moments, breathing heavily. The world began receding again, Deku’s body fading out of existence before the closet did.

Until, the door handle turned, and the closet open. Deku lifted his head, Katsuki doing the same, watching as lines filtered through the dark of the closet, lining up with a small form they knew so well. Kazue grew from the lines, then into colors, one at a time, the finer details filling in, the smaller things that even Katsuki hadn’t noticed. There were so many freckles on the little pup’s cheeks and nose. How had he ever missed that? He began counting them off, though for what reason, he didn’t know, until the pup shrieked out and the world became vivid and sharp around him if only for a moment.

“Mommy!” The pup collapsed onto his omega, who curled up around him, humming happily and rubbing against him as the pup burst into tears. “Mommy? Mommy, where are your clothes?”

Somehow, Deku managed to smile at the pup. It was a painful smile, one full of hidden fears and tears and unspoken truths. But he still smiled at his pup.

That little bit of love, the small part of warmth in that room, stirred again in Katsuki, but it remained buried under a layer of numbness, of desperate need to feel nothing. It was from this little spark of warmth that Katsuki knew the omega drew his smile and the words that followed.

“Kazue, listen to me,” his voice was dry and cracking. Kazue sniffled uselessly, but he listened as his omega spoke, “do you remember… all the heroes I would tell you about?”

“I don’t want to talk about heroes.” Kazue glanced around the room, but Deku took his chin, pulled him back to focus on him.

“Listen, Kazue,” the omega’s voice was soft and soothing, calm despite everything, “you remember that heroes keep us safe, right? That’s their job.”

The pup wasn’t listening, turning to look around the room. “Can we leave now? Let’s go home.”

“Kazue, firecracker, please listen to me.”

Kazue’s eyes brightened suddenly and he raced away from Deku, the omega letting out a cry as he did, Katsuki flinching at the deep stab of pain that radiated from his stomach. The pup faded from Deku’s world, the omega calling to him with a weak cry, only for him to scurry back, the lines and details and colors filling in quickly as he held something out to Deku. The omega’s clothes. They were bloody and torn.

“Here, Mommy. You have to get dressed now. We have to go.”

“Kazue, please, listen to me.”

Kazue offered him his shirt. “Mommy, please. I want to go home now.”

Katsuki listened, but he wasn’t really listening. It was too much to listen to. He didn’t want to hear it anymore.

He watched as Deku took the shirt, tried to fit it over his head. Kazue had to help. It was a bit awkward, Kazue a little too small and Deku a little too weak to do correctly, but there was a comforting mundaneness in the motion. This was something Kazue understood, something Deku had done to him for years. Just as the omega had helped him dress for so long, he did his best to help the omega get dressed. Deku went through the motions, but as he did, he spoke quietly to the pup.

“Heroes are supposed to protect you and take care of you, right Kazue?”

“Right, Mommy.”

“Good. So listen to me. Do you remember who my favorite hero is?”

The pup nodded, tugged Deku’s shirt down over his stomach. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Who is it?”

The pup offered Deku his pants. “Mommy, you have to get dressed.”

Deku tried to smile, but there were tears in his eyes and his lips were trembling. He took the pants.

“Kazue, tell me. Who’s my favorite hero?”

Kazue sniffled. “It’s Ground Zero.”

The world shattered around Katsuki. He found himself so focused in that moment that he could see every small detail on both Deku and Kazue, could see every pore on their faces. Even if Deku’s memory was faded and blurred, he could see everything as it happened right in front of him.

Deku smiled warmly at Kazue. “That’s right, firecracker. It’s Ground Zero.”

“Mommy, get dressed.”

Deku took a moment to pull at his pants, slipping them over his legs, trying to hide a wince.

“Kazue, I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it, Mommy?” The pup sniffled, tried to tug at his omega’s hand.

Deku didn’t seem to notice. “I need you to go out and find a hero. Go find a hero and ask for Ground Zero. He’ll take good care of you, okay, Kazue?”

Katsuki was still too numb to react. He heard the words, let them wash over him. But in the end, he couldn’t make himself feel anything in them.

He watched as Kazue stared down at Deku and Deku wept up at him.

The pup pulled at his omega’s arm. “Let’s go now, Mommy.”

Deku pushed himself up, hands and knees, quivered with the effort. “Kazue. I need you to go now. Do as I say. Find a hero and ask for Ground Zero, okay? Make sure you get to see him. Make sure he finds you.”

“Mommy, I—”

“Kazue, go!”

Deku sobbed, collapsed to the ground. Kazue didn’t move, not even as his omega begged, “Kazue, please. Please, go. Go find a hero. They’ll protect you.”

Kazue was very quiet. “Mommy, let’s go.”

Deku sighed, laughed, hysterical. His outward expression of emotion was strange with how empty Katsuki was feeling. He supposed if he couldn’t feel it inside, then he had to feel it on the outside.

Then, Deku stilled, sobbed again. “Okay, Kazue. Let’s go. You go first. I’ll be right behind you.”

Kazue was very quiet.

“Go on. I just need to find my shoes.”

“I can—”

“No, Kazue. Go. I’ll be right there.”

The pup was quiet.

When Katsuki dared to look up, Deku was laying on the floor, and Kazue had tears streaming down his face.

The pup wiped at his eyes, then nodded, stood. “Okay, Mommy.”

Deku smiled at his pup. The little seed was starting to bloom, warming and growing roots, roots destined to wither and die. “Kazue, I love you. So much. You know that, right? I love you so much.”

Kazue nodded, again and again. “I love you, Mommy.”

The omega sobbed, smiled. “Go on. I’ll be right there. I’ll always be right behind you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Go find a hero. Ask for Ground Zero. Okay?”

Kazue nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go find him. I’ll find him and you can finally meet him, Mommy. That will make you happy, won’t it?”

Katsuki didn’t know what it was, but very suddenly, the seed of love flared out into a deep, throbbing agony that began eating away at him. He saw it bloom in Deku’s chest as well, as the omega smiled and sobbed and drew his pup in to scent him one more time, as the pup pressed his hand to his omega’s face.

It was so painful to watch. So painful to listen to. Katsuki didn’t think he could watch or listen anymore.

For as much as he was shuddering and sobbing and agonizing, there was a part of Katsuki that was still lucid. Lucid enough to realize that this wasn’t the scenario he had found Kazue and Deku in. That although now dressed, the omega was still unbound.

This wasn’t over.

The thought struck him silent and cold, Katsuki looking up at the sound of a door opening, and all the painful, agonizing love in his chest was replaced with despair.

“No,” the omega shuddered, Kazue turned, startled.

And the door in front of them flew open.

Silence, as the alpha stared down at Deku and Kazue and Kazue and Deku up at the alpha. Stillness, as the world collapsed in around them, as time reduced to this one second.

The alpha snarled, reached for Kazue.

When he did, Deku launched himself forward with what Katsuki knew was every last ounce of strength he had. The world reduced even more, to just Deku, Kazue, and the alpha’s neck.

He watched as Deku clamped his teeth down onto the alpha’s throat and tore at his flesh, the alpha howling in pain. Blood gushed from the alpha’s throat, dripped down Deku’s chin. Somewhere, Kazue shrieked, but Deku clung to the alpha, digging his teeth in, trying to kill him.

A fist flared into reality as it struck Deku across the jaw, stunning him long enough for the alpha to push him away. As Deku’s strength faded and he fell to the ground, the alpha roared after him, still bleeding, still snarling in fury, still beating the omega every time Deku tried to move, to stop him, to get away.

Kazue shrieked again, grabbed at the alpha, only for the alpha to turn and smack him, the pup thrown against the wall and collapsing in a heap. Deku whined for Kazue, clinging to the seed of love that had held him together through everything. But in the end, Katsuki watched as the alpha continued to punch and claw at Deku, as Deku finally grew still, as that little bit of hope withered and died.

- - -

Eventually, even the alpha faded away. He grew tired of beating Deku and wandered off, but once he was gone, there was nothing left to the world save for vague shapes. Even Kazue, slumped in the corner, was only a lump of shadows and incoherent lines.

The feelings had faded away as well, reduced to the pinpoint that Deku was aware of, the few things that his memory had somehow retained. Kazue, yes. The mattress. Random flickers as the alpha moved around the room. His voice was distorted and uneven, only a series of growls and muttered half-words.

Deku didn’t move.

Neither did Katsuki.

He knew this sinking, fading feeling well, though this was slightly different from what he had experienced before. This slow slip away from reality, the fading of reason, of self. He’d felt it before, many times, though only once to such a degree as this.

He’d felt it most three years earlier. When he’d been young and stupid and hadn't been careful enough with his own life to realize just how sacred it was. When he threw caution to the wind, as he was apt to, and found himself bleeding out from a well-placed cut along his leg. He’d laid on the ground, feeling the world fade away, just as it was for Deku.

This, this was what dying felt like.

Perhaps the familiarity of the feeling was what kept Katsuki in the moment. Or maybe the last rational thread in his mind remembered that this was just a memory, that though it felt like dying, Deku had survived this. Somehow, he was still alive.

This wasn’t the end.

And yet, it felt so much like one.

At some point, the alpha returned. He returned as a swelling mass of entangled lines far too disjointed to be understood clearly, until he grabbed Deku by the hair.

The sudden, vicious contact had the omega whining, looking up at the alpha, colors and details filling in some of the gaps, but they were few and scattered. An angry snarl of teeth. A knife held in an iron grip. Bandages hastily wrapped around still-bleeding wounds. Words echoed through the dream, but just as the images, they were warped and incomprehensible. The alpha shoved Deku back into the ground, put his knee into the omega’s back. Took off his shirt. Katsuki almost couldn’t believe it, that the alpha was actually going to do this again, but was taken off guard when he began cutting up his shirt into ribbons, which he then used to tie up Deku. It was a useless gesture. Deku was too hurt to move. He hardly even had the strength to whine.

When he was sufficiently bound, the alpha returned him to the mattress, stumbled out of the room.

The door slammed and it was very quiet.

The room was only a shell, an outline, a few lines dictating where Deku knew the walls ended. But as he lay on that mattress, he became aware of movement nearby. Of Kazue stirring, the pup filling in with a few more details.

Slowly, the pup roused, whined for his omega, fell silent when he realized where he was. Then, he got up, trudged over to Deku. Through the vague shapes, Katsuki couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but he got the impression of the pup trying to tug at the restraints on his omega, trying to free him. When that didn’t work, the pup instead curled up on Deku’s scent gland. As he did, he filled in with more detail, his voice floating through the room.

“It’s okay, Mommy. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here. Please wake up, Mommy.”

The pup’s voice haunted them, until he fell into sleep, until Deku faded into the white void, and Katsuki had a moment to pause and to try not to think.

- - -

When the white void spun back with lines and shapes, it was to the intimidating sound of the door opening. While the world remained vague and incoherent, the form the alpha loomed over them, a shadow so much larger than anything else.

Kazue leaped up from Deku, hissed, and raced to stop the alpha, who pushed him away and crouched over the omega, growling possessively, leaning in toward his scent gland. Katsuki had seen it enough times to know what was coming.

This time, however, Kazue gave a shriek and ran out of the room. The alpha seemed to turn, to look up, and a sound shook the memory, something familiar and comforting to Katsuki, though he couldn’t place where he knew it from. With a snarl, the alpha scrambled away from Deku, following after Kazue, slamming the door shut in his wake.

And it was quiet, for a long time.

The more time passed, the more Deku’s focus faded away. He was aware of the room around him, of the closed door, of the absence of anyone there. Every now and then, he whined out, trying to call to Kazue, his voice muffled from the gag. But his pup never answered. He was all alone, waiting. And so, when the sound of someone entering the home echoed into the room, the omega was aware of it as well.

Perhaps Katsuki shouldn’t have been so surprised when the door flared into focus as it was smashed open, as a new figure emerged from the doorway, a snarling alpha entered the room.

Just as before, he presented as a mass of angry lines, incoherent shapes. Deku tried to piece together who was standing there, but he couldn’t quite figure it out. A voice growled, the words still jumbled and meaningless. But at them, the omega’s focus tightened. His world constricted to the alpha slowly approaching, taking in the smaller details he could piece together. Blond hair. Red eyes. Green gauntlets.

“Hey,” the words were clearer now, even if the voice was not. “It’s all right now. I’m a hero. Help is coming.”

A light flared into the room, illuminating a figure still faded around the edges, but much clearer than anything had been in what felt like a lifetime.

And something changed in the omega.

Katsuki felt it, a pit of emotions that bloomed as the new figure stepped into the room, as it crouched over Deku, and gasped.

“Deku?” His own voice, suddenly very clear, was jarring, and he couldn’t tell if it was because that was how the omega remembered it or if that was how he’d actually sounded.

But at the name Katsuki had given him, that pit of emotion flowered into something that had Katsuki wavering once again, feeling his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

As Katsuki had crouched over the omega, Deku had felt a small spark of hope starting to burn again.

Then, the white void came and took him away, and he gasped and choked on fresh tears.

Then, he opened his eyes.

Chapter Text

It was strange to return to a world full of detail and color. So strange that Katsuki felt like he’d fallen from a nightmare into a dream. He stared around a room full of people who all had faces and bright colors and dull colors and noises and there was a distance absence of lines. Dozens of eyes stared right at him.

But Katsuki had nothing to say.

He looked up, saw Deku, asleep in his hospital bed.

He couldn’t feel what the omega was feeling, had only his own emotions to wrestle with. But he couldn’t seem to grasp just what he was feeling in that moment, couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that he was back to only himself, in a world that moved forward without a predictable end.

He stared for a long time at Deku, unsure what he was expecting exactly, then he turned, saw that nobody else in the room had moved, waiting for him to finally speak, to say exactly what he had seen, what had happened.

But he said nothing. Nothing at all.

- - -

Katsuki was quickly released from the cuffs when he didn’t show any violent inclinations, but, to his annoyance, a psychiatric team was brought in seemingly with intents to admit him to the hospital as a patient. He adamantly refused, demanding instead to just have a few moments to breathe. Nobody bothered to listen to him, until Mai suddenly spoke for the first time.

“Let him stay,” her voice rose over Katsuki yelling and the doctors insisting and Tsukauchi arguing, silencing them all. Katsuki had nearly forgotten she was even there, the old alpha leaned back unassumingly in her seat. She was watching him closely. “Perhaps give us just a few moments alone?”

Her tone had changed from what felt like a lifetime ago. Katsuki didn’t even really know how much time had passed at all. A few minutes? Hours? Days? Even as scattered as Deku’s memories were, he’d felt like he’d been wandering them for longer than the two or three days the police suspected the alpha had kept the omega and pup.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, watched the heart monitor still hooked up to Deku. Somehow, his heart was still beating. After all of that, his heart was still beating.

Somehow, Mai convinced the others to leave the room. Even the doctors and nurses followed Tsukauchi and Ito out, leaving only the two alphas and Deku alone. The absence of people in the room somehow made the silence easier to bear, the weight of bodies pressed against one another gone. Katsuki gave no reaction to it, though he did feel something cautiously begin to unwind in his chest.

“You want a cigarette?”

Surprise stopped Katsuki from immediately sneering as he normally would, even more so when he turned to see Mai offering him her pack.

“Deku’s on oxygen,” was the only thing he thought to say.

“So?”

“It’s explosive?”

Mai raised an eyebrow. “Look who’s talking.”

She tucked the cigarettes in a pocket near her heart then leaned back in her seat, seemed to settle quite easily. Katsuki watched her, unsure of what to say or do. Eventually though, he decided he didn’t really care, turning to watch Deku. Still, the omega was unmoving.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, long enough that the ticking of the clock on the wall didn’t seem real anymore. The only thing that felt real at all was the heartbeat monitor hooked up to Deku, a small but significant sign of life that Katsuki watched zealously.

Then, the older alpha snorted. “I told you, you weren’t going to make it through.”

She had said it, of course. But Katsuki still snapped his jaw at her, glared with all the anger he could muster. “And I would do it again, as long as it leads to some progress.”

Mai leveled him with a gaze of steel. Katsuki endured it, as he would have any other day. But he didn’t feel the rise of tension in his body, the need to challenge the other alpha back. He simply sat and he watched her, and she, him.

Finally, she shut her eyes, huffed. “You’re a strange one, I’ll give you that.”

Katsuki snorted, turned away. Found himself facing Deku again, all his strength bleeding away. He picked up his feet, shuffled them a bit, found the noise they made grating against the measured tick of the clock.

“Did you… see it?”

Mai was quiet. Katsuki didn’t break the silence between them.

The older alpha sighed. “No. I merely facilitate the visions. All I saw was you slumped over for half an hour.” Her chair creaked but Katsuki still didn’t bother to look. “Long time. Typically visions only last up to ten minutes.”

“Lucky me.” Katsuki rubbed the back of his head, didn’t know why it was so hard to do anything more.

There came silence again, though this time he was happy for the tick and tock, for something to keep the tension between them from rising too much. It was better, he knew, for them to not have this conversation around Deku. The less stress he was exposed to, the better. In fact, Katsuki didn’t exactly know how the omega was going to face the world again if he woke up. How did someone enter back into a world that had done this to them?

“You’re shaking.”

Mai’s words crashed through Katsuki’s thoughts, though he ignored her, clenched his hands tightly together. Kept watching Deku, keeping vigilance over his continued heartbeat.

The older alpha didn’t let the silence settle again, sighing deeply. “Give me your phone.”

It was this question that shocked Katsuki enough to pick up his head. “Why?”

“Just give it here!”

Katsuki waited a moment longer, until Mai held out her hand impatiently. He bit down on a growl, but handed it over to her, the older alpha scrolling through it.

“What was the name of that packmate of yours they mentioned was with you yesterday?”

Katsuki blinked. “Who? Kirishima?”

“Sure. Him. Who’s he?”

“He’s my pack’s head beta.” Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Again, why?”

“Oh, just be quiet,” Mai snipped, pressing the phone to her ear. Katsuki could hear it ring, as well as Kirishima’s uneasy greeting when he picked up. “Put the pup on the phone. His alpha needs him.”

“Wha-what? What’s wrong with Bakugo?” Even as Kirishima’s panicked voice pierced through the room, Katsuki felt his stomach drop.

Kazue.

What he wouldn’t give to hold his pup, to comfort him, to promise him the world he’d seen in those few days wasn’t how the world always was.

“Just do it already!” Mai growled, earning a yelp from Kirishima and a hurried noise that had Katsuki leaning forward in anticipation.

When Mai offered him the phone, he took it, pressed it to his ear. Waited, as Kirishima called Kazue, then as the phone was handed off, the beta patiently helping the pup with it.

Then, in a small, curious voice, “Hello?”

Katsuki opened his mouth to say something, to tell his pup hello, but all that came out was a painful wheeze.

The last thing he’d heard from the pup was a scream of panic and rage and fear and confusion. And here he was, a little confused, a little concerned, but content, safe.

“Helloooo? Kiri, it’s not working!” Kazue grumbled, but Katsuki swallowed and found his tongue.

“I’m here.”

“Oh!” He could almost hear Kazue pout. “Kacchan, why didn’t you say something?”

“Sorry,” a name tripped along his tongue. Something Deku had called him. Firecracker. He swallowed again. “How are you?”

“Fine. Are you at the hospital?”

“Yeah, I am.”

The pup gave a little distressed noise that had Katsuki running his hand through his hair, trying to hold himself together. “Why didn’t you bring me?!”

“I’m sorry. Tomorrow, all right? I’ll bring you tomorrow.”

“Mmm! Okay.” The pup paused. Katsuki wished he would speak, say anything, if just so he could hear his voice again.

When he didn’t, the alpha pressed, “Are you having a good day?”

“It’s fine. I played with Fumiko and Takahiro. And Kiri, too! He knows lots of games.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Right!” The pup went quiet again, then huffed very suddenly. “Kacchan, you sound sad again! Why are you sad?”

A breath shuddered its way out of his lungs. He gasped to try to get it back, couldn’t quite seem to.

Kazue went very quiet. Then, “Kacchan?”

“Yeah, Kazue?” The words were painful to get out, but Katsuki managed to force them without a quiver to his voice.

“It’s okay,” the pup said. “Please don’t be sad. It’ll be okay.”

The words tasted like iron and bitterness. They sounded too much like what the pup had said to his omega while he’d laid on that mattress, dying.

Katsuki swallowed again. “Yeah, it will be, Kaz. It will.”

A gasp from the other end of the conversation jolted Katsuki slightly. “What did you call me?” The pup said, Katsuki racking his mind to think of what he’d said.

“Kaz?”

The pup gasped again, long, drawn out, far more dramatic than he’d ever seen the pup. “Kacchan,” he said, very seriously, “I love that name.”

There was something about the way he said it, something inherently adorable and ridiculous in his words, that had Katsuki snorting. “It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“No! My name is Kazue. See? Kaz-ue.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Right! But I like Kaz!”

“What about Kazzy?”

“Mmm,” Katsuki could see the pup’s nose wrinkling. “Nope! That’s too much.”

“All right. Kaz it is.”

The pup chirped happily. He sounded a lot like Deku. But somehow, it wasn’t a painful sound to hear. In fact, Katsuki smiled, knowing he’d made Kazue a little happier.

“Listen, Kaz, I have to go now. I’ll come home as soon as I can.”

“Yes! Come home soon so that it will be night soon and then soon we can go see Mom!”

“All right. Be nice to the pups.”

“Okay. What about Kiri?”

Katsuki snorted again. “Just be nice to the pups. Anyone else is free game.”

“Oh,” Kazue said this seriously, and Katsuki could hear Kirishima chuckling in the background. “Okay. Okay, Kacchan!”

“I’ll see you soon, Kaz.”

“Bye!”

With a final chirp, Kazue clearly handed the phone back to Kirishima. The beta got about a syllable out before Katsuki hung up on him, turning his phone to silent and pocketing it.

As soon as he’d leaned back, Mai shifted, her chair creaking, announcing her presence still in the room. Although Katsuki hadn’t completely forgotten, he was still a little uneasy at the reminder.

The old alpha was watching him closely. “Feeling any better?” Katsuki snorted and she laughed. “Good. We’ve still a long day to get through. You can go home and break down tonight with your pack.”

“I’m not going to break down.” Katsuki snapped his jaws. “Anyway, you’re right. Have to tell the police what I saw. Got a good look at this bastard alpha. He won’t get away.”

Mai hummed slightly, but when Katsuki went to stand, she raised a hand. “Maybe,” she spoke quietly, conspiratorially, “we should have a conversation first.”

Katsuki paused. “Before talking to the police?”

The old alpha nodded. “Talking about a memory of a memory can be confusing. Speak with me about what you saw. Tell me before you have to try to face Tsukauchi.”

Katsuki watched her, saw other words behind her suggestion. Saw an invitation to try to parse through exactly what he had experienced, to settle into the emotions before he had to try to keep his composure in front of the police and doctors and whoever else may be involved. To find the facts amongst the raw feelings of the encounter.

Typically, Katsuki would have said no, told her to get someone official in the room with them. But she had been called in by Tsukauchi, had done this seven times previously. The inspector obviously trusted her. And maybe it would be better, to sit down and really think about what had happened. To battle through that emotional quagmire before he had to face it with a voice recorder in the room.

Slowly, he sat back, nodded.

“Good. Why don’t you tell me about this alpha first.”

Katsuki growled, set his teeth together. The alpha had taken many forms in Deku’s memories, but what was burned most into his mind was his grinning line of teeth. Just as Kazue had said. But he also remembered, vaguely, what had happened when the alpha had grabbed Deku in the alley. The omega’s desperate bid to get away. He remembered that the alpha was missing an ear, torn free by the omega’s teeth, and he wasn’t sorry at all for the pain it must have caused him. Grinning teeth and a missing ear. A monster, in all the ways someone could be. He described the alpha to Mai, who listened quietly and gave no outward reaction.

When Katsuki finished, he snarled again. “When I find him, I’ll kill this bastard.”

Mai sighed deeply. “You see, this is why I suggested you speak with me first instead of incriminating yourself to Tsukauchi.” Katsuki snarled, but Mai continued as if she hadn’t heard, or more so that she didn’t care, “What about Kazue? Did he take any particular interest in the pup?”

It was an interesting question, one that hadn’t crossed Katsuki’s mind while he had walked through Deku’s memories. Looking back, he could pick out little bits of the alpha addressing Kazue, telling him to stay or he would hurt his omega, reaching for him when he saw Deku had freed him from the closet, chasing after him when the pup ran away.

When the pup ran—

That bastard had been chasing after Kazue when he’d run into Katsuki and Kirishima.

They could have passed right by him and never known.

A breath squeezed itself out of Katsuki’s lungs in a tight hiss. He ground the sound between his teeth, spat out, “He only ever bit Kazue once but never hurt him again. But he always made sure the pup was nearby.”

“Did he threaten Midoriya with hurting him?”

That would have been the logical conclusion to make, but Katsuki couldn’t remember the alpha addressing Deku at all. He’d only ever growled something broken and disjointed when the omega had tried to bite his throat out.

“No, he didn’t. He didn’t really speak much. He was more like an animal than a human being.”

“Hmm,” Mai tapped her leg with all five fingers, rhythmic and grounding, a noise outside of the ticking clock. “And he bit the pup?”

“Yeah, he did,” Katsuki growled. “Made him pass out.” He paused, thinking back on that first memory, of the alpha biting Deku and the omega passing out only to be jolted awake by his pup’s crying. The alpha had bitten him again and he’d fallen asleep again, same with Kazue. Once might have been a coincidence, the stress of the encounter getting to Deku. But to happen twice? And a third time to someone else? Something was going on.

Why didn’t I think about that when I saw it happen? It was a difficult question to answer. One, because he should have recognized it. Two, because it was absolutely understandable why he didn’t.

“Did you see him use a Quirk at all?” Mai’s question confused Katsuki for a moment, still caught up on the alpha’s bite. The bandages on Deku’s neck stood out, caught his attention, held it for several seconds. The alpha had bitten Deku more times than Katsuki had cared to count, nearly every time leading to the omega passing out.

It wasn’t a coincidence. So what was it?

Katsuki shook his head. “Don’t know. There was something weird though.” Mai raised an eyebrow at him, curious. He relayed what he had seen from the alpha’s bite, the effect it had on both Deku and Kazue. The more he spoke, the more Mai sat forward slightly, slowly knitting her fingers together, a thoughtful preciseness to the motion.

“Hmm,” the older alpha snorted. She sat back slightly, worried her thumbs over one another. “You know, our biology has changed a lot in recent times.” Katsuki growled, turned away from her, uninterested in going back to science class, but she continued, “Once upon a time, alphas had hormones in their saliva that would interact with a scent gland when bitten. Claiming wasn’t just a mark on someone’s skin; it ran deeper than that. Almost as if the alpha were infusing their partner with their scent and being.” Katsuki turned to glare hard at Mai, trying to follow the breadcrumbs she was leaving. When he said nothing, she shrugged. “Of course, there’s still a bit of that to any claiming bite. That’s why anyone who has been with an alpha partner for a long, long time may start to smell like them, but it’s uncommon for someone to have a dramatic effect on another person with just their bite alone. That being said,” she tightened her grip on her hands, stared at Katsuki over them, “one of the side effects of being bitten by an alpha long ago was a complete surrender to the alpha. It was a biologic response, an instinctual submission. It wasn’t particularly uncommon for people to completely lose consciousness.”

The connections lined up very suddenly, had Katsuki growling deeply. But he paused, really tried to think about what he had seen. And still, something didn’t quite line up. “Kazue was bitten on the arm, not the neck,” he said.

Mai shrugged. “It’s an unusual situation to begin with. And if you said you didn’t see him using an obvious Quirk, then maybe we don’t need a deeper explanation.”

Although strange, the pieces did line up. It gave answers both to why the alpha had bitten Kazue and why Deku hadn’t been able to fight him off after being bitten. But was it really that simple? That the alpha had higher levels of this hormone in his saliva? That he’d infected Deku?

Another growl rose up Katsuki’s throat. Deep and thrumming, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. Even Mai, unfazed by any of his previous shows of aggression, paused and leaned back slightly at the sound.

It was a deeply possessive sound, a warning to all others to back away. When Katsuki had been with Deku, he’d been more than happy to tell others that his omega was already taken, had scared off more than one alpha and beta to keep the omega to himself. But it had been a long time and the noise rose up like liquid in long-rusted pipes. He wasn’t used to the sound. All he knew was that he didn’t like the idea of another alpha infecting Deku and his pup.

“In any case,” the older alpha’s voice drew Katsuki’s attention and though he quieted, he kept the growl in his lips. “What else did you see? Was there anyone else who stood out?”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, shook his head. “No. Just the alpha.”

“And I don’t suppose he monologued at any point and gave his name away?”

“No.”

Mai snorted. “I suppose that would be far too easy.” She paused, shifted slightly.

The atmosphere in the room changed suddenly. Katsuki wasn’t sure what it was. The older alpha’s uncomfortable shift in her chair, the fact that there was an inevitability to their conversation, or the way Katsuki had been very clear not to speak on certain subjects.

He knew when the older alpha raised her gaze to him and the room was taken by a cold breeze, that he was going to have to face the elephant in the room. “What else did you see the alpha do?”

In truth, there were no words to describe what Katsuki had witnessed. Perhaps mostly because he hadn’t seen most of it. Between Deku’s inability to remain conscious for any length of time and Katsuki’s willingness to let his alpha brain take over and let the world run red with his rage, he hadn’t actually seen some of the worst of it. But he did know what Deku had felt. And there were simply no words Katsuki knew to describe it.

All he really remembered was that pervasive feeling of nothing. As if the omega had simply willed himself to no longer exist in a world where feelings and emotions had any bearings on anything.

So he didn’t really know how to answer that question. Nor did he really want to. Would the police also ask him about it? Perhaps not. The doctors seemed to have known. Perhaps their testimony was all they needed.

When he stayed quiet, the older alpha shifted forward. She groaned as she rose from her seat, crossed the room to where Katsuki was sitting next to Deku. Took his hand. Her fingers were surprisingly calloused, but they fit in the rough skin that layered Katsuki’s hands. Constant explosions raging through his fingertips meant his skin had long developed a hard layer from his hero work. The pups sometimes complained he had scratchy hands. But the older alpha’s hands felt similar somehow. Not that she would know what it was like to wield fire and force as Katsuki did, but she would know a rough lifestyle when it was presented to her, just as well as Katsuki could recognize one.

He didn’t know if it was any of this that made him accept her presence, allowed her to take his hand and squeeze it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring down at their hands. “It’s truly awful to think what you must have seen and it’s not fair that this is what you felt you had to do.”

At her words, Katsuki let a small growl slip through his teeth. “I told you. Anything for Deku.”

“You must harbor a lot of guilt if you think this exchange was fair,” the older alpha grumbled, though she kept her grip of his hand gentle.

Katsuki glared forward. “It’s not a fair exchange. But it’s never going to be.”

“Hmm.” She stood for a moment longer, rubbed his hand soothingly.

Then, she released him, reached into her breast pocket again. Katsuki half expected her to pull out the cigarettes again, and was half tempted to accept one this time, but instead, she pushed a small card into his face.

“Here. I’m technically retired now, but you’re an interesting case. And the pup is cute, so bring him along with you.”

Katsuki blinked at her, scanned her card. It was a business card, Mai Akage, Trauma Psychologist.

He turned a glare toward her, but she was already returning to her seat. As if sensing his gaze, she said over her shoulder, “Surprised? Most people are. Alphas aren’t typically seen as the ones to sit you down in a comfy chair and ask about your feelings. But,” she paused, stilled, went very silent. She stood for a long moment, a single heartbeat that dragged along. Then, she said, “I’ve seen what my Quirk does to people. I know the damage memories and emotions can have. So, it fit.”

There was something else in her words. A guilt of her own. Katsuki could see it, even if she had given no voice to it. It would be difficult, he supposed, to inflict upon people what she had to him. To force others to witness and feel terrible things without having to go through it herself. Maybe it was guilt that had led her to take up this profession. Maybe it was her experience watching others break apart that made her so jaded about everything.

Whatever it may be, Katsuki saw it, didn’t comment on it.

When he stayed quiet, Mai shrugged. “If you don’t want to do this for yourself, do it for your pup and for the omega. He’s going to need a lot of help after all this.”

And she was right, of course. Katsuki knew she was right. But still, he didn’t like the feeling of the card in his hand. It felt too heavy, too much like a weight, like a burden. And perhaps the card itself wasn’t the burden, only what it represented.

Katsuki fingered the card, tucked it into his pocket.

“If he wakes up,” he muttered, half to himself.

“Hmm,” the older alpha hovered over her seat. Then, she straightened. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of alphas overriding claims?” Katsuki glared at her, but she continued on, “It’s an antiquated thing nowadays, but nonetheless, it does happen. If an alpha’s partner choses to leave them for another alpha, the new alpha can develop a strong need to reclaim their partner and override the hormones from the previous alpha. It can lead to quite… enthusiastic mating sessions. But mostly, it can overwhelm the previous alpha’s hormones in the partner. By biting their new partner, they infuse their own being and overrule the old alpha’s presence.” The older alpha shrugged. “An antiquated thing, to be sure. But an interesting one nonetheless. In certain situations, it can have a drastic effect on the partners.” She glanced between Katsuki and Deku. Katsuki dared not move, even as she spoke. He dared not do anything.

The older alpha intertwined her fingers. “I think I need to relieve myself before we speak to the police. Don’t feel the need to follow me. Tsukauchi will come find you when we’re ready.” And with that, she shambled out of the room, closing the door sharply behind her.

Leaving Katsuki alone with Deku.

Her words echoed in his mind over and over again. She wasn’t seriously suggesting what he thought she was suggesting? That he try to override the alpha’s claim on Deku? What did that even mean? What would that even entail?

He didn’t want to think about it. It made a pit in his stomach roll over in disgust at the thought. He pressed a hand to the card in his pocket, glared forward, hearing her words over and over again.

What if… she hadn’t been suggesting he do anything terrible? If she was a professional, then she wouldn’t have suggested he do what he thought she had meant.

No, he was just being ridiculous.

Still, looking down at Deku, unmoving, even after two days of being off the ventilator, two days that he should have spent awake and aware and with his pup, something was wrong. If it was the alpha’s claim, the alpha’s Quirk, that was doing this to him, then could doctors even do anything? Surely there was some reversal they could give?

But… what if they couldn’t? What if it was just something they would have to wait out? What if it was something that could cause permanent harm to Deku if they let him languish here?

What if… he was just overthinking all of this?

He gave a sigh, ran a hand through his hair again, bit down on a curse. Looked down at Deku.

This wasn’t fair. None of this was. It would be so much better if he would just wake up already.

His gaze trailed down to Deku’s arm. The hard cast had been replaced with a soft brace, progress from when he’d first been brought in. When had his arm even been broken? Katsuki couldn’t remember. When the alpha had attacked him after the omega had bit into his throat? During the times when his world had gone red and he hadn’t been able to watch? What had it been?

He stared and stared and stared, trying to remember, caught a whiff of the omega’s muted scent. It wasn’t often Katsuki could smell him, the environment too sterile, the omega too hurt, his scent gland covered muffling the smell, and with Kazue scenting him nearly every day, the pup’s stronger scent had always overpowered Deku’s. But it was there. A hint of summer days and cool nights. Of starry hills and long-lost days.

Katsuki growled, leaned forward slightly, trying to catch the scent again, a small whiff drawing him even closer. He realized he was leaned toward Deku’s arm, perhaps drawn instinctually toward it. The soft cast must have absorbed the scent from the smaller gland at his wrist.

His wrist….

Katsuki swallowed uneasily.

There was… a scent gland at his wrist. It wasn’t as important as the one at his neck. But it was out of the way, unobtrusive.

If… if he could help the omega in any way, he’d said he would do anything. But was this too far?

I’ve already crossed so many lines. Katsuki stared down at the omega’s wrist intently. Since when have I been okay with all of this?

Maybe he wasn’t okay with it. But maybe it was all he could do.

Slowly, Katsuki reached forward. It was the first time he would touch Deku since finding him in that abandoned building. Even when picking up Kazue from the omega’s body, he’d always been careful not to touch him. It hadn’t felt right. And this didn’t either.

But slowly, he reached forward.

Deku’s skin was soft, but slightly sweaty. A warm spark zinged up Katsuki’s arm at the contact, but he ignored it, leaned forward. The soft cast pulled back, revealing just a sliver of skin along the omega’s wrist. Would it be enough? Was he insane for trying this?

Maybe.

Slowly, Katsuki leaned forward even more, watching the omega, praying for him to just wake up, to see him and scream and kick him away. He’d be okay with that. A lot more okay than what he was about to do.

But it wasn’t a real claiming mark. Nobody ever claimed someone by their wrists. The scent glands on the wrists were used as platonic gestures, as he’d learned through interacting with the pack. So it wasn’t as if he were claiming the omega. It was just to see if it would help, if it brought the omega back to the living world.

That was all.

Katsuki took a breath, closed his eyes, and sunk his teeth into the omega’s wrist.

The taste of summer, of honey, of all the good things in this world, flooded his senses, had him quivering as he hadn’t in five long years. He looked up to see Deku’s reaction. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. A flinch, a jerk, something.

But the omega didn’t react.

Slowly, Katsuki leaned back, readjusted his cast to cover the mark. It had been hardly more than a nip, wasn’t even really bleeding. Had it been enough? Would it even work at all, no matter what he did?

Was he was just being a jerk?

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Katsuki growled, sat back.

Waited.

Watched.

Deku’s heart beat on.

But his body laid still and unmoving.

When Tsukauchi knocked at the door and told him they were ready to interview him, Katsuki felt a growing pit in his stomach he couldn’t quite name, but he felt it tearing around inside of him, making him feel more than a little nauseous.

He glanced one more time at Deku, saw that he still hadn’t moved, and shut the door between them.

- - -

There was something cathartic in revealing the police all he knew of the alpha. Both Tsukauchi and Ito greedily scrambled to write down every small detail, every tiny, meaningless thing. Mai sat in the corner, watching everything, but saying nothing. Katsuki paid close attention to what the detective and inspector were writing down, noticed an ongoing list of tasks for them to do: reach out to Plush Haven, examine alleyway of initial attack, look for witnesses around time of attack, locate a “Ms. Sano,” and on and on.

In the end, Tuskauchi thanked Katsuki for what he’d done, handed him a card for another psychiatrist without saying anything about it. Katsuki tossed it into the trash, caught a raised eyebrow from Mai, though he growled at her.

When he was finally told he could go home, he did so with a grateful sigh.

Iida had dropped him off at the hospital that morning, but instead of calling someone from the pack to come get him, he drew a hat down over his head and put on sunglasses, opting to take the train. It took a lot longer to get out of town and a bit of a walk to get back to the packhouse, but he didn’t mind the time alone.

Time to think. To readjust to the world after what he had seen.

Except, he found he didn’t think much during the trip back. He simply existed in the world, going about his day as if everything was completely normal and all right.

It was a weird experience, to be anonymous, to have the world pass him over, to be a nothing for a few minutes. But he enjoyed the peace.

As soon as he approached the packhouse, he felt a shift in the world. In this place, he wasn’t a nothing, nor could he pretend to be a nothing. Kazue needed him. He needed him so desperately. How had Katsuki never known how much the pup needed him?

Deku had known.

Deku had told him to seek Katsuki out.

They were the words Katsuki had given no voice to for either Mai or the police. They were words that belonged only to the pup and the omega. The omega’s last plea to his pup, to run away, to leave him, to let him die alone.

And Deku had chosen to send him to Katsuki, had told him to find Ground Zero, to place him in the care of the alpha who hadn’t even known of his existence. Katsuki didn’t know if that spoke to Deku’s desperation or a small spark of faith that the omega still had in him. He suspected the former. Deku had been so convinced he was going to die in that building. He’d come this close. But he’d held onto the hope that he could save his pup for as long as he possibly could. It was that hope that had pulled him through, as impossible at it had been. And it was that hope with which he’d sent Kazue to find the one person he could potentially trust with the pup’s life.

Katsuki let out a shuddering breath, trying not to hear the omega’s pleas for his pup to leave him, the pup begging his omega to get up, was startled when someone called out to him.

Kazue rushed out of the packhouse, raced toward Katsuki with a startled Jiro hurrying after him, though she stopped when she realized Katsuki was there.

The alpha growled, stooped to pick up the pup. He wanted to reprimand Kazue for being reckless, for running out of the house when it wasn’t safe, but the moment he was holding the pup, he felt a little lightheaded.

Without thinking, he rubbed the pup’s neck, let off as much of his scent as he could, tried to convey to the pup that he was safe here. Kazue stilled at first, then he dug himself into Katsuki’s neck, purring happily.

“Kacchan, did you see my Mom?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Is he awake yet?”

Katsuki growled. “Not yet.”

The little pup traced a pattern along the alpha’s chest, a meaningless, absent motion. “Kacchan, is my Mommy ever going to wake up?”

Katsuki didn’t really know how to answer that. He rubbed against the pup again, went to face the rest of the pack.

- - -

Falling asleep that night was hell. Katsuki tossed and turned next to Kazue and his nest, unable to find a comfortable spot. Every time he closed his eyes, he was met with gruesome images and horrific sounds.

When he did find sleep, it was to a world not full of lines and vague shapes, but to what Katsuki could imagine in great detail everything that had happened in that abandoned building, with him chained in the corner of the room, watching it all unfold, unable to stop it, unable to do anything but watch. Every now and then, Deku would catch his eyes, beg helplessly for the hero to save him. But Katsuki was just as helpless as he was, just as unable to stop what was happening, unable to do anything at all…

“Kacchan.”

The call of his name had the alpha scrambling up, screaming for Deku, reaching for the omega. It took a moment to realize he was in the dark of his own bedroom, then another to gasp for breath, to stop himself from being sick.

He leaned over himself, pressed his hands to his head, and startled when something touched his arm. He drew away on instinct, nearly snarled in fury, but stopped when he saw little Kazue at his side. The pup blinked up at Katsuki. Katsuki stared back down at him, frozen, not knowing what to do.

Slowly, the pup nudged himself under Katsuki’s arm, curled up against his chest.

“Don’t cry,” the pup said quietly. “Please don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

Katsuki hadn’t even realized he was crying, but once the pup said it, he felt more tears slip down his cheek. He wrapped an arm around Kazue, wiped at his face.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, Kaz.”

Kazue curled a little deeper into Katsuki’s chest, said nothing. He was releasing some of his scent, sleepy and subdued, but it was still a wonderful smell. Katsuki leaned into the pup, let the scent fill up his senses, let it seep into his muscles, let it cover him.

Eventually he laid back down, expecting the pup to crawl back to his nest. Instead, Kazue scrambled up to Katsuki’s neck, curled up just as he would with Deku, settled deeply against his scent gland.
“Good night, Kacchan,” the pup patted his face. “Tomorrow, we’ll go see Mommy and it’ll be okay.”

Katsuki didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t know how to tell him that he might be wrong.

But in that moment, he let himself believe it. He curled in around the pup, growled contentedly. Didn’t sleep much, if any. Just listened to his pup sleeping, on and on, until his door suddenly shot open.

Katsuki leaped up, hands up threateningly, ready to blow away whatever intruder had dared break into his room, already snarling and releasing his most aggressive scent. He was stopped very suddenly when he saw it was Iida, holding the packhouse phone, a look of alarm in his eyes.

“Bakugo, it’s the hospital,” he said, and Katsuki’s stomach dropped into his toes. “Something’s happened. You need to get down there right now.”

Chapter Text

One word had both Iida and Katsuki scrambling, breaking the one constant rule of no costumes in the packhouse to hastily throw on any protective equipment they could find.

It was a word even they, as heroes, didn’t hear very often, but one that had made every bone, every fiber, every cell in Katsuki’s body shiver.

Feral.

After more than a week of barely being alive, Deku was awake.

He was awake and alive.

And he’d gone feral.

If Katsuki weren’t so focused on grabbing his gear and getting to the hospital as fast as he could, he would be laughing hysterically.

Because of course Deku would go feral. After all that had happened, of course he would lose control.

Omegas going feral was exceedingly rare. Katsuki had only ever heard stories of feral omegas, had heard of terrifying omega lost in their own madness, often exhibiting superhuman strength and extreme aggression. It wasn’t uncommon for the omega to hurt someone who got too close or tried to help them. But it also wasn’t uncommon for the omega to inadvertently hurt themselves. In fact, there was almost a one hundred percent injury rate, along with about a fifty-fifty chance of surviving the episode or suffering a shock-induced heart attack and dying.

Deku was alive and awake and Katsuki still faced losing him.

“Police forces are en route,” Iida said as Katsuki yanked on his gloves. No time to calibrate his bracers and gauntlets. He had to go without. But showing up without proper protection would be stupid. Even without a Quirk, Deku was going to be dangerous. They were going to have to be careful. “They’re preparing a tranquilizing team now.”

“Tell them not to bother,” Katsuki growled. He didn’t like the idea of police barging into Deku’s room and shooting him, even if it was just with a tranquilizer. He’d been through enough. The last thing he needed was to be shot by the people trying to help him.

It was going to be hard, but if anyone could calm Deku, it was going to be him.

Him, and Kazue.

It was far too dangerous to bring the pup with him. Even if Deku would never intentionally hurt him, there was absolutely a risk of him being accidentally injured if the omega reacted badly to something else while the pup was too close. Bringing him along was out of the question. He’d do it alone. But that didn’t mean Kazue wasn’t going to be able to help.

Before rushing out the door, Katsuki stopped and crouched beside the bewildered pup. Uraraka stood with him, lending a comforting scent as Kazue blinked, not quite understanding what was going on, but knowing enough to realize something terrible was happening.

When Katsuki crouched in front of him, Kazue reached out, grabbed for him, a little tremble in his lips.

“Mommy?” He whispered.

The alpha squeezed his hands. “It’s okay. I promise. I’m going to help your mom, but I need something from you first.” Kazue leaned in a little closer, blinking when Katsuki held out one of the old hospital blankets, having long since lost Deku’s scent on it. “I need you to scent this blanket for me, all right? Just rub it on your neck, like this.”

Kazue looked a little confused, but he let Katuski rub the blanket along his scent gland, releasing a bit more of his scent instinctually. When Katsuki sniffed it, it smelled just like the pup.

He tucked it into this pocket. “Good. This will help Deku.”

“Can I see Mommy soon?” The pup was very quiet.

“Soon, Kaz, soon. I just need to handle something first.” Kazue glared at him, so Katsuki asked, “Do you trust me?”

The pup looked him up and down, nodded once. “Okay.”

The alpha nodded slowly, stood. “I’ll see you soon. Be good, all right?”

Kazue blinked slowly, narrowed his gaze. “Only if I can see Mommy soon.”

“Soon, I promise.” Katsuki glanced at the clock, bit down on a curse. “I have to go. Be good.”

When the alpha tore away from the pup, he couldn’t hesitate when he heard a small whine, couldn’t stop, couldn’t turn around. The longer he stayed, the closer the police got to the hospital, the more in danger there was of Deku suffering a debilitating injury or heart attack.

Iida was waiting for him outside. The pack alpha glanced Katuski up and down.

“Are you sure you’re ready to face this? We can find someone else.”

“No one else can do it,” Katsuki growled. “I’m ready. Let’s go already.”

For a frustrating moment, the other alpha just stood there, until Katsuki lifted his lip in a snarl. Then, he nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”

- - -

Katsuki did not enjoy using Iida as transportation. But it was the fastest way to the hospital. So he swallowed his pride and rode on Iida’s back, the engine hero zipping through the predawn city streets.

A nurse was waiting for them when they arrived, trying to keep a calm façade.

“This way, please—” she tried to say, but Katsuki and Iida ran past her, into the hospital, down the hallways the alpha had come to know so well.

They rounded that final corner and were faced with what felt like the entirety of the hospital staff; nurses, doctors, security personnel, anyone who had any business within a mile of that room, they were all gathered outside Deku’s room, though there was a wide breadth given, as if everyone were afraid of the door bursting open, releasing what was inside.

When they rounded the corner something else struck Katsuki nearly to a stop.

The overwhelming smell of fear.

It was exactly what he’d smelled in that abandoned building, missing only the lingering scent of the alpha.

Deku was terrified.

Katsuki raced forward, went to grab for the door, but a strong grip stopped him.

“Ground Zero, wait,” Iida said sharply, earning only a vicious snarl from Katsuki. “Where’s the doctor?”

“Who cares? Deku needs me—”

“Ah! There you are! Thank goodness!” Tanaka’s voice grated on Katsuki’s nerves, renewed his snarling, though the doctor took no notice.

“What’s the situation?” Iida asked, stepping in front of Katsuki, ignoring when the alpha turned his growls to him.

Tanaka nodded to the room. “Midoriya is inside. He’s barricaded himself. We believe it may be a response to his situation before being admitted. The last he knew, he was being attacked by an alpha, with his pup in danger, then he wakes up in an unfamiliar place, alone, without his pup anywhere nearby.” He sighed deeply. “He’s just scared. He just needs something he knows, something he’s familiar with.”

“Right,” Katsuki shoved him and Iida aside. “So let me handle it. Call off the police.”

Tanaka frowned sharply. “He’s scared, but he’s also dangerous. He needs help, but he could very well hurt someone or himself if we’re not careful.”

“Right, so we don’t have any time to lose!” Katsuki stepped to the door, pressed his palm against it. If it was barricaded, then it was unlikely he could break it down without using his explosions, which was a bad idea in the hospital. Deku had been on oxygen, so there was a chance he’d broken the line and the room was filled with the highly flammable gas. So that wouldn’t work. “Ingenium, you and the other alphas need to back away.”

Iida crossed his arms. “I’m not letting you go in there without backup.”

“It’ll be fine,” Katsuki growled. “Just get back.” He stood in front of the window. Safety glass, as it was in every hospital, wires woven through the glass to make it even less likely to completely shatter. “No matter what happens, don’t come into the room until I tell you, all right?” He cast a glance to Iida and Tanaka, neither of who had moved. “Did you hear me? Get out of here!”

Iida tapped his finger, nodded to Tanaka. In the end, the doctor, several of the security guards, and some of the nurses had to leave. But Iida stayed, even as Katsuki growled at him. “I’m not leaving you alone. I’m going in with you.”

“You dumb shit,” Katsuki snarled, earning a growl of warning from his pack alpha. “Deku’s been through hell. Do you hear me? Hell. The last thing he needs is to be surrounded by alphas. Even though he knows me, me being an alpha is going to be tricky enough. I need him focused on me, not on any other potential alpha scents nearby. This’ll only work if I can break through to him and I can only do that if I’m the one he’s focused on.”

“He’s feral, Bakugo. He could kill you.”

“Then let him kill me.” Iida jolted in shock, but Katuski took no notice. “If it would make him feel better, then let it happen.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Iida snapped. “You’re just going to give up?”

“No, but I’m not going to hurt him. If it means I die, then I die.” Katsuki pressed against the glass, wished the curtain wasn’t drawn so he could see what was inside. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of just laying down and letting him kill me. But if it happens, then I won’t regret it. And neither should you.”

“You could leave your pup all alone.”

Katsuki snapped over his shoulder, glared at Iida with widened eyes. The pack alpha returned his glare without flinching. “If you let Midoriya kill you and something happens to him, then your pup is left all alone.”

There was a beat between them, a little more than a heartbeat. Katsuki counted it out against the pounding in his chest. “Kirishima and the rest of the pack would take care of him.”

Iida shook his head. “It wouldn’t be the same. And suppose Midoriya survived. He’d have to live, for the rest of his life, knowing he’d killed you. If he’s really been through hell, as you and I both know he has, then it wouldn’t be fair to him to let him do that to you, to let him live as a murderer for the rest of his life on top of everything else.”

Katsuki wanted to growl and argue and tell him he was wrong. But he knew he wasn’t. It would be selfish of him to just let Deku kill him. It wouldn’t help anyone. It would only make everything so much worse.

He paused for a moment, then snapped his jaw. “Just go, Iida. This isn’t going to work with you around.”

Iida didn’t move, glared at him. “Are you going to just let Midoriya kill you?”

Katsuki tapped at the glass, heard a snarling hiss from within. It didn’t sound anything like Deku, but he knew it had to be.

He stepped back. “No, I won’t. But like I said, I’m not going to hurt him.” He leveled a glare at the pack alpha. “Trust me. I’m a hero after all. I’ve faced worse before.”

Iida gave him an incredulous look, but sighed deeply. “Even if I don’t agree on your methods, I understand what you mean when you say alpha scents could trigger him. So I will respect your request. However, I’m calling in for beta and omega heroes to back you up.”

“Don’t bother,” Katsuki glanced around, saw a chair, picked it up, but it was pretty light. “And call off that tranquilizer team! I’ll handle this on my own.”

While Katsuki searched around the office, Iida hesitated a moment longer before he directed people to move back, encouraging them to stay away as the alpha growled, examined the glass again.

He could kick it in, he supposed, but that would leave him open for attack. But maybe it was his only chance, and maybe if he got through in one movement, got to a place where Deku could actually see and smell him before the omega had much time to get violent, he’d pause long enough for Katsuki to calm him.

It wasn’t the best plan, but time was running out. The longer he remained in that feral state, the more at risk he became of suffering terrible injuries or a heart attack.

So he set his teeth, braced himself against the opposite wall, and charged the window, shoulder down.

Under the force of his weight, the window broke, bent, and fell free of its frame, Katsuki rolling into the room, landing in a crouch, and immediately releasing his most calming scents. A scrambling in the corner had him glancing quickly around, taking in the room, bracing himself for what he would find.

The hospital bed had been jammed up against the door, the curtains pulled on the windows, much of the medical equipment in the room shoved aside. A few chairs had been gathered together in the far corner, blankets and sheets strewn over them. Every single light had been smashed out, leaving the room in darkness, save for small slivers from the breaks in the curtains. It wasn’t a lot of light, but it was enough for Katsuki to see something moving just beneath the cover of the blankets, to catch a spot of green and the flash of bared teeth. The smell of fear in the air was suffocating with the omega so near.

And splattered across the floor in front of him, the alpha saw bits of blood, smeared in desperate lines across the tiles.

Katsuki felt his throat tighten at the sight. Was it Deku’s blood? Someone else’s? No, Tanaka would have mentioned if he’d already hurt someone. He’d talk about the omega being dangerous in terms of potential risk, not known risk. So this was his blood. But it wasn’t a lot of blood. Only enough to show he was hurt. And judging from the IV line smeared in the blood, Katuski could guess where it was coming from. But it was only a guess. If the omega was hurt and bleeding on top of everything else, then he needed help, now.

Slowly, he focused on the corner, on the shadowed figure curled up under the makeshift cover of toppled furniture and torn sheets.

“Hey,” the alpha lowered his voice, held up his hands, tilted his head to the side in submission. He was met with a low growl, a warning to stay away. “It’s all right. It’s me, Deku. It’s Katsuki.”

A sharp, shrill snarl cut through the air. A pair of green eyes peered from the corner, pupils blown wide, reason and logic long beaten away.

Katsuki let him growl, but he didn’t back down. “I know, I know. You’re scared and you’re hurt, I know. But it’s okay now.”

He took a hesitant step forward, the omega snarling, jerking forward threateningly. Katsuki caught a glance of a freckled nose and sweat-dampened hair. He paused, but didn’t back away. At this point, he was sure backing away would be just as bad as steeping forward. If he showed any weakness, Deku would see it, and he’d see it as an opportunity to attack. But the dilated pupils and excessive sweat were both bad signs, on top of any potential blood loss. He had to calm him down, and quickly.

“Here Deku, I brought you something.” Katsuki pulled the blanket from his pocket and tossed it toward the corner, Deku scrambling back into the shadows with a sharp cry. “I know you must be thinking about Kazue. He’s okay. He’s not hurt. He’s safe. If you calm down, I can bring him to you. But you have to calm down first.” He trailed off as he heard shuffling from the corner, saw a flicker of movement, the smell catching the omega’s attention more than his words ever could.

Slowly, nearly one limb at a time, Deku emerged, crouched in front of Katsuki, never daring to draw his eyes away.

As he came into the flickering light through the curtains, the alpha felt his throat tighten.

There was blood running from both the omega’s neck and wrist. Deku had clawed out the bite marks on his body, both the rogue alpha’s and Katsuki’s.

And now, he was bleeding. He was hurt again.

Something pitched in Katsuki’s stomach. Something deeper than his own feelings. When he reached for Deku, it was instinct that drove him forward.

“Deku!” He called, desperate to help, desperate to stop the bleeding.

The omega’s eyes reduced to slits.

He leaped at Katsuki, throwing the alpha to the ground, the air rushing from his lungs.

Something kicked Katsuki’s brain out of his alpha instincts and into his hero ones. When Deku’s hands reached to claw at his eyes, he ducked away, tucking his body up around Deku and flipping him over, trying to pin him to the ground. The omega snarled and screeched and bore his teeth in maddened fury, flailing wildly to try to get Katsuki off of him.

“Deku, stop! You’re hurt! Just calm down!”

Deku snarled, snapped at his throat, the alpha pulling back. In his attempts to avoid the omega’s teeth, he missed the fist aimed right at his kidney, Katsuki cutting off a yelp as his body roiled in protest of the attack. Then, suddenly Deku was on top of him, his hands around the alpha’s throat, fingers dug into his windpipe.

Katsuki choked, tried to grab at Deku’s arms, tried to pull him away. Deku hissed, pressed closer to him, Katsuki only able to see his slitted eyes and bared teeth, his broken left canine.

“Deku, stop!” The alpha gasped. The omega only growled, bit at the alpha’s hands when he reached to try to free himself.

A scream and sudden, panicked shouts pulled at his attention, but he couldn’t afford to look away, had to try to shake Deku off of him. The omega shoved against him, when he tried to buck him off, kept snarling and snapping whenever he tried to struggle.

He was losing oxygen. Soon, he would go lightheaded, pass out. Potentially suffocate if the omega didn’t let go. And he couldn’t afford to let himself die. Iida’s words echoed in his mind, telling him not to let Deku live with the knowledge he’d killed Katsuki. Kazue’s smell, faint from the blanket laying nearby, had more words ringing in his head, promises to the pup still held at his heart.

He’d told the pup he’d see him soon.

He’d told the pup he’d see his mom soon.

He’d told the pup it would be okay.

And he had every intention of keeping those promises.

But he also refused to hurt Deku anymore. Not ever again, no matter the cost.

One way or another, he had to do this, he had to live, had to make sure Deku lived as well.

Katsuki growled, set his teeth, and locked eyes with the omega. There was only one choice. If Deku wasn’t going to let go and he didn’t want to hurt Deku, there was only one way to do this.

His calm scent roared into his strongest, most aggressive alpha pheromones, Katsuki barking sharply at the omega, a command to be heard, to be respected, to be obeyed.

Deku flinched.

It was a deep reaction. Katsuki could see it jerk the omega backward from his navel, fingers loosening ever so slightly, just enough for the alpha to get his hand between his throat and the omega’s fingers. The moment he did, Deku snarled back, dug into his neck again, though this time, Katsuki was able to gasp in some air, to keep a small space between his throat and the omega’s strangling grip.

“Deku, it’s okay,” his voice croaked, didn’t even really sound like his own voice anymore. He reigned in his pheromones, pumped out his calm scent once again, though the omega didn’t react. “It’s all right. I’m here now. I’m not going to let anything hurt you. Not ever again.”

Even as he spoke, the omega growled over his words, not hearing a one of them. Katsuki pulled at Deku’s fingers, but he only dug in more.

He wasn’t getting anywhere. Deku was still feral. He was still bleeding. He was still terrified.

There wasn’t much more Katsuki could think to do. Not anything that knew could convince him to calm down. He couldn’t even tell if anything he’d said so far had gotten through, if Deku was listening or if he was completely lost to the madness.

But he was running out of time. He had to something.

So, he took in a deep breath, and reached for Deku’s face, a quick, sudden movement, giving him no time to react. The omega reeled away, froze as Katsuki’s fingers brushed over his cheek. The gloves on his hands meant his touch would be cold and a little rough, so Katsuki softened his fingers, twirled a curl of hair along the omega’s face. Deku’s teeth were set in a snarl, but he’d gone quiet, watching Katsuki.

The alpha smiled. “It’s okay,” he croaked. “You don’t have to fight anymore. It’s over. You won. You beat that bastard.”

Deku’s fingers loosened. His eyes dilated slightly. His body was shaking.

It was the only reaction Katsuki had gotten so far, and he grabbed onto it, stroking the omega’s nose and cheek, over the freckles he used to count, the ones he’d known by heart.

He didn’t know how any Deku had anymore.

“Hey Deku,” Katsuki curled his fingers around the hand strangling him, rubbed little circles into it. “I missed you.”

The omega sat up, went rigid. He kept hold of Katsuki’s neck, but his fingers shook. Tears were gathering in his eyes.

Katsuki rubbed his chin along the omega’s hand. “You’re still so beautiful, Deku. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, or maybe more than a moment, neither of them moved. What the alpha saw though, what he felt, was the omega unwinding, his grip fading, the first of his tears falling.

When Deku sobbed, Katsuki hushed him. When he pulled Deku’s hands, they released his throat. When the omega’s eyes cleared and he gasped and shuddered, Katsuki pressed his lips to his knuckles.

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “It’s all right now.”

Deku looked down at him, shivered, sobbed.

And light flashed into the room.

In a second, Katsuki turned, saw the muzzle of a gun aimed at the omega through the window.

He didn’t have time to think.

He threw himself over Deku, heard the snap of the gun, felt the punch of something striking his shoulder, stumbled as fatigue ripped through his limbs.

“Kacchan!”

At the call of the omega, Katsuki lifted his head, saw him jerk as the gun went off again, watched as Deku’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head, as he collapsed to the ground.

Heat rippled through his limbs. He howled, pushed himself up, turned, saw red, heard the gun discharge once more, and fell into a dark voice.

- - -

The void consuming Katsuki held him still and quiet, until the rage drained away, until the world colored itself in more than just red, until he opened his eyes and found himself staring up at a white paneled ceiling. It was a sight he was familiar with, even if he knew he might not know this particular ceiling. And it wasn’t a sight he was happy to see.

He growled, pushed himself up, saw only that he was laying in a bed before his head spun and his arms trembled and he collapsed back against his pillow.

“Fuck.”

“Language! Really now,” Iida’s voice wasn’t perhaps a surprise to hear, though Katsuki couldn’t say he was happy to hear it either.

The pack alpha sat next to him, his helmet removed, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he stared down them at Katsuki. He looked slightly disapproving, which was to say he didn’t seem any more or less bothered than he normally was.

“I’m glad you’re awake. You gave us all quite a fright.”

“Where’s Deku? What happened to him?”

Iida sighed deeply. “Bakugo, you were shot with a tranquilizer gun, twice. You need to relax.”

Katsuki growled, forced himself up. When his head swam, he clenched his teeth, focused on the pinpoint his vision had reduced to. A hand steadied him, until he shrugged it off.

“What happened?” As much as he didn’t want to hear the other alpha reprimand him, an inevitability he had felt in the firmness of his grip, he needed something to focus on to keep from passing out. So he let the pack alpha sigh, listening if only to ground himself in the familiar voice.

“Midoriya was attacking you, so the police attempted to subdue him and you put yourself in the way and got hit. Then, when they neutralized Midoriya, you turned and went to attack them so they shot you again!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Honestly, what were you thinking? I told you to not let yourself be killed!”

“I wasn’t,” Katsuki clicked his jaws. “I’d gotten him calm and you let those morons shoot him anyway!” He pressed a hand to his forehead, wondered if he was going to be sick. “Where’s Deku? Is he awake? Is he all right?”

Iida crossed his arms. “I’m not going to tell you anything until you’re seen by the doctor. You’re simply in no shape to—”

“Either tell me or I’ll tear apart this damn hospital to find him!”

A sharp snap of the other alpha’s jaws had Katsuki quieting. It wasn’t often Iida exhibited such behaviors. In fact, of all those in the pack, he was, ironically, the one least likely to show any sort of gender-typical behavior. For being the pack alpha, Iida was always told he was a weird alpha. It worked well for their pack because Katsuki was often over-indulgent of alpha behaviors, the lead alpha and second alpha balancing each other out. It wasn’t a conscious effort by either of them that made it work, it simply did. But on those rare occasions where Iida reminded Katsuki who was in charge, it took a lot in the alpha not to growl back, not to immediately challenge Iida.

Because in truth, he didn’t want to challenge Iida. Not seriously.

What he wanted, was for the other alpha to get the hell out of his face.

So he growled sharply, but didn’t rise to Iida’s challenge. The pack alpha readjusted his glasses.

“Now then,” he sat back. “You will not do any more property damage to this hospital. One window was quite enough.”

“It was necessary.”

“All well and good, but it’s a bill for the agency to pay either way.”

Katsuki growled, watched as Iida shifted in his seat. “Midoriya is fine. And he only got one dose of the tranquilizer. I believe he’s been awake for about an hour now.”

An hour?

Katsuki’s head whipped around sharply, finding a clock on the wall nearby. While he didn’t quite remember exactly when he and Iida had arrived at the hospital, he estimated it had been around five in the morning.

It was currently eight.

The encounter with Deku couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes. Which meant he’d been asleep for almost three hours.

“Dammit!” Katsuki threw himself out of bed, only for his legs to immediately collapse from under him. “FUCK!”

Iida sighed deeply and with a resignation that spoke to many beleaguered years. “Be careful. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“Just get back into bed already.”

As much as Katsuki wanted to argue, as much as he wanted to fight, as much as he wanted to see Deku right now, he knew that wasn’t possible with his body still waking up from the drugs. He needed a little more time. Just a few more minutes. Then he could start looking for the omega. Hell, maybe someone would actually tell him where to go.

Still, he did growl as Iida helped him back into bed.

He leaned back, let out a frustrated huff as Iida resumed his seat, the pack alpha settling comfortably. “I’ve been in contact with Kirishima. He’ll be bringing Kazue here when the hospital’s visiting hours begin.”

That was in two hours.

In two hours, Kazue was going to potentially be allowed to reunite with his omega. Deku was going to get to see his pup, safe and sound and happy.

He ran a hand over his eyes. “Has the doctor said anything about Deku being allowed to see anyone?”

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

There was something in the alpha’s words that had Katsuki turning toward him. Iida wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Something was wrong.

Katsuki had one guess what it was.

“You talked with him, didn’t you?” Iida’s lips thinned. Katsuki sat up immediately. “Well? How is he? Were the cuts very deep? Tell me, is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Iida hurried. “A few stitches were needed at his neck, but nothing to be worried about.”

Stitches, huh? That meant the cuts had been deep. As if the omega had been trying to tear the alpha out of him, or whatever remained of him.

Katsuki bit his lip. “And… his wrist?”

Iida shrugged. “It was fine. They bandaged him up. He’ll be okay, Bakugo, don’t worry.”

“When will you learn to stop ordering me around?”

“It’s not an order. It’s a suggestion.”

Katsuki snapped his jaws, but sat back. At least it sounded like Deku was going to be okay. Stitches weren’t ideal, but at least he was alive.

He was alive.

“You aren’t going to ask what else he said?”

The words pricked at the curiosity and questions circling Katsuki’s head. He bit down on the words that wanted to form on his lips, scoffed. “If it was important for me to know, then you’d tell me.”

Iida considered him, seemed to eye him strangely. Then, he shifted. “He’s very nice.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything. He could only imagine what Deku had said that made Iida think he was nice. Not that he wasn’t nice. He was exceedingly nice. But what the hell could he have to say after everything that would be at all nice to someone else? He deserved to scream and rage and be absolutely unbearable after what he’d gone through. And Iida had said he was nice.

Seemed like he hadn’t changed all that much.

A deep, unsettled part of Katsuki ached at the thought. He brushed his hand over his lips, remembered kissing Deku’s knuckles, cursed quietly.

“Language,” Iida said sternly. Katsuki didn’t even bother to growl. “You know, he asked about you.”

That unsettled part of him leaped up, demanded to know more. Katsuki just ran his fingers over his mouth.

“He was worried he’d hurt you badly, but he was happy to hear you weren’t terribly injured. You nor anyone else in the hospital.”

It would have been easy to start asking questions then: what did he ask? Did he seem really interested in me? Did he say he missed me, too?

Instead, he snorted. “Sounds like Deku. Worrying about everyone else before himself.”

Iida was quiet.

“He… said he wanted to see you. When you woke up.”

Something else, something very settled, deeply imbedded, uncurled from Katsuki’s stomach. He knew guilt and regret when it raised its ugly head. He rubbed at his lips one more time.

“Well then go get the damn doctor already. Tell him to give me something to get my feet steady. Don’t want to keep him waiting any longer.”

Chapter Text

In the end, no matter how much Katsuki growled and threatened and otherwise had Iida clawing his hair out in frustration, the doctors could offer him no quick fix to his unsteadiness. He had to wait it out.

He did so with mumbled curses and many clicks of his teeth, literally biting at the chomp to get to see Deku. He was pacified only slightly when told that the omega was still recovering and wouldn’t be able to see him anyway, not for a couple of hours, though he had a sinking suspicion the doctors only told him that to get him to calm down.

He was even more suspicious and annoyed when his own door was knocked on and Tsukauchi stepped inside.

“The hell do you want?” Katsuki growled.

Unfazed, the inspector smiled pleasantly. “I was making sure you weren’t too badly hurt. When I got the news that you’d been in a room with a feral omega, I was concerned you may have been injured.” He pointedly stared at Katsuki’s neck, wrapped in bandages.

The alpha clicked his tongue. “I’m fine. Deku didn’t hurt me.”

“Uh huh,” Tsukauchi took a seat next to Iida, nodding politely to the other hero. Then, he took out his notebook. “With Midoriya conscious, we’ll be able to move forward in our investigation. That being said, we do recommend both he and your pup remain in protective custody for the time being.”

“Is that what we’re calling it? Protective custody?” Katsuki growled.

Tsuksauchi smiled pleasantly. “Do you prefer kidnapping?” The alpha lifted his lip, a silent warning, but the inspector shrugged. “Despite being the pup’s alpha, you didn’t have a right to just take him without intervention from the court. Ito wrote up some paperwork for you, but don’t think that’s gone unnoticed.” Katsuki blinked, keeping the snarl on his face to hide his surprise. Ito had covered for him? Why? He didn’t have much time to consider it as Tsukauchi continued, “Midoriya has agreed to allow Kazue to remain in your protective custody temporarily, but only temporarily, and he has full say over where he goes and with whom.” The inspector scribbled something on his notebook, tore off the page, held it out to Katsuki. “Lots of people are covering for you, Ground Zero. Don’t make it a habit of being their problem to fix.”

“You wanna say that again?!” Katsuki nearly leaped up, but Iida was suddenly there, pushing him back down.

“Bakugo! Enough! You’re just proving him right!”

Katsuki snarled, locked eyes with the inspector. Tsukauchi didn’t look concerned at all. He offered the paper again. “This situation is a very delicate one. I can’t nor will I go into detail, but we have suspicion that both the pup and omega may still be in danger. Whatever your personal issues or attachments to them, now is the time to take care of them. They need someone there for them. Don’t let yourself get in the way of that.”

In all honesty, they weren’t words Katsuki hadn’t heard before. People had been telling him for years that he was making things harder for himself by acting the way he did. It was all too easy to shrug them off, to dismiss their ideas because he knew what he wanted and he knew how he wanted to get there.

But there was something raw about what Tsukauchi was telling him. Before, his actions had only ever hurt himself. Now, they were directly affecting both Kazue and Deku.

He was too stunned to move, caught between wanting to snarl and rage or just curl up under the weight of all that had happened. It was Iida who ultimately took the paper from Tsukauchi.

“Thank you, Inspector.”

Tsukauchi smiled at him. “I’m trusting you’ll keep him in line, Ingenium.”

“Worry not!” The pack alpha stood tall and proud at attention. “We will assist the police however we can! And we will continue to look after Kazue for as long as necessary!”

“Good. I’ll be in touch if anything changes.”

The inspector left without another word to Katsuki and once he was gone, Iida slumped as if in relief. He sat heavily next to Katsuki, rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize you’d just taken Kazue. I thought you had worked with the police to help him while Midoriya was asleep. That was not a pleasant conversation to have.”

“Should I even care about what the hell you mean?” It was easy to snap at people. Much easier than to face the consequences barreling toward him.

Iida pinched the bridge of his nose again, his glass clacking as they were pushed up his face. “Of course you should care. You very nearly lost all rights to that pup. You should be grateful that Midoriya was amenable to allowing you to care for him.”

Deku, huh?

Katsuki shifted in his bed. Flexed his toes, still feeling a few pins and needles in them. “What did Deku say?”

Iida readjusted his glasses, once, twice. Peered through them down at Katsuki. “When Tsukauchi told me he had discovered that Ito had drawn up a protective order for the pup in your name, I immediately went to speak with Midoriya. I was worried he would be upset with what we had done, that he would demand we give the pup back to the proper authorities. I was worried I was going to have to convince him that Kazue was quite safe and happy with us and that while he recovered, the best place for his pup was with us.” He sat back, crossed his arms. “I remembered what you said about your relationship with him, and I suspected he was the omega you sometimes spoke of or smelled like when we were in school, so I didn’t know if there was much animosity between the two of you. But he seemed relieved to hear Kazue was with us. He was happy that the pup had found you.”

Perhaps it wasn’t a surprise. After all, Deku had begged Kazue go and find Katsuki, had used what he might have thought were his last words to try to send his pup away and to the alpha who had abandoned them years earlier. Even so, Katsuki found himself equally grateful that the omega wasn’t upset. Perhaps as much as he shouldn’t have been surprised by this, he deserved to have Deku absolutely furious that he’d taken advantage of the situation. Because, good intentions or not, he knew full well he’d taken advantage of the situation. Deku was smart enough to realize that as well.

The thought brought up another point that was itching at the back of the alpha’s head. Deku had said he wanted to talk with him. What, exactly, did he have to say? If he had told Iida he was okay with Kazue staying with them, then what else was there to say? And what to him, specifically?

More so, what did Katsuki have to say to Deku?

The last question bore at his nerves, twisted up his tongue until he was biting it to making sure it was flat in his mouth.

Iida held out the paper to him, though Katsuki ignored him until he said, “This is important, for both you and the pup. So I suggest you do as he requests.”

Katsuki growled, snatched the paper, saw that the inspector had written, again, the name and number of the psychiatrist whose card he’d given the alpha the previous day. Underneath the information, he’d written: A stable environment is one of the requirements for your continued protective custody order. That means you, Bakugo. Make an appointment. Make one for the pup as well. You both need it.

Katsuki ground his teeth, balled up the paper, tossed it aside. Iida frowned, but didn’t move to get it. “This is serious, Katsuki. He could take Kazue away if you don’t do as he says.”

“It’s fine,” the alpha snapped. “I have a plan.”

The pack alpha watched him, sighed deeply. Before he could start lecturing again, Katsuki moved to the edge of the bed, carefully put his feet on the ground. He stood, wary, but his knees didn’t buckle, nor did he feel the pins and needles as badly anymore. “Where’s Deku? I won’t keep him waiting anymore.”

Iida frowned. “You really should wait for the doctors.”

“Ha!” Katsuki stomped over to the door. “Cover for me. I won’t be back.” He shut it before Iida could call him back, made his way towards the nurse’s station, ignoring the slightly limp in his step.

- - -

Though unhappy with him being out and about, the nurses told Katsuki Deku’s room number after the alpha explained the omega was looking for him and that he’d rest after speaking with him.

The attending nurse’s nostrils flared at his request, though eventually, she shook her head. “You alphas are really terrible at that, you know. Demanding things just because you think you’re owed them.” She pointed to a nearby room. “If you upset my patient, I’ll have you forcibly removed.”

Part of Katsuki wanted to stay and argue with her, put her in her place, but another part of him knew it would just prove her right. And anyway, Deku was waiting for him.

So he snapped his jaws and turned on his heels, focusing on the door she had pointed out. He stepped confidentially up to it, but the moment he stood in front of it, he wavered, hand raised.

Was he actually about to do this? Was he actually about to confront Deku again? See him? Speak with him? He still didn’t know what he wanted to say. Nor did he know what Deku was going to say.

As much as Katsuki didn’t want it to affect him, he felt his heart beating wildly, his palms sweating. A glance around told him the nurse was watching him with narrowed eyes. So he wiped his hands on his pants, knocked at the door, and opened it. The moment before entering, he took in a breath, then he leaned through the doorway, took a single step over the threshold.

Veridian eyes locked onto his almost immediately, pinned him in place with a silent stare that spoke more words than Katsuki knew could ever pass between them.

There was something about the way the omega was looking at the alpha. It was hardened and untrusting, cautious in a way that made Katsuki’s alpha brain whine.

Omega unhappy! Fix! Make omega happy!

As much as he wanted to snip and snarl at the voice in his head, he couldn’t seem to move, waiting for Deku to do something first. The omega, however, seemed content to just look at Katsuki, to take him in piece by piece, eyes taking a wandering path up his figure.

Katsuki, too, found himself looking at the omega, though not as deeply, flicking to his neck – bandaged – as well as his wrist – also bandaged, brace still in place. But mostly, he drunk in Deku’s eyes, relishing the sight of them, trying to memorize every detail. Every shade of green, every fleck of silver and ebony, every shimmer of unspoken emotion. Once upon a time, he could tell what Deku was thinking just with a glance. Now, he couldn’t tell exactly what was going through his head. He didn’t seem particularly glad to see Katsuki. He didn’t seem disappointed. Not scared.

He seemed… guarded. Protecting himself. Anticipating having to defend himself.

Something left over from the attack?

Barriers thrown up because of who he was facing?

He couldn’t tell.

What quickly became clear was the omega had no intention of speaking first, taking his evaluation of Katsuki slowly, then sitting there, waiting.

So Katuski shifted. “May I come in?”

Deku raised an eyebrow, a narrowed, perhaps surprised look. He nodded to the seat next to him, as much of an invitation as Katsuki was going to get.

Still, he took it.

He shut the door quietly, sat slowly at Deku’s side. The entire time, the omega’s eyes never left him. He didn’t even seem to blink. So Katsuki moved slowly and deliberately, careful not to startle him. Although, the more he thought about it, the less Katsuki thought he looked afraid. Instead, he seemed intently focused.

Another silence passed between them, Deku making no moves to break it.

It was Katuski again who carefully said, “How are you feeling?”

The omega finally looked away, though the alpha saw the dry look on his face. “I’ve been better.”

Katsuki rubbed the back of his neck, felt the bandages under his fingers, realized he and Deku had matching bandages, though very different wounds.

“Right. I’m sorry for that.”

Deku smiled vaguely. “Inspector Tsukauchi says I have you to thank for being here. Being alive, I mean.”

The words were awkward. It would have been easy to dismiss them as he had so many other times with hundreds of others he’d rescued. But this was very different. Maybe at the surface it wasn’t – Deku, the victim, Katsuki, the hero, the rescuer – but the truth was so much more than that. Their history was far too deep for it to be that simple.

So Katsuki didn’t know what to say. Eventually, he muttered, “Yeah, well… I was just on patrol and Kazue… found me.”

Deku’s smile wavered, deepened sadly. “The inspector said he’s okay. That you’re taking care of him.”

“Yeah, I am. Well, me and my pack.” Deku’s head snapped toward him, expression sharp. Katsuki held up his hands, sensing the omega’s sudden aggression. “Don’t worry. My pack are all heroes. Iida, Ingenium, he’s out pack alpha.”

“I know.” The omega’s voice was sharp when he spoke. Katsuki waited, but he didn’t elaborate.

Tentatively, he continued, “Our head beta, Kirishima, he’s bringing Kazue to see you.”

At the mention of his pup, Deku’s lip quivered. He turned quickly away from the alpha, gripping his blanket tightly. He breathed out, and his voice was shaky, “Was… was he… hurt… badly?”

Katsuki shook his head, lowered his voice. “No, no. He was okay. Bite mark, some burns on his hands.” Where had those come from? He couldn’t think of anything from Deku’s memories that explained those. “He’s fully recovered now. He’s okay.”

He paused as Deku nodded, though the omega said nothing more, let the silence continue on until Katsuki broached it once again. “I… brought a blanket with his scent. Thought it might make you feel better.”

To his surprise, Deku snorted, smiled, perhaps ironically. “That wasn’t a very smart idea, you know.” Katsuki blinked as the omega turned to him. “My guess is you didn’t tell the doctor you had that, huh?”

“No,” Katsuki shifted, tried to hide his nervousness as Deku smiled, seemingly laughing at him. “Omegas are always calmed by the scent of their pups I thought.”

“Oh I get that’s what you thought.” Deku laughed, though it wasn’t much of a laugh. “Have you never heard of ‘protective instincts?’ ” Katsuki paused and Deku laughed again. “You know. That instinct that kicks into the highest gear when an omega goes feral? The instinct that every omega is most effected by when it comes to their pups?”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “I, uh… didn’t think about that.”

Deku shook his head. “Why would you, I guess.”

Katsuki rubbed his neck again. “I’m sorry, for making it worse.”

Immediately, Deku’s eyes went to the alpha’s hand, to the bandages wrapped around his neck.

This time, Katsuki was absolutely certain he knew what words were forming in the omega’s mouth, clicking his teeth first and saying, “Don’t you dare say anything about this. You didn’t do this to me. I was being stupid. It was my fault.”

The omega seemed to think, to consider him. Then, he shrugged. “You’re right.”

Something in his tone had Katsuki pausing, had a growl rumbling in his chest, though he cut if off quickly, horrified at what he’d done. But then, Deku was laughing, an actual, genuine laugh, leaning back in his bed, relaxing. The sight of the omega calming settled Katsuki, had him accepting the criticism without fuss. In the end, he sat back, relaxed as the omega relaxed, calmed as the omega calmed.

It was familiar. How many times before had Deku calmed Katsuki with just his presence? How many times had Deku helped Katuski by just being at his side? How long had the alpha been craving this?

“You know, I still haven’t told you thanks.”

The omega spoke quietly, carefully, as if afraid of the words tripping along his tongue.

Katsuki turned to him, found Deku with tears in his eyes. Without thinking, he took the omega’s hand, squeezed it, held him. Deku tried to smile at him, but his expression broke as his lip quivered and he wiped at his eyes, sniffled, then sobbed.

There was a lot Katsuki wanted to do. He wanted to lean in, to comfort the omega as he would have years ago. But he knew that wouldn’t be appropriate. So he held Deku’s hand, he let the omega cry, let him unwind from all the emotions he was holding back.

“Thank you,” he gasped, sobbed. “Thank you for saving my pup. Thank you for saving me. Just… thank you.”

There weren’t words for what Katsuki wanted to say. Nothing that could accurately convey what he was thinking.

Maybe… it was better to show him.

Slowly, Katsuki raised Deku’s hand. Pressed his lips to his knuckles again. Felt the omega stiffen, saw his eyes go wide, his tears silencing, if only for a moment. Encouraged, Katsuki whispered, “Anytime, Deku.”

It was like a door closing. A wall built up. A barrier raising. Deku’s eyes closed off, and he slipped his hand out of Katsuki’s.

An awkward moment followed, passed between them, something Katsuki wasn’t really certain he could name. All he knew was Deku was no longer crying, but he wasn’t happy.

Not at all.

They were spared another minute of uncertain silence when Katsuki’s phone dinged. He fumbled for it, saw it was a message from Kirishima, knew what it meant.

Immediately, he stood. “I’ll be right back.” He caught a raised eyebrow from Deku as the alpha quickly scrambled from the room without saying anything more.

He rushed down the hallway, found himself in the waiting room, found himself standing in front of Kirishima and Kazue, the pup curled up on the beta’s chest.

“Hey man! What’s going on?” Kirishima spoke, but Katsuki hardly heard him.

All he saw was his pup, how his eyes lit up as he realized Katsuki smelled of his omega, a question in his face, a hope that was so close to burning out.

Katsuki took him from Kirishima. “C’mon. We’re going to go see your mom.”

“Mommy?!” Kazue perked up, gripping Katsuki tightly.

“Yes, but you have to be calm, okay?” The hallways were going by quickly. He didn’t even know if Kirishima was with them, nor did he care.

“Okay,” the pup brought his voice to a whisper, watched the hallway in front of them curiously.

When they got to Deku’s room, Katsuki didn’t even knock at the door. He walked right in, saw the omega startle, then saw his eyes go wide as Kazue chirped loudly.

“Mommy!” Kazue squirmed in Katsuki’s arms and Deku reached out, tears falling down his cheeks again.

“Kazue!” The omega learned forward, accepting the pup when Katsuki handed him over. He wrapped his arms around Kazue, pressed him to his chest as the pup immediately began crying, scenting and purring for him. “It’s all right, firecracker, it’s all right now. You’re okay. I’m okay. It’s all right.”

Whether Kazue heard his words or only his voice, the pup curled himself up on Deku’s chest, nestled into a space he fit perfectly. Katsuki had thought Kazue had slotted neatly onto his chest, along his neck. Now he knew, that wasn’t the case. The pup fit with Deku. He belonged with Deku.

And Katsuki?

One glance at the scene in front of him and he knew.

He didn’t have a place in this.

Slowly, so not to disturb them, the alpha stood. He yearned to stay, ached to wrap his arms around them, to clam them and promise them he would always keep them safe. But he knew a line when he saw one. He knew a dismissal as much as he knew an invitation. He knew what Deku withdrawing his hand meant, at its very basic level.

So he stood.

So he turned.

So he walked away.

The door shut behind him and he stood there for a moment, a burning hurt in his chest. His alpha brain howled for him to go back, to be with pup and omega. He shut that voice out, walked back down the hallway. Kirishima was nowhere to be seen, so Katsuki figured he’d find him in the waiting room.

A door banged open behind him, followed quickly by a distressed yelp from an omega.

Katsuki snapped around, found Kazue running toward him, heard Deku desperately calling the pup back.

Kazue grabbed his arm, tugged him toward the room, growling shortly when he didn’t move.

“Kaz—”

The pup growled, yanked impatiently at him.

“Kazue, listen—”

He yelped demandingly, clung to Katsuki when he tried to pull away.

Sighing deeply, Katsuki picked the pup back up, took him to Deku’s room. He found the omega halfway out of bed, grimacing from pain.

“Oi, lay back down. You need to rest.” Katsuki deposited Kazue back in Deku’s arms once the omega laid back down.

Deku shivered in relief, scented the pup, wrapped his arms tightly around him. Katsuki once again went to leave, but Kazue’s hand jerked out, grabbed him, held him still.

Katsuki sighed again, glanced at Deku. The omega met his gaze. Said nothing. But, he did nod to the seat next to him.

Katsuki knew an invitation. Just as much as he knew a dismissal.

Slowly, he sat down, relaxed as Deku turned his attention to caring for his pup, as Kazue curled himself up in the omega’s chest, purred comfortingly when Deku sniffled.

He sat and he watched and he said nothing.

He knew, despite everything, that this would be a moment he would cherish for the rest of his life.

- - -

Eventually, omega and pup curled up against one another and drifted into sleep. Deku seemed entirely relaxed with Kazue back in his arms and the pup was equally affected by the presence of his omega. Katsuki knew neither had been this happy since being rescued from the alpha.

Despite Kazue now being asleep, he kept his spot at their side, not wanting to wake the pup by leaving. He texted Kirishima, told him Deku was awake and well and reunited with his pup. The beta, in turn, must have told the entire pack because everyone else was soon texting him demanding updates and giving him congratulations, along with a few reprimands for being reckless. For the most part, Katsuki ignored these texts, though he did note a very curt one from Iida that simply said: Good news. We’ll discuss later.

While Deku and Kazue slept, Katsuki busied himself with checking the news. Articles had started popping up asking where he was, people wondering if Ground Zero was on a secret mission, some wondering if he’d been severely injured and was squirreled away somewhere recovering. Yaoyorozu had done some media management, telling them that he was simply taking some personal time, but it seemed like nobody was buying it. Ground Zero didn’t take “personal time.” It was well known what his aim was: to be the number one hero. You didn’t do that by taking “personal time.”

He stopped reading when he found an article quoting the current number one hero, a certain Mirio Togata, saying that taking personal time was a wonderful idea and that he respected Katsuki for doing so.

He grumbled and hissed and spat and immediately closed the article.

In general, Katsuki didn’t think of himself as a jealous person. Possessive, yes. Aggressive, certainly. But not jealous. However, seeing Togata’s name had something cruel and vile making his stomach twist.

Togata was the number one hero. He had a wonderful partnership with his mate, Tamaki Amajiki. They had three beautiful pups and that they cared for and loved. He’d always done everything right. He’d done no wrongs and he could do no wrongs. He was just about everything Katsuki wasn’t, and Katsuki hated him for it.

He had never really considered that he hated Togata until that moment. But he did. At least while reading that article, while thinking about just how much Togata had that he didn’t, he hated the other alpha.

But he refused to let himself dwell. Dwelling wasn’t going to change anything. He needed to do something, to act.

So, he got back on his phone, started researching the company Ito had told him Deku worked at.

He was busy making his way through Deku’s degree requirements, wondering how far along the omega was in the program, when there came a knock at the door.

Slowly, it opened, Tanaka peering inside. When he saw Deku and Kazue curled up sleeping, he smiled, closed the door behind him, nodded to Katsuki.

“I’m glad to see them doing well,” the doctor said.

Katsuki shrugged. “They just needed to be together.”

“Hmm,” Tanaka shifted, “well then, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we would like to keep Midoriya for a couple more days. Just to make sure he is stable and doing well since we don’t know what happened. Unfortunately, the pup won’t be able to stay.”

Katsuki lifted his lip in a silent growl, but he understood. Still, he wasn’t happy about the idea of separating omega and pup again.

“We’ll be back tomorrow.” He said as Tanaka approached the bed.

“Bright and early,” the doctor smiled, then reached for Deku.

Before he could touch the omega, Deku’s nostrils flared and his eyes shot open. He let out a horrible, piercing cry, something between a snarl and a shriek of fear, scrambling away from Tanaka’s hand, pressing Kazue tightly to his chest. Tanaka stepped quickly backward as Deku cowered against the head of his bed and snarled deeply at him.

“Easy, easy,” Katsuki reach forward, put himself between Tanaka and Deku. Upon seeing him, the omega’s eyes focused, then he blinked, blinked again. Slowly, very slowly, he began to relax, Kazue looking around in confusion and fear. “It’s all right, Deku. It’s just the doctor.”

Deku nodded once, then again. “S-sorry. Sorry. I just….” He shook his head, brushed the hair from Kazue’s face when his pup looked up at him.

“It’s quite all right,” Tanaka slowly came forward again, his steps more cautious than before. “I was just coming to wake you. We had some tests come back and we have a couple more we’d like to run.”

“Oh! Okay, right.” Deku shifted, seemed to realize very suddenly that Kazue was in his arms, staring down at the pup and the pup staring back up at him.

When the omega turned to Tanaka, the doctor smiled sadly. “I’m afraid visiting hours are over now.”

Deku’s face fell, dropped quickly into despair as he wrapped his arms around Kazue. Katsuki pitched forward, but reeled himself back in, taking in a deep breath through the mouth just in case the omega was putting off a distressed scent.

“Mommy?” Kazue whispered, staring up at Deku.

Deku blinked at the little pup, seemed more than a little lost.

Then, he smiled.

It was a familiar smile. A haunting one. Katsuki could place the exact moment he’d first seen the omega smile down at Kazue like that, just before he’d turned to face that bastard alpha in the alleyway. This time, Deku stroked Kazue’s face, pushed his hair back, leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“Kazue, listen very carefully to me, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“I need you to go with Katsuki for the night.”

Katsuki felt his stomach drop. The omega had used his name. His real name.

Kazue tilted his head, glanced at Katsuki. He seemed to have a question in his eyes that quickly snapped away as Deku lifted him up, tried to hand him away, and the pup struggled to stay at his chest. “No! No! No! Mommy, I want to stay with you!”

“I know, firecracker,” Deku drew the pup closer, shivering. Katsuki could feel pain radiating from the omega. He was half tempted to tell the doctor they would stay, no if ands or buts, however the omega gulped in a breath, settled himself. “You can come see me in the morning.”

Kazue stopped, stared up at him. “No, Mommy.”

“Bright and early. You’ll have to tell me all about the pack you’ve been staying with.”

The pup blinked. “Pack?”

“Sure. Katsuki’s pack. You’ve been staying with them, haven’t you?”

Kazue traced a pattern on Deku’s chest. He’d done the same to Katsuki not too long ago. “Yes, Mommy. There’s two pups.”

“Oh? What’s their names?”

“Takahiro and Fumiko.”

“Are they nice?”

Kazue thought about it, then shrugged. “Takahiro is littler. And Fumiko is bossy.”

Deku chuckled, shifted Kazue a little away from him, toward Katsuki. The pup didn’t seem to notice. “Do you have fun playing with them?”

“Yes!”

“Good, well then,” he suddenly lifted Kazue up, Katsuki realizing what he was doing and stepped in to take the pup, settling him on his chest. Kazue resisted, but Deku smiled at him, “you go have fun with them, okay? Tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“Mommy.” The pup whined and Deku shivered deeply.

“Good night, Kazue. I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The omega was doing his best to hold himself together. Katsuki could see the strain in his eyes, could practically feel the tension rising in the room.

Tanaka stepped closer to him, whispered, “It’s best if you just go.”

And maybe it was best. But it felt wrong.

“Go on, Katsuki,” Deku said, that name aching in the alpha’s bones. The omega was smiling, but he wasn’t actually smiling at anything. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Katsuki nodded, stepped away. “Bright and early.”

Deku smiled, closed his eyes. Katsuki had noticed the tears filling them up.

“No, Mommy!” Kazue reached for his omega, squirmed in Katsuki’s arms.

“C’mon, pup,” the alpha whispered, taking him from the room, closing the door as the pup began wailing. “It’s all right. We’ll see him tomorrow.”

“No!” Kazue pushed against Katsuki, did his best to try to get out of his grip. “I want my Mommy! I want my Mommy, now!”

Katsuki didn’t really know what to do. Because he couldn’t blame the pup. Of course he wanted his omega. He’d just been reunited with him after such a traumatic experience. To be torn away like this? It wasn’t fair. Katsuki wanted to turn around and put him back in Deku’s arms, to demand they let him stay the night. But this wasn’t a good place for Kazue. Especially if Deku was still getting tests done. The pup didn’t need to be there for that.

So he stepped quickly to the nurse’s station, gave his phone number and told the nurse on duty that if Deku wanted to contact him, that was the best way. Then, with the pup fighting and screaming and crying, Katsuki made his way back down the hallway.

It was the first time he’d seen Kazue have a meltdown. He’d seen them before, of course, with both Takahiro and Fumiko. It was a different experience to be the alpha whose pup was crying. It was a horrible noise. Grating in a way no other pup’s cries ever had been. He wanted to do anything to make it stop, to keep his pup from feeling the pain he was expressing. But for now, there was nothing to be done. They just had to go home.

When they reached the waiting room, Kirishima was standing, as if knowing they were there. But of course, he would know. No doubt he’d heard Kazue screaming from down the hall.

“Let’s go,” Katsuki said shortly.

Kirishima glanced him up and down. “Do you want me to take him?”

He held out his hands to Kazue, who shrieked loudly and curled up at Katsuki’s chest. “No no no no no no no!”

“All right, all right,” Katsuki rubbed Kazue’s back, sighed when he began crying for Deku again. “Let’s just go.”

- - -

On the way home, Kazue literally cried himself to sleep. By the time he did, Katsuki had a throbbing headache. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose to try to quell it, though having very little luck. Kirishima was oddly quiet beside him for the entire ride. Nothing was said between them, the silence unusual and awkward once the pup had fallen asleep.

Iida, who apparently had gone home earlier in the day, was waiting for them when they entered the packhouse. Katsuki had successfully pulled Kazue from his seat without waking him, but once they were inside the house and with most of the pack around and making noise, the pup began stirring. As soon as he did, he began crying again, starting off at a whine and slowly winding up to screaming for Deku again.

As soon as he did, all three omegas were there. Uraraka took Kazue without much of a fuss, just as she had done with the other pups many times before, pressing him to her scent gland and whispering comfortingly at him as Tsu and Jiro crowded around them, lending their presence and their scent. While the omegas cared for the crying pup, Katsuki immediately went to the medicine cabinet and knocked back several pain relievers, grumbling as he did so.

When he turned, Iida was standing in the doorframe.

“We should talk,” he said quietly.

Katsuki growled lowly. “What about?”

“Midoriya,” Iida fingered his glasses. “What are your intentions with him?”

It was a fair question, he knew. But it was still an annoying one.

Katsuki’s growl deepened and he shouldered past Iida, walking back toward the kitchen. “I want to keep him safe. That’s my only priority at the moment.”

“And anything else?”

Katsuki rounded on him, narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Iida shifted slightly, crossed his arms. “Midoriya is extremely traumatized, as well as Kazue. Now would not be a good time to try to impose yourself on him in any way—”

Something deep, something snarling and furious, had Katsuki pausing, had his mind racing to form coherent words.

Had he just—

Insinuated—

That Katsuki would—

Take advantage of Deku—

Like that?

Red colored his world.

Katsuki leaped forward, snapped at Iida’s throat. Instinct had Iida snarling back, holding his ground, the two alphas growling and snarling, a challenge rising between them.

At the sudden, sharp scent of two alphas facing off, the rest of the pack was immediately there, surrounding them. While the betas stayed back, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu carefully stepped forward.

“That’s enough you two! You’ll scare the pups!” The female alpha reprimanded.

Todoroki, likewise, nodded toward the staircase. “Bakugo, you’ll upset Kazue.”

At the mention of his pup, Katsuki snapped at Todoroki, who backed away, but looked quite displeased. Yayorozu took his place. “Enough,” she said. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Let me tell you something,” he let his voice carry low, looking past Yaoyorozu and Todoroki and everyone else, staring right at Iida. Iida had not backed down from Katsuki’s challenge, facing the other alpha with cold steel in his eyes. If needed, he would defend himself and his pack, even from one of their own. Katsuki knew that. He just didn’t care.

“Don’t you ever presume that I would do anything to hurt Deku. He means more to me than any one of you shitty extras. I would never hurt him.”

Iida met Katsuki’s snarling with a deep, piercing silence. He didn’t feel the need to growl back. He simply stood in defiance of the other alpha’s challenge. “You say that, and yet you’re the one who left him five years ago.”

Katsuki didn’t want to show how much his words hurt. But he couldn’t stop himself from falling silent, from tensing. He couldn’t argue. Iida was right. He said he’d never hurt Deku, but he’d abandoned him once already. After getting him pregnant, no less. Why would anyone think he wouldn’t just get what he wanted and do it again?

“Katsuki,” Iida said sharply, bringing his attention back, “it is our intention, as Kirishima said several days ago, to offer a place among us to both Midoriya and your pup, if that is what is necessary or wanted. Knowing that, I consider them part of my pack and under my protection as pack alpha. And I will not, let me repeat, will not just allow any harm of any kind befall my packmates. That means even from you.” Katsuki snarled, but Iida spoke over him, “Think about your intentions and if need be, reevaluate them. If Midoryia is to be an omega of my pack, then I will treat him as I do the others. No alphas will be permitted to prey upon him in any way. Any such infractions will be dealt with harshly. As you well know.” Katsuki’s snarl lowered to a growl as Iida’s glasses flashed. “Consider what I’ve said and take some time to think about what you intend to do now that we know he will survive. This very well may be the most important decision you make in your life.”

Slowly, the pack alpha stood, released a calming scent. Even Katsuki couldn’t stop himself from sagging forward, from falling into peace at the commanding scent of his pack alpha. Iida waited until he’d stopped growling, until he’d stopped challenging him, before turning and leaving. The rest of the pack watched him go, though ultimately, their eyes went back to Katsuki.

Katsuki straightened, bit down on a snarl, and stomped away. He didn’t really know where he wanted to go. All he knew was he didn’t want to be there.

He found himself standing in the kitchen momentarily, but it felt cold and empty and he didn’t really want to be where any of the rest of the pack could find him. So he made his way upstairs, thought about trying to find Kazue, but knew he was better off with the omegas for now.

Growling under his breath, he instead went to the bathroom, stripping off his clothes and stepping into the shower, running the water cold.

Standing under the freezing water, he stilled, let his blood calm from its boil.

Thought about what Iida had said. What his intentions were with Deku.

What he did want? At the very base level, to see Deku safe and happy.

But… did he want more?

And the answer, of course, was yes. Yes, he wanted Deku. He’d never stopped wanting Deku. Somewhere along the way, he’d just fooled himself into thinking he didn’t want Deku as much as he wanted to be the number one hero.

How much did that really matter anymore? Yes, he still wanted to be number one. And if Togata of all people could do it, then surely he could too. He could do it even better than that loser.

And he’d do it with Deku at his side. He’d make sure Deku was safe and happy first, yes, but then, maybe he did want to have the omega. To please him and be with him. Forever.

The thought made his heart swell and his alpha brain growl contently. He knew it wasn’t going to be that simple though. He could still feel the burn of the omega pulling his hand out of his. After all that had happened, he needed time.

Katsuki could afford time. He’d give him as much time as he needed. But he’d be there. For however long it took, he’d be there.

With one last growl, Katsuki snapped the water off, shook out his hair, stepped out of the shower.

Resolved himself to what he wanted, decided in that moment to something that he would work toward from now until he achieved it.

He would see Deku happy. He would see Deku safe.

And, if Deku would have him, he’d see the omega as his. That was his promise.

Chapter Text

Aizawa had never looked so tired before.

Katsuki and the rest of his class stood in silence before their teacher, nobody willing to look at each other. Even amongst so many of their peers, they were each alone in that moment, utterly impotent and terrified. Very few had the resolve to meet their teacher’s gaze. Even fewer dared to hold it for any length of time.

Yet Katsuki couldn’t seem to look away. He kept searching the pro hero’s face, though for what, he wasn’t sure.

It all had to be a nightmare, right? A trick? Some stupid media stunt?

Of course, all of that was complete crap and Katsuki knew it. No matter how much he stared into Aizawa’s eyes, he wasn’t going to find a different answer.

This was now the world they inhabited. This was the world they were entering. This was their reality, from now until the day they died.

As everyone stood in shocked silence before him, Aizawa slipped his hands into his pockets, passed a glance over each of his students, seem to tally them up, again, one more time, then perhaps once more, just to confirm it to himself.

“I’m sure you all have heard the news, so I won’t bore you with the details,” he drawled on, as if this were just any normal day. “All you need to know is the situation is under control and you’ve been requested to return to U.A.”

“Under control?!” Katsuki didn’t even know who spoke, could hardly hear them over Aizawa’s words repeating again and again in his head. “You can’t be serious!”

Aizawa pinned the student with a harsh look. “I’m always serious. And in any case, it doesn’t change the fact that all of you are to return to the school immediately.”

“Because it’s too dangerous for us now,” someone said somewhere behind Katsuki.

Aizawa shook his head. “No. Because the situation is under control and there’s nothing any of you can do here. It’s better if you all leave so not to get in the way.”

Nobody said anything more. Nobody moved. One more time, Aizawa scanned them all, worn, red eyes lingering briefly on each of them. Katsuki felt his arms aching when his teacher’s gaze swept over him, feeling as if the pro hero were cataloguing each of his injuries, taking note of the way his hands shook or the cut along his cheek, the blood running down his shoulder.

After the silence went on for much too long, Aizawa dipped his chin down, buried his mouth in his scarf. He sighed deeply. “There was always a problem with having a singular symbol,” he said quietly, and there was something harsh in his words. Something that had Katsuki bristling, something that made him want to rage and tell Aizawa how dare he say this now, but when his teacher continued, he listened, very intently, “After all, if you pin all your hope and dreams on one idea, on one vision, on one person, it’s bound to fail eventually. It’s simply illogical to put so much time and effort into developing something that, at the end of the day, is so fragile.”

“Please stop, Mr. Aizawa,” a voice that shook and sniffled said. “You’re being cruel.”

“I’m being pragmatic.” There came a hard line to their teacher’s voice, one each of them knew well. This was not the first time Aizawa had spoken to them like this, nor was it bound to be the last. But Katsuki knew it would be the most memorable. “This was an inevitability that nobody wanted to face. Now that it’s here, we pro heroes, unfortunately, aren’t the ones who have to live with the consequences.” He raised his chin, stared out at his students, the young heroes he’d been grooming for so long now.

“You are the ones who have the bear this burden now.”

It didn’t seem possible for there to be anything else that could shock them. Yet each student recoiled from his words, perhaps not believing him, perhaps not understanding. Katsuki both believed and understood Aizawa’s words, but the full weight of them pressed down on his shoulders, made him stagger, made his knees tremble threateningly. It took all his strength to remain standing, to face his teacher as the old, tired pro hero look out among his students.

“In the end, the new heroes will be the ones who will have to pick up the slack. Each of you will have to become a symbol in your own right. It’s unlikely we will ever be able to claim a singular Symbol of Peace again,” the hero paused, seemed to sag. Katsuki had always thought he looked so tired, so worn. In that moment, just how much of a toll everything had taken on him was more than apparent. He’d never looked weak. And in that moment, he still didn’t look weak. But it wouldn’t have surprised any of them if he’d fallen off his feet.

However, Aizawa regained himself, seemed to look past the students, to something beyond them, to something they wouldn’t have been able to see even if they looked. “The future of this world is laying in your hands now. We can no longer afford to go easy on any of you. The world is different now. It’s never going to be the same. You students are going to be the pioneers for that world. All I can do is help you be prepared for whatever you may face.” There was a resignation in his words, in his voice, that had Katsuki swaying. Someone beside him fell to their knees, someone else sobbed.

But he refused to show weakness.

He couldn’t afford to do that.

Not now.

Aizawa looked out over the students, closed his eyes, found a moment of rest. “Your orders are to return to U.A. Get some sleep. And be prepared. As soon as classes start, the other teachers and I are going to put you through hell. There’s still a lot you have to learn and we’re quickly running out of time.” He paused, glanced at the students.

Then, he grinned.

It was strange to see. Out of place after all that had happened, all that he had said. But it caught everyone’s attention, had everyone holding their breath, waiting to see what else he had to say.

When Aizawa grinned, everyone waited, and when their teacher spoke, everyone listened, “You’ve all now seen what it means to be a hero. Prove to me that you can be a hero. Otherwise, what have you been doing all this time? What have you been training for?” Some students glanced around, perhaps looking for reassurance. Katsuki still found he couldn’t move, found himself shivering as Aizawa’s gaze fell to him. “You’ve been training for almost two years now. You’ve still got some time and a long way to go. So we will push you. We will push you to your absolute limits, then beyond them. And it’ll be hell. It’ll be nothing like what you’ve been through as of yet. And at the end of it, you’ll all be real heroes.” His grin widened. “That’s what you all wanted, isn’t it? To be heroes? Well now’s your chance. The world has given you a challenge. How will you respond to it? Will you back down? Or will you stand up to it?”

The more he spoke, the more the students around Katsuki looked up. The more they listened and the more they stilled and the more they silenced, drawn to what their teacher’s words. Slowly, everyone picked themselves up, seemed to grow taller as he went on and on, until they were casting a shadow longer than anything Katsuki had ever seen before.

And Katsuki?

He stood and he stared and he didn’t grow taller.

He remained right where he was, weak and small and pathetic.

When Aizawa grinned, it was with a knowledge that he wouldn’t cut it, that he wasn’t enough, that he’d never be enough.

That he would never be able to reach for that challenge.

“Now is your time,” Aizawa said, and Katsuki finally felt his knees buckle, as the other students rose up around him, as Aizawa towered so much taller than he could ever hope to be, “It’s time for you to go beyond, to be plus ultra. And if you aren’t prepared to do that, then you’d better leave now.”

Katsuki tried to breathe, gasped, and very suddenly opened his eyes.

He was staring up at the ceiling, the room around him dark, though familiar. A lingering scent in the air kept him calm, despite his heart still racing from the dream.

Kazue was curled up in his nest as far away from Katsuki as he could get. It still hurt a little when the alpha glanced over at him, though he was happy to see the pup settled for the night. It had been ridiculous earlier trying to get him to lay down and go to sleep, having to promise again and again that yes, they were going to go see Deku tomorrow and yes, the omega would still be awake when they saw him. The pup didn’t seem certain, but in the end, his own exhaustion had gotten the better of him and he’d finally slipped into sleep. Once he had, Katsuki had laid down as well, trying to convince himself that he needed sleep just as much as the pup did. In the end, he simply stared up at that same ceiling wrestling with his own thoughts, until he, too, found uneasy sleep.

That sleep had led him to his dream, or rather his memory, of that night. The night everything had changed.

It wasn’t a night Katsuki liked to remember. In fact, what he remembered most of that night was the ride back to U.A. He remembered calling Deku, hearing the omega beg for him to tell him that he was okay, that what he’d seen on the news wasn’t true. Katsuki remembered telling him that he wasn’t hurt badly, but that what he had seen was true.

That the Symbol of Peace was gone. That he wasn’t coming back.

He remembered that conversation, remembered having to listen to the omega cry, remembered for the first time feeling nothing at the sound of Deku’s distress. He didn’t remember much else. Mostly because he didn’t want to remember much else. Deku’s crying seemed the least offensive part of the night. Ironically enough, Katsuki had laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling that night much like he had this night, waiting for sleep to take him.

He laid for several moments, resolved himself to getting up, grabbed for the clock. Five in the morning. Only people who would be awake would be anyone getting ready to go out on patrol. Them, and maybe one more person.

Careful not to wake Kazue, Katsuki got up, threw on comfortable clothes, stepped out of the room.

The entire top floor of the packhouse included a huge gym, perfect for any hero of any kind to keep their skills and body sharp, large enough for most of the pack to participate in group workout sessions, to work off each other and support each other. It wasn’t uncommon for the betas to all work out or spar together, causing enough of a commotion to shake the entire house. Katsuki hardly ever participated in group session, preferring to focus on himself, on his routines. The only exceptions he made were sparring sessions, testing himself against the innovations of his packmates, relishing the feeling of them having improved and figuring out how to best their new strategies. But that was normally the extent of his participation.

Normally.

It was not a surprise to Katuski to walk into the room and find Todoroki sitting in the middle of a mat, head down, eyes closed, as serene as the alpha ever was. He didn’t react when Katsuki approached, not until the alpha growled, “Hey, Icyhot. Spot me.”

It was, admittedly, an unusual enough request that Todoroki opened his eyes, looking after Katsuki as he walked over to the supply closet, drawing out wraps for his hands. While he wrapped his fists, the other alpha slowly unwound from where he had been sitting, followed him over to one of the punching bags. When Katsuki sunk into a fighting stance, he braced the bag, staying silent as the alpha began his routine.

They were quiet, the only noise the satisfying impact of Katsuki’s fists against the bag, the occasional grunt or growl from the alpha.

Toward the end of the routine, Todoroki peered at him from around the bag. “Going to explain why you needed me here?’

Katsuki threw one final punch, the impact sending Todoroki leaning into his heels. He growled, wiped at his forehead. “Get the mitts.” Todoroki considered him, but again, didn’t speak when Katsuki turned away.

The other alpha donned punching mitts as Katsuki rubbed himself down with a towel. In the quiet moment, his mind began to race again, turning back to his dream, his memory, his current situation.

With a growl, he grabbed his watch, checked the time. He’d have to wake Kazue eventually or have one of the betas or omegas get him up. After what had happened last night, he didn’t want the pup woken by anyone else, so he’d have to keep track of the time, make sure he didn’t let the pup wake to an empty room.

He tossed his watch aside, faced Todoroki. The other alpha was watching him. Katsuki paused, wondered if he actually did have anything to say to him.

He crossed the room, sunk into his stance, Todoroki doing the same. When the alpha presented his hand, Katsuki jabbed forward, keeping up as Todoroki dipped and dodged, focused on the targets in front of him, not the world around him.

Eventually though, they fell into an easy pattern and his mind wandered, thought of Deku, alone, afraid, sitting with his own thoughts of what had happened to him.

Katsuki jabbed forward, into empty air, missing the target completely. Todoroki paused as he stumbled slightly, eyebrows raising. But he said nothing, presented his hand when Katsuki repositioned himself.

They went on for a few more rotations. Then, Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Aren’t going to yell at me or question my intentions?”

Todoroki considered him, dodged around before presenting another target. “I thought Iida did a fair job of expressing any concerns the pack may have. We remember what you were like in school.” He paused, long enough to throw off the rhythm of their session. Katsuki met his eyes, tried to discern exactly what he might be thinking. “We also remember what you were like after graduation.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes, swayed his fists until Todoroki gave him a target.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he growled.

Todoroki gave no reaction, went on with their session. Katsuki was grateful for the silence.

Some time later, when Katsuki was panting heavily, Todoroki rose out of his stance. “That’s enough. You need some water.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, but went over to his things, checked his watch. Only time for one more session. The other alpha followed him, took a drink from his own water bottle. Katsuki didn’t miss when he glanced in his direction.

“Bakugo, we are on your side, you know. Even Iida. We’re just concerned. It’s a complicated situation.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Katsuki growled. He took another drink, bit down on a snarl. “Believe it or not, Deku’s precious to me. Always has been. Even through all the bullshit.”

Todoroki screwed the cap on his water bottle, tightened it methodically, set it down. “I understand, you know.” He said, just as measuredly. “It’s difficult loving someone in our line of work. You worry about leaving them alone. You worry about hurting them. You worry about how your work will affect them.” He tried to catch Katsuki’s gaze, but the alpha pointedly ignored him. “It’s different for Momo and I. She’s a hero. But she’s also another alpha. I’ve never loved an omega, but from what I know, they’re more sensitive to being affected by the stress and emotions of their mate.” Katsuki scoffed, threw his water bottle aside, wiped at his forehead, did anything to show he wasn’t listening. Todoroki didn’t seem to notice. “Is that what you’re so worried about?”

Katsuki snapped his jaws. “Don’t assume Deku’s weak. Deku is the strongest omega I’ve ever known. Our packmates included.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” Todoroki didn’t flinch when Katsuki growled at his question, when he tried to walk away, though the other alpha didn’t try to follow. “Bakugo, why did you want me to spot you?”

“Because,” Katsuki snarled, “it’s the closest I can come to beating the crap out of you without breaking pack rules. C’mon! I only have time for one more session.”

Todoroki considered him, didn’t move. “If that’s the case, you should come meditate with me. It’ll be good for you.”

Katsuki growled sharply. “Pass.”

“So are you afraid of your own thoughts then?”

The alpha snapped his jaws. “Presumptuous of you.” He tossed a rubber knife to Todoroki. “I’ve been too busy to get in a good workout. Have to stay at the top of my game. So shut up and come at me already!”

Todoroki turned the knife over in his hand, then tossed it back. “Momo’s on patrol. I have to get ready to get Takahiro up. You can cool down by yourself, right?” And with that, the other alpha picked up his things, left without another word.

Katsuki watched him go, threw the knife aside. He went to the weight machines, began his normal routine. Within five minutes, his min was wandering dangerously.

He stopped, cursed himself. Then, he got up.

He stretched briefly, poured water over his hair, shook it out. Checked the time. Picked up his phone, looked for any messages that might have been from the hospital. Grabbed his stuff, and went to the bathroom.

- - -

Kazue was still sleeping when Katsuki returned. He took advantage of the pup’s quiet to dress, found himself looking into the mirror, running his fingers through his hair. Then, he went over to the pup, carefully picked him up from his nest. Kazue stirred, began to whine until the alpha released some of his scent, then the pup calmed dramatically, settled on his chest.

Katsuki took him down to the main level and straight into the kitchen. Tsu was at the counter, standing over a running pot of coffee.

“Good morning,” she chirped.

Katsuki growled, until Kazue grunted shortly, put a hand over the alpha’s mouth.

“Shh,” he muttered. “No growling, Kacchan.”

Tsu put a finger to her lips. “Even your pup knows that’s a bad habit of yours.”

If there wasn’t a little hand still pressed to his mouth, he would have growled again.

As Kazue dozed on his chest, Katsuki got out the eggs, rice, everything he needed to make a quick breakfast. It was a bit of a challenge with only the use of one hand, but Tsu wordlessly came over and helped him, bringing no attention to her actions. Katsuki ignored her, paying only enough attention to make sure they were cooking at about the same pace. The more time went on, the more the rest of the pack wandered downstairs, gathering sleepily in the kitchen doorframe. Even Todoroki made a quick appearance to check in on them, though he left without a word. As the food came ready to eat, Kazue stirred more and more, watching Katsuki cook intently.

As the alpha stepped back to let the pack put everything onto serving trays, the pup buried himself into his scent gland, breathed in deeply.

“Mommy?”

“After breakfast,” Katsuki checked his watch again. Visiting hours were still a couple hours away. Even after breakfast, they’d have some time before they could see Deku. The pup whined and Katsuki rubbed his back. “We’ll go and see if they’ll let us see him a bit early. But you need to eat first.”

Kazue sighed deeply, but didn’t protest when the alpha sat him down and placed a plate in front of him.

The pack gathered in the dining room, slow murmuring escalating into cheerful chatter as everyone began waking up. Katsuki watched Kazue carefully, noted that the pup didn’t once glance to Todoroki, who was seated only a couple of places down the table.

Progress? Or was the pup just too focused on his food and his mom to notice?

Either way, Katsuki gave it no voice, ate his breakfast in peace. He passed a glance over those gathered, noticed Kirishima wasn’t there.

Must be out on patrol. He’d have to go to the hospital alone or he’d have to ask someone else to come with them. But he would be fine. He could face Deku alone. It would be okay.

Thoughts of Deku began filling up his mind, so he picked up on the conversation as people began talking about their plans for the day.

“Nobody need me today!” Kaminari proclaimed loudly. “I’m spending the day with Hitoshi, no if, ands, or buts!”

“What a shame,” Jiro deadpanned. “How am I going to charge my phone now?”

“Ha, ha,” Kaminari muttered into his bowl.

“Isn’t his heat coming up?” Shoji asked. “Will you two be spending it here again?”

Kaminari nodded. “It’s still a couple of weeks out, but yeah, when the time comes. He felt safe here. Better than just the two of us alone and out of it at his place.”

“Is he or is he not your mate? When is he just going to join already?” Sero muttered.

“If Iida was here, he’d say something about open invitations,” Jiro quipped.

“Aw, it’s not that bad,” Mina grinned, leaned back in her chair. “Besides, if everyone who had an invitation actually lived here, we’d need a bigger house!”

Tsu hummed. “Actually, that’s a good point. Are we going to have enough space here if Midoriya joins?”

Katsuki paused, sensed more than saw everyone turn to him.

At his name, Kazue perked up. “Join?” He muttered.

“Sure,” Tsu nodded. “Kirishima said you and your omega can join the—”

Katsuki growled sharply, silenced Tsu and everyone else at the table. He turned back to his breakfast. “We haven’t had that conversation yet. Deku’s going to be in the hospital for a couple more days.”

Kaminari chuckled. “Sounds like someone got rejected.”

A small spike of pain and anger flared to life. He pushed it down. “It’s not about me. It’s about whether he’ll want to be in a pack to begin with. Some people just don’t like that kind of environment. As you might know.” He growled the last part, had Kaminari frowning, though the beta said nothing else.

Kazue stared between them all, seemed to be thinking about something very hard. Before he could form something to say, Katsuki set his chopsticks down. “You done, Kaz? We should get going soon.”

“Yes!” The pup shoved his plate aside. “I’m done! Let’s go!”

Katsuki examined his plate, pointed to the half-eaten eggs. “Finish up. Then we’ll go.”

The pup snorted unhappily, shoveled the last of his food into his mouth, and pushed his plate aside again. “I’m done! Thank you for the food!”

Katsuki ruffled his hair. “Good pup. Clothes, wash your face, then we’ll go.” Kazue chirped in agreement, leaped off his seat, saying a quick goodbye to the pack before racing out of the room.

The pup rushed Katsuki through the last tasks asked of him, then tugged him along, drawing him closer and closer to the hospital. Closer to Deku. Closer to their second confrontation. As much as Katsuki wanted to see the omega again, he didn’t really know what to expect anymore. But he wasn’t one to run away. And he wasn’t one to deprive pup and omega of their comforting company.

So he let himself be dragged along without a word, never giving voice to the growing unease in his stomach.

- - -

The pack’s car was gone, for whatever reason, so Katsuki pulled on a hat, pushed sunglasses onto his face, and warned the pup not to tell anyone who he was. He carried Kazue to the train station, kept him closer during the ride down to the hospital. The pup seemed comfortable on the train, though Katsuki assumed that Deku must have used public transportation quite a bit. It was unlikely he owned a vehicle of any sort, so perhaps that pup was more comfortable in a train than even a car. He was grateful for that as he led Kazue along.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, they still had about twenty minutes before visiting hours, though the nurses allowed them to sit in the waiting room. Now that they were back in the hospital and with the promise of getting to see his omega soon, the pup was clam and much happier, chirping and giggling when the nurses paused to say hello.

Katsuki checked his watch, saw it was nearly time just as one of the nurses came into the waiting room, Kazue sitting up at the sight of her.

“Ms. Aoi!” He said, surprising the alpha.

The nurse smiled widely. “Hey Kazue! Welcome back!”

She crouched in front of the pup, who shied away, clung to Katsuki’s arm. “Needle again?” He whispered.

Aoi shook her head. “Not today. Would you like to play with me for a little while?”

“No! I want to see my Mom!”

Aoi giggled. “Heard, loud and clear! How about this? Would you like to see some of the tools the doctors use? Then we can go see your mom.”

Kazue’s eyes lit up and he blinked up at Katsuki, a question in the air. Katsuki, however, was eying Aoi carefully.

The nurse’s smile softened as she met his gaze. “Midoriya would like to speak with you privately.”

The alpha’s stomach dropped.

He tried not to think about that.

Instead, he nodded, handed Kazue over to Aoi, who took him by the hand and led him into the back and down a different hallway to the one that led to Deku. She nodded to Katsuki before turning away, giving him permission to go to the omega.

He took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, took the long walk down the hallway.

At Deku’s door, he knocked as he had the previous day. “Deku?” He said quietly, opening it and peering inside.

He found the omega laying on his side, back to the door. A few papers were scattered on his side table. One glance and Katsuki knew what they were.

After all, he could see his own signature at the bottom of paper stacked atop all the others.

Slowly, he stepped inside, closed the door. Stayed where he was. Waited for the omega to react. But he simply didn’t, to the point Katsuki wondered if he was asleep, knew he was once again going to have to brave the silence.

He took in a breath. “Deku—”

“Don’t!”

The omega snapped up, turned a snarl at the alpha, tears running freely down his face. He pointed a shivering finger at Katsuki. “Don’t. You dare. Call me that.”

Katsuki swallowed. Shuffled his feet. “Do you prefer Izuku or Midoriya?”

“Just shut up.” The omega snarled, coughed as he tried to stop himself from sobbing. He grabbed the paper, shoved it toward Katsuki. “What is this?” He paused, but Katsuki couldn’t find anything to say. “What is this?!”

“I… I just thought—”

“Thought what?” Deku threw the paper away, but it caught in the air, swung back toward the omega, Deku swatting it desperately away. He ran a hand through his hair, shook his head, gasped, laughed, though it wasn’t much of a laugh.

Katsuki breathed in again. “I didn’t think you would want to carry that… that bastard’s pup.”

Deku laughed again, sharp, bitter, a shiver going through his body. He turned away.

Paused.

Shook his head.

“I don’t know what I would have wanted. But you took that choice away from me. You made that choice for me when you didn’t have the right.”

“I just wanted to do right by you.”

“Oh!” Deku laughed again. “Do right by me? Now? After all this time? Is it convenient for you now?”

“No, it’s not—” he stopped when Deku waved his hand.

“Do you know what that procedure could do to me? Or did you just not care?”

Katsuki paused, thoughts racing back to the day he’d signed that damn paper. He didn’t get to think long before Deku growled deeply.

“It could make me infertile. And you signed off on it! You didn’t have that right! To take away my choice on my own body, on my future pups!”

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki tried to say, but Deku snarled over them.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” He collapsed back, looking more than a little exhausted. Katsuki shifted, not knowing if he should offer help, but the omega pinned him with a hateful look the moment he made a move. “You didn’t have the right. Just because you’re an alpha and I’m an omega? Just because we were together? That I had a pup with you? Did you think that gave you the right?”

Katsuki shook his head, again and again. “You’d already been through hell. I didn’t think you’d want a reminder—”

“A reminder!?” Deku raised his arms, looked around as if searching for something to break. “I don’t need a reminder, Katsuki! I know what happened! I’ll never forget what happened!”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not!” The omega made a frustrated noise, ran both hands along his face.

This time, Katsuki let there be some silence between them, let the omega sit and pant and think. Let himself stew upon the acidic words spat at his feet. The words he’d always known were coming, the words he still didn’t know how to face.

Then, when enough the silence grew unbearable, he said, “Yes, I am, Izuku.” Deku snarled at his name, but Katsuki pressed forward. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I’m sorry any of this happened at all.” He swallowed when Deku narrowed his eyes. “None of it should have happened.”

For once, the omega was quiet. So quiet, Katsuki felt pinpricks along his body.

Then, with a huff, he turned away. “You don’t understand anything.”

Katuski bit his lip. Thought about leaving.

Stayed.

Paused.

Then, “There’s something else. That you should know. And you should hear it from me.”

He waited, but the omega was silent for a long time. This time, Katsuki would not break the silence first. With a sigh, Deku eventually turned to face him, glaring expectantly. Katsuki clenched his hands, felt sweat gathering on his palms, wiped them nervously, saw that the omega noticed.

He didn’t move closer, but he did lower his voice, he did tilt his neck slightly in submission. And he told the omega about Mai and her Quirk.

He told him everything, about how it worked, about how he’d volunteered, about what he’d seen. The more he spoke, the more he saw Deku’s resolve breaking. It started as a wall, tall and unyielding, but slowly, brick by brick, word by word, it crumbled. When Katuski finished explaining about the bite to his wrist, the hope he’d override the alpha’s claim, Deku grabbed the offending limb, trembled slightly. He was no longer looking at Katsuki.

In the silence, there wasn’t anything to break the tension. Not the sound of a heart monitor. Or a ventilator. Not even a clock hung on the wall.

“You… saw it all?” The omega’s voice was small. So very small.

Katsuki shook his head. “Not completely. I saw what you saw. You were unconscious for a lot of it.”

The omega fell silent.

Slowly, he turned onto his side again, back to Katsuki, curled up around himself. “Just… go,” he whispered, begged.

Seeing, no, feeling the hurt from the omega, Katsuki didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay, to go nearer. To comfort and console him.

But he knew anything he did would just upset him further.

So he opened the door, stepped out.

There was one thing he knew he could do to help the omega. So he followed the hallways, had to ask a passing nurse for directions, eventually found himself standing in the doorframe of an exam room, watching Kazue playing with a stethoscope.

As soon as the pup saw him, he threw it back in Aoi’s hands, ran to the alpha, who picked him up.

“Mommy?” He asked.

Katsuki nodded. “Your mom needs you right now, okay Kazue? Make sure you give him lots of love.”

The pup gave a serene nod, as if he completely understood, though Katsuki knew he never would.

Numb, he took Kazue back down the hall, knocked at Deku’s door. When he opened it, it was to the omega sobbing, still curled up on his side. Kazue was strangely quiet as Katsuki crossed the room and set him on the bed, though he immediately clambered over Deku’s body, crawling into his arms and onto his scent gland.

“It’s okay, Mommy,” the pup whispered. “Everything will be okay. I’m here now. So it’s okay.”

Deku gave little reaction to the pup’s presence, other than to hold him close, to curl up a little more around him.

Katsuki waited just a moment, just to make sure pup and omega were together, right as they should be.

Then, he stepped out. Shut the door.

Hurried away before Kazue could realize he was gone.

Chapter Text

There was nothing to do in the waiting room, nor was there anything Katsuki particularly wanted to do. So he sat in the quiet and let the hospital continue to function around him, watching placidly as nurses and doctors and patients and visitors dipped in and out of the room, as the doors leading down the hallway to Deku and Kazue opened and closed over and over again.

His phone buzzed a few times in his pocket, but he didn’t move to check it. He didn’t really want to know what was going on in the world.

Instead, he leaned back, tilted his head against the chair. Stared up at the ceiling. Waited.

Eventually, a nurse came and told him visiting hours were going on break and that he would have to leave. The only good news was that Deku’s doctor had signed off on Kazue being allowed to stay for lunch, so long as he behaved himself. Grateful for that at least, Katsuki left without another word.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to do. Or rather, what he could do. He knew what he wanted. To ask Deku for forgiveness, to be allowed to protect him from that bastard alpha. But after what had just happened, he didn’t know how he was going to convince Deku to let him, to give him another chance.

Maybe he didn’t deserve one. Maybe this was karma coming for him finally. Maybe he was going to spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to the omega.

But if that was the case, then that was okay. He could accept that.

Once outside the hospital, he pulled out his phone, checked for the nearest flower shop. He doubted they were going to have what he was looking for. He’d always had to order them days in advance before. But maybe he’d get lucky. He needed some after everything that had happened.

Once he was on his way down the street, he flipped to his contacts, to a new number that he’d added only a couple of days earlier, in the dead of night when not even Kazue could see what he was doing.

He paused, staring down at the screen.

Then, he pressed the call button.

The dial tone was unusually loud, as was the voice that answered, “Yeah? What?”

“It’s Bakugo,” Katsuki bit into the side of his cheek, felt his nose wrinkling. “If the offer’s still on the table… I’ll take that cigarette now.”

- - -

Even after returning to the hospital, Katuski stayed in the waiting room, head tilted back, dozing off and on. The nurses more than once asked if he wanted them to tell Deku he was still there, but he shook his head, told them only that he was ready to take Kazue whenever he needed to leave for the day. It wasn’t worth interrupting the omega and pup’s time together after being apart for so long. He didn’t mind sitting there, waiting, just in case he was needed. That was fine with him.

People came in and out of the waiting room, though they gave Katsuki a wide breadth, either due to the sketchy nature of his hood drawn over his head, his sunglasses still in place, or because people tended to just sense danger from him. So when someone came to sit directly next to him, he noticed, tilted his head down to see who it was.

He was more than a little surprised to find it was Kirishima.

The beta smiled widely. “Hey man! Were you actually sleeping just now?”

Katsuki glared at him. “The hell are you doing here?”

“Just got back from patrol,” Kirishima sighed, leaned back, stretched out his legs. “Hell of a day. But I figured you might need some backup, plus I brought the car. Didn’t know how Kazue had done on the train.”

“He was fine.” The alpha leaned back, stared up at the ceiling. “Deku kicked me out.”

“Really?” He had the balls to sound surprised.

“Yeah. I messed up. Big time. And he let me know it.”

The beta laughed. “Sounds like one manly omega. Not surprised he’s the one who’s caught your eye.” He grinned. “When am I going to get to meet him?”

“At this rate? Maybe never.”

“Aww, don’t say that!” Kirishima elbowed Katsuki in the side, earning a low growl from the alpha. “Listen, it’s been, what, a day since he woke up? He needs some time. Just let him process everything that’s happened. Can’t be easy on the poor guy.”

At the beta’s words, Katsuki paused, lifted his head. It was true that even if it had been several days for him, Deku had just woken a little over twenty-four hours previously. It was a lot to take in, a lot to adjust to, a lot to live through. That, on top of the fact that he wasn’t fully healed yet. No doubt he was still feeling physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. He was still trying to catch up to the world while also trying to give himself the time he needed to heal. That couldn’t be easy, and Katsuki knew it. He’d been in that situation before, had woken up in a hospital bed missing hours and days of his life, had had to reorient himself back into life. Nothing he’d been through could ever reach the level Deku was experiencing though. He knew that, if nothing else.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he and the omega hadn’t even had the chance to have a normal conversation. They hadn’t had the chance to catch up, to address the past. Everything in their present was so pressing, there had simply been no time or room to consider anything beyond it.

Katsuki hadn’t had the chance to ask Deku about Kazue. How he’d been when he was an infant, what his birthday was, what it had been like bringing him into the world.

He hadn’t had a chance to thank Deku for the gift of something so beautiful and precious.

He didn’t even know if Deku would accept such words from him.

But he wanted the chance to say them. Them, and so many others. He hadn’t had the chance to formerly reunite with the omega. At this point, he didn’t know if that would ever be possible.

Kirishima laughed beside him, Katsuki cutting him a glare. “You’re thinking mighty hard over there. Anything you want to share?”

The alpha snorted. “Not on your life.”

Kirishima chuckled, shifted a bit closer to him. “How’d you sleep last night?” Katsuki’s scowl earned another laugh. “Lay back, take a nap. If Midoriya kicked you out, I doubt he’ll be calling you back anytime soon. And if anything happens, I’ll wake you.”

Katsuki growled. “Alphas don’t sleep in public.”

The beta shrugged, “Since when do you care what people say about what alphas do or don’t do?”

As much as he wanted to argue with Kirishima, he couldn’t. If nothing else, he could at least go back to dozing off and on, knowing the beta was there to keep an eye on things. Kirishima had already taken out his phone and was scrolling through some sort of social media, giving him the out to do as he wanted without the expectation of having to continue interacting with him. The beta knew he needed a break and he was more than happy to provide it, whether Katsuki wanted it or not.

If nothing else, he was tired and he could use a moment to breathe.

He leaned back, sighed, closed his eyes. Thought of Deku. Thought of Kazue. Wondered what they were like outside the trauma, the heartache, the hurt. Wondered if he really knew anything about them at all.

- - -

There was a heavy knock at the door, followed by a voice. “Bakugo? Hey, you in there? It’s me! Kirishima!” A pause. “You know? Eijiro Kirishima? From school? U.A.? Hello?”

Katsuki stirred as if from a great sleep. His joints creaked. His muscles ached. His bones rattled. It was almost too difficult to move. Like stone rising from the mountainside. But the voice continued, as did the relentless pounding at his door, incessant, even as the calls went unanswered. The noise beat against his skull, another pain to tally along his body.

He got to the door, tried to grab the doorknob, couldn’t get his fingers around it. Flinched and growled when his hands shook and ached and throbbed and hurt.

A pause from beyond the door. “Bakugo? You all right in there?”

Katsuki growled, tried for the door again, rattled it uselessly, hissed, had to use both hands to finally get it open, to crack it, to peer out with slitted eyes.

Katsuki would have recognized the beta’s face anywhere. What he had a little more trouble with was the sudden shift in his expression, starting with a smile that fell quickly away.

“Bakugo?” He sounded like he hardly believed it.

Katsuki growled in warning. “What do you want, shitty hair?”

It was a familiar name, something that warmed Katsuki from a small ember he thought had died months ago. However it effected the alpha, Kirishima gave no reaction to it.

Instead, he leaned closer, tried to force the door open. “What’s happened to you? Let me in!”

“No,” Katsuki snarled and snapped at his hands. “Go away.”

“C’mon. You’re not looking well. Just let me make sure you’re okay!”

“Why?” The alpha rose up in a challenge, knew that it was enough to scare off most betas.

Kirishima, however, just threw his hands up in frustration. “Because you look like crap! C’mon, let me in already! You’re freaking me out, man!”

There didn’t seem to be a choice in the matter. Either Katsuki let the beta in or he would break down the door to get to the alpha. That was certain, if Katsuki remembered anything from their friendship in school. And he really didn’t want to get a new door. That would be a pain in the ass on top of having to deal with the pain in the ass in front of him.

So he glared, snapped at the beta, but opened the door slightly, stepped away. Kirishima slipped inside before he could change his mind, glanced around the apartment.

“Oh man,” the beta sighed, “you used to have one of the tidier rooms in the dorm.”

Katsuki kicked an empty can aside. “You got a problem with it?”

Instead of answering, Kirishima bent, picked up the can. Showed it to him. “This from today?” Katsuki growled lowly. “You can’t be serious, man. You know alcohol mixes badly with your Quirk!”

“Who cares?” Katsuki flopped onto the couch. Didn’t look at the beta. “Well? What did you want?”

Kirishiam was quiet. Even still, Katsuki didn’t look over at him. Not until the beta approached, until he crouched next to him, until he tried to take his hand. Before he could help it, pain had him yelping, pulling away from the touch, snarling to hide his moment of weakness.

Kirishima frowned. “I knew it was bad, but c’mon man.” He grabbed Katsuki’s hand again, ignored his snarls, turned it over to reveal the fresh welts along his palm. The beta frowned deeply. “What’s happened to you?”

In a time not so long ago, Katsuki would have had words for him. He would have had an explanation. But it didn’t seem worth the effort anymore. So he said nothing.

When the silence grew, Kirishima let him go. Sat at his side. Tilted his head slightly, exposing his neck and his scent gland. The show of submission had Katsuki pausing, hesitating long enough for the beta to release a little more of his scent. Immediately, the scent washed over him like a fresh breeze after being in stagnant air for so long. He remembered Kirishima’s scent well, but somehow, it was different from what he remembered. The smell of the beta had Katsuki salivating, shaking with a craving for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

So caught up in the smell of his school friend that he listened when Kirishima smiled at him, when he said, “Bakugo, please let me take care of you for today.” A part of the alpha recoiled, snarled. The more dominate part of him paused, was perhaps confused by the offer. “Please trust me. You need some backup, man. And you know I’ll always have your back when you need me most.”

It was difficult to say yes. But it would be more difficult to say no. And honestly, he didn’t really know what he wanted.

So he sat there, didn’t react as the beta took his hand, pulled him off the couch, took him to the sink to begin cleaning up his palms.

- - -

A hand on his shoulder jolted Katuski immediately awake.

He was completely still, trying to reorient himself, until a small bundle was placed on his chest. Kazue glared up at Katsuki with those wide red eyes of his, a little pout on his lips.

“Kacchan,” there was an accusation in his tone that had Katsuki tensing, “you left us.”

He didn’t move.

He didn’t even breathe.

Eventually, the pup crossed his arms in a huff. “Why didn’t you sit with us? I had to make Mommy stop crying aaaaall by myself.”

Oh. That’s what he meant.

Katsuki ruffled the pup’s hair. “I think you’re the best one for that job, Kaz.” He shifted, sat up, kept the pup close to his chest. Kazue seemed calm, despite being away from his omega.

He smelled strongly of Deku.

“How was your day?”

Kazue tilted his head from side to side. “Good! Ms. Sano came and saw us!”

Ms. Sano?

The name sent a chill over Katsuki’s back. He remembered that name very clearly from Deku’s memories. She had been in the hospital? Had potentially walked right by him? And he hadn’t even noticed?

Katsuki glanced to Kirishima, but the beta was still on his phone. The alpha checked his watch. Just about closing time. They needed to get home for dinner. He elbowed the beta, caught his attention as he stood, making his way back toward the door.

“Who is Ms. Sano?”

Kazue shrugged. “My friend! I go to her house sometimes and play with some other pups! We learn about lots of different things and get to play a bunch of games and have a lot of fun!”

Sounded like some sort of daycare. No doubt between working, his school, and trying to raise Kazue alone, Deku had needed the time to himself. Plus, daycares often offered overnight services for single omegas to watch their pups while they are in heat. It only made sense that he’d have found someone to help look after Kazue every now and then.

Katsuki wished he’d known she was there. He would have liked to speak with her, to learn more about the omega and pup.

But maybe that would have been too far.

Where was the line? He knew there was one, and he knew he had crossed it many times before, but he still wasn’t exactly sure where it was. He didn’t want to go over that line anymore, nor did he think it would be smart to toe it either. If he wanted to try to convince Deku to consider forgiving him, then he’d have to be on his best behavior. So maybe it was better that he hadn’t known she was there. Maybe it was better that he hadn’t had any temptations to give into.

“Well I’m glad you got to see her.” Katsuki muttered, following Kirishima into the parking lot. The beta was unusually quiet, but he seemed in good spirits. Something about him was putting the alpha on edge though. He just didn’t know why.

Kazue nodded enthusiastically. “I told her all about Takahiro and Fumiko and you and Kiri and the pack and everything.” He made an exhaustive gesture, as if it had been far too much to get into.

Katsuki felt a prickle of unease at the thought of this Sano knowing about him and his pack, wondered what the pup had said, realized he had probably talked about all of this in front of Deku too. What would the omega think of everything his pup had been through while he was asleep?

Maybe it wasn’t worth dwelling on. He couldn’t let himself worry over what the omega was thinking or doing if he wanted to put enough time and effort into caring for Kazue as the pup needed. So, at least for the time being, he put it from his mind, helped strap Kazue into the car while Kirishima slid into the driver’s seat.

When Katsuki joined him in the passenger’s seat, the beta chuckled. “Sero said you went off on Tsu about asking after Midoriya and the pack.”

Katsuki growled lowly, glanced to Kazue from the rearview mirror. The pup had perked up curiously. “That’s a conversation for another time.”

“And another person.”

The alpha paused, thought over Kirishima’s words, but couldn’t figure out what he was getting at. When he turned a questioning look to the beta, Kirishima only smiled.

“Don’t worry about that. That’s my job as head beta. When the time comes, I’ll let him know his options. After all, it isn’t just about joining up. It’s about protection. That guy’s still out there, right? Who knows what his intentions are.”

It was a bit of juggle to move around his words, though Katsuki appreciated that the beta wasn’t speaking so straightforward in front of Kazue. This wasn’t for him to hear, wasn’t for him to know.

But the words themselves were a question mark to Katsuki. Yes, in most circumstances, the head beta of a pack would be the one to officially invite someone to join after receiving the blessing of the pack alpha. But this wasn’t a typical case. Deku was his problem, not the pack’s. This was his to handle.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Kirishima spoke softly, even when Katsuki cut him a short growl. “But this is our choice, not yours. Yeah, you might be a key factor in it, but ultimately, this is the pack deciding what we want to do. So let me handle it. Besides,” the beta grinned, “we do want at least the possibility of him saying yes. If he’s already kicked you out of his hospital room, I doubt he’ll be chomping at the bit to live in the same house.”

“Ha ha,” Katsuki growled, at the same time Kazue made a chirping noise.

“Mommy is going to come live with us at the packhouse?”

Katsuki bit down on a growl just as Kirishima laughed. “Hey, what was your place like with your omega? Do you miss it?”

The pup paused, long and hard. Then, he hummed. “It was fine. As long as Mommy is there, it’s fine.”

“Did you have any friends?”

As the beta slipped carefully into conversation with the pup, Katsuki let himself relaxed. Kirishima really had always been good with pups. He was thankful for the backup that day.

- - -

“I need a favor.”

Mina raised her eyebrows and blinked at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Bakugo?” Katsuki snarled at her, but she only laughed. “Oh, it really is you after all! What’s up, babe?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Aww, c’mon! It’s just an expression. A cute little name!” Katsuki growled again as Mina folded her hands behind her head. “All right, tell me what you need!”

“Kirishima’s going on patrol early in the morning and won’t be around until later.”

“Yup! Already know that!”

“I need you to bring Kazue to the hospital for visiting hours. Just after ten, to be exact.”

Mina paused, as did every other pack member in the vicinity. The only one who didn’t seem to mind was Todoroki, the alpha stroking a hand along his mate’s thigh while nose deep in a book.

“Uh. Say again? You want me to bring Kazue to the hospital?” Mina said.

“You aren’t going to go visit Midoriya?” Tsu asked at the same time.

“Okay, you really aren’t Bakugo, right?” Kaminari said.

A few others tried to speak, but Katsuki focused only on Mina, nodding once. “Got something to take care of. I’ll be there when you get there, just make sure Kazue’s there to see his mom as early as he can be.”

For a moment, the female beta rocked back and forth, twisting her body around as if to examine him from as many different angles as possible. Katsuki let his lip raise in a silent snarl before she loudly exclaimed, “You got it, babe!”

“I said, don’t call me that. Also, if any harm comes to my pup, I’ll kill you.”

“Oi, hey!” Kirishima stirred from the couch, though he only made a half-hearted attempt to rise. “Don’t go threatening her, man!”

Mina, however, was laughing. “Aw, c’mon! We’re packmates! It just means I’ve got your back!” She gave him a thumb’s up. “Don’t you worry about a thing! I’ll take care of Kazue, no problem. You just do what you gotta do!”

“Thanks.” He turned and walked away, going to where the three pups were playing with Shoji and Kaminari.

Fumiko and Takahiro were climbing over Kaminari, Takahiro tugging at a sizable chunk of his hair while Fumiko was pointing and laughing and Kaminari was asking, quite desperately, for some help getting the pup off of him. Kazue was watching the three serenely, eyes half lidded, curled up in Shoji’s lap. When he saw Katsuki, he blinked up at the alpha, but didn’t reach for him, content in the beta’s arms.

“Kaz, Mina is going to take you to the hospital tomorrow. I have something to do beforehand. I’ll see you when you get to the hospital.” He paused. “Is that okay?”

The pup tilted his head, rubbed his cheek against Shoji’s arm.

“Hey, Bakugo! A little help!” Kaminari whined.

Katsuki ignored him, though Kazue gave him a strange look before turning his attention back to the alpha. He rubbed his eyes, snorted shortly. “Kacchan.” He held out his hand.

“Yes?”

The pup whined sharply. “Kacchan!”

“What?”

He flailed his arms at Katsuki and whined until the alpha sighed deeply and crouched, taking the pup when he crawled out of Shoji’s arms.

“Kacchan.”

“What is it?”

The pup crawled up to his neck and rubbed at his scent gland. “Smell nice.”

Katsuki sighed. “Yup. Hasn’t changed since I met you.”

Kazue said nothing else, simply curling up at his neck, settling deeply. Katsuki glanced to Shoji, who shrugged.

“He’s gotten used to your scent. Probably just needs some time with you.”

Used to my scent?

A shiver went over Katsuki as he pressed the pup to his chest, felt as Kazue rumbled out a satisfied purr in response.

He checked his watch. “Almost time for dinner, then bath, then bed.”

The pup squirmed. “Mommy?”

“Your omega’s still in the hospital.”

“When’s he going to come live with us?”

The room went very quiet. If he listened close enough, Katsuki was sure he wouldn’t even be able to hear the ducts in the house rattle. Everyone around them had stilled as if put under a spell, even the other pups, sensing the shift in the house, had gone silent. Only Kazue seemed unaffected, waiting for the alpha’s response.

There wasn’t an easy answer. Of all the things Katsuki could say, none of them explained everything. Because the pup simply couldn’t understand everything. Not now. Kirishima had dodged this question earlier, but it felt wrong just to do it again and for some reason, Katsuki didn’t think the pup would accept that from him anyway.

So he considered his words carefully, let off a little more of his scent to settle the pup just a bit more.

“In the end,” he said, one word at a time, “that’s going to be your mother’s choice. It might be better to go home with him, won’t it?”

Kazue grumbled lowly. “Mommy.”

“I know, pup, I know.” Katsuki glanced to his packmates, saw them all watching them.

He shifted Kazue higher on his body, breaking the pup’s contact with his neck as he turned toward the kitchen. Kazue crawled a little higher, tugging at the alpha’s hair as he tried to climb onto his head, until Katsuki growled sharply, pulling the pup away.

“What do you want for dinner? Any favorites?”

“Soba!” The pup chirped.

“Soba, huh? You and Todoroki should talk.” Kazue tilted his head slightly, so Katsuki elaborated, “One of the other alphas in the pack.”

Even before he finished speaking, Kazue huddled into his chest. “Alpha,” he growled.

Katsuki sighed, set the pup on the counter as he began going around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients. “C’mon, Kaz. He’s part of my pack. You really think anyone here would hurt you? Alpha or otherwise?” Kazue grumbled and pouted as Katsuki set the ingredients next to him. “Here, pup. You want to help?”

Immediately, Kazue perked up, grabbed onto his arm to watch exactly what he was doing, tilted his ear to listen as the alpha told him how to start making dinner.

- - -

An alarm going off in the morning woke Katsuki, but the sound of his pup whining actually got him moving. He shut off the alarm, rubbed a hand along Kazue’s back to settle him, sat up, rubbed his face with a yawn. He went and showered, returned to the room to find Kazue up and out of his nest, tugging at parts of a costume Katsuki had hung in his closet. The alpha rushed to stop him, growled a warning, realized with a quick glance that his room was very much not pup-proof.

He scooped Kazue up with another short growl as the pup wiggled to get away. “Clothes, breakfast, then you’re going to hang out with Mina for a little while.”

Kazue nipped at his hand, growled, didn’t response to what he’d said. Katsuki sighed, but went to pick out something to wear for both himself and the pup. He made a quick breakfast, then had to go upstairs to kick in Mina’s and Kirishima’s door to wake the female beta. While she scrambled to get herself put together, he checked the time, his messages, saw that his order was ready, went back downstairs.

In the dining room, he noticed Yaoyorozu with the two other pups helping them with breakfast and said, “I have to go. Make sure Mina brings Kazue to the hospital later.”

The female alpha barely even looked up from trying to pull a toy from Fumiko’s hand. “I’ll remind her.”

Katsuki grumbled, grabbed his hat and sunglasses, aware that Kazue had rushed over from where he’d been playing in the living room to watch him.

He pushed the sunglasses onto his nose. “Be good, pup. I’ll see you at the hospital in a little bit.”

“Mommy?” There was a cautious note in the pup’s voice.

Katsuki ruffled his hair. “You’ll see him soon. Remember, be good.” The pup stared after him, didn’t respond. The alpha paused, waited to see if he would react, but when he didn’t, he reached for the door.

Immediately, something ran into his leg, held on. A sharp, sour scent had Katsuki pausing, nearly stumbling, the hair on his neck rising. The pup’s eyes were wide, his fingers dug into the alpha’s pants. When Katsuki moved, Kazue clung a little tighter, buried himself in the jeans.

Taking a breath through his mouth to try to clear the pup’s distressed scent only to taste the pungent squish of rotten milk, the alpha crouched down, let the pup grab onto his arm, didn’t allow him to climb up to his scent gland.

“Kazue, it’s all right. I’ll see you soon. I’m not leaving forever.”

The pup whined, dug himself into Katsuki’s arms. “Alpha.”

Katsuki glanced up, but Yaoyorozu hadn’t appeared in the room. No doubt she’d noticed the sour scent in the air, but she probably had her hands full trying to keep the other pups calm.

“None of the alphas here will hurt you, Kaz. You should know that by now.”

“No.” The pup shivered. “Alpha.”

Katsuki frowned, paused, felt his stomach sink as he realized what was actually being said.

He wasn’t worried about alphas. Or at least, he wasn’t worried about any regular alpha.

He was scared of the alpha who had attacked him and Deku.

The realization had Katsuki’s alpha brain rising up, roaring and raging at the thought of the alpha. It would have been easy to let go, to growl and hiss and smother everything in aggressive, possessive, territorial pheromones. But he couldn’t do that. Not right now.

Instead, he breathed in and out slowly, let more of his calming scent out. Took the pup’s hand, unwound them from his jeans. Squeezed them tightly.

“Listen, Kazue,” Katsuki said quietly, “that alpha will never hurt you or your mom ever again. I’ll make sure of it. My pack will make sure. We’ll protect you.”

The pup shivered, rubbed his cheek to Katsuki’s hand, looked up at him with slightly watery eyes. “Promise?”

It was a simple word. A few short letters. But, spoken from the pup’s trembling lips, it was so much more than just a word. There was too much for so few letters to hold, too much meaning, too much weight, too much hope and fear and grief and sorrow.

But Katsuki took that word. Took it in. Gave it light and warmth. Looked his little, scared pup in the eyes, ran a hand along his face to clean his tears away.

Promise?

With all the gravity and weight in such a word, he nodded. “I promise, Kazue. We will always protect you.”

Even then, the pup didn’t look convinced. But he let Katsuki rise, reluctantly let his hand slip away, let the alpha take a step back.

“I’ll see you soon, Kaz. I promise. Mina and the pack will take good care of you until then.”

A little wrinkle to his nose, Kazue shifted from one foot to the other, seemed to consider running after him. “Promise?” He asked again, quiet, maybe more assured.

“I promise.”

“Mommy?”

“You’ll see him soon, pup. I promise that too.”

Kazue blinked, tilted his head. “Will you promise to keep my Mommy safe too?”

Even under the weight of such a promise, Katsuki felt secure. It was a weight he was familiar with. A friend he’d shrugged off long ago. He’d lived most of his life with the weight of Deku’s safety, with the omega’s protection at the forefront of his mind and actions. So when the pup laid that weight back on his shoulders, he shrugged it soundly into place, nodded, and said, “Yes, of course. I’ll protect your mom too.”

Only then did the pup nod, let his hands drop. “Goodbye, Kacchan. I’ll see you soon?”

“Very soon.” Those were the easy words to say. There were others Katsuki wanted to say – You’ll be okay, I’ll be there if you need me, I love you – but there were also words that felt sticky in his throat.

Goodbye.

He never wanted to say that. Not to Kazue. Not to Deku. Not again.

So, he didn’t, not as he turned away, opened the door, and slipped outside.

- - -

It was more than a little nerve wracking to knock at that door. Katsuki had fought villains and monsters that hadn’t made his hands shake this badly. In one sense, he would have given almost anything to not be there.

In another, he wouldn’t have traded this moment for anything when he heard the omega say, “Yes? Come in.”

Even after their last encounter, Katsuki swore he would never get used to the way the omega’s eyes changed when he entered the room. Years ago, his eyes had always brightened when he walked into the room, but not like this. Once upon a time, the omega would have lit up like a beacon, a star shining brightest in a sea of other stars. Now, he was more like a flashlight, a beam that flickered on to investigate something, trying to shine some truth on something he couldn’t quite understand.

What was a little more clear was the closing of Deku’s expression when he saw it was Katsuki come to see him, though intrigue broke through when the omega noticed the vase the alpha held. Being careful not to get too close to him, Katsuki crossed the room, set the vase on his side table, and pulled off the paper bag placed over the flower to reveal a single white egret orchid.

Deku’s jaw slipped open, surprise breaking through every barrier of his as the alpha took a careful seat next to him.

“Are these still your favorite?” He asked.

Deku’s jaw snapped shut and he turned to Katsuki, his expression narrowing. Katsuki sat quietly under his examination, dared not make any sudden movements that might aggravate or scare the omega.

At least he didn’t immediately kick me out. That has to count as progress, right?

Instead of answering the question, Deku sat back, folded his arms across his chest. “Where’s Kazue?”

“He’s coming. One of the betas from my pack will drop him off soon.”

“Why didn’t you bring him?”

Katsuki felt his fingers twitching as he ran a hand along the back of his neck. He wasn’t bandaged up anymore from Deku’s attack, the angry red marks having faded. Deku, however, still had the bandages covering the claiming marks on his neck. Those, too, would fade in time, but they still had another week or so before that happened.

“I wanted a chance to talk before he got here.”

Deku’s eyes flickered over him, pulling out the smaller details no doubt. Eventually, he tilted his head down to glare at him. “Test results came back.”

“For?”

“Whether I was pregnant.” There was a long moment of hesitation, one where Katsuki wasn’t sure what to expect and Deku seemed to be bracing himself. The omega’s eyes slid as if pulled toward the orchid, lingered on the flower. “I wasn’t. There was no need for that procedure.”

It was good news. Katsuki tried to tell himself that again and again. It was good news. Deku hadn’t been pregnant.

“I can take a fertility test after my next heat,” the omega sat back, tilted his chin back until his head rested against his pillow. “But I have to be on suppressants for this cycle. So won’t know for a few months.”

There was something underneath the omega’s words, something Katsuki picked up on, something that had him shifting in his seat. “What are you trying to say, Deku?”

“I’m saying,” the omega huffed, annoyed, “that it was completely unnecessary!”

“Bullshit.”

Deku growled and bared his teeth. Katsuki knew it might not be a good idea to antagonize him, but he didn’t really know any other way of saying it. “Deku, at the time, we had no idea one way or the other and by the time they could have tested for it, it would have been too late. So you want me to say I wouldn’t have signed it if I’d known? Well, obviously I wouldn’t have, but we didn’t know and we couldn’t have known. And I don’t know what I would do if I had to do it over again. But,” he bit his lip, saw as the omega narrowed his eyes dangerously. He met those guarded eyes, leaned forward just as much as he dared. “Deku… you were dying, right in front of me. I had to do anything I could to save you. Anything I could do to take your pain away.” The omega swayed, seemed to burrow himself deeper into his glare, but Katsuki ignored it. “I’m sorry. I know you’re angry at me. But if you need someone to be angry at to help ease your pain, then that’s fine. You can be angry with me. I’ll accept that.”

“This isn’t about being angry at someone,” Deku snarled. “It’s about you doing something wrong. You didn’t have the right to do this to me.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I didn’t. And I accept that wrong. But I told myself I’d do anything to save you, and I have. You’re alive. For me, it doesn’t matter that you’re angry at me. As long as you’re alive, that’s all that I care about.” He paused as the omega turned away, fists balled up in his blanket. “I am sorry though, that I took advantage. The doctor said I could sign in as your alpha since Kazue is my pup. It was all the proof they needed. And you’re right. That didn’t actually give me the right. I just used it as an excuse.”

He waited, waited as Deku’s fists shook, as the omega finally turned to glare at him, and Katsuki dipped his head low, nearly between his knees. “I’m sorry, Deku. I’m so sorry. For everything that happened to you. For the things I did trying to save you. I overstepped. You’re right. And I’m sorry for that.”

“You know that would mean something if you actually meant it.”

Katsuki rose up to catch a glare from the omega. “What’s going to convince you that I’m being serious?”

At this, Deku finally looked away. When he did, his expression softened, twitched, seemed to shiver. He leaned back. “I don’t know.” He spoke softly, but sincerely. With one glance Katuski could see the confliction in his face, the subtle lines and twitches that told him the omega was unhappy.

He wasn’t sure when he’d get to see him happy again. He supposed it was going to be a long time, if ever.

It was a goal to reach for. For however long it took.

The alpha sat back, glanced to the flower sitting on Deku’s nightstand. Years ago, the omega had said he loved the flower for its strange bird-like appearance, had said he could imagine taking flight himself if he looked at it long enough. Katsuki had never been very particular to them, but he’d bought several over the years of being with Deku. It was a small piece of normal in a situation that was anything but normal. Even that small piece was something to cling to, something to relish.

It really was a strange little flower, after all.

“Listen, Deku,” the alpha said, though he paused when the omega snorted.

“I told you not to call me that.”

Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek, but he nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He took a breath, then said, “Listen, Izuku,” he noticed the omega’s hard glare, but calling him Midoriya simply felt wrong, so he pressed on, “I didn’t come here to upset you. I know things are… different between us. I understand that a lot of time has passed, a lot has happened, a lot has changed, but,” his tongue bunched up, so he had to swallow to flatten it. “Guess it would be too much to ask for a normal conversation after all this time. But I haven’t had a chance to tell you hello again, to tell you it’s nice to see you, that I missed you.”

The omega gave no reaction, save for to shift in his bed a little, a flick of his eyes toward the flower. Katsuki watched this all, took note, and pressed on, “I know it’s presumptuous of me to ask this, but I would like to request something from you.” Again, the omega didn’t react as Katsuki shifted in his seat, gathered his thoughts, his words. “I… won’t ask for forgiveness. I know that’s too much to ask for right now. But, I’d like to ask that you consider giving me the chance to apologize. Not just for what happened here. But for… for what I did all those years ago.” He interlaced his fingers, held them tightly. “It’s my fault you were hurt. If I’d been there, it wouldn’t have happened.”

The omega scoffed, had Katsuki pausing as Deku rolled his eyes. “There’s no telling even if we had been together that it wouldn’t have happened. It’s only presumptuous of you to think the world revolves around you so much that you could have stopped a random attack just by keeping in touch with me all these years.” The words made sense, but not put together. The alpha didn’t really know what to say, paused, felt his hands shake as the omega met his eyes, met him with a look not of forgiveness, but release.

“Katsuki, the attack was not your fault.”

A powerful shiver went through the alpha, had him bowing his head, had shame and anger heating his face.

“However,” Katsuki didn’t look up at Deku kept speaking, “it is your fault about what you did. Signing off on that procedure. Trying to calm me down with Kazue’s scent.” Incredibly, the omega actually laughed, low, quiet, but still musical. It was such a wonderful sound. The best sound. Katsuki clung to it, even for the brief moments it rung through the air. “I think it is too much to ask for a normal conversation. Too much as happened. It would be weird just to say ‘hello, how are you doing?’ It would have been too weird even if I wasn’t laying in this damn bed.” He gave a sigh, shifted around. “But I’ll think about your other request.”

It was all he could ask for. For the omega to consider it. He bowed his head low. “Thank you, Izuku. I promise, I will do better. For your sake, and for Kazue.”

The omega hummed in dismissal, shifted again. When Katsuki looked up, there was a thoughtful expression on his face.

“You know, the media’s been talking about you.”

“Yeah?” Katsuki snorted. “Who cares what they’re saying about me.”

“They say you’ve been missing for about a week now.”

The alpha paused. Deku wasn’t looking at him.

“Yeah, well… I had other priorities.”

The omega didn’t say anything.

Katsuki sat back, glanced at the clock. Ten thirty.

He growled, stood. “I should go track down Mina and Kazue. I’ll have a nurse bring him to you.” And I won’t intrude. He didn’t need to say the words for them to be understood.

Deku didn’t say anything, didn’t react as he walked away. It wasn’t until his hand was on the doorknob that the omega said, “Katsuki?” When the alpha looked over his shoulder, the omega still hadn’t moved. But his nose was pinched and his eyebrows were drawn down.

“You’ve changed.”

There wasn’t a simple response to that. Certainly not one that Katsuki could think of. He waited, long enough to realize the omega had no intention of saying anything more.

Then, he grunted, opened the door, left.

Picked up his phone. A single ring, then Mina picked up already screaming about being late, about how she was sorry, they were almost there.

Katsuki growled a bit at her, but he wasn’t surprised.

He’d expected for her to be late, after all.

Chapter Text

Izuku paused when there came a knock at his door, but from the scent just beyond it, he knew who it was, plastering on a bright, happy smile just as the door opened and his pup rushed into the room.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Kazue leaped onto the bed, nearly crashed into the omega, though a sharp chirp from Izuku made him hesitate long enough that when he collapsed onto his chest, it didn’t quite rattle his insides. As much as he wanted to go back to the rough play they used to enjoy, he simply wasn’t quite up to it yet. His broken arm was still a problem in and of itself with the pup, not to mention any of his other aches and pains, though Kazue was at least somewhat aware of his injuries and tried to avoid them when he remembered them.

Still, he was yet a pup, so with all the enthusiasm of a pup his age, he wrapped his arms around Izuku’s neck and rubbed at his scent gland, over the still-raw bite marks on his neck.

Izuku never once flinched, held Kazue tightly as he scented the pup, calmed him right now.

As always, he smelled strongly of Katsuki, but there were other scents as well lingering on the pup, scents he was coming to recognize, though he’d never met these people before. Members of Katsuki’s pack. From the smell of it, they’d taken a roll in caring for the pup. Which honestly was best, even if Izuku didn’t like the idea of his pup being around people he didn’t know. For as much as Katsuki may want to help care for the pup, Izuku doubted he would have the necessary experience. Pack members could take up any slack the alpha may not realize he had.

So it was better. Even if Izuku didn’t particularly like the scents that surrounded his pup.

As the days had gone by, Izuku had begun to pick out particular scents. A couple of alphas, though their scents were faint, stood out most to Izuku. One he recognized as Iida’s, who had identified himself as Katsuki’s pack alpha earlier. But there were two others he could taste, coppery and cold. So at least four alphas in his pack. Their scents were always faintest, meaning Kazue probably wasn’t around them all too often. Izuku suspected he never allowed the alphas near him, just as he always shied away with the hospital staff. Whenever an alpha entered the room, he would curl up at Izuku’s chest and hiss and growl and shake like a little leaf. Izuku wondered how he reacted to the alphas of Katsuki’s pack, if the pup had ever reacted like that to even Katsuki himself.

Beyond the alpha scents, Izuku could smell overwhelming three omegas, each very distinct. One like fresh rain, turned earth, waterlilies swaying atop a pond. One like particularly sharp flowers, gardenias, tulips, a single rose any other color than red. The last like spiced candy, not quite licorice, not quite chocolate. It made sense that the omegas of the pack be the ones handling Kazue more often than the others, especially since he knew there were two other pups in the pack that Kazue had spoken of.

After the omegas, the betas’ scents lingered as well, though they were harder to pick out, just notes of open windows, fresh cotton, and the like. One beta scent, however, overpowered even the omega scents. Like a breeze over the ocean, salty and fresh, tasting of humid air and warm, sandy days. Sometimes, the beta scent ran just as deep as Katsuki’s.

It didn’t take much time for Izuku to deduce that this must be the pack’s head beta. It only surprised him that his scent be so overpowering on Kazue. He couldn’t quite understand why one of the betas, the head beta especially, was taking such an interest in the pup. He’d also figured out through speaking with the pup that the head beta was probably this Kiri, Eijiro Kirishima or Red Riot as Izuku was used to hearing him called. He knew that Katsuki had talked about Kirishima when they were in school, but hadn’t realized that the red-haired hero had taken up the position of head beta of his pack. Perhaps the beta had taken an interest because he and the alpha were good friends. Maybe there was something else to it.

However, undeniably, over all the other scents, Izuku could smell fire, wood smoke, ash, a night under the stars.

It had been years since he’d smelled that. He’d put it from his mind so long ago. And yet, whenever Katsuki entered the room, whenever Kazue leaped into his arms, he felt a little shudder in his chest, his omega reacting to a scent he’d known so well.

Even if his mind was no longer used to such a smell, his heart was. And it ached every time he tasted it.

The pup only settled on his chest long enough for Izuku to thoroughly scent him, then he leaped onto a nearby chair, stopping Izuku’s heart for a moment as the chair tipped dangerously. Then, he plopped down and glared hard at the omega.

“Mommy, when are we going home?”

“Soon, firecracker. The doctors have to make sure I’m all better.”

“But you smell all better!”

Izuku hummed quietly. “Just because I smell a little better doesn’t mean I’m actually all better. See?” He showed the cast on his arm. “I’ll be wearing this for a little while, and I won’t be completely better until my arm is all healed up. The doctors want to make sure I’m doing okay before we go home.”

The pup swished his legs, tilted his head slightly. “When we go home, where are we going to go?”

Izuku raised an eyebrow at the pup. “What do you mean? We’ll go home.”

Kazue kicked both legs out, flexed his toes experimentally. “Kiri said you can come home with the pack! Can’t we go back to the packhouse?”

Oh.

It took a lot of effort to not show his displeasure at the news, for Izuku to not immediately grimace. Instead of frowning, his lips twitched up into a smile at the pup. “Kazue, we’ll go home, I’ll go back to work, you’ll go back to playing with Ms. Sano and the other pups. We’ll just go back to normal.”

The pup stopped kicking his legs. Even if he hadn’t really known how he expected the pup to react, he was not prepared for Kazue to shudder, to curl inward, for his lip to quiver. A sour note entered his scent, Izuku immediately opening his arms and purring quietly, urging him to leap across to the bed and nestle in his arms. The omega pressed his pup to his chest and kept purring, calming Kazue as he buried himself into his scent gland.

“What’s wrong, firecracker?” Izuku asked quietly, stroking the pup’s back slowly.

Kazue shivered deeply. “Alpha.”

When his pup said, Izuku felt a deep, hollow part of himself filling up with dread. It was the kind of dread someone could drown in, one that smelled of long stagnant water, things rotting in its depths. When his pup said the word alpha, he saw jagged teeth and slick black hair, a smile too terrible for words.

Kazue whined quietly, Izuku realizing he’d been letting out a distressed scent. He pulled himself together, purred deeply for the pup. “Don’t worry about that, Kazue. It’ll be all right.”

“Scared.”

“I know, firecracker, but it’s okay. We’re safe now.”

The pup curled up, dug at the hospital robe the omega was wearing. He laid there for long enough that Izuku sat back, relaxed, purred contently wit his pup so near.

It didn’t last very long before Kazue picked his head up, stared at him with wide, red eyes. “Mommy, you said heroes are supposed to protect us.”

Izuku paused, knowing exactly where this was going. His pup was sometimes far too smart for Izuku’s sanity sometimes. “They are and they do. But that doesn’t mean we need to live with them.”

Kazue tilted his head one way then the other, then reached up to pat his cheek. “Mommy.”

“Yes?”

“Mommy,” the pup gave an exaggerated sigh and flopped over onto his back, peering up at Izuku. “Kiri said there’s no costumes in the packhouse. Nobody’s really a hero there!”

“I don’t think that’s how that necessarily works.”

“Of course that’s how that works. I know! I saw it!”

Izuku shook his head. “You saw it, huh? Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me, Mommy. I know.”

“But are you absolutely sure?”

He leaned over the pup, tickled his stomach, nosed and nuzzled him as the pup squirmed and laughed. As the pup riled up more and more, he began nipping at Izuku’s fingers and nose. The omega responded by nipping back at his cheeks and arm, letting off a little growl that the pup responded to in kind. Soon, all thoughts of heroes and packs and homes were gone, Kazue curled up at Izuku’s heart, Izuku leaned back, content to be with his pup again.

His eyes were just starting to close when Kazue climbed up him, rubbed at his cheek. “Mommy, why are you sleeping so much? You slept for like a hundred days without waking up!”

A jab of pain spiked through the omega’s chest, right around his heart, but he only smiled, moved a strand of loose hair from the pup’s face. “Well, I’m still getting all better. Sleeping helps with that.”

Kazue tilted his head to the side. “So, if you sleep more, you’ll get all better soon?”

“Yes.”

The pup chirped happily and dug himself into Izuku’s neck, causing the omega to wince, though Kazue didn’t notice. “Let’s take a nap, then! Lots of naps! So many that you’ll be better super soon!”

“Let’s do that,” Izuku carefully pried the pup off the irritated wounds at his neck, laid back and curled up with the pup in his arms. “You’re going to be good, right?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Good.” He hugged the pup closer, leaning in to bury himself in the smell of burnt sugar, cinnamon. All his favorite things.

- - -

A knock roused Izuku, had him pulling his arms to his chest, realizing with a jolt that Kazue was gone. He sat quickly up, found the pup curled up at the crook of his neck, right at his scent gland. Sighing, he stroked the pup’s back, bit at his lip. Kazue was doing that more and more, and Izuku knew exactly what it was, too.

A protective instinct. Something that maybe nobody else could quite pinpoint. Except, maybe for Katsuki.

Because Katsuki had done this to him many years ago.

When he’d been feeling at his worst, the alpha had always wrapped himself around Izuku, protecting the omega from anything other harms, always with his head resting in that crook, right over his scent gland.

He must still be subconsciously giving off a slightly distressed scent in his sleep, the pup reacting instinctually to calm him.

He had to do better.

The absence of a strong smell from the other side of the door had Izuku pausing, though when it opened to reveal a smiling doctor, he relaxed.

“Hello Midoriya,” the beta doctor held an electronic tablet that he flipped open as he came to sit next to the omega. “How are we feeling today?”

“Better. Not one hundred percent, but better.”

“Good! Better is good and we’ll keep aiming for one hundred percent. In the meantime, I’ll take better.” He nodded to Kazue. “Is this your pup?”

“Yes,” Izuku picked Kazue up, the pup whining but opening his eyes to peer curiously up at the doctor. “This is Kazue. Kazue, say hello.”

Kazue blinked, then yawned deeply. “Hello.”

“Hello, Kazue,” the doctor held out his hand, “I’m Dr. Matura. I’m going to make sure your omega is all right and sunny again.”

When the doctor held out his hand, Kazue shrunk against Izuku, even when the omega stroked his back comfortingly. “What about the other doctor?”

Izuku paused for the briefest moment, just barely hiding a grimace. Luckily for him, Matura smiled seamlessly. “All the doctors in this hospital work together to make sure all our patients are cared for well.”

“Work together?” The pup tilted his head slightly. “Like hero teams! Fighting off villains and keeping us safe!”

“Yes, exactly! Except, we help the people in the hospital.”

“Oh,” Kazue leaned toward the doctor, who held out his hand again, the pup carefully shaking it. “Hello.”

Matura smiled, then turned to his tablet. “Some good news: all your bloodwork is looking back to normal. We haven’t seen any seizure activity, which is good. And your arm is healing nicely. All in all, you’re trending back toward normal pretty quickly.”

“Is my Mommy all better?” Kazue leaned as far forward as he could with Izuku’s arms still wrapped around him.

The doctor chuckled. “Almost. We’d like to keep you overnight just in case, but if everything’s looking good in the morning, you’re free to go home.”

“Yay!” The pup leaped up, flung his arms around Izuku’s neck. “Mommy, Mommy! Did you hear that? You’re all better!”

“He said not quite, Kazue. Remember, my arm is still hurt.”

“Oh.” The pup glared down at the cast as if it were the cause of his pain.

“We will need you to return in a week to check on the progress of your arm,” Matura said without looking up from his tablet. “But with current circumstances, we’re also offering you a follow up appointment at our sister hospital. I work there as well as here, so if you wish to see me there, we can set something up or you can see another doctor. They’ll have all your files since our systems are connected.”

“I’ll take an appointment with you at the sister hospital,” Izuku said without hesitation. Kazue peered curiously at him, but the omega just stroked his head. It wasn’t something to get into with the pup there.

“Very well. I’ll make a note and send it over to the scheduler. She’ll be in touch.” He paused. “What’s a good phone number for you?”

It was a good question. Izuku didn’t know what had happened to his phone or any of the other things he’d had on him when the alpha had attacked. The police so far hadn’t been able to find them and he obviously hadn’t had a chance to pick up a new phone.

He smiled. “Can I get back to you on that?”

“Sure,” Matura flipped the protective screen over the tablet. “We’ll get it at checkout tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” He paused. “Um, doctor?”

“Yes?”

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Within reason,” Matura leaned forward slightly. “What’s up?”

“Can you check to see if anyone is in the waiting room for me? There should be an alpha.”

Matura nodded, took out a notebook. “I’ll have a nurse check for you. What’s the alpha’s name?”

“Bakugo. But I want to know if anyone else is with him.”

The doctor scribbled onto his notepad, clicked his pen, nodded. “Very well. I’ll be in to check on you in a couple hours. If you need anything, let us know, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, doctor.”

“Of course,” the doctor smiled one more time. “Be good to your omega, okay Kazue? You have to be good for him to make sure he gets all better.”

Kazue blinked, then narrowed his eyes, grabbing onto Izuku’s arm and letting out a little huff. The doctor chuckled, stood, and left.

When the door shut, the pup turned a glare up at Izuku. “Mommy.”

“Yes, firecracker?”

“Kacchan said you know him.”

Katsuki’s familiar name brushed a nerve in Izuku, something jealous and spiteful, something he tried to ignore even if it made his nose twitch. He supposed it was better than hearing his pup call the alpha Dad, but it still put a sour taste in his mouth.

“I did. I grew up with him.”

Kazue’s brow furrowed. “But you said Ground Zero is your favorite hero!”

“And he is,” Izuku brushed a hand over his face.

“But Kacchan is Ground Zero! Didn’t you know that?”

What a question that was. Didn’t he know?

Izuku nipped at the pup’s cheek, had the pup growling playfully in response. Before he could get spun up too much, Izuku let out a calming scent, his pup settling immediately, purring quietly. He laid back, let them both relax, using his scent to lull the pup, let it wash over him until he felt boneless in the omega’s arms. It had been far too long since the pup had laid on him, limp and content and safe. It felt so right, so perfectly in place.

Something to prove some things hadn’t changed at all. That what had happened hadn’t completely upended everything. That this, if only this, was sacred enough to remain.

He nuzzled into the pup, drunk his scent in, forced himself not to think about it, not to notice the lingering aches in his body, his mind, his heart.

Another knock jolted Izuku, Kazue immediately lifting himself up to growl at the door.

“Hush, Kazue. Yes?” Izuku called.

The door opened, a nurse leaning in. “Hey, Mr. Midoriya. Dr. Matura said you wanted to know if Mr. Bakugo was in the waiting room?”

“Yes.” Izuku watched carefully as Kazue tilted his head at the mention of the alpha, as he crawled off the bed to peer closely at the nurse. “And if anyone else was with him?”

The nurse smiled. “He’s here, if you wanted to see him. And there was someone else. A beta, I think?”

Izuku nodded, unsurprised, knowing it was probably Kirishima. “Could you take Kazue to him? I’d like to speak with Bakugo. Alone.” He said the last word firmly as the pup turned to him.

“Aww, Mommy!”

“Go with her. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

The pup whined, but Izuku raised an eyebrow, gave him a warning look. Kazue puffed his cheeks out, didn’t fight when the nurse took his hand and led him out of the room. Just beyond the door, Izuku heard her speak quietly, then a hand pushed the door open and the alpha leaned inside.

It always sent a shiver over Izuku’s spine to see Katsuki’s focused red eyes. They reminded him of Kazue, obviously, even if the pup had never looked at him quite like the alpha did.

With a familiar, careful step, Katsuki entered the room, never letting his eyes slip from the omega.

“You wanted to see me?” It was, admittedly, strange to watch how the alpha reacted to him. As if he were actually afraid of Izuku. And, he supposed, that was part of it. But Izuku wasn’t naïve enough to think it was he, himself, that the alpha was afraid of.

He was afraid of the situation, of what had happened, of the consequences of everything. He was afraid of the history between them, as well as their most recent past. He was afraid of having pushed the omega away. He was afraid of having found him again. And he was deathly afraid of what was about to happen.

In his current state, he was effectively useless to Izuku. He was simply too fearful of doing something wrong, of saying something stupid, of screwing this up. Even if Izuku still couldn’t quite place what the alpha’s plan was or what his intentions might be, everything about this made him unable to react, to even move.

So the omega nodded to the seat next to him. “Come, sit down. You’re making me nervous just standing there.”

The alpha hesitated, but only for a heartbeat. His uncertainty was overwhelmed by his need to please and concede to Izuku, so he stepped forward, sat at his side, though he was rigid in his seat.

Izuku watched him carefully, looking for any signs he could pick up on. Once upon a time, he’d been able to tell exactly what the alpha was thinking and, to a point, he still could. But not completely. When Katsuki looked at him, it was with fear, but not a fear Izuku could so easily name.

“I fired Dr. Tanaka.”

Surprise lit Katsuki’s eyes. Izuku wasn’t sure why he started with that point. Mostly, he supposed, he was just curious to see how the alpha would react.

Katsuki paused, then snorted. “Probably for the best. May I ask why?”

Izuku shrugged. “I believe he had more traditional values that clouded his ability to care for me to the level that I expected. That is, to the fact that I’m an unmated omega with a pup who is autonomous and has no alpha at all to speak of. Not even a family member.” He sat back, tried to judge some point of pain or disagreement from Katsuki. The alpha didn’t react, simply watched, giving nothing away, nothing he could name.

“You going to go any further?” He asked eventually.

Izuku shrugged. “Can’t. Technically the law says any alpha affiliated with a pup has say over the pup’s omega’s better health in extreme situations, as the health and behavior of the omega has a direct effect on their pup.” He stared at Katsuki, saw surprise, maybe even horror in his face. “In the legal sense, you had every right to do whatever you thought you needed to to keep me alive for your pup and the doctor had a duty to facilitate that.”

The alpha simply stared at Izuku, a crick in his jaw the only indication of a small pit of anger brewing in him. Izuku wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from, so he continued, “When the law was first proposed, it was sold as a way for alphas to protect suicidal or otherwise mentally or physically impaired omegas from harming themselves, therefore negatively effecting their pups. But it was really designed as a way for alphas to retain some control over omegas they no longer had any other right to. After all, we omegas are too fragile and emotionally unstable to care for ourselves without supervision.”

“You can’t be serious,” Katsuki said flatly. “It’s just fine for the doctor to let me sign off on that procedure?”

Again, Izuku shrugged. “It’s a gray area and I don’t have the funds to add any more black or white, nor do I have the energy for that fight.” The alpha seemed flabbergasted, which just made another spike of danger rush to his fists, his fingers balling up in his blanket. “The fact that you thought it was wrong and still did it kind of pisses me off, to be honest.”

That shocked Katuski out of his thoughts, the alpha blinking at him, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “I already told you. I accepted I’d done a wrong, but I promised myself I’d do anything to save you.”

“Even if it was against my will?”

The alpha leaned back, his lips thinning. “I… don’t have a good answer for that.”

Izuku scoffed. “Of course not.” He let the words linger in the air, then he sat back, sighed. “Listen. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Katsuki growled shortly. “Even if I don’t have an answer, I’m not afraid of having that conversation, Izuku.”

First name still. Izuku sighed. At least it wasn’t that all-too painful pet name.

“If you really want me to yell at you for being a boneheaded alpha some more, I’m perfectly fine with doing that, but this is something that effects Kazue, so we need to talk about it.”

Immediately, the alpha sat up straighter. All business, completely focused. That hadn’t changed about him. He was still as serious as always.

That was good. This was a serious situation. Izuku needed the alpha’s full attention on this.

“Kazue has told me your head beta intends to invite me into your pack.” The alpha tensed, opened his mouth to speak, until Izuku held up his hand. “Me first. To start, how dare you talk about such things in front of an impressionable pup. He’s not stupid. He’s our pup, after all. Did you really think he wouldn’t figure it out?” The alpha leaned forward, but Izuku shook his hand, ignored when he growled sharply. “Second, why him and not you? Are you really afraid of confronting me?”

“No,” Katsuki pushed Izuku’s hand down. “I know you have more to say and I will listen, but believe me, Izuku, that wasn’t about me trying to avoid you. Kirishima said he wanted to be the one to ask you, to do it properly.”

“And you were okay with that?”

Katsuki tensed. “I— I don’t—” he paused as Izuku held up his hand again.

The omega held the alpha’s gaze. “One last thing. Tell me straight, Katsuki, and don’t you dare try to lie to me.” He took in a breath as Katsuki closed his mouth, waited for his words. “Is this your way of trying to get some sort of control over me again?”

A beat.

Another.

Long enough that Izuku felt his heart sinking.

Then, the alpha sunk into his seat.

“Izuku Midoriya.”

The tone of voice had Izuku sitting up, had him listening. He knew that tone. He recognized it from so long ago. There was something comforting about the surety of the alpha, in the way he kept the omega’s gaze, in his refusal to back down.

Katsuki lowered his chin, tilted his head, showed his scent gland in submission, but kept his gaze right on the omega.

“I know nothing in the present may convince you of this, but I have no intention of trying to control you.” His lips twitched, lifted into a smirk that had Izuku’s rebellious heart fluttering. “Hell, I doubt there’s any way I could control you, even if I wanted to. Last I remember, you were more stubborn than I was, and you definitely had stronger convictions.”

Izuku swallowed. Gods, why does he have to still be sexy? This is ridiculous.

Putting that aside, he said, “Then what are your intentions?”

“My intention is this,” Katsuki’s smirk vanished, replaced with a determined glare. “That alpha is still out there. I don’t know what the police have told you, but Tsukauchi thinks you and Kazue may still be in danger.” A shiver went over Izuku before he could stop it. Katsuki paused, clearly noted it, but moved on, “My pack is comprised entirely of heroes. We can protect you and Kazue. You won’t owe us anything. But I at least owe you the chance to live your lives in peace and safety.” He paused, but when Izuku said nothing, he pressed on, “Even if you don’t want to join, at least let me provide you some protection. Our agency can set someone up at your door, just until this bastard is found. If you want, I’ll even stay far, far away. I’ll let other heroes take the watch. I’ll take anything. Just please. I want to know that you’ll be safe, no matter what.”

Izuku paused. Ran a hand over his broken arm. “Katsuki, I already told you the attack wasn’t your fault.”

The alpha blinked, slow, deliberate. “Let me do this at least for you, Izuku.”

There was power in his words. Even if the alpha had said Izuku was more stubborn, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to just back down. The omega knew that.

He chewed at his lip, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I want to speak with your head beta.” Katsuki didn’t move, maybe didn’t breathe. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

Izuku nodded toward the door. “I want to speak with him.”

For a moment, the alpha still didn’t move. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll tell a nurse to—”

“Alone, Katsuki.” The alpha didn’t react, so Izuku again nodded at the door. “Make sure Kazue isn’t bothering any of the other visitors or patients.”

The alpha sat for a moment longer. Then, he stood. “Right.”

“Goodbye, Katsuki.”

Katsuki swallowed. Shifted from side to side. “I’ll go get Kirishima.”

Izuku watched as he left, didn’t fail to notice that he hadn’t said goodbye in response. He rubbed his forehead, closed his eyes.

He still had his eyes closed when another knock sounded at his door. It was a different knock than everyone else’s. Most people knocked softly at a hospital door. This knock was confident, commanding. It announced an overflowing presence to Izuku even before the beta opened the door, even before he saw the great smile on Kirishima’s face.

“Hey!” There was jittery energy to the beta that made Izuku a bit nervous. He didn’t know where the energy was coming from and it was difficult to ascertain what he was thinking just from a first glance, so he was happy when the beta closed the door but stayed back. “Bakugo said you wanted to see me. I’m Eijiro Kirishima, by the way. It’s excellent to meet you.”

“Izuku Midoriya,” Izuku said shortly. “Katsuki talk about me often?”

The beta lifted his hands in a shrug. “Well, you know, given the circumstances you’ve come up a lot more recently.”

“Right.” Izuku paused as the beta took a cautious step forward, though he must have sensed the omega’s uncertainty, as he didn’t try to approach any more. “I have something to say to you.”

“Oh yeah? I’m all ears! Lay it on me!”

“You’ve been scenting my pup.”

The beta stood, frozen, still smiling, though Izuku thought it must just be a reflex.

“And just to be very clear, I do not approve of that. No, I haven’t been able to, until now, expressly say that, but you should have known better than to be doing such a thing.” He nodded toward the door. “Katsuki’s different. He’s the pup’s alpha. I can’t fault him for that. But you, on the other hand, should have known that was crossing a line.” He narrowed his eyes, watched as slowly, slowly, the beta’s smile faded, as his hands lowered, as he curled in, tilted his head in submission to the omega. Izuku still bared his teeth.

“I know you intended to ask me to join the pack, but let me very clear, my answer is no, absolutely not. But because of what you’ve done, the fact that you’ve infused my pup with your scent so heavily, he’s going to want to be around you and the rest of Katsuki’s pack, more so than if he’d just been living with you for this past week. It’s going to be hell weening him off your scents. He’s going to blame me because I’m the one who made that decision. He’s already started talking about wanting to be with the pack, even though that’s not his decision to make nor is it yours.” He snapped his teeth, had the beta flinching. “I don’t know whether you wanted to use Kazue to force me to join, but that’s not going to work. I’m not going to just submit myself to you or to your pack alpha! And yes, I’ve met him. He’s already been in my room laying the groundwork for my joining. It seemed you made this decision that I was just going to join up with my pup and it would all be a nice, happy ending. That’s simply not going to be the case.”

He glared down the beta, searched for any signs of fight. Kirishima, however, hadn’t moved from bearing his neck, was watching the omega with a slightly downturned expression, silently taking his verbal lashing.

Still, Izuku snarled at him. “I’m not going to be controlled by you or Katsuki or anyone else! And for you to try to use my pup against me!” Part of him wanted to leap out of that bed and attack the beta, but his bones shook at the thought and he knew it simply wasn’t going to be worth it. Kirishima’s Quirk meant attacking him wouldn’t be effective anyway. So he snarled and snapped his teeth, but stayed in bed. “How dare you. All of you! Just because I happened to have a pup with one of your pack members doesn’t give you the right to swoop in and indoctrinate him into the pack! Especially when I wasn’t able to give consent!”

Kirishima flinched again, let out a bit of a whine. His submissiveness did make Izuku paused, though he refused to be swayed by such a show. He growled once more at the beta’s whine, but sat back, crossed his arms, gave him the chance to speak. However, if the first words out of his mouth weren’t an apology, Izuku might just leap across the room and attack him.

Kirishima waited, watching Izuku carefully. Then, when he realized the omega wasn’t going to speak anymore, he said, “Midoriya, you’re really hurt, aren’t you?”

Every hair on Izuku’s body rose up. He snarled, leaned forward, felt his muscles bunching up. Kirishima didn’t flinch, but he did tilt his neck more, lowering himself into an even more submissive position.

“It’s okay. I’m not your enemy. You don’t have to fight me. Whatever you want goes. You’re right, I may have overstepped the bounds with Kazue.”

“May?”

The beta grimaced. “But please understand. When he came to our packhouse, he was scared and he was alone. Katsuki didn’t know how to comfort him. The pack just… did what we always do. We crowded in around him, tried to make him feel better.” He paused when Izuku snarled again. “We were in no way trying to take advantage to bring him into the pack, nor were we trying to make you join by making him more comfortable with us. Truth be told, Midoriya, we were really afraid what would happen if you didn’t make it.”

Something snapped through Izuku, had him seizing up, shivering to his core. He tried to take a breath, found his throat was clenching shut. The beta held up his hands, palms out, another show of submission, even as the omega shuddered.

“If you were gone, we were afraid of what would happen to Kazue. Losing you would have devastated him. We thought, if he’s used to us, then if the worst happens, he’ll at least know he has us. He’ll at least know he has a place where he belongs and is loved.” He paused shook his head. “Maybe we went about it the wrong way. Maybe we were a little too quick to bring him in. But Katsuki was really scared you weren’t going to wake up. We were all scared.”

“Why?” Kirishima blinked, so Izuku did his best to growl, found there was no weight behind his voice. “Tell me why it mattered to you.”

“Well, I mean part of it was that Kazue is Katsuki’s pup. He is one of our alphas and there’s kind of no getting out of that. But part of it’s that we’re all heroes. We want to save people who need help.” He tried to smile, even as Izuku glared at him. “You and Kazue needed saving. We weren’t going to just decline that challenge. It’s not in our nature.”

Izuku growled, crossed his arms, tried to hide the fact that he was shaking. The thought of leaving his pup all alone…

Maybe it was a demon he had faced and accepted. But it was still a demon, one with ugly horns and hurtful claws. In the moment when he’d had to choose to save his pup over himself, it had been easy. To accept that he wasn’t going to ever see his pup again, it had been okay, as long as Kazue had survived. But facing that thought again, even as he was safe, even as Kazue was safe, he found himself far too weak to stand up to it.

Although he doubted Kirishima realized any of this, the beta did seem to recognize that the omega was in pain. He lowered his hands, dipped his head forward in a deep bow. “Midoriya, please accept my sincere apology. Please accept it from myself and the rest of my pack. We hadn’t meant to try to force you to join. We just wanted to do what we thought was best for Kazue.”

Izuku snorted, rubbed his forehead against the pounding of a headache. “That excuse is quickly becoming old. It doesn’t make up for effectively introducing Kazue to a pack environment and settling him into it without my permission.”

Kirishima did not rise from his bow. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I wish I could go back and do better.”

Izuku snorted, flopped back into his bed. Closed his eyes. Felt the catch in his throat swell. “Kirishima,” he said quietly, hearing the beta snap up at the emotion thick in his voice. He tried to get it back under control, but couldn’t. “I’m scared. I’m so scared. I’m scared of what happened. I’m scared of that… that monster still being out there. I’m scared of what Katsuki’s going to do. I’m scared of what you and your pack want.” He shook his head, still couldn’t look at the beta. “I’m scared. And nobody seems to care. They just keep doing things that they think is the best for me. Well what you think is the best for me isn’t helping! It just takes away my choices and that scares me.” He waited, but the beta was very quiet. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Kirishima’s head was lowered sadly. “Do you get it? You, your pack, and Katsuki are all taking my choices away. You know who also did that? That monster. He took away all my choices too. I haven’t been able to make a choice for myself since I got yanked off the street right in front of my pup.” The words were like acid in his mouth and he spat them out, felt a little proud and reviled that he’d been able to say them at all. He had to swallow to make sure there was no bile in his mouth. “I just… want to go home. To my normal life. I don’t want things to change. I just… I just….”

I just want things to go back to what they were before.

Before he could help it, a sob strangled its way through his teeth, followed by another. He was so sick of crying. He hated it. He didn’t want to cry anymore.

But it was all he could do.

Kirishima stood with his head lowered, listening to him cry. He never said anything. Izuku found he didn’t really know what else he could say to the beta either.

But eventually, even as Izuku gasped for breath, with tears still running down his face, the beta lifted his head ever so slightly, just enough to look up at the omega. When he met Izuku’s gaze, there was something strange in his eyes. Something like rock, like steel, like a fire that could burn through it all. In Katsuki, he would have called that look smoldering determination. In Kirishima, it looked more like a fortress of resolve.

“Midoriya,” he said, though he spoke quietly, despite the iron in his expression, “I understand. I accept that you do not want to join our pack. That choice is yours to make, and I accept that.” He bowed his head. “If you will, please let me give you another offer. Come live with us. No strings attached. You won’t have any commitments to the pack, you won’t owe us anything, nothing. All I’ll say is, we promise to let you keep your independence. In fact, I’d wager that the omegas living in the packhouse would die defending your independence.” He tried to grin, but it didn’t quiet Izuku’s tears. “Our omegas are pretty feisty. I think you’d get along. They’d be a good support system until you get back on your feet.” He waited, but Izuku didn’t say anything, didn’t react.

Kirishima rose up, kept smiling, though perhaps he was a bit sad. “I know you don’t want to have your choices taken away, but you’re still hurt. It’ll be really hard to care for a pup all on your own with a broken arm, won’t it?” Izuku bared his teeth again, so the beta bowed back down. “It’s your choice. Either way, we’ll understand and accept it. But, maybe just let us help you. Just a little. Just until your arm is healed. Give us that time. To care for you and your pup. To get you ready to face the world again. To pick you back up onto your feet. That’s all we ask. Anything more, and that’ll be your choice.”

Izuku snapped his teeth, but he couldn’t do it with the same force as he had earlier. “I know how this goes. You get me into that packhouse, I get used to the pack instinctually, then I just end up joining because my omega feels better in a pack. I go to your packhouse, I end up being forced to stay.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Kirishima tried to step forward, but Izuku snarled and he quickly backed away. “We have plenty of people who aren’t part of the pack who come and go as they please. People from our class who sometimes just need a little help, a little support.” He smiled, and as much as Izuku wanted to see deception, he saw only warmth. “We even have a male omega who isn’t technically part of the pack who is mated to one of our betas.”

Izuku blinked. Narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying.”

The beta shook his head vigorously. “No, no! I promise! You can ask Katsuki or anyone else! Uhh…,” he scratched his head. “How familiar are you with heroes?”

Izuku glared silently at him.

“Right, well, one of our pack members, Denki Kaminari? Chargebolt, you know! He’s mated with Hitoshi Shinso. Uh, you might not know him, he’s kind of an underground hero, takes after our old teacher more so than any of us, but, uh, his hero name’s—”

“Psyche,” Izuku finished, causing Kirishima to blink. “I know who they are.”

“Ah! Awesome! Well, anyway, Kaminari and Shinso are mated. Full on, like share heats together, engaged, getting married in, wow, three months already, all disgustingly lovey-dovey. Well, Kaminari’s lovey-dovey. Shinso, not so much. But they do love each other! And Kaminari lives full time with the pack. He’s just always liked being with the pack. And Shinso, well, doesn’t. He has a place by himself. He lives there most of the time. Kaminari goes and spends the night sometimes and sometimes Shinso comes and crashes at the packhouse. They actually shared his most recent heat at the packhouse because it was a bit safer for them, made them feel more secure, you know? But anyway, Shinso’s completely independent, even while having his mate in the pack. And he’s not the only one! We have alphas and betas who are also not really part of the pack, but they come and go as they need to. Iida calls it having ‘open invitations.’ Long as you were accepted by the pack, you can come and go as you want. Door’s always open. We’re always around if you need us.” The beta paused to laugh, to smile widely. “So you see, it’s okay. You aren’t going to be trapped by us. Open invitation would apply to you, too! If you need some help, like while your arm is broken and you need an extra pair of hands and eyes to keep Kazue from getting into trouble, then we can be there! And if you want to go home and be by yourself, then you’re welcome to do that, too! Either way, we’ll support you. In any way we can.”

Izuku listened. He thought about what Kirishima said. His tears eventually silenced.

It seemed too good to be true. It sounded like a trap.

But… at the end of the day, both Katsuki and Kirishima were heroes. If there were shady things happening around their pack, Izuku would have heard about it. It’d have been all over the news.

So maybe he wasn’t lying. Still…

“I’m still not happy about how you handled Kazue.” Izuku growled. “Your scenting him was completely inappropriate.”

Kirishima laughed, but in a nervous way. “I, uh, don’t really have an excuse for that. I guess I’m so used to the other pups in the pack that I just kind of did it without thinking. Oh yeah! And there’s two pups in the pack. Fumiko and Takahiro. They’re a little younger than Kazue, but they are great built-in distractions for if you need a break. Iida’s omega is amazing with pups and our third alpha is really good at keeping track of them all. They’re great mothers, really. So amazing. It’s honestly crazy watching them be heroes then go home and take care of their pups. I’m usually way too exhausted to do any of that!”

The beta shifted, raised his hands again. “But listen, I won’t do it again. Not at all. Promise. And I’ll tell the others not to as well. Although, I think it may have just been me doing it. I kind of scent all the pack members.”

Izuku blinked at him. “You are the head beta.” He said flatly.

Kirishima laughed. “Hey! I’m surprised you know that’s something a head beta would do. Were you ever part of a pack?”

“No,” Izuku growled. But for a little while, I thought it was a possible I’d be joining one. He absolutely refused to say that.

“Ah, well, it does take some adjusting to, being around so many people, but you get used to it. The packhouse is big enough for everyone to be able to get away from each other. You’d have your own room, away from the everyone else. The betas, the omegas.”

“Katsuki?”

Kirishima nodded. “Especially Katsuki.”

Izuku didn’t want to admit how nice that sounded. To be near the alpha, but to have a very distinct distance between them as well.

He crossed his arms, tapped his finger. Rubbed at his eyes. “I’m not weak.” He said finally, looking away when the beta blinked at him. “I’m not. I’ve been taking care of Kazue all on my own for four years now. Got through my pregnancy all on my own. I didn’t need anyone. I was fine.”

Even as they left his mouth, they sounded forced. To his relief, Kirishima didn’t point that out.

What the beta did, was to smile, to laugh under his breath. “I’ll admit, I haven’t known you for long, but first thing you do when I walk in the room is put me right in my place. Me! A hero, head beta of a big pack. You just did what you had to do.” He grinned, flashed sharpened teeth that should have made Izuku’s heart stop, but for some reason, didn’t. “That’s manly as hell, Midoriya! Plus, Katsuki’s always going on about how you’re the strongest omega he’s ever known. I’d never doubt anything he says, so I knew that had to be true.” He lowered his arm, smiled a bit softer. “Midoriya, you’re not weak. Nobody would say that. Nobody.”

Izuku curled in around himself, still didn’t look at the beta. “I’ve been doing this on my own for so long. I can do it.”

“Yeah, you could. I have no doubts.” Kirishima paused, clearly tried to meet Izuku’s eyes, though he purposefully looked away. “Asking for help doesn’t mean you’re not capable of taking care of yourself and your pup. It just means you need a little support! It just means you’re human, like the rest of us. And it’s okay to ask for help. Just as much as it’s okay to accept help.”

Izuku growled, glared at the beta, who immediately tilted his head again. When he did, Izuku let his growling fade away, actually laughed under his breath. “You really want an angry, growling, snarling omega in your packhouse?”

Kirishima thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “I mean, we already have an angry, growling, snarling alpha in the pack. We’re all used to Kats by now. So, yeah! We’d love to have an angry, growling, snarling omega! Long as that omega’s you, Midoriya. We’ll take you however you come!”

It was hard not to warmed by Kirishima’s words. It was hard to stay angry at him. It was hard to realize that he was still scared and hurt and maybe a little broken. That things weren’t just going to go back to normal just because he wanted them to.

He curled in around himself. “Is it… true… that the alpha is still out there?”

The smile dropped like a stone from Kirishima’s face. He lowered his chin, watched Izuku closely. “Yeah, it is.”

“I… I don’t want my pup to get hurt again. Not like that. Never again.”

The beta shook his head. “Never again. And we wouldn’t let you get hurt either. You’d be safe with us, for however long you needed us.”

Izuku shivered. Stilled. Took in a breath.

Met the beta’s gaze as bravely as he could. “Fully autonomy. I want a promise that if I say I want to leave, you’ll help me pack my things and leave.”

Kirishima met his challenge, nodded once. “Easy promise. I can swear to it.”

“Kazue and I will have our own room.”

“Yup! Probably going to end up being on the omega side of the house. All the omegas live on that side, but that does include Iida, who rooms with his omega, and two of our alphas who are mated. Katsuki and us betas live on the other side.”

Part of Izuku’s brain paused at the mention of an alpha pairing, but there was honestly too much going on for him to give it a lot of thought, not that it would have mattered anyway. “Just until my arm heals.”

Kirishima chuckled. “It’s for as long as you want, Midoriya! Whenever you want to leave, then go! And if something happens and you want to come back, then like I said, door’s open! Mina loves having guests at the packhouse. It gives her an excuse to throw a party.”

Izuku grimaced. “No parties.”

The beta nodded, suddenly serious. “No parties.” He repeated.

Izuku nodded, clenched his hands.

Sighed deeply.

“Doctor wants to keep me overnight, just to make sure everything is okay. Then, they’ll sign my release papers in the morning.”

Kirishima waited, but when Izuku said nothing else, he nodded. “We’ll have a room ready for you if you want it.”

If he was being honest, Izuku didn’t know what he wanted to say. He didn’t know what he wanted to do.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Would you… please get Katsuki for me? Stay with Kazue in the waiting room for a moment.”

The beta didn’t hesitate. “Sure thing! I’ll send him right over!”

As soon as the beta left, something blossomed in Izuku’s chest. Something that told him he was weak. So very weak for giving in. For just accepting everything. For letting the beta convince him. For reaching out to Katsuki of all people.

For not being strong enough for his pup.

By the time the alpha knocked at the door, Izuku was far too deep into tears to stop. Upon realizing he was crying, Katsuki snarled deeply, snarled about how he was going to kill Kirishima, spun as if to track down the beta.

“Kacchan.”

He didn’t know why he called out to the alpha as he did. He didn’t know how the name slipped through. He didn’t know why he was just so weak.

But he was tired. And he was scared. And Katsuki smelled so good.

He smelled like home. A home Izuku had lost so very long ago.

And as much as it hurt, it was comforting to be in the alpha’s presence.

When Izuku called out to him, Katsuki seemed to rise up, for every inch of his body to shiver.

He turned immediately to Izuku, sat at his side. Paused. Offered his hand.

Without thinking, Izuku took it, wept. For all that had happened. For all that he couldn’t stop.

For every damn thing that was still happening to him.

For his part, Katsuki sat very quietly at his side. Squeezed Izuku’s hand. Ran his thumb in little circles over his palm. Released some of his scent. Offered any bit of comfort he could, though never pressed himself forward. For that, Izuku was so very grateful. At that moment, he didn’t think he would have been able to push the alpha away, no matter how much he may have wanted to.

Chapter Text

Katsuki arrived for the second time at the hospital without Kazue in tow. The pup was currently with Kirishima and the other pups, playing at a playground under the hopefully watchful eye of the beta. The plan was that while Kazue was distracted, Katsuki would bring Deku to his apartment, let him grab the things he needed most, and bring him to the packhouse. The packhouse was currently empty, with a promise that it would remain so until Katsuki let the pack know Deku was ready to start meeting them. Then, they’d start trickling in, giving the omega time to acclimate himself to everything.

There was no doubt in Katsuki’s mind that this was going to be overwhelming for him. Even if he was tough, it was a lot to take in, and even if he probably wasn’t going to be extremely starstruck due to the circumstances of their meeting, he was still going to be introduced to a bunch of heroes. If the omega was anything like the nerd he used to be, that would have an inevitable effect on him, one that Katsuki would have to be careful of. If at any point Deku started getting overwhelmed, they’d have to stop everything and let him rest. The omega’s health was their top priority. Nothing else mattered so long as he got through the transition well. They’d figure everything else out later.

The omegas had spent the previous afternoon and well into the night preparing a room for Deku and Kazue. There had been some scrambling to convert one of the guest rooms into their bedroom. While it was still temporary, as Katsuki and Kirishima made sure to make very clear to the pack, the omegas had wanted to make sure the two felt safe and welcome, so they’d gone out and gotten extremely soft sheets for the bed. They had made sure not to actually get any nesting materials, as the gifting of nesting materials, heat materials, and other such things was considered part of the ritual of an omega joining the pack. There was a fine line between welcoming and joining, and the omegas knew just how to skirt it. So Katsuki had let them handle that, had simply spent the entire day pacing back and forth restlessly, even after Kazue started marching alongside him, to the delight of the rest of his pack.

For now, all Katsuki could focus on was making sure Deku was as comfortable as he could be as they stepped outside the hospital. It was going to be his first time out in the world since being attacked. No doubt it was going to be a little scary for him. That’s where he would have to step up. To let Deku know it was going to be okay. He’d kill that alpha if he tried to get anywhere near them. He’d grind that miserable excuse for a human being into the dirt.

His lip was still twitching toward a snarl at the thought when he entered the waiting room, as he was told he could go back to see Deku, as he walked into the omega’s hospital room.

Immediately, he was struck still and silent.

Deku turned, readjusted the jacket on his shoulders. Frowned. “Something wrong?”

Katsuki swallowed, shook his head. “No, sorry.”

“You sure? You looked a little startled.”

The alpha closed the door behind him, shifted from one foot to the other. “It’s just… good to see you out of bed.”

And it was. It was so good to see Deku standing there, clearly having just pulled on the spare clothes that Kaminari had brought him from the pack the previous night. A quick investigation had uncovered that the omega and beta were very close in size, so Kaminari had come by the hospital to drop some off for Deku to wear until they could go to his apartment to get his own things. Katsuki had offered to have someone go by his place for him, but the omega clearly hadn’t liked that idea nor had he been too thrilled at the idea of Katsuki going out and picking some up from the store for him, so borrowing the beta’s clothes had been the best compromise. They had been thoroughly cleaned beforehand to get rid of the beta’s scent as much as possible, though Katsuki suspected the omega could still sense the lingering smells of the pack on the clothes. He could tell by the subtle wrinkling of his nose, the way the omega kept scratching at his skin, the clearly not-quite settled way he shifted on his feet.

Even with the clear discomfort, Deku was out of that hospital bed, he was on his feet. He was alive.

He was alive.

Everything else could be fixed. As long as he was alive….

The omega snapped his fingers in front of Katuski’s face. “Seriously, what is up with you?”

The alpha blinked. “Sorry. It’s just….”

Deku raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

Katsuki shook his head, bit his lip. “You’re alive.”

Something heavy came to a rest between them. It would have been easy to put the blame on his words alone, but that wasn’t quite right. There was something so much more than just his words. It was everything they meant. For Deku, for Kazue, for Katsuki, for the three of them. For a future now possible, for opportunities, for peace, for a chance.

A chance for anything, for everything.

It was a heavy weight. An enormous weight.

Deku, just as beautiful and graceful, and frankly stubborn, as ever, stepped right over that weight, right past Katsuki.

“Yup. Sure am. Glad you noticed. Can we go now? I want to see my pup.”

“Yeah. You got your discharge papers?” Deku pulled some folded papers from his pocket. Katsuki nodded. “Car’s out front.”

The omega tilted his head. “First class service for heroes?”

Katsuki shook his head. “Orders from the police. Less of a chance of anything happening.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?”

The alpha nodded. “Yeah. And I wouldn’t let anything happen. But the police would appreciate the number of explosions at a hospital to be kept at a minimum.”

To his surprise, the omega actually snorted. When he looked, there was a small smile on his face. He shrugged. “You were banned from that clinic back in second year.”

The alpha growled. “That was a long time ago.”

The omega’s smile faded. “Yeah,” he ran a hand over his forehead. “Yeah it was.” There was an awkward silence between them, only braved when the omega huffed. “Anyway. Tell me about this place I’ll be living.”

“It’s loud,” Katsuki hissed, “it’s annoying. It’s crowded.” He paused. Shrugged. “It’s cozy. It’s happy. It’s a good home.”

Deku nodded, smacked his lips. “I was hoping for more of a description of what it looks like. You know, what I can expect in terms of space and amenities.”

“Oh,” Katsuki reached for the door, intending to get it for Deku, only for them to automatically open when he approached. The omega smirked at him as he walked through. “We’ll talk in the car.”

“Right,” there was more than just a smirk in Deku’s voice this time.

An awning hung right over the hospital’s entrance and just beyond it at the edge of the road, sat the pack car. Katsuki unlocked it, the omega’s attention drawn to the sound it made. He followed the alpha toward the car. Stepped into the light. Stopped.

He stilled with a jerk, so sudden that Katsuki reached out, convinced the omega had tripped on something. To his surprise, Deku’s face was raised toward the sun, his eyes blown wide, jaw slacked in awe. The sunlight was washed over him, his face tilted toward the warmth, his body drawn to the clear sky above.

There was something cathartic about the moment. Something that sung to things deep in Katsuki’s soul. But it was also heartbreakingly tragic. How long had it been since the omega had felt sun on his face? How long since he’d seen the outside world? His world had been forcibly reduced to a horrible, rotten building then a sterile, unfeeling hospital room for so long. Now, the entire city had rolled out before him, the sun had lit up his sky. Deku took his first steps out into the world and it welcomed him home.

Katsuki let the moment linger, but when tears started to gather in the omega’s eyes, he cleared his throat. “Izuku?”

At the sound of his name, he jolted, tears slipping from his eyes. He batted them quickly away, sniffled, ducked his head low as he raced for the car. “Let’s just go,” he tried to say, stumbled as he wasn’t looking where he was going. Katsuki hooked a hand under his arm, held him up, kept close at his back as he guided him into the car.

Once the omega was safely in the passenger’s seat, Katsuki took a moment to breathe, to curse that bastard alpha and thank every deity he could think of for the chance for Deku to see the sun again. He’d never given much thought to how beautiful it was, not until he realized just how easy it was for it to be taken away from someone.

Then, he cleared his throat, got into the driver’s side, turned the car over, politely ignored Deku as he cleaned up his face, as he leaned toward the window, taking in the sun and the city and the world around them.

- - -

Deku’s place was on the other side of town. It was a bit of a drive, which Katsuki at first thought might be good, until he realized that the omega had no intention of saying a word to him. Then, the silence grew and grew, broken only by the occasional horn or shout from the street, which inevitably had the omega startling. Even though he didn’t really ever listen to music, Katsuki turned the radio on, just to fill the silence and soothe Deku, finding a very inoffensive channel playing rock. Deku tilted his head toward the radio, then turned it up louder. Message received, Katsuki kept his eyes forward and didn’t try to engage in conversation for the rest of the drive.

It felt like days had passed before they pulled up to a small convenience store, three stories high, cramped to be generous. It wasn’t anything too spectacular, but it wasn’t a run-down mess either. For an unmated omega mother, it was practically a dream come true. To Katsuki, it stunk of scrambling for scraps, of clawing for any source of safety and comfort.

As they turned the corner, Katsuki did notice Deku relax into his seat, that there came an unguardedness to his body, a release.

For the first time, Katsuki wondered if taking him to the packhouse really was a good idea. If he was so at ease here, then was it really in his best interest to take him to an unfamiliar place? Maybe they could just set up a patrol route around this store. Maybe they could allow Deku to remain home, where he was most comfort.

Even as he thought that, several people filtered into the shop. Too many to keep proper track. Too many to be sure Deku and Kazue would be safe there. The risk was too high, the danger too present. Even if logistically they could pull it off, it would be a risk Katsuki simply wasn’t willing to take.

Deku stepped out of the car, the alpha quickly doing the same. “There’s an entrance on the side that I use,” Deku said, pointing to a tiny alley next to the shop.

Katsuki glared at the alley, noted the tight, controllable entrances, nodded. “You want me to stay outside?”

The omega shrugged. “It’s fine. You can come in. But first, I need to get the spare keys from Mr. Aoki.”

Glaring down a large group of people who passed by them without noticing, the alpha growled. “No word from the police where your things went?”

Deku shook his head as he approached the shop entrance. “They think everything was ditched in the garbage. Doubt anything will turn up at this point. Been too long.”

Katsuki growled shortly as Deku reached for the door, only for it to fly open and for someone to crash into the omega. Immediately, the alpha let out a ferocious snarl, reaching with smoking fingers for the person holding Deku, until the omega snapped, “Katsuki, stop!” He jerked, growled, as a small, round, elderly face turned to peer up at him.

The face was heavily wrinkled, eyes squished under thin eyebrows, very little hair to speak of, shorter than both him and Deku. It occurred, slowly, to the alpha that this man was, indeed, not the jagged-tooth alpha who had attacked Deku, nor was he even an alpha. His muted scent suggested he was a beta.

Taking a deep breath, Katsuki lowered his hands, forced them into his pockets. “Sorry.”

Deku looked a little miffed, until the old man suddenly picked him up around his middle and shook him in a tight hug. “Oh, young Izu! Izu, Izu, Izu,” the old man set the omega down, sniffled, and suddenly burst into tears.

Deku smiled, wrapped his arms around him, purred quietly. “I’m back, Mr. Aoki.”

The old man let out a wail. “Oh, Izu!” He stepped back, stared Deku up and down, took his hands tightly. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You too. I’m just happy to be out of that hospital.”

The beta’s lips quivered. “Oh, young Izu. I’m so, terribly sorry. So, so sorry. You didn’t deserve this.”

Deku seemed to waver. Katsuki could see he was trying so hard to hold himself together. His smile was strained at the corners, his eyes glowing with a watery sheen, his hands threatened to give a little quiver. But despite all that, he was holding strong. He squeezed the old man’s hands. “Thank you. And I know. Don’t worry. I’m okay.” Aoki lifted Deku’s broken arm, glaring at the cast. Deku pressed his hand over the old man’s fingers. “I promise. I’m okay.”

The elderly beta wrinkled his nose. “Where’s little Kazue? Is he well?” Alarm quickly raced into his face, btu Deku shook his head.

“He’s fine, he’s fine. He’s being cared for by an acquaintance at the moment. And speaking of,” he turned to Katsuki, “I’d like to introduce an old friend of mine, Katsuki.” He left off the last name. Katsuki figured it was so no one could overhear and recognize him as one of the top pro heroes.

“Ah! A friend?” There was a question in Aoki’s voice as he glared down Katsuki.

“Yes. A friend.” A hard line in Deku’s voice had the old beta turning his glare to the omega. “Listen, Mr. Aoki. I, uh, actually was wondering if you had the spare key for my apartment? All my things disappeared.”

The beta grunted, gestured him inside. “Of course, little Izu! Come, come. They’re in my office. Bring your… friend.” Deku grimaced deeply behind his back and Katsuki shifted uncomfortably, but they followed.

As they made their way through the store, Aoki would pause every now and then to rearrange something or to clean up a display, deft fingers speaking to many years’ experience. The result was, however, that Deku and Katsuki would have to stop periodically while waiting for the storekeeper to finish his tasks. The fluid movements of Aoki versus the stuttering pace of the alpha and omega inevitably drew eyes toward the group. The longer they lingered, the more Deku began to shift, the more he glanced around the shop. Sensing his growing discomfort, Katsuki stepped closer, lifted a lip when an alpha stepped a little too near and Deku jerked away. The alpha backed off and the two moved on.

When they did, Deku leaned back to elbow Katsuki in the ribs. “Don’t scare any of the customers away!”

Katsuki grumbled under his breath, but kept his head mostly down as they made their way to the back of the store and into the office. Aoki dug in a desk drawer and pulled out a key on a keychain with a single lucky yen coin tied off to it, which he handed to Deku. “If you need help with anything else, you’ll let me know, yes?”

“Yes, Mr. Aoki,” Deku fingered the key, gripped the lucky yen tightly. “Actually, I wanted to let you know I won’t be around for a while. Katsuki is part of a pack and they’re going to help me out with Kazue until I’m doing a little better.”

“Mmm,” Aoki glared at Katsuki sharply, ran a finger along his chin. “Very good. You need someone watching your back and I’m afraid I’m a bit too short to help you.”

Deku smiled fondly, took the old man’s hand. “You’ve done enough for me. I couldn’t thank you enough.”

Aoki pat Deku’s arm. “Get better. That’ll be more than enough thanks for me.” He rounded on Katsuki sharply enough that the alpha tensed, his lip twitching toward a snarl. “And you. You best be gentlemanly, you hear?”

“Mr. Aoki.”

“Little Izu, I never asked you about your past, you know. But I know a drowned rat when I see one. Especially when he has blond hair and red eyes.” The beta jabbed a finger into Katsuki’s face. It took every ounce of his control not to snap at the clear challenge. “I don’t know if this is better late than never, but your intentions best be of the purest kind, or you’ll be hearing from me.”

Who the hell does this guy think he is? Katsuki couldn’t help but to click his tongue at least. He didn’t say anything, afraid of what just might come out of his mouth, giving the beta time to look him up and down once more before huffing discontently and turning back to Deku.

“Be safe, little Izu. I’ll keep an eye on your apartment while you’re gone.”

“Thank you. You’re too kind, Mr. Aoki.”

“Of course, of course.” He released Deku, as if sending him off. “Come see me soon. I want to be able to have a proper conversation.”

“Will do. Take care, all right? I’ll be back.”

The old shopkeeper nodded, gave a little wave as Deku turned to lead Katsuki out of the shop. The alpha didn’t miss when the old beta gave him one more appraising, knowing look before turning away.

Deku was very quiet, all the way out of the shop, into the alley, up a small staircase that led to a door tucked deep into the wall. He kept his head down, twisted the string attaching the lucky coin to the keychain absently. Katsuki couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking.

Eventually though, he paused to insert the key, unlock his apartment. With his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated one last time.

“Don’t mind the mess, I guess. Wasn’t expecting company, obviously.”

The door opened and Deku cautiously peered inside, almost as if he were afraid of what he might find. Katsuki pushed the door open a little more so he could look over the omega’s shoulder as he flicked the lights on.

It was strange to see just how much the absence of life had affected the apartment. There was a sour smell lingering in the air, both Deku’s and Kazue’s scents having faded. Instead, the apartment smelled of stagnant air and rotting food. Deku curled his nose as he looked around, shivered slightly, but stepped inside.

Once inside, Katsuki could see just how small of a space it was. A single room functioning as kitchen, playroom, living room, office. A small television situated on a low table, a sofa well-loved, with curves that Katsuki could see would fit to the omega’s body. A short coffee table, a laptop still open on its surface, though long dead, papers and pens in uneasy piles next to it. A stack of textbooks with sticky notes poking out of them rested next to the sofa, easily within arm’s reach. The kitchen small but clean, tidy, organized. Bare bones. Kazue’s toys littered the room. Of the “mess,” his toys could be counted the most among it, though Katsuki wouldn’t necessarily call the place a mess by any standard. If Deku saw how the packhouse could get whenever the betas got on the tear, then he wouldn’t have worried about that. Two doors in the back, Katsuki guessed, led to a bedroom and bathroom. But that was all there was to see. The walls were plain, save for one photo. Of Deku and his mom. A few other photos of Kazue were scattered around, mostly shoved into the small free spaces on the sparse furniture, along with a single figurine of All Might. Other than that, Katsuki couldn’t say there was a lot of Deku’s personality in the room.

It was humble to say the least. But it was at least functionable.

“Here,” Deku had gone over to the laptop, shut it, reached for the charging cord, “there’s garbage bags under sink. Grab some for me?”

Katsuki paused, watched as the omega began picking up some of Kazue’s toys. “You… don’t have any normal bags to carry this stuff in?”

Deku turned to give him a look. “Yes. I do. But they’re in my bedroom.” He shifted the toys in his arm to nestle one more among them. “Do me a favor and go through the fridge, get the trash. Should help with the smell. I’ll start packing the things we need.”

Ah. There it was. The line in the sand. All omegas had nests. In a place this small, Deku’s had to be in his bedroom. And there was no way Katsuki was going to be allowed anywhere near it.

That was fine. He could accept that.

And in fact, he did, turning away without a second thought. No, cleaning out the fridge and taking out the trash wasn’t very glamorous. But if it helped Deku, then he didn’t really care.

Under the sink, he found rolls of garbage bags, pulling one out and shaking it loose. As he did, he noticed the omega slipping into one of the back rooms, closing the door before he could see inside. He turned to the fridge, opening it to see that Deku and Kauze had eaten cheaply, but well. Deku must have picked up some cooking skills. If not for being about two weeks old, his leftovers looked somewhat interesting.

He tossed everything, literally everything, telling himself he’d pay to restock the fridge himself. The fact was, they didn’t know how long Deku was going to be living at the packhouse and for how long the apartment was going to be empty. With two weeks already gone by, there was very little left that would still potentially be good. So he tossed everything, until the fridge was starkly empty. It took him two trips to throw everything away, then he turned to emptying the normal trash bins as well. Once that was done, he noticed that Deku hadn’t reemerged from the back room, so he took a seat at the sofa, on the opposite side of where Deku’s imprint was. And he waited.

He didn’t have to wait much longer before the door finally opened to reveal the omega struggling with a couple of suitcases. Katsuki rushed over to help, though he paused when Deku tensed. He took the bags, turned his back to the bedroom.

“You’re sure this is everything?”

“Yeah.” Deku gazed sadly around the room. Katsuki waited, patient, as the omega seemed to take everything in, for him to notice the missing items, for him to jolt to his senses and curse suddenly as he scrambled over to the textbooks. He went to pick them up, paused, and set them back down.

“What’s wrong?” Katsuki asked. “Aren’t you going to need those?”

Deku shifted, shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. No, I don’t need them.” He hugged himself. “Let’s just go.”

Katsuki paused. Thought about pushing him. He would need those textbooks, obviously, for him to continue his classes. But then, he realized how ridiculous that sounded. After missing two weeks of school, after going through something as traumatic has he had, it would be very difficult to catch up, to continue his schooling. If Katsuki had to make a guess, he’d say that Deku had already been in contact with the school, that he was probably already withdrawn from all his classes.

So no, those textbooks weren’t going to be anything but paperweights.

Katsuki shrugged to more comfortably shoulder one of the bags. “Take a moment to make sure you have everything. I’ll get these down to the car and check in with Kirishima.”

“All right.” Deku muttered quietly, though he didn’t move, still just staring around the space.

Katsuki knew it was unlikely he was going to do anything else. But he also recognized that the omega needed this moment to himself to grieve what had happened, what was happening. So he picked up the second bag and left, closing the door behind him. He gave the alleyway a quick sweep, considered lingering near the door, but ultimately went back to the car, keeping an eye on the staircase as he put the bags in the trunk and got into the driver’s seat. He called Kirishima, told him they would be on the way soon. And he sat and he waited.

Given time, Deku emerged from the apartment. Turned to lock it. Stood at the door. Then made his way toward the car.

When he got in, Katsuki paused just long enough for him to pull his seatbelt, then put the car in reverse. “Kirishima’s finishing up feeding the pups lunch, so we’ll pick them up at the café. You going to want anything to eat?”

Deku shook his head. “No. I’m fine right now.”

Katsuki grunted, focused on the road.

Somehow, it was even more awkward between them on the way to get Kazue.

- - -

As soon as Deku got out of the car, Kazue, sitting with his back to them, whipped around, as if sensing his omega was there. He let out a squeal of joy as Deku opened his arms wide for the pup, Kazue racing to him and letting the omega scoop him up into his arms. They scented each other briefly, before someone walked past and Deku tensed, stepping quickly away. In an instant, Katsuki was at his side, placing himself between omega and pup and the stranger, though they never even glanced toward the three.

In the end, Deku swallowed nervously and glanced toward Kirishima and the other two pups. Fumiko was glaring at Deku while Takahiro was much more interested in trying to tug at the beta’s hair. The omega looked them all over, but didn’t step any closer.

“You want to say hello?” Katsuki asked.

Deku paused. Shook his head. “It would be impolite not to meet their parents first.”

“It’s all right, Deku. It’s not like their parents don’t know about you.”

“It’s fine, Katsuki,” the omega nodded toward Kirishima, curt, polite, simple, though he completely missed the beta’s wave in response when he turned on his heels toward the car. “Let’s just go. I’m tired.”

“All right.” Katsuki watched as Deku helped Kazue into the car, eventually glanced to Kirishima. “You got things here?”

Kirishima nodded. “Yaoyorozu’s going to come help me. I think.” There was something of a plea in the beta’s voice.

Pathetic. Katsuki snorted, felt a bit of a smile tug at his lips as he went back to the car.

Deku was already sitting in the passenger’s seat, staring out the window, when Katsuki got in. In the backseat, Kazue was kicking his legs. “Where are we going?”

“To the packhouse,” Katsuki checked the mirror, saw a flash of the pup. “We’re going to move you and your mom into a new room.”

Kazue stopped kicking his legs. “We’re not going to sleep in your room, Kacchan?”

“Absolutely not.” The omega’s voice was a bit loud, maybe a bit flustered.

Katsuki cleared his throat. “It would be better for you two to have a separate room.”

“Oh.” There seemed to be a bit of confusion in the pup’s voice. Maybe disappointment. Soon enough though, he was back to kicking his legs. “Don’t worry, Mommy! You’re going to like it, I think! It’s super cool.”

To that, Deku had nothing to say.

- - -

The omega watched curiously as they drove past every single house in their neighborhood, but as soon as Katsuki turned into the driveway for the packhouse, he seemed to lose all interest. When the alpha put the car in park and said, “We’re here,” Deku was out of the car immediately, going to get Kazue. Once the pup was in his arms, he settled, and Katsuki realized just how nervous the omega was.

He got out, went to get the bags, noticed Deku lingering by the car. “Don’t worry. There’s no one here. Kazue and I will give you a tour and when you’re ready, you can start meeting everyone, just like we agreed.”

“I know.” Deku shifted, glanced around.

Katsuki stopped. Put the bags down. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you, Deku.”

“Not that name.”

Katsuki winced. “Sorry. My fault.”

Deku sighed as Kazue glanced between the two of them. He rested his head on the omega’s chest. “Mommy, what’s that name Kacchan calls you?”

“Don’t worry about it, firecracker. And don’t worry about me, Katsuki.” The omega turned to the house, looked it up and down for the first time. Paused. Shifted nervously. “There’s just… a lot of new smells here.”

Oh. Right.

Katsuki took up the bags once more, led the way to the front door.

In a reversal to them entering Deku’s apartment, Katsuki paused to turn the lights on and take a breath before stepping out of the way. Deku took exactly two steps into the packhouse before he paused, carefully sweeping the room. He stood long enough that Kazue squirmed in his arms until the omega let him down, then he raced through the house, giggling. Katsuki watched him, happy to see him still so at ease, glanced back to Deku. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking. What the alpha could see were flickers of intrigue, flickers of nervousness. He couldn’t tell anything beyond that.

Eventually, the omega’s eyes trailed back to Katsuki. “Well? You said we’re going on a tour, right?”

Katsuki bit at the inside of his cheek, gestured outward. “This is the living room. Playpen for the pups there. Kitchen’s through that arch. Dining room’s on the other side. There are a couple offices under the staircase some of the pack use for paperwork or if they just want some time to themselves. C’mon. I’ll show you.”

He led Deku through the bottom level, pointing out everything, letting him take everything in. Deku walked through every room, inspecting with a critical eye. He kept a second eye on Kazue, who zipped in and out of the rooms with them, trying off and on to drag both alpha and omega into play. Katsuki was too nervous to engage much, though Deku let the pup pull him along, let him tell all the stories he had of all the things he’d done in each of those rooms.

He took the most pride in climbing into his seat at the dinner table, proclaiming he had a “grow up seat.” Deku hummed in response, but his eyes flickered over each of the chairs gathered at that table. Counting them out.

When the pup finally raced away, he turned to Katsuki, asked his first question since arriving, “How many people did you say live here?”

“There’s fourteen who live here, not including you and Kazue,” Katsuki said, counting them off as he named them by group, “Three omegas, five betas, four alphas, two pups. But there’s also a few others who come in from time to time. For now, we’ve asked them to stay away while you get settled, with one exception. Shinso’s heat is coming up in a couple weeks and he wants to have it here with Kaminari. We thought you’d be okay if it was just another omega in the house, especially since you won’t see him much.”

Deku was still looking around, as if he was trying to avoid Katsuki’s gaze. He gave a shrug. “If I’m even here anymore.”

Katsuki tried to catch his eyes, but he refused to meet him still. “Right.” He nodded out of the room. “Let’s go upstairs next.”

Despite Kazue being comfortable around stairs, Deku picked him up and carried him, letting out some calming scent to keep him from being so wound up. By the time they reached the second floor landing, the pup was nuzzled on his chest, purring contently.

First, Katsuki gestured up the last staircase. “The entire upper floor is comprised of a gym and Quirk training area.” Deku tilted his head curiously, Katsuki suddenly realizing that despite being Quirkless, the gym might still be a place he’d be interested in if only to watch the other heroes. He gestured to the door in front of them, opened it to reveal the pack room. “Here’s our communal nest. Betas use it all the time, but you’d be welcome here anytime too.” As Deku peered inside, he gestured down the hall. “Beta rooms and my room are on that side of the house. When you’re ready, I’ll show you to the room the omegas set up for you and Kazue.”

The pup’s sudden gasp drew both omega’s and alpha’s attention. “Mommy, Mommy! Let’s go see our room!”

“Just a moment.” Deku stepped into the pack room, stared up and around at everything within.

Katsuki paused, curious as to why the omega was taking such an interest in the room. He knew the omegas sometimes used this room as a pseudo-nest, that Tsu had once even spent a heat in this room, but he didn’t know why Deku would seem so enamored with it. But he still watched, silent, as the omega ran a hand over one of the plush pillows, saw as his eyes widened, how he leaned in a little and rubbed his cheek against the soft cushion.

After a moment, he rose, stared forward vacantly, unfocused. Sad? What would make him sad?

Kazue, watching his omega, chirped suddenly, startling Deku, who blinked as if coming back to himself. The pup buried himself in his chest, his signature pout on his lips.

“Why does this room make everyone so sad?” The pup growled, then snarled at the pillows. “I don’t like this room!”

Deku, however, only blinked. “ ‘Makes everyone sad?’ ” He repeated, turning a questioning glance to Katsuki.

The alpha shifted, growled. “Don’t worry about that. You want to see your room?”

Deku tilted his head to the side, shifted Kazue to his other hip, the pup rubbing against him, trying to soothe him. “Lead the way.”

They made their way down the hallway, Katsuki pointing out the different rooms, who lived where and with who else.

“This was a spare guest room, but Tsu, Uraraka, and Jiro made it a bit more comfortable for you two.”

“They didn’t have to do that,” Deku said. “We are just guests after all.”

“Yeah, well, I think they wanted a fellow omega to feel welcome.” He stopped at the door at the end of the hall, stood aside. “All right. We’re here.”

Deku wrinkled his nose at the door, glared at it, seemed to judge it, but an excited chirp from Kazue finally had him reaching for it. Truth be told, Katsuki hadn’t checked the room since the omegas had prepared it, so he was just as surprised as omega and pup to find it fully decked out in hero merchandise. Floor to ceiling, from figurines to posters and even a Pinky-themed bean bag. The entire room was flooding with flashy logos and figures striking power poses.

Katsuki took one look inside, and rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

“I’m going to kill them.”

He hadn’t dared to look at Deku’s reaction, but he couldn’t avoid hearing the slight snicker in his voice, “I’m guessing you told them I liked heroes.”

“Yes, so they wouldn’t get weird if you were a bit awkward meeting them. Not for…,” he gestured without actually looking up, “this.”

“You don’t sound too surprised.”

“I would be a fool to be surprised by anything at this point.”

Deku chuckled while Kazue suddenly snorted. “Kacchan, why isn’t your room this cool?”

Katsuki growled shortly. “I’ll help you get rid of it—”

“No!” The omega sounded so defensive that Katsuki looked up, surprised to see a familiar pout on his face. “We’ll keep it. It’s cool after all, isn’t it, firecracker?” Kazue chirped in agreement.

For a moment, Katsuki stood a little dumbfounded, unbelieving that the omega was actually okay with the room. He didn’t quite know what to chalk it up to, eventually muttering, “Still a nerd, then.”

“Well sure!” Deku smirked at him. “Not even you could change that.”

Even as he said it, Katsuki knew what the omega meant, that not even his betrayal could change that part of him, the part that loved heroes and everything they stood for. But Katsuki also knew there was something deeper. Something the omega might never admit to him. The fact that he knew Deku had told Kazue that he, Katsuki Bakugo, Ground Zero, was his favorite hero. There was too much to unpack in that thought, let alone that Deku had kept his love for heroes after all this time. So he gave it no voice, gesturing instead toward the closet.

“Anyway. Each room has an oversized closet if you wanted to build your nest in there, and a secondary closer to hang clothes. I assume you brought stuff from your nest?”

Deku snorted. “That’s a rather private question to ask.” Katsuki blinked, realized his mistake, but Deku had already moved on. “Your pack didn’t supply anything?”

The alpha shook his head. “The omegas said presenting nesting materials was more a ‘welcome to the pack’ sort of gesture. They wanted to respect your decision, so no nesting materials.”

Deku glanced around the room, his eyes lighting up with understanding. He nodded. “So, no nesting materials. Just hero merchandise.” Katsuki growled again, but Deku just laughed. “At least the bed’s just a normal color.”

He reached for the navy blue bedding, paused as his fingers sunk into it. Katsuki watched closely, remembering the omegas had purposefully gotten him nice bedding in lieu of nesting materials, though after seeing Deku’s reaction, he wondered if the omega would take it as one in the same. He was preparing to step in, to say something, but Deku just ran his hand over the cover, dropped Kazue onto it. The pup didn’t seem as fascinated as Deku, who picked up one of the pillows, sniffed it, rubbed his cheek along it.

Unsure what to do, Katsuki cleared his throat. “Is… everything okay?”

The omega didn’t jolt, didn’t startle. He just set the pillow down. “No. I mean, yeah. It’s fine. It’s just… so soft.”

A pit of cold guilt uncurled from Katsuki’s stomach. It had been long enough since he’d felt it that he’d almost forgotten it was there. But it made itself known and roared awake as pieces began to fit together, as Katsuki began to understand why Deku was reacting this way.

The truth was, even when he’d been living with his mom, Deku had never been very well off. Katsuki had always given him nice things in the past, but those things had been the nicest that Deku had ever owned. Since losing his mom and having his pup, no doubt he’d had no extra funds for very nice bedding or even nice nesting material. The bareness of his apartment hadn’t necessarily been by choice – just a lack of funds to decorate with anything beyond the few photos he had. The pack, meanwhile, consisted of all heroes paid quite generously by the government. Katsuki knew he and Todoroki made quite a bit more than some of the others admittedly, that he alone probably made more than Deku did several times over. Deku hadn’t expected such things because he’d always known them as a luxury, something out his reach, while Katsuki had seen them as just a given. Of course an omega would have nice bedding, of course he’d have good materials for his nest. Why wouldn’t he?

Maybe it was cruel, then, to do this to him. To offer him things he’d have a hard time getting on his own. It didn’t feel right to flaunt in front of him. To give him something he’d only have if he stayed with the pack. Maybe they were doing this all wrong. Maybe they were manipulating Deku, even if they didn’t have any intention of doing so.

Maybe they were doing so much more harm than good.

Even as Katsuki dwelled on the idea, Deku suddenly turned to him. His eyes were bright again and he seemed more sure of himself. He put a hand on his hip. “You going to bring our stuff in or what?”

That jerked Katsuki out of his thoughts, had him hurrying to set Deku’s luggage in his new room.

Chapter Text

Deku insisted that he wanted to meet everyone, even knowing that meant being introduced to twelve new people all within a relatively short among of time. It was decided that Iida and Uraraka would come to the house first since Iida was pack alpha and Deku had already technically met him. After that, the omegas would come home, then the betas, though having them come all at once made Katsuki nervous, then Todoroki and Yaoyorozu, and finally, Kirishima would bring the pups home. It was a lot, but Deku listened as Katsuki explained it all and nodded once.

“Let’s do it,” he simply said.

It was hell waiting for Iida and Uraraka to arrive. Katsuki sat next to Deku on the couch, arms crossed, knee bouncing incessantly, trying not to growl more and more as the time went on. Deku, meanwhile, had taken one of Kazue’s toys from their bags and was calmly playing with the pup, totally engrossed in the activity. Katsuki tried to distract himself by watching them, but found his attention on the clock more frequently than on either omega or pup.

When there finally came a knock at the door and it opened with a quiet “Hello!” from Uraraka, Deku sat up, tense, and Kazue paused in his playing.

Katsuki, however, leaped up. “What took you so long?”

“Patience, Bakugo! It would do you good to learn some,” Iida walked right past Katsuki, or rather, he followed behind Uraraka, who rushed over to the other omega excitedly.

“It’s so nice to meet you finally! Kazue’s talked so much about you,” the omega chirped happily as Deku stood to greet her.

“Oh, thanks. Nice to meet you too…?”

“Oh, sorry! It’s Uraraka! Ochako Uraraka.” She offered her hand and a smile. “And your name?”

Deku shook her hand once. “Izuku Midoriya. As you probably know.”

Uraraka grinned. “Actually, Bakugo didn’t usually call you that. He used a different name—”

“Deku,” the omega shifted, “it’s a… childhood nickname.”

“Aww, it’s cute! I love it!” Uraraka clapped her hands together. “Would you mind terribly if I called you that?”

Deku blinked. “Well, uh, I—”

Katsuki growled before the omega could form words, snorted when everyone turned to him. “Don’t push it, Cheeks.”

Immediately, Deku glowered, turned back to Uraraka. “Call me Deku.”

The other omega laughed as Katsuki stared slack-jawed. “Deku it is!” She gestured behind her. “This is my alpha, Tenya Iida. He said you met in the hospital?”

“Briefly,” the omega’s attitude shifted very suddenly as Iida stepped forward.

“It’s good to see you again. You’re looking better.”

“I am better,” Deku sighed, glanced down as Kazue grabbed his leg, staring up at the alpha untrustingly. “Not one hundred percent, obviously, but well enough.”

Iida nodded, smiled tentatively. “We’ll take well enough. Hopefully you’ll find our packhouse a healing environment. Or, at the last, that you’ll find some relaxation here.”

“We’re here to help you out as much as you need,” Uraraka added, a little bounce to her figure.

Deku glanced between them, judging. A tilt came to his head, a smile to his lips, though something about it made the hair on the back of Katsuki’s neck prickle.

“Thanks. If you don’t mind though, I’d like to ask a question of you.”

“Of course!” There was a hopeful, patient smile to the alpha and omega pair. “Feel free to ask anything.”

Deku nodded, then crouched down to Kazue. With his omega’s attention on him, the pup looked up curiously, focused as Deku smiled at him. “Listen firecracker, you know all those great hero figurines in our room?”

“Yeah!” The pup chirped happily.

“I need you to do me a big favor and go get your favorite one.”

Kazue blinked, pouted. “Just one?”

“Only one.” Deku smiled at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t think you can pick one.”

The pup whined quietly. “Mommy, that’s hard!”

“Yeah, it is. But you can do it, can’t you?” When Kazue’s pout deepened to a frown, Deku raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you still need help making big boy decisions?”

Immediately, Kazue leaped upward, racing toward the staircase. “I’ll get the best one, Mommy!” He shouted into the void as he scurried up the stairs. Deku’s eyes remained on him, watching for him to slip, then watching to make sure he was actually going to their room, finally listening for their door to open and close before turning back to Iida and Uraraka.

The alpha and omega pair seemed unconcerned with what had just happened. Katsuki knew that now Kazue wasn’t in the room, the omega had no intention of holding back, and he felt a bit of dread twisting in his stomach as Deku took in a breath and asked his first question.

“Just to clarify first, you said you’re the pack’s alpha, right?”

Iida nodded. “Yes, of course! I have been since it was formed.”

“And Kirishima is the head beta?”

“Yes. He’s also held his position since the beginning.”

“Right,” Deku seemed a little smug, though that wasn’t exactly right. Whatever it was, it prepared Katsuki for when the omega said next, “I’d like you to explain to me exactly why you and Kirishima decided not only to ask me to join your pack but why you’re okay with me staying in your packhouse after I refused to join. Because I know, had I been any other victim of any other crime, I wouldn’t have been given this option. No matter the circumstances.” He paused, let the question linger as Iida and Uraraka glanced at each other. “I guess my real question is, what’s your end goal with bringing me into the house?”

Iida seemed more than a little startled, standing completely stunned silent. However, Uraraka only blinked once. Then, she smiled. Reached forward to take Deku’s hand. Even at her smile and her touch, Deku remained on edge. The other omega was unconcerned by his lack of reaction. “You’re worried that we’re not focused on you as a person, that to us, you’re just the second part of Katsuki’s pup.” As the other omega spoke, Deku lost some of his confidence, gained a bit of a shake to his hand. As he did, Uraraka squeezed that hand, stilled his shivering. “I know you asked Iida this, but let me tell you that you’ve been introduced to our lives because of Katsuki and Kazue, but we’re so happy to have gotten the chance to meet you! The real you. Not just the omega to Katsuki’s pup.” The omega smiled, and Deku seemed to shift, seemed to parse through her words, his lips thinning.

“Uraraka is completely right, as she often is,” Iida touched his glasses. “We recognize that obviously you’ve been brought to our attention through your connections with our second in command and his pup, but we’ve also been made aware that you aren’t in current relations with Bakugo.” Iida stuttered as Uraraka sharply elbowed him without losing her smile. “An-anyway, our choice to invite you to join was in recognition of those connections and our wanting you and Kazue to feel welcome despite no longer associating with Bakugo. Our allowing you to stay here without joining is actually just how we run the pack. I don’t know what all Bakugo has mentioned, but we have several independent and unofficial pack members who come and go as they please. Our work as heroes can be stressful, so we’ve found it’s important to be able to offer support when needed but we also keep mind of any boundaries someone may have.”

Deku nodded, his lips still thinned, his expression guarded. He carefully slipped his hand out of Uraraka’s. “That’s all well and good. But you still haven’t answered my question.” He gazed between the two, focused to a sharp point. “What, exactly, do you want from me?”

For a moment, there was silence. Iida looked to Uraraka, perhaps trying to gain some insight from her, but the other omega seemed confused. Even Katsuki wasn’t exactly sure how to answer that question.

The pack alpha cleared his throat, showing just a bit of his nervousness, Deku immediately glaring at him, sensing the weakness. “I’m not sure I understand your question, to be honest.”

“Well let me clarify then,” there was no hesitation in the omega’s words. “Are you wanting to collect me? Keep me quiet? It would look bad for your second in command if I went to the media about some of the things he’s done. Even for some of the things your pack has done. So, is this your way of covering that up? Of making sure things keep running smoothly for your pack?” He paused but nobody said anything, nobody even moved, save for Deku, who took careful stock of each of them, searching for an answer. “People keep saying they just want me to be safe. And maybe to some extent, that’s part of it. But there is more. I know there’s more. I can feel it. So just tell me,” his glare landed on Iida, stayed. “What do you want from me?”

Again, there was silence, Iida opening and closing his mouth, trying to gather his words. It was, again, Uraraka who spoke first, “Maybe,” she said softly, her voice low, unflinching even as Deku’s eyes snapped to her. “You can let us know what you would like from us. What your expectations are. Then, we can agree on what each of us want and what we can do together.”

Deku’s nose twitched. His gaze briefly flickered to Katsuki, before returning to Iida and Uraraka. “I want what’s best for my pup. I don’t ever want him to have to see something like that again, or be that scared again, or hurt in that way…,” he shivered, lost some of the fire in his eyes. Dropped his gaze for the first time. “I just… don’t want to have to worry. I just want… to live my life in peace.”

The more Deku spoke, the more Katuski felt rooted in place, felt frozen by the guilt once again clawing at his stomach. How could his requests be so simple yet so complicated? What couldn’t it be easy for him to live a happy, healthy life while giving the best for Kazue? He’d worked so hard to try to achieve that. Had sacrificed so much to just get to where he was. And within moments, it had all been taken away from him. And now, here he was. Clawing back for any semblance of the life he’d fought for. But there were so many obstacles in his way. That bastard alpha, Kazue’s welfare, the pack, Katsuki, even his own inner turmoil and hurt.

Katsuki knew the pack couldn’t fix all of that. He wasn’t even sure there was much they could do to help Deku achieve what he really wanted. Not in any way the omega wouldn’t see as underhanded and invasive. He’d had to fight for everything up until this point, after all. Why would this be any different?

Why would anything be that simple?

Even as Katsuki struggled with what to say, he was surprised to see that Iida and Uraraka shared a look, relaxed a little more.

“We can certainly work with that,” the pack alpha spoke with the most confidence he’d had for the entire conversation thus far. “Here is what our pack can offer you and Kazue, without your having to join: we can offer child care when you require it, we can offer a safe shelter until you are comfortable with returning home, and we can offer you the opportunity for a more controlled entrance back into your life and an easier path to reach your goals. You can think of us as a safety net. In return, we ask only that you are cordial to our pack members when interacting with them and that if you never decide to join the pack, that you will consider allowing us to extend an offer to join to Kazue when he is older. You and Kazue would always have an option to join, of course, but I’d like the opportunity for him to decide for himself when he gets to an appropriate age.”

Iida adjusted his glasses, a natural action, the pack alpha in his element. Negotiations were his specialty, after all. It was something that had always made him a good pack alpha for so many strong wills and personalities. Although from the closed-off look in Deku’s face, Katsuki wasn’t sure it was going to be effective in this instance.

Nevertheless, Iida went on, “That is something we can discuss at a much later date. I wouldn’t expect to have any conversation of the sort until he was at least out of school, but just so we have everything on the table, it is something I would like to propose for a future date. Other than that, we don’t ask anything in return.”

Deku pursed his lips, his expression still unreadable. He studied the two, then popped his mouth. “I don’t particularly like that answer.”

Iida balked at his response, but Uraraka giggled beside him. “I’m not surprised,” she said, much to the shock of both alphas, “and I understand. It’s a little overwhelming here, even if you’re used to the pack. I couldn’t imagine trying to figure it all out being essentially strangers with everyone here.” She reached for Deku’s hand again, but this time, she didn’t take it. Nor did she seem expectant for Deku to reach for her. “We are a big pack of strong personalities and powerful heroes, in almost every sense of the word. I bet you feel like you don’t really have a choice in accepting our help or have a say in how we offer that help. That we’ll either force it on you or we’ll manipulate the situation to serve our wants. That now that you’re on our radar, you’ll always have to live in our shadow or you’ll have to live with us to get to live a real life at all. And I’m sure Katsuki being around so much hasn’t helped any.”

Katsuki snapped toward the omega. “Hey!”

She kept going without once acknowledging him. “And maybe you won’t believe me when I say this, but that’s not the case. We won’t demand anything from you. We won’t rescind our support if you do something we don’t like. We aren’t going to use our influence to control or overpower you. That isn’t what we’re about.”

She pulled back her outstretched hand only to press it to her chest. “It must have been very hard trying to raise Kazue on your own. I know you must have fought so hard for yourself and your pup. Let us help make that fight a little easier. If you need someone to help watch Kazue, for example, you can count on us! Someone’s always here to watch our pups and we already know they all get along, so it wouldn’t be a big deal. If you decided you wanted to go home and live independently, excellent! We’ll make sure you have everything you might need to live happily and safely in your own place. If you need some financial help, we have more than enough to offer some assistance. Just whatever you need. You let us know and we’ll do what we can to help.”

In all honesty, Katsuki was impressed that Uraraka kept speaking. Because the more she talked, the more Deku’s careful guardedness began to chip away, revealing a mounting fury set in slanting eyes and gnashing teeth.

When the other omega quieted, Deku clenched his fists. “Don’t patronize me,” he growled. “I’m not helpless. I’m not weak. I know I’m not. I’ve done well for myself without your help for this long. Don’t think for one second that I need your help to survive!”

The force of the omega’s words had both Iida and Katsuki shifting uneasily. As the alphas, it was in their nature to step up and lead the pack in times of conflict, either external or internal. In any other given situation, it would be their duty to relieve the tension, to make everything better, to make the decision that would return them to normal. In this case, they both knew there was nothing either of them could say that would right this. If they stepped in, Deku would see it as a challenge to his autonomy. Nothing they could do or say would change that.

So even as they stood, helpless, they turned to the other omega in the room, as Uraraka confidentially stood up to Deku’s accusations. She never once flinched. She never once looked down on him. She never once let the smile on her face slip away.

Once Deku had said his piece, she reached out her hand once more, let it hang between them. “I wouldn’t say you’re weak, Deku. I don’t think anyone would say that.” Her smiled softened, understanding in his eyes. “Life’s not really all that fair, is it? Sometimes you have to fight so hard to get the simplest things and sometimes you have to watch people you love struggle and it’s just not fair. Not when other people can just snap their fingers and find success. But you know what I’ve found?” She let the question linger, even though Deku clearly was not going to respond. “I’ve found out that it doesn’t invalidate your struggle to accept help. It doesn’t make you weak to find a shortcut. But it also doesn’t make things fair just because you find a way to circumnavigate the system you’ve been in for so long.” She tilted her head, stared off, thoughtful. “For example, it’s okay for parents to accept help from their daughter. It’s okay for her to offer that help. It doesn’t invalidate either of their struggles to do that.” She turned back to Deku, who was still and silent and guarded once again. “It’s not fair that we can snap our fingers and give you some of the things you’ve been fighting so hard for. But it doesn’t make that fight mean nothing. You still fought. You still won.”

She met his gaze, looked at him proudly, with a bit of a spark in her eyes. “Just think of it this way: you’re family now! We’re not going to give up on you. We’re going to want to try to help you out, no matter what. But we don’t want to change you. You make our family what it is. So just think of us as a bunch of crazy step-brothers and step-sisters!” She giggled. “I know family can be complicated, just ask Todoroki about that, but we’re here and if you'll have us, we want to be a part of your family, too. We’ll respect your decision on how you’d like to interact with the family from here on out. Just respect that we want the chance to offer you some help when you need it. Okay?”

Deku’s eyebrows twitched. For as desperate as Katsuki was to know what the omega was thinking, he simply couldn’t tell. It was awkward in that room. No matter how relaxed Uraraka seemed, the tension between the alphas and the omegas and Deku and everyone else made Katsuki’s neck prickle.

That tension only snapped when a small chirp drew everyone to Kazue as the pup rushed over from the staircase, edged around Iida and Uraraka, to grab for Deku. “Mommy, I couldn’t decide on a favorite!” He stuck out his lip in a little pout.

Deku stroked his hair, glanced to Uraraka’s hand. He didn’t take it, but he considered it hard, each second ticking quietly by. Eventually though, his expression softened. He bent to scoop up Kazue, the pup’s eyes going to Iida now that he was more level with the alpha, watching him untrustingly. Uraraka grinned brightly as Deku nodded to her, lowered her hand, and stepped forward, cooing to the pup as she had while Deku had been in the hospital.

The two alphas, now forgotten, felt the calming shift in the air, the settling of estranged feelings. Katsuki watched as Deku and Uraraka helped to reassure him it was okay he hadn’t been able to pick out a favorite figurine, while the pack alpha looked silently and proudly on.

It was a good moment.

A wonderful moment.

And although it was a little painful for Katuski to recognize he didn’t have a place in that moment, he was simply happy to see Deku accepting at least Uraraka. He knew the omega needed someone to support him and the other omega was one of the best to take up that role. He was happy, then, to stand back, to watch as things found their place and made their beds and calmed for the moment.

After all, they still had a lot of the pack to get through that afternoon.

The thought had Katsuki feeling exhausted and if not for the little smile that peeked out of Deku’s lips as Uraraka tickled Kazue, he might have felt helpless. Instead, he felt empowered, righted. That everything would be okay. Somehow, it would all be okay.

- - -

Once Deku had settled with Uraraka and Iida, the pack alpha retreated into an office to see to some sort of administrative tasks for the agency while the other omega took a seat next to Deku, asking first if he was okay with her joining him. Katsuki, meanwhile, called Tsu and Jiro and told them they could come and meet Deku.

He supposed the first meeting hadn’t been a resounding success, but honestly he wasn’t hoping for anything of the sort and at this point, he was going to be happy if Deku didn’t end up punching someone by the end of the day. He’d take that win. But he had bets on Kaminari or Sero coming out on the loser’s end of that bet.

For the other two omegas, he was hoping for a bit of a smoother transition, especially seeing as how Deku had seemingly accepted Uraraka’s presence. He could tell they weren’t best friends, but they were cordial. Deku let her play with Kazue without too much of a fuss. Kazue stayed primarily on Deku’s lap, though he did tumble around the couch a bit, talking nonstop about just about anything and everything.

Jiro arrived first, took one glance at Deku, nodded at him, said “S’up. Cute pup,” then walked straight up the staircase without another word. At first, Deku looked curiously after her, but he seemed happy with the casual introduction, even though he did have to ask Uraraka what her name was.

Tsu at least came over and shook Deku’s hand, introducing herself properly to the omega. “My name is Tsuyu Asui, but call me Tsu.”

Deku smiled politely. “It’s good to meet you, Asui.”

The other omega stared at him. “Tsu.”

“Ah, right.” Deku paused as Kazue reached for her, playing with her hair. Eventually, she sat on Deku’s other side, letting the pup attempt to tie knots in her hair, even after Deku tried to reprimand him several times.

With the omegas home and settled and everyone still quite happy with how things were going, Katsuki took a deep breath and texted Kirishima to let him know the betas could start coming home.

They’re going to come one at a time, right? He asked the head beta.

Kirsihima responded with the laughing-crying emoji.

Within the next half hour, Katsuki had to physically brace himself against the couch as the door rattled ominously, then burst open as Mina flew into the room.

“Ohmygosh!” She shrieked in delight and rushed over the couch, Deku immediately tensing as she thrust a hand into his face. “I can’t believe you’re actually here!! It’s so wonderful to meet you!”

Sero suddenly shoved Mina out of the way, nearly pushing the female beta over. “Chill out, Mina, you’re way over the top right now.”

“Aww, but I’m just so excited!”

“Stand back everyone,” Kaminari slid to a stop in front of Deku, wearing what could only be called a shit-eating grin. “I’ve got this handled. I know how to deal with these things.”

Deku narrowed his eyes. “I know you didn’t just refer to me as a thing.”

Kaminari froze, as did Sero and Mina.

Then, the other two betas crashed into Kaminari, berating him for insulting the omega, Kaminari insisting over and over again that that was not what he meant, the other betas threatening loudly to tell Shinso and Kaminari begging them not to. As they fought, Shoji walked around them, crouched down a little and held out a hand to introduce himself, Deku seemingly grateful for the last beta’s composure.

Watching the three other betas still arguing with one another, Katsuki very suddenly realized it wasn’t Deku who was in danger of punching someone.

A hand on his arm startled him, though he didn’t draw away as he realized it was Deku, the omega looking up at him.

“Hey,” he said, offering a smile, “I’m okay. It’s not bothering me.”

Katsuki watched the omega, but he knew Deku wouldn’t lie to him. Perhaps he’d gotten out what he needed to with Iida and Uraraka, but the alpha couldn’t quite figure out how he was okay with the madness going on, especially since there were so many people in the room now.

But then, he realized it wasn’t the amount of people in the room. It was where everyone’s attention was. Even Shoji now had turned to trying to calm the three other betas, Tsu and Uraraka as well consumed with watching the three continue to bicker. Only Katsuki’s attention remained solely on Deku, with Kazue laying in his lap, tracing patterns on his chest. For as crazy as the betas were, they kept Deku out the spotlight. And that made it a little more comfortable for everyone, despite the awkward circumstance.

Katsuki could accept this, but he still wasn’t happy when Mina suddenly went flying backward, landing in a heap that had the betas freezing for a moment, then all three of them hurried over to her as she let out a dramatic whine.

Eventually, the betas settled enough to get their names out one at a time and without too much snipping between them. Kaminari apologized profusely, though Deku remained skeptical of him. Uraraka eventually shooed them off, asking them to start making dinner, though Katsuki groaned at the thought of the four of them cooking anything. Thankfully, Shoji offered to take the lead and the three others agreed to follow him. Hopefully that meant there wouldn’t be any fires. Or at least, none they couldn’t handle until Todoroki arrived home.

Speaking of the alpha, he and Yaoyorozu were the last ones due home, besides the pups and Kirishima. To say Katsuki wasn’t worried about Deku’s reaction to the alphas would be an outright lie. He was extremely worried, especially considering Kazue still didn’t typically accept being around them.

Even so, he called them up, told them it was okay for them to come home. Within ten minutes, they walked through the front door.

As the alphas entered the room, Deku immediately tensed, eyes blown wide, searching for the source of the alpha scents. At the reaction of his omega, the once-sleepy Kazue jolted to alertness, clinging to Deku’s shirt as the alphas stepped into the house.

“We’re home,” Yaoyorozu said, then she spotted Deku on the couch. Despite the omega watching her carefully, perhaps with a similar untrusting glare to the one Kazue gave her, she stepped forward and said, “Momo Yaoyorozu. Welcome to our humble abode.”

Deku smiled, perhaps more than a little ironically. “Izuku Midoriya.”

Yaoyorozu nodded, gestured to Todoroki. “This is my mate, Shoto Todoroki.” The other alpha gave a little nod of acknowledgement, but otherwise stayed still, studying Deku carefully.

When his eyes lingered for a bit longer than anyone else’s had, Katsuki felt something crawl up his spine and he let out a little growl. Todoroki’s gaze flicked to him momentarily, if only to acknowledge that he was aware of Katsuki’s displeasure, but then immediately returned to Deku.

Katsuki deepened his snarl, let his growl out a little louder, but practically yelped when something hit him in the stomach, knocking him out of his focus. Deku was glaring up at him. “You do not get to growl territorially over me, Katsuki Bakugo. I mean that! Don’t you even think about it.”

Instead of responding normally, Katsuki growled and snapped back at the omega, who didn’t flinch, only glared hard at him, and he sulked away several steps, though he stayed close enough to watch as things unfolded. Yaoyorozu shook her head and offered an apologetic smile to Deku while Todoroki raised an eyebrow at Katsuki before turning to the conversation between female alpha and male omega.

Despite Deku’s initial uncertainty, the two immediately hit it off, speaking at length about their unusual gender statuses, both being in the very small minorities of their secondary genders. It was good for Deku to have someone like Yaoyorozu to connect with, especially since there were no male omegas who regularly stayed at the packhouse. She was going to be the closest to understanding any strange particularities of being in such a minority.

Seeing things were going well, Katsuki texted Kirishima to bring the pups home. He responded with a crying emoji that had the alpha rolling his eyes.

When the head beta literally kicked in the front door and collapsed in a heap with the pups at his heels, nobody gave him much of a glance. Takahiro tottered over to his parents while Fumiko planted her feet into Kirishima’s back and stood proudly over his unmoving body.

“I win!” She proclaimed loudly, then spotted her mother and leaped off the beta. “Mama, look! I won!”

“Oh,” Uraraka picked up Fumiko and set her in her lap, right next to Deku and Kazue. While Deku took interest in their exchange, Kazue remained contently laid out on his omega’s chest. “What did you do today?”

Fumiko smirked and immediately began telling on Kirishima for letting them eat lots of lots of sweets while they had been with him.

It was… so normal. Circumstances being what they were, things felt typical. Almost natural. And sitting right in the middle of it all, Deku fit right alongside everyone else.

It was weird to see him there on one level. For the omega to be sitting amongst his pack as they went about a rather typical weekday evening. But it was also strange. Slightly out of place. And Katsuki still couldn’t quite decide what the omega was thinking or feeling, Deku remaining at least a little guarded even as the pack moved around him. Mostly, he sat and he watched everything around him and he comforted and played with Kazue when the pup grew restless.

When Mina excitedly called that dinner was ready without any incidents, Uraraka went to get Iida and everyone else migrated to the dining room.

The table was very clearly instantly intimidating for Deku. So much so that Yaoyorozu nodded toward the living room. “Would you like to join Todoroki and I in the other room?” She offered. Todoroki paused, glanced at his seat, clearly thought about not going along with them, especially when Deku hesitated, though he agreed once Uraraka also offered to go with them. Deku glanced at Katsuki, then scooped up Kazue and followed them back into the living room.

As the two omegas, two alphas, and three pups took their food away, Kirishima glanced to Katsuki.

“So, how’s it going?”

Katsuki growled, didn’t answer. That wasn’t a question for him. It was a question for Deku. He wasn’t about to even try to answer it. Truth be told, it seemed to be going well. But he couldn’t be certain. And it was only the first night. Time would tell how things were actually going. Until Deku had actually settled, Katsuki wasn’t going to take anything for granted. He simply couldn’t.

He sat in silence and ate his food, and found he deeply missed Kazue being at his side for dinner.

- - -

It was quickly apparent that Katsuki was not going to get sleep that night, so much so that he considered going upstairs to try to physically exhaust himself. He would have, save for the fact he knew people could hear someone working out upstairs and with Deku also trying to sleep for the first time in the house, he didn’t want to offer any sort of distraction to him.

So, he sat up, scrolled through his phone, came to the conclusion that he was just going to have to be okay with getting no sleep, and to the fact that his bed was so much bigger than he remembered it being.

The absence of Kazue’s nest and the quickly fading scent of the pup was what unsettled Katsuki most. The idea of his pup and Deku being in the packhouse with him at that very moment, just down the hallway, made him feel all sorts of things, though what exactly those were, he couldn’t name. All he knew was that he liked the idea, but he was also deeply unsettled by it. It was going to take him a long time to come to terms with everything that had happened.

Mostly though, he felt a small part of him mourning for his pup. He’d grown used to Kazue being at his side. Even if he was nearby, it already felt so wrong not having him in his nest beside him. But that was something he was just going to have to get used to. The pup was always going to choose his omega over him. And he was okay with that. He simply had to be. He didn’t have a choice in that matter.

Still, he did take some time to sulk a bit about it to himself.

As the clock ticked into the deep night hours, Katsuki did eventually begin to feel himself fading into sleep. He tucked his phone away, turned off his light, stared up at the ceiling. Felt his eyelids dropping lower and lower. Accepted that, while it had taken a lot longer than normal, he might actually find some sleep that night.

Before the thought had completely left his mind though, something crashed into his door, didn’t quite open it.

Somehow, Katsuki knew what it was, even before the door opened, was already leaping out of bed as the door creaked open and a crying Kazue came barreling into the room.

“Hey, hey, hey, shh, shh, shh,” Katsuki immediately picked up the little pup, holding him to his chest. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong.”

The pup was sobbing inconsolably, but he did manage to mutter out one word, “M-m-m-Mommy.”

Katsuki felt his entire being drop out of his stomach, out of his feet, into the ground below.

He raced out into the hallway, ran past every door along the way, nearly crashed into the slightly open door at the end of the hall. From within, he could hear small noises, gasps for breath, half-choked cries, whimpers and whines.

He couldn’t just wait outside.

Katsuki set Kazue on the ground, shouldered his way in. “Deku!” He called, scrambling for the light.

When he turned it on, it revealed the omega tangled helplessly in the bedsheets, having twisted and rolled up all around them, sweat darkening the sheets, dripping off the omega, his eyes rolled up in the back of his head.

Nightmares? Something else?

Either way, Katsuki crossed the room immediately, doing his best to untangle Deku and throw the sheets aside. “Hey, hey, wake up, Deku, wake up! Wake up, it’s okay! It’s okay!” He tried to pull the omega upright, but Deku let out a screech, flailed, twisted. Katsuki heard a door slam open nearby, felt wind rushing into the room.

“Katsuki!” Iida’s voice was sharp and accusatory.

Part of Katsuki was immediately insulted, but he simply didn’t have time to care. Instead, he turned over his shoulder. “Nightmare,” there was a dread in his voice, a note of despair he couldn’t keep away.

Iida, arms planted in the doorway, leg out to stop Kazue from entering, from seeing what was happening, stiffened immediately, turned over his shoulder as Uraraka appeared behind him. He stepped aside and let her rush into the room as Deku screamed again, clawing at Katsuki’s arms to try to get away.

While Katsuki tried to keep Deku from hurting himself, Uraraka immediately began wiping sweat from his forehead, running her hands through his hair, hushing him and calling him softly back to the waking world. “Deku, sweetheart, shhhh, shhhh. We’re right here. It’s okay. It’s okay, shhhh.”

Katsuki, too tried to call to Deku, aware as the pack quickly roused, as the doorway began to fill with smells, as Kazue suddenly began screaming and crying very loudly and Kirishima quickly scooped him up and took him away from the scene.

For that one small miracle, Katsuki was ever so grateful.

Because by the time they finally got Deku to open his eyes, he jerked immediately upright and let out such a scream of pain and terror that every instinct in Katsuki’s body seized, that he felt something primal rumbling in his bones and choking at his throat. He wanted to scream too. He wanted to make someone hurt as much as Deku was hurting. He wanted to let himself go and give completely into every instinct that told him to just do something.

He was lucky that Uraraka, now joined by nearly everyone else in the pack, as they had rushed forward upon Deku waking, was crowded around them, speaking encouragingly to Deku, telling him he was okay now.

Deku took one look around the room and all the people packed inside of it and screamed again, clawing backward, grasping out, finding Katsuki. He clung to the alpha, then to Uraraka, then reached out as if in search of stable ground, panting and wheezing, his eyes wide, his mouth slacked opened.

“Deku, Deku! It’s okay, it’s okay!” Katsuki tried to say, though he found his voice unsteady.

Deku seemed to look around, but not quite find him. “Ka-Katsuki—!”

“I’m here, I’m right here, Deku. Shhh, it’s okay.”

The omega found him, gripped his shoulder hard, his other hand finding Uraraka’s arm and holding on as if for dear life. He bent over the bed, both rigid and completely loose at the same time, his body shivering. “I can’t breathe!” He gasped, flailed again.

“Okay,” Uraraka planted herself right in front of Deku, turned over her shoulder and shouted, “If you don’t need to be here, then get out!”

Nobody moved.

Deku let out another scream, straight from his gut, deep and utterly agonized, Katuski nearly doubling over as the sound hit him. Even Uraraka shuddered.

“Iida!” She snapped harshly.

The pack alpha leaped upward, nearly clearing the ground. “Everyone out! Everyone! No exceptions! Let’s go, let’s go!”

At the command of their pack alpha, every slowly filtered out of the room, ushered on by Jiro and Tsu. Uraraka had them stay just long enough to request some blankets and warm, wet towels before sending them away and turning her attention fully to Deku.

“You just stay right there and don’t move, Katsuki,” she commanded.

Katsuki was too stunned to react, too in shock to do anything else. Deku’s raw pain was making him hurt in ways he had never hurt before. He knew hurt. He knew it like an old friend he was never happy to see. But this was a new pain. It had roots so much deeper than anything could ever hope to pull out, digging its way through every part of his body and soul, scrambling his mind and consuming every single thought he had.

For the first time in a while, his alpha brain was screaming at him. OMEGA IN PAIN! SAVE OMEGA! MAKE SCREAMING STOP!

But he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what exactly was happening. All he knew was that he had to be there, he had to hold Deku up. And that’s exactly what he did.

As he did, Uraraka bent over the stricken omega. Deku was still gasping for air, as if he simply couldn’t get enough oxygen to satisfy him, his eyes still wide and wild, grasping both the other omega and Katsuki in iron grips, open mouth allowing a string of saliva to trail to the bed below, joining a smattering of tears. Through all this, Uraraka pressed her hand to Deku’s cheek, lifted his chin up slightly so his eyes met hers.

“It’s okay,” she spoke very softly, but very surely, “listen to me, listen to me, you’re okay. You’re having a panic attack. Have you had one of these before?”

Deku seemed to try to puzzle out her words, his spasming breath slowing for a moment. But then, his eyes rolled up slightly and he moaned in despair.

Uraraka was quick to support him as he went limp and unsteady in their arms. “Okay, okay. Just listen to my voice. Listen, listen. Breathe with me, okay? Breathe in,” she breathed in deeply and slowly, gesturing for Deku to do the same. The omega gave a stuttering breath, gave up halfway as a whine peeled itself from his throat. Katsuki shuddered deeply, had to remind himself to keep breathing as well.

Undeterred, Uraraka tried again, “All right, all right, let’s do it again. Breathe in,” she did it again, Deku doing his best to try to follow along, though he had a lot of trouble, sobbing a couple of times in the middle. Uraraka nodded at his efforts, “And out,” she led him through on breathing out just as slowly, Deku finding more success. “Good, good. Okay. With me, again.”

She breathed in and out very slowly and steadily, always holding Deku up, never deviating from her position. Tsu and Jiro returned with the items she had requested, Jiro trying to pat the sweat still pouring from the omega’s body, Tsu expertly constructing a makeshift nest around them, swaddling the omega in some of the most comfortable blankets the packhouse had. And slowly, little by little, it worked. Deku’s breathing became smoother, his grip relaxed, his eyes drooped, and he stopped screaming.

The two omegas lingered behind Uraraka, encouraging Deku more and more as he settled, as he got control back, as his screaming turned to uncontrollable sobbing, then to quiet, subdued hiccupping, then, finally, as his body released into an exhausted slump. Through it all, Uraraka stayed right in front of him, guiding him through his breathing, always encouraging him to keep going.

When he finally seemed to fall back into himself, when he leaned heavily forward and looked so very exhausted, Uraraka ran a towel along his face, cleaned him up, hushed him softly. “You’re okay now, you’re okay.”

Deku sat back, let go of both Uraraka and Katsuki. Even without the omega leaning on him anymore, Katsuki stayed right where he was, still a little wound up himself. Seeing Deku in such immediate, terrified pain was unlike anything he’d been prepared for. It had been worse than even when he’d broken his leg while hiking. At least then, Katsuki had known what was happened, at least Deku had known what had happened. At least they had both been semi aware. This had been completely different. Something neither of them had known how to handle. Deku had never had an attack such as that in all the years they’d known each other. Then again, he supposed Deku had never been hurt as badly as he had been in recent times. Maybe they should have expected this. Maybe Katsuki should have been more prepared.

Maybe he should have done something…

As Deku sat back, Uraraka watched him, smiled when he carefully raised his eyes. “How are you feeling now?”

Deku was still trying to breathe deeply as Uraraka had guided him through, but there was a hiccup to his voice as he shook his head. “Awful.”

The other omega laughed quietly. “I’m not surprised. But are you feeling a little better at least?”

Deku nodded, ran a hand along his head. “Y-yeah…,” he glanced up at Katsuki, who didn’t really know what to do. The omega looked quickly away. “Sorry.”

“Do no apologize,” Uraraka got up from the bed, held out her hand. “Here. Let’s change the sheets for you.”

Deku took her hand and actually needed help from Katsuki to get back to his feet, still a bit unsteady. Jiro and Tsu stripped the bed and changed it from an extra set that was in Deku’s closet. Katsuki just stood, supporting Deku’s arm, feeling more than a little lost.

He felt a jab at his ribs and glanced down to see Uraraka was standing next to him. “You okay, Katsuki?”

The alpha swallowed uneasily, noticed that Deku was watching. He shook his head sharply, trying to rattle himself back to normal. “Y-yeah. I am. Just need a moment.”

Deku’s face fell slightly. His grip on Katsuki’s hand loosened slightly, until the alpha squeezed him, kept hold, ran a little circle in the back of his hand.

Uraraka was talking quietly to him, distracting him from just how much Katsuki was still rattled by what had happened. “Have you ever had a panic attack before?”

The omega shook his head. “No. Not… not like that.”

She smiled softly. “It’s okay. Lots of people in the pack get them, so we’re pretty good at helping. Most people find that someone guiding them through their breathing really helps.”

“Yeah. It did.” Deku shook his head, looked a little lost himself. “I’m… I’m just so sorry. It’s my first night here and I woke everyone up.”

Even as he spoke, Uraraka shook her head. “Deku, this is why we’re here, and this is why we want you here. It’s better you be here and have us to help you than have you try to go through that alone, okay?”

The omega considered her, nodded slowly. “R-right.”

Uraraka smiled as Jiro and Tsu came over to join them. “Do you need anything from us? Anything at all? We can sit for a little while and just chat. Just until you’re feeling well enough to try to go back to sleep.”

Deku shook his head. “No, I’m pretty tired now,” he laughed, nervous, breathless, and the omegas each tried to smile back at him, “I just… where’s my pup?”

“I think Kirishima took him out so he didn’t see anything,” Uraraka glanced to Jiro, who nodded wordlessly and went to find him. “Here. You want to get back in bed?”

The omega nodded, let Uraraka guide him back to bed. When Katsuki tried to let go, it was Deku who held on this time, even after the other omegas had helped him into bed. However, Deku would not look up at him, no matter how long Katsuki stared down at him.

Jiro eventually reappeared with Kazue, who was sniffling and red-eyed. Only when his pup appeared did Deku let his hand fall from Katsuki’s, reaching for Kazue, wrapping him up tightly when he let out a bit of a cry. As the omega scented the little pup and tried to soothe him, the omegas went about picking up other items from the floor, Katsuki realizing they were parts of Kazue’s nest.

Seeing that things had settled down, that Deku was going to be okay, Katsuki took a step back. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to so badly. But he knew he didn’t have a place here. Not anymore. Deku was okay for the night. That was all he needed to know. They could talk in the morning. But for now, omega and pup needed some sleep.

He hadn’t gone three steps when the omega called him back with a soft, “Katsuki?”

The alpha turned quickly to him. “Yes?”

Deku didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him. Still, Katsuki lingered as the omegas used the blankets Tsu had brought in as well as Kazue’s nesting materials to build up a nest around omega and pup, telling them it was okay, they were okay here.

“I just… want to try to get some sleep.” Deku kept saying.

Eventually, once Deku had calmed significantly and Kazue’s eyes were drooped nearly closed, though the pup did occasionally hiccup still, the omegas gathered to leave.

“If you need anything, anything at all, we’re just down the hall.” Uraraka said quietly.

“Yeah, we share a wall, so just throw something, okay?” Jiro said, pointing to the far wall.

Tsu nodded as well. “We’ll be right there if anything else happens.”

Deku smiled wearily at the three, skipped past where Katsuki stood altogether. “Thank you, guys. I really do mean that.”

“Of course!” Uraraka ushered Jiro and Tsu out, but paused to lean in to Katsuki’s ear, “I’ll tell Iida and get the pack back to bed. You just be careful with him, okay?”

Although Katsuki didn’t really know what she meant, he nodded all the same and watched as the three omegas left the room, closing the door behind them. Once it was shut, rustling from the bed had him turning back to face Deku.

The omega had pulled himself out of the nest made by the other omegas, he carefully dropping it piece by piece to the floor. The entire time, he still didn’t look up at Katsuki. Katsuki watched him, didn’t move once. In the process of dismantling the nest, Kazue fell to sleep in the omega’s arms. Still, he didn’t react.

When all of the nest had been tossed from the bed, Deku slid back, kicked his legs under the blanket.

Paused, for just a moment.

“Katsuki?”

“Yes?”

The omega swallowed. “Could you… please… just… come lay down with me?”

Much longer than just a moment passed between his request and Katsuki’s eventual answer, “I, uh… do you really want that, Deku?”

“Yes.”

“Deku, I don’t—” Katsuki bit his lip, glanced around the room. Searched for something to say, something that gave him the correct answer for what to do. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You had a rough moment. That’s all.”

“Katsuki, please.”

“I just,” Katsuki ran a hand along his arm, “I don’t want you to wake up in the morning and feel like I took advantage of you while you were vulnerable.”

Deku’s eyes suddenly snapped up. Fiery. Angry. Filled with tears.

He sniffled, ran an arm under his nose. “Katsuki. Please. I just… it’s just a lot to take in. And you feel safe. So please….”

Oh. It was that. Instinct. That had to be all this was. Deku’s omega felt safe with Katsuki’s alpha nearby. Some part of the instincts they had shared for so long that still lingered, despite the time that had passed, despite everything that had happened between them in those years.

That’s all this was.

And still, Katsuki hesitated. Shifted his feet. “Are you… really sure, Deku?”

Deku snorted. “Just because I’m exhausted emotionally, physically, and mentally does not mean you can call me by that name.”

There was something about the reprimand that settled part of Katsuki. It was part of their normal. Something he’d come to expect.

So he nodded, said, “Right. Sorry.”

Deku paused for a moment longer, then met his gaze. “Katsuki, please come lay down with me tonight? Just… just for a little while at least.”

It had always been hard for him to deny Deku. It seemed the years had not changed that.

Slowly, Katsuki nodded, made his way over to the other side of the bed. He slid under the covers, waited as Deku laid back, curled up on his side with his back to Katsuki and Kazue tucked into his arms at his chest. The alpha lowered himself on the bed next to the omega. Leaned forward just enough that only his forehead rested on the back of the omega’s neck.

“I’m sorry, Izuku,” he whispered.

Deku shifted slightly. Sighed. “For what?”

“Everything.”

The omega actually rumbled with a laugh. “You know, that’s kind of a terrible list.”

But it was everything. So much so that Katsuki didn’t know where to begin.

So he took a breath in slowly. “I’m sorry you had a nightmare. I’m sorry you had a panic attack. I’m sorry you were hurt by that bastard. I’m sorry you were alone for so long. I’m sorry—” his voice caught and he ground his teeth together. Deku had gone very quiet and very still. Katsuki pressed his forehead forward a little more, found resistance from the omega and found that somehow that gave him the strength to go on, “I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty alpha. I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty human being. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened since I left. I’m sorry for all the things I could have prevented.”

He refused to sniffle, refused to show any more emotion save for taking in a long, staggered breath.

Deku was quiet. Still. So much so that Katsuki wondered if he’d fallen asleep, hoped he had.

However, he wasn’t all that surprised when the omega shifted. “If you’d stayed, I’m sure you would have still been a pain in my ass. Just in a different way.”

There was something ironic and cruel and kind in his words. They made Katsuki chuckle, despite everything. He pressed a little closer to Deku, tentatively put a hand on his hip. The omega didn’t pull away, but Katsuki didn’t dare push his luck.

“Good night, Izuku.”

Deku shifted one more time. “Good night, Katsuki.”

Katsuki had already resigned himself to a sleepless night. But somehow, with Deku and Kazue next to him, despite everything that had happened that night, he closed his eyes, and he slept soundly.

- - -

An elbow digging into his cheek had Katsuki wide awake very suddenly and with a snarl already in his voice.

Deku grumbled sleepily. “Get out.”

The alpha paused, still trying to figure out what exactly was happening, as the omega withdrew his elbow but gave him a little shove at his chest.

“Get out,” he repeated, a little more forcefully.

“Just like that?” Katsuki muttered, trying not to sound bitter.

Deku sighed, curled up around Kazue’s sleeping form a little more. “Just like that.” He paused. Turned over slightly to meet Katsuki’s gaze. “Thanks for sleeping next to me. But seriously. It’s morning now and I want to cuddle with my pup in peace. So get out.”

There really wasn’t much arguing with that.

Katsuki got out of the bed, left the room, and made it all the way to his own bedroom and into his own bed before he began grumbling unhappily.

Chapter Text

After being kicked out of Deku’s room, Katsuki dozed off and on for about an hour before going downstairs to join the pack. Simply put, it was a madhouse. He walked past Mina hurrying Kirishima along so they could get to the agency for their patrol while Takahiro and Fumiko were both screaming about something or other and Iida was limp in his seat at the dining table, snoring loudly.

An oddly normal morning.

He wasn’t sure why he was expecting anything different. Maybe it was Deku’s presence in the house alone that had him reeling or maybe it was his first night spent with the omega in five long years that had done it, but somehow, the normalcy felt out of place. Even walking among it, he felt as if he were drifting above them all, separate mentally if not physically.

As with any other morning though, everyone avoided him save for the occasional “Morning,” muttered his way. He went to the coffee pot, poured himself a cup, considered what was in their fridge. Clicked his tongue, growled, but eventually dug out some ingredients.

As he carefully put breakfast together, he kept watch for Deku and Kazue to finally make their appearance, but he saw just about everyone else from the pack and not their newest guests. Almost half of the pack was leaving to get to the agency, Uraraka pausing to shake Iida awake and drop Fumiko into his lap before hurrying out the door with Jiro and Kaminari in tow. Yaoyorozu didn’t appear, leading Katsuki to assume she had already left, and Todoroki slipped quietly out when nobody was paying attention after also nudging Takahiro toward Iida. That left him, Iida, Tsu, Sero, and Shoji to the packhouse. A fairly typical shift schedule at the agency. Katsuki was almost convinced that he should be getting ready for patrol as well. The only strange part of that day was the fact that he was, in fact, not going to be going out on patrol. That he hadn’t been out in the city for weeks now. Strange. A small sliver of proof things had stumbled along the way, that the world wasn’t completely normal, that it was okay he was feeling a little off balance.

Thankfully, there were small things he was happy to find had stayed the same, like the taste of his coffee, the ease with which he stepped around the kitchen, the fact that he could feel Sero and Shoji lingering in the archway behind him. He snapped once over his shoulder when they tried to peer at what he was making.

“This isn’t for you,” the alpha said.

Sero frowned. “That’s way more food than you can eat by yourself.”

“It’s not all for me,” Katsuki snapped his jaws, “but it sure as hell isn’t for you, either.”

The beta whined, but didn’t dare argue with him.

When everything had finished, he set up bowls, poured another cup of coffee, set everything on a tray Yaoyorozu used to serve tea. This had both betas tilting their heads in confusion, silently watching as he stepped out of the kitchen and made his way up the staircase.

He didn’t have a hand to knock, so when he reached the end of the hallway, Katsuki kicked at the door. “Oi, Izuku. You up yet?”

A short, annoyed murmur from the other side of the door was almost immediately followed by the patter of small feet on the ground and it was Kazue who opened the door. His nose twitched as he rose up on his toes, trying to see onto the tray the alpha was holding. Deku, meanwhile, didn’t look like he’d moved since Katsuki had left, still laid over on his side, curled up as if his pup was still nestled in his arms.

“C’mon,” the alpha set the tray down, pushed Kazue back when he tried to grab at the food. “I brought you breakfast. You should eat something.” When the omega didn’t move, Katsuki carefully reached across to shake him. “C’mon, Izuku.”

The omega curled up a little more, didn’t turn over to look at him. “Why did you bring that?”

“Because your arm is broken so cooking would have been difficult and it’s also,” he checked the clock on the wall, “almost nine. You need to eat something.”

“Yeah, Mommy, I’m hungry!” The pup whined.

At his pup’s whine, Deku finally stirred. He rolled onto his back, sat up. Even if he’d cut it back from when they’d been kids, his hair still stuck up at all sorts of odd angles as he rubbed his eyes, glancing between Kazue and the bowl that Katsuki was handing the pup.

“You can sit on the floor and eat or go downstairs and sit at the table,” the alpha said.

Kazue stared into his bowl, thinking. “Table.”

Katsuki nodded, though Deku grumbled, “Careful on the stairs. Hand on the railing.”

The pup nodded very seriously and carefully took his bowl out into the hallway.

As he did, Katsuki offered another bowl to Deku, pausing as the omega yawned, baring his teeth. His left canine shone, broken and jagged. Katsuki had completely forgotten about the alpha breaking his tooth, was stunned at the casual sight of it, the dread of realizing this was now the new normal, that Deku would have scars from this encounter for the rest of this life. He was jolted back to the present moment when the omega took the bowl from him.

“Did you seriously bring me breakfast in bed?”

“Sure.” Katsuki considered picking up his own bowl. Instead handed Deku a pair of chopsticks. Deku took them and stared at them, glancing between them and his right arm, still wrapped in the soft black cast. “Used to do it all the time, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” the omega snorted, “a long time ago. You know. Before you broke up with me.”

It was a little funny to think this was the first time that had been brought up in very clear words. Katsuki wasn’t sure if they’d both been dancing around that small issue deliberately or if there had simply been no room for it to come up, but here it was. Thrown into his face.

He couldn’t even say he was surprised or upset by it.

Instead, he gave a short snort of his own. “Well if it bothers you so much, then get up at a normal time and come down for breakfast.”

Deku glared at him from over the rim of his bowl, green eyes searching Katsuki’s face. Because they both knew he’d said those words many times before. Perhaps not with as much of a bite to them. But they were familiar, nonetheless.

Katsuki took up the second cup of coffee, set it on the side table. Spoke even more words they both knew, “Someone’s got to make sure you eat something.”

“Stop it,” Deku snarled suddenly. “You don’t get to do this to me.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Bullshit.” The omega none too gently tossed the bowl back onto Katsuki’s tray, uneaten. “And just to remind you, you’re the one who broke up with me.”

“And you’re the one who never bothered to mention we had a pup!”

The words came out as a snarl, a deep, angry, sorrowful growl. They came out so suddenly that Katsuki actually blinked in surprise. Where was this coming from? He hadn’t been angry. He hadn’t meant to say that to Deku. Why were those the words that had flown from his lips?

But now they were out in the open, and Katsuki was facing a stunned Deku. The omega averted his gaze, drew his knees up to his chest. Didn’t say anything else.

Katsuki, still a little stunned himself, set the omega’s bowl beside the coffee and left, closing the door behind him.

He found Kazue at the dining room table, having settled beside Shoji. The pup smiled when he saw Katsuki, patted the seat next to him. “Kacchan, Kacchan! Sit next to me!”

Katsuki took his bowl off the tray and tossed it aside. The pup watched, narrowed his eyes. “Kacchan, you shouldn’t throw things inside the house.” The alpha ruffled the pup’s hair affectionately, stared into his bowl, decidedly no longer hungry. But knowing his pup was watching, he ate, forcing himself to focus on Kazue and the food in front of him and nothing else.

Kazue was very nearly already finished with his breakfast when Katsuki arrived, so once he was done, he filled the silence between the three of them by regaling Shoji with tales from books Deku had read to him. Shoji listened and nodded at the appropriate times, asked questions, kept the pup engaged. Gave Katsuki the space to glare into his bowl, to pick at the words stuck in his teeth.

He only looked up when Kazue made a delighted noise and the alpha caught a whiff of summer breezes. Deku stood in the doorframe, empty bowl with an empty cup nestled within in his hand. His lips were pulled tight along his face, though he smiled thinly when the pup leaped out of his seat and ran over to him. “Mommy, Mommy, come sit down with us!”

“Can’t, firecracker. I have to wash my dish first.”

Katsuki got up, took up his bowl, crossed the room, and took Deku’s bowl from his hands. “Don’t get your cast wet.” He said quietly, moved away from him back into the kitchen.

He was aware of Deku following him as he tossed the remainder of his half-eaten breakfast and went to the sink, blasting the water so the noise filled up the space around them. As he cleaned up, he knew Deku was standing just behind him, watching.

Unfortunately, there were only so many dishes to clean, so little time for Katsuki to burn with his back to the omega. Eventually, he had to snap the water off, set the bowls to dry. But he didn’t face the omega. He gripped the edges of the counter, glared into the foam gathered at the drain catch.

“I’m… sorry,” the omega’s words made guilt claw up at Katsuki’s stomach, made him want to growl. But he didn’t.

He ran a hand through his hair, let out a breath through his nose.

“I should be the one apologizing. Not you.”

“But you’re right. I didn’t… tell you.”

Katsuki grabbed the hand towel hanging from a hook on the wall. “I don’t know if it would have mattered.”

“It would have given you the choice… to do something.”

“To be shitty, is what it would have done.” He scrubbed the towel along each of his fingers, being much more meticulous than he ever had been before. “I wasn’t ready to be a dad.”

Behind him, the omega let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah well… I wasn’t ready either.”

Something in the omega’s voice had Katsuki pausing. Focusing on polishing his palm. Then, he hooked the towel back on the wall, turned to face him. Deku was, maybe ironically, playing with his fingers. The ones on his right hand stuck out from the end of the cast, just barely enough for him to pick at. There was a smile on his face. Small, sad.

They were alone in that kitchen. Beyond the archway, into the empty living room and the dining room hidden behind a large pillar, he could hear only Shoji and Kazue talking, the beta asking the pup about something that had happened yesterday at the park with Kirishima. Kazue hadn’t realized that his omega and alpha had yet to return to the room, seemed content just to keep talking to Shoji.

It was better that way. This wasn’t a conversation he’d want the pup to hear. It wasn’t really a conversation even he wanted to have. But, he supposed, this was going to be one of many to come. There was a lot to talk about. A lot of baggage to sift through. Things to unpack. Kazue might not be the place he’d wanted to start, but they were standing there, staring at each other, trying to see something from the other.

Although Katsuki wasn’t honestly sure what he was looking for in Deku, he did recognize that smile. It was a smile from their childhood. A smile to hide pain, disappointment. Mostly in himself. A smile for others so they wouldn’t realize just how much the omega was berating himself. And yet, it was different. There was a twist in his lip that he didn’t recognize, something that shone in his eyes he couldn’t quite name.

So he listened as the omega shook his head, as he said, “We were so naïve back then, weren’t we? How could we think we were ready?”

Katsuki shifted. Crossed his arms at his chest. “I never thought it would happen. I always thought it was too small of a possibility.”

Deku nodded, a raise in his eyebrows admitting to the validity of his words. “I’d always hoped. I’d always wanted pups.”

“Yeah,” the more he spoke, the more the words were harder to form, “I remember.”

Quiet, save for Kazue still speaking in the background. His voice was musical, his lingering scent wonderful. His presence was more beautiful than anything Katsuki had known. He’d never thought having pups could be so wonderful and frightening and so very strange. Maybe if he had, he’d have hoped a little more, he’d have tried a little harder.

Or maybe he was just fooling himself.

“I, uh,” Deku’s voice was musical too. It always had been. A lullaby from his childhood. Something that soothed the aching, savage parts of him. So he lifted his head, listened as the omega cleared his throat, “Thank you. For breakfast. It was really good. Although,” there came a hard line to his voice, something he shifted easily into, a glint to his eyes as he turned them to glare at Katsuki, “don’t bring me breakfast in bed anymore.”

“Fine. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself. You want to get out of here sooner, you need to be eating regularly.”

The omega gave him a dry look. “Thanks, mom. Also, I can leave whenever I damn well please.”

“Sure can.” Katsuki shrugged. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

Deku dipped his chin, searched the alpha’s face. “You mean that?”

Katsuki shrugged. “Yeah, I do. Might not be happy about it, but that’s not my choice.”

“Glad you noticed.”

A peal of laughter had both omega and alpha pausing, turning to listen. Under Kazue’s voice, they could both hear Shoji laughing as well, but Katsuki knew neither of them was actually listening to him. They were listening to Kazue, to how happy he sounded, to how comfortable he seemed. To how he seemed… normal.

Like nothing had happened at all.

It was a lie, of course. A lot had happened. And even if Kazue was resilient in this moment, all he needed was for Iida to walk into the room to change that. Nothing was normal. There was just a veneer, a thin line holding everything back.

They both knew it. They both knew this couldn’t last.

And yet, they both stood and they listened to the joyful sounds of their pup.

Listening to Kazue laugh, something stirred in Katsuki’s stomach. It wasn’t the guilt he had so quickly become acquainted with. It was something else. Something that still grieved, but it was warm and felt a bit like nervous butterflies in his stomach.

It was this feeling that dragged him to step away from the sink, to close the distance between him and Deku.

“You know,” he spoke softly, so not to frighten the omega as he approached. Deku watched him carefully, but he kept still and didn’t seem scared. Katsuki came to stand right in front of him, realized that although the omega had to tilt his head up slightly to meet his gaze, he felt infinitesimally small next to him.

Because the person in front of him had actually made that wonderful laugh coming from the other room. Had crafted the bundle of life and light and warmth that had so quickly taken over so much of his existence. He’d so easily spun a miracle into the world.

“I haven’t gotten the chance to talk about Kazue with you.”

Deku pulled in a breath, Katsuki hearing it hiss between his teeth. “Okay,” he said, seemed to brace himself.

Katsuki didn’t know what the omega was expecting. He knew he had not been expecting when the alpha reached toward his stomach, the omega flinching away. Katsuki paused, but Deku blinked, very suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing, and he actually smiled. “It’s okay,” he said, taking the alpha’s hand, slowly and carefully pressed it to his stomach.

His shirt was warm, the material a little rough. But under that cloth lay Deku’s body, his womb, now long empty. But from there, he’d made something so wonderful. It was almost incomprehensible.

He’d seen both Uraraka and Yaoyorozu swell with life. Had seen the changes they went through, the hardships they endured, the sheer joy at the new bundle placed in their arms. Katsuki hadn’t gotten to see that with Deku. But he couldn’t imagine that it had been the same. Both Uraraka’s and Yaoyorozu’s pregnancies had seem so clinical. They were pregnant. They gave birth to pups. End of story.

But it couldn’t have been that simple with Deku, could it? How could that lead to the overwhelming emotion swelling in Katsuki’s own stomach now?

He took in a breath, felt as Deku pressed a hand over his.

“Katsuki, are you crying?”

It was a stupid question. A stupid question.

“Of course I am,” there was bite to his words, but not one with teeth. There was emotion and passion and overwhelming feeling. Katsuki found his knees were shaking slightly. Found his fingers trembled. He fought to keep his throat from swelling any further so he could speak. “He’s beautiful, Deku. And so fucking wonderful.” He leaned forward, overwhelmed. “Thank you. Thank you. Just thank you.”

The omega shook his head. “You’re impossible, you know.” He tilted his gaze up at the alpha, caught his eyes. “I told you not to call me that.”

Katsuki made a choking sound at the back of his throat, half a laugh, half a snarl. “You’re right. And I keep doing it. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah well,” there was a bit of smugness to his voice, “I don’t expect anything more from you. You still think of me as Deku.”

The alpha sniffled, shook his head. “You’re right.”

The omega smirked. “Yeah, of course I am.” He pressed his hand a little more over Katsuki’s. “You know, you did help with this. Just a little.”

Katsuki shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

The omega hummed. “Still. Couldn’t have done the first part without you.” He made sure to meet Katsuki’s gaze again. “And I don’t regret it. I hope you know that. I don’t regret having him.”

Part of Katsuki wanted to scream. Because he did regret it. He regretted doing his part then leaving them all alone. What he didn’t regret was Kazue. He couldn’t regret such a wonderful light in the world.

So he shook his head, drew his hand away. Twisted to grasp the omega’s, drew it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. He saw the omega’s nose wrinkle slightly, but he let him go, said, “Thank you, Izuku. I’ll be thanking you for the rest of my days.”

The omega tilted his head. Smiled, maybe smirked. “Yeah well, at least you have a long time to make sure I know you mean it.”

Somehow, it was easy to laugh at his joke. To accept his grace, even jabbed at him as it was. So he let himself laugh, felt a small spark of hope when he heard Deku laughing with him.

- - -

As he expected, Katsuki found Iida in the bigger of the two offices, the pack alpha hunched over the computer muttering to himself.

He didn’t knock, didn’t otherwise announce his presence other than to lean in and say, “Put me on the schedule.”

Immediately, Iida sat up straight, spun around, nearly slid out of his chair. “I-I’m sorry. Can you say that again?”

“I said put me on the schedule. Just not tomorrow morning. Have an appointment I have to keep.”

Iida still had his fingers curled in slightly, as if lined up on the keyboard. They twitched a little as the alpha studied him. “And… you’re sure?”

Katsuki growled. “Wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t, now would I?”

“What about Midoriya?”

“What about him?”

“You’re just going to leave him here?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes back so far they hurt. “No, I’m going to bring him with me to fight villains. Of course I’m going to leave him here! You said you’re making sure there’s always an alpha at the packhouse and that as many people as possible are around, didn’t you?”

“Well I— yes?”

“Then he’ll be fine. And if he isn’t, he knows how to get in contact with me. Or the police.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I’d be more worried about them knocking the door down than anything else.”

“Actually, it’s funny you mention them.”

It was weird to have the conversation turn so quickly. From one moment to the next, Iida went from bewildered to stern and serious. He adjusted his glasses, gestured for Katsuki to come closer. Katsuki paused for only a moment before doing so, closing the door behind him.

“Tsukauchi contacted us two days ago and requested assistance from our pack for an ongoing case. He specifically wanted you on the case. Said you had pertinent information.”

It was maybe too much to ask. There were lots of cases that the inspector worked, lots of cases that Katsuki had information on. But the hair on the back of his neck still rose up and when he turned to Iida, he noticed his vision tunneling in, saw it turning red around the edges.

“Is it the alpha?”

Iida nodded, once, sharp. “No leads on where he is yet. Just a name.”

The alpha tapped a button and the computer screen flashed and very suddenly, there he was. In his mugshot, the alpha wasn’t grinning. In fact, he was snarling deeply. But his teeth were still jagged and his hair still hung on his shoulders like thin shrouds. He still had both ears in this photo.

The name at the bottom read: Ryo Yokoyama.

Katsuki rolled that name around in his head, stomped it into the ground, chewed it up, and set it on fire.

“I initially told them that you weren’t available for any work, but if you really think you’re ready, I’ll contact Tsukauchi and see if he can see you tomorrow.”

Katsuki set his teeth in a smile. A smile he hadn’t felt in weeks now, but a smile he knew so very well nonetheless. What he knew less was the slow hiss that accompanied it. This smile knew jeers and shouts and screams of battle. This was a hiss of hatred and loathing and rage.

“Do it,” he said.

Iida nodded, once, sharp. “I’ll let you know what he says. But you should be prepared. It sounded quite serious when he called.”

Katsuki let his smile deepen, let his blood boil with the thought of chasing down the alpha, of making him pay for what he’d done to Izuku and Kazue. Snarled, and said, “Good.”

- - -

In preparation for his upcoming shift, Katsuki went into his closet and pulled out his reserve gauntlets and grenades. The truth was, he hadn’t been at the agency to keep up with his equipment and while anyone could clean it up or check to make sure it was all properly functioning, they couldn’t produce the actual components that made them work. Everything worked off of Katsuki’s sweat. He’d learned that, even with some preservatives, that sweat was only potent for a couple of days. If he didn’t wear his costume or recycle the stored sweat in his gauntlets and grenades, then they wouldn’t work when he tried to use them later. The solution: reserve equipment he maintained himself stored at the packhouse. Even they had been neglecting lately though and with the possibility he’d be spending tomorrow hunting down that bastard Yokoyama, he wanted to be ready.

And that meant he needed to work up a sweat.

The easiest solution was to wear his gear during his typical workout routine, though sometimes if he wasn’t under any time constraints or wanted to relax, he’d just wear his gauntlets and sunbathe in the gardens at the back of the house. That day, all he wanted to do was blow something up, so he pulled on his arm wraps, gloves, and bracers, threw everything else into the carrying case, and made his way upstairs.

Nobody was up there, which wasn’t unusual. People tended to work out either early in the morning or late at night. Afternoon sessions were rare, even more so with so few at the packhouse. But Katsuki preferred the solitude. It lent him the focus he needed, helped him wrestle through his thoughts. There were things that he didn’t want to have to face. But luckily, he had something he could concentrate on as he took a quick drink of water before turning to get his gauntlets.

He could think about the alpha. What he knew. What he didn’t. The threats he posed. Possible ways to incapacitate him. Things Katsuki may have noticed that he could tell the police, things that may lead to his location. Anything at all. He could carefully peel through all his thoughts about that alpha, and burn right through the fury that always accompanied them.

His gauntlets always took the longest time to fill, despite the fact that he’d long since switched from the huge, bulky gauntlets of his school years to a slimmer design, still ringing his arms, but much more manageable. Less likely to get caught on passing people or things, less likely to get in his way when he was maneuvering quickly. But still able to pack one hell of a punch. It also meant it didn’t take as long to recharge, meaning he’d been able to use them more than once during particularly grueling fights.

He attached his gauntlets, taking care to line everything up and make sure everything was in place. Then, he stepped out to the middle of the open arena.

The most important step in making sure the gauntlets were working and charging up his sweat, was always to do a little demonstration. And it had been several days since he’d flexed that particular muscle.

He grinned, spread his fingers wide in front of him, and screamed, “DIE!”

Fire and sound and force ripped through the room, had most of the equipment around him jostling, shifted in the blast. It felt good to stretch a little. Even if he could hear someone, probably Iida, screaming at him from the floor below.

Ignoring that, he let off a couple smaller explosions, sliding effortlessly back into what he knew best – his Quirk, his role as a hero, his place climbing the ranks as quickly as he could. Perhaps the transition was marred by the fact that he knew, in that house, just below where he stood, his very traumatized pup and once-partner were there, but their presence was far outweighed by the hatred he felt for the alpha who had hurt them. It was easy to slip back into his role as the hot-headed hero when he had something to train his fury toward. And he did so with reckless glee.

He, admittedly, far exceeded the tests necessary to prove his gear was still working before he stopped, turned to work on his typical routine. It felt… good to get back into what he knew best. The past couple of weeks had been hell and it was such a wonderful rush to be pushing himself once again.

He went on for half an hour, until he was hot and sweaty and panting and his blood was rushing through his body. He checked the levels in his gauntlets, found them good, and switched to similar, smaller gauntlets that had attachment points for his grenades before going back to his workout.

Forty minutes later, he stopped, his body like jelly, his thoughts run dry, yet his fury still burning in his veins.

He wanted to kill this asshole.

He wanted to make him pay.

And maybe it wasn’t all that heroic to be thinking that.

But honestly, seeing how much he had hurt Izuku, how much the omega was still suffering, he just didn’t care.

“Fuck,” Katsuki growled, snapped the gauntlets off his wrists.

He finished his workout by popping earbuds into his ears, pulling bracers over his legs and onto his knees, and getting on the treadmill. He jogged to an informational podcast on chemical interactions between different ionized elements, though he only half listened. He’d been studying such things for months now, hoping to find an interesting additive he could use to enhance certain aspects of his sweat, but he’d found this sort of chemistry to be quite a bit more complicated than what he’d learned in school. So it was slow going, especially when he was so distracted. At the end of his run, he set the podcast back and marked it for play again later.

After carefully packing his gear away and attaching an “explosive, flammable” tag on the case, he got into a cold shower to rinse off quickly, then put everything into his room and went out into the packhouse.

Surprisingly, it was extremely quiet. No signs of the pups nor anyone else. A check of the clock told him that some of the pack should be returning from shift soon, if they hadn’t already, and that second shift would be heading out. But that didn’t explain why it was so quiet.

More importantly, there wasn’t any signs of Izuku or Kazue around.

Growling, Katsuki made his way to the back of the house. The gardens out back were kept up by Tsu, Uraraka, Yaoyorozu, Shoji, and Sero mostly, though some of the other pack members had taken interest from time to time. It wasn’t unusual to see Todoroki out pulling weeds while his mate watered the flowers, for example. But there was also a sitting area big enough to fit the entire pack around a firepit that Katsuki maintained. On nice, cool nights, it wasn’t unusual to find some of the pack gathered around a fire outside, enjoying the gardens.

It was a bit early for such things, but Katsuki still went to check, hearing voices ringing from the patio, his heart settling as he spotted a patch of green hair amongst several of the pack.

He paused for a moment upon approaching the firepit, staring at Izuku. The omega had freshened up significantly. Things had happened far too quickly for him to get a proper shower the previous day, nor had he been able to get one in the hospital, but it was clear he’d spent a long time in the bathroom. His hair had been pulled under control, stylized similar to how it had been as Katsuki had seen it in the omega’s memory. He was also wearing nicer clothes than the T-shirt and baggy shorts that had been his pajamas. Instead, he had on a fitted white shirt and dark pants, along with red shoes that Katsuki had somehow missed until the very moment he saw the omega wearing them. Most significantly, he was wearing a ragged All Might jacket that the alpha knew well. He’d gifted that jacket to Izuku years ago. Seeing the omega wearing it again was strange, but so very normal. Because of course Izuku would be wearing his jacket as he had for years and years. What else would he wear? It was like imagining him without his red shoes. The image was so right.

“Uh, Bakguo?” Jiro’s voice had Katsuki blinking. The omega raised her eyebrows. “You need something?”

“You’re sure staring a bit,” Mina, seated across from Izuku, had a grin that Katsuki didn’t care for one bit.

He growled sharply, noticed that Izuku had also raised an eyebrow at him. Also noticed that the only open seat was next to the omega. He considered the line of chairs stacked away from the firepit, but decided it would bring more attention to everything if he deliberately went over to pull out a new chair. Still, he kept an eye on how Izuku reacted as he stomped over to the seat next to him and collapsed into it. Izuku, nursing a cup of tea, just sat and drank quietly, paying him no mind. The others gathered seemed to take much more interest than the omega did. Mina in particular was buzzing with a certain energy that had Katsuki raising his lip toward her.

Seated around the firepit included Iida, who looked half-asleep, Uraraka, also leaning heavily in her chair, probably tired from her shift, Kaninari, who was too busy texting to have even noticed that Katsuki had joined them, Jiro, also on her phone, though obviously more aware than the beta, and of course Mina, bubbling over with something not quite sinister, not quite innocent.

What was distinctly missing was any sign of the pups.

“Kazue?” Katsuki asked Izuku.

The omega let out an exhausted sigh. “Napping. Finally. He fought me so hard on that.”

“He still takes naps?” Katsuki was a bit surprised.

Izuku nodded. “For my own sanity, we both had a nap schedule.”

Uraraka gasped. “Do you mean you’d take a nap with him?”

“Yup,” Izuku smirked. “Thirty minute nap for me, probably another thirty minutes for Kazue.”

The other omega groaned. “Genius. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Izuku chuckled, tilted his cup back and forth. Katsuki peered inside, saw it was probably tea from Yaoyorozu. “Well, it cut into my lunch and I’d have to skip if I had an assignment due, but when I got to have it, it was blissful. And it at least gave me a little bit of time alone to get some work done.” He gazed sadly into his cup, set it down very suddenly. “Anyway, obviously he hasn’t been on any sort of schedule recently, so he was a bit fussy with me. And he is getting a little old for naps anyway. So it might be a thing of the past soon.”

“I… didn’t even think about him having a schedule.” Katsuki felt a little lost as he spoke.

Izuku just blinked at him. “Why would you?”

The alpha actually flinched. Whether Izuku meant it as a jab, Katsuki could hear the simple accusation in his voice. Because of course he wouldn’t know. He hadn’t been around to know.

He shifted in his seat, aware of Izuku watching him.

Kaminari only then decided to look up, to glance between omega and alpha. “Yeesh. Someone get a knife to cut this tension.”

“Seriously, you can’t be a little more tactful?” Jiro snorted as Katsuki growled at the beta.

“Let’s not argue now. We’re here to relax and make Midoriya feel welcome,” Iida said, though Izuku watched the alpha untrustingly.

Katsuki cut off his growl with a short snort. “Where’s Ponytail and Icyhot?”

“Yaoyorozu went to get something for us to snack on. Todoroki’s keeping an eye on the pups,” Uraraka said. “We got Kazue to agree to nap with Fumiko and Takahiro, so he’s just making sure they’re getting along. Plus we thought Deku might want some fresh air.”

“Yeah, you failed to mention the gardens,” Izuku looked a little smug. “Oh, and you forgot to tell me where the bathrooms are.”

Katsuki froze, wracked his brain, but he couldn’t remember if he’d mentioned the bathrooms or not. Obviously he hadn’t if Izuku was mentioning it. How had he missed that? He’d mentioned the damn gym and forgotten the bathrooms? Seriously?

The alpha sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Uraraka pointed them out last night. But I am sad no one talked about the garden. My place is way up in the city. No such thing as a garden there!”

Uraraka giggled. “Well, enjoy it! Tsu manages everything here, so if you wanted to do some gardening, you can talk to her about it.”

Izuku nodded. “Might be fun. But might be a little difficult with this.” He held up his arm.

Uraraka’s face fell, as did Iida’s. The pack alpha leaned forward. “It was my understanding that doctors were using their Quirks to help you heal. Why didn’t they heal your arm as well?”

“Oh, it was deemed non-essential.” Izuku shrugged. “I guess when they had to decide between healing bruised organs and a broken arm, the organs took priority.”

Even as the omega spoke so nonchalantly about his injuries, there was a forced quality to his voice. As if he were making himself be so blasé about everything, forcing himself not to care as much as he did. Between the omega’s words and the hidden strain in his voice, Katsuki felt his blood boiling all over again and he gripped his chair in a clenched fists, noticed that Izuku glanced over at him. The omega met his eyes and he held the gaze. Hoped Izuku understood that he was planning on hunting down this bastard and making him pay.

After a breath, the omega turned back to the ground. “Anyway, the side effects of the prolonged use of their Quirks meant that it wasn’t wise for them to try to heal my arm. So I’ve got to heal up naturally. And even then, they say I’ll probably have to do physical therapy for a while and I’ll probably have scarring.”

Both Iida and Uraraka frowned deeply at the news, Iida crossing his arms with his lips pulled into a tight line that was the closest he usually got to snarling. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Uraraka said.

Izuku tilted his head, smiled. “I’m not. Honestly, if this is all I have to worry about then, well…,” he trailed off, his eyes growing distant, his hand coming up to his neck, still bandaged. Uraraka and Iida shared a look. Jiro and Kaminari looked up from their phones to watch the omega closely. Even Mina had lost her mischievous spark from earlier. The sorrow in the air, the taste of grief, made Katsuki want to punch something.

He refrained when Izuku turned back to the group, tried to smile, didn’t quite manage. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

“Of course!” Mina, her spark roaring back, grinned impishly. “Do you mind if I ask a question?”

Katsuki already didn’t like where this was going and growled, but Izuku looked her up and down and took up his tea again. “Go ahead.”

“You and Bakugo were together for a long time, riiiight?”

Katsuki let his growl deep. “You better tread carefully,” he snarled, but Izuku held up his hand.

“It’s fine. Yeah, Katsuki and I grew up together. I… don’t even really know when we decided we were ‘together.’ We just… kind of always had been.”

“Ah! It’s so romantic!” The beta squirmed delightedly in her chair while Kaminari smirked at the two.

“Well, we know it was a little more than just romantic between you two. You got Kazue, after all.”

“What part of tread carefully did you not hear?” Katsuki snapped. “I don’t remember telling you that our past is an acceptable topic of discussion.”

“Aww, c’mon!” Mina pouted. “We’re just curious, Katsuki! You can’t blame us, really.”

“Yeah, we knew you were with an omega when we were in school and all this happens and suddenly he’s living with us? You can’t be mad that we want to know a little more!”

Katsuki set his teeth. “Watch me.” Izuku had spent quite a bit longer than what would have been considered normal hiding his mouth in his cup.

Mina frowned at Katsuki, turned suddenly toward Izuku. “Can’t believe you fell for a hothead like Bakugo. Well,” she tilted her head toward him, “maybe I can. He is good looking, at least.”

Katsuki snapped his jaw while Izuku shrugged noncommittally.

“Aww, c’mon!” Mina pressed, leaning in toward the omega. There was a huge, conspiratorial grin on her face. “You have to admit, Bakugo’s hot in more than one sense, isn’t he?”

“Oi! Would you cut it out?”

Izuku, however, raised an eyebrow at the beta, took a sip of his tea, set the cup back onto the table. “Of course Katsuki knows I think he’s attractive. Like you said, we did have a pup together, after all, and I’d say physical attraction is typically a key component that leads to such an event.” Mina giggled, shook her fists as if in celebration, until Izuku went on, “However, let’s just say, I doubt many people enjoy looking up porn stars just for their sparkling personality.”

Kaminari immediately spewed water from both his nose and mouth while the rest of group sat in slack-jawed silence. Even Katsuki didn’t really know what to say. Iida in particular was turning an alarming shade of red.

That wasn’t helped any when Uraraka suddenly put a finger to her lip. “You know, he does have a point.”

“Uraraka!” The pack alpha lifted his hands in a useless gesture toward his mate, the omega laughing as he did.

“What? Everyone needs some good eye candy.”

“Seconded.” Jiro said without looking up from her phone.

“Who wants cucumber sandwiches!” The joyous call of Yaoyorozu behind the group had almost everyone startling, Izuku perhaps most of all. The female alpha spotted Katsuki and frowned. “Katsuki, you took my seat!”

The alpha growled. “Bring another over.”

“It’s fine,” Izuku stood. “I should get Kazue up.”

Katsuki stood as well. “I’ll go with you.”

Izuku raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s a one-man job.”

The alpha put his hands on his hips. “Humor me. I need to talk to you.”

For a moment, the omega just looked at him. Didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just watched him. Then, he nodded toward the house, Katsuki following behind him, aware of his packmates’ eyes on their backs.

Once they were inside, Katsuki stepped beside Izuku, catching his attention. He pulled a card out from his pants, held it between them.

“Don’t know what the doctors have recommended for you, but I have an appointment with a psychiatrist tomorrow and I think you should consider coming.” Izuku looked stunned, his mouth open but no words coming out. Katsuki offered the card again. “It would be good for you and for Kazue.”

A small noise of disbelief escaped the omega’s mouth as he took the card, looked it over. Immediately, his jaw snapped shut, his gaze withering. He glared up at Katsuki. “This is….”

He nodded. “Same psychiatrist who showed me your memories.” He bit his lip as Izuku turned to glare at the paper. “She knows your situation. And it might be good for you to have someone to yell at.” He paused, but the omega didn’t react. “Just think about it, okay? And just so you know, I’m going out on patrol tomorrow.”

Izuku’s glare dropped into a look of surprise, a look of uncertainty. For a moment, Katsuki paused, wondered if it was a smart idea to leave him there alone with the pack. Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe he was moving too quickly. But if he didn’t take up Tsukauchi’s offer, he might miss the opportunity to help them hunt down Yokoyama.

“Is that… okay?” He asked.

Izuku stared up at him, looked down at Mai’s card. Eventually, he handed the card back. “It’s your life, Katsuki. You do what you need to.”

“Yeah well, I’m asking you.”

The omega shifted, touched his neck again. “I’ll at least come meet Akage. I do have some words for her.”

Katsuki nodded, once. “Be ready to leave eight o clock sharp. You have your driver’s license?”

Izuku blinked up at him. “No. Why would I need it?”

“We’ll take the car over, but I may have to leave straight from the appointment to start my patrol.”

“I can take the train just fine.”

The alpha growled. “Not on your own.”

Very suddenly, the omega jolted, as if electrocuted. A sharp, intense shiver overcame him, so bad that he wrapped his arms around his middle, his gaze dropping. “R-right….”

Katsuki watched him closely, but he didn’t move afterward. “I’ll ask someone to come with us. They can bring you back after.”

Izuku nodded, wrinkled his nose, still didn’t look up. “Not Iida or Kirishima.”

“Fine.” Katsuki snorted, smirked. “Never took you to be so against authority.” The omega ducked his head slightly, didn’t say anything. He looked very small, a little vulnerable. And Katsuki didn’t like that at all.

He growled. “We’ll figure it out before tomorrow. Just be ready in the morning. I’ll take care of everything else.”

The omega didn’t move for a moment. Seemed to think and rethink everything.

Then, he turned away. “I need to get my pup.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything as he slipped away, though he did watch until the omega had hurried up the staircase and out of his sight.

Chapter Text

That night, Izuku once again sat and ate in the living room with Yaoyorozu and Uraraka. Although Todoroki was at the packhouse, he didn’t join them, eating at the table with the rest of the pack and his pup. In fact, all the pups were seated at the table, Kazue in his grown-up chair next to Katsuki. Izuku watched carefully as pup and alpha interacted. Although slightly awkward, Katsuki was very attentive to the pup, leaned a bit toward him, quick to react to any noise the pup might make. He was nervous. He was a little uncertain. But he was trying his best, and Izuku could appreciate that. It did give him the reassurance to sit back and enjoy talking with Uraraka and Yaoyorozu, who welcomed him into their conversation without blinking an eye.

Right after dinner, Iida came over and handed Izuku a small package. “Here,” he said as Izuku blinked at the package in confusion, “Bakugo said you lost yours in the attack. We’d like you to have this. Use it to your liking.”

Izuku opened the package, already knowing what it was, to reveal a new cell phone. And a new new cell phone. He’d been using refurbished ones for years now, so the thought that he was the first person to hold this phone was more than a bit strange.

There was also a case with the phone. It had a reinforced plastic outer case and a few softer, rubbery coverings that came in a variety of different colors, including red, blue, and familiar shades of orange and green.

Izuku pressed his lips together, popped them open. “Let me guess. Mina picked up the case?”

Iida blinked. “Uh, well—”

“Blue is nice.” Yaoyorozu said smoothly.

“I like red, personally, but blue works as well,” Uraraka added.

While he appreciated the support, he studied the green and orange carefully, glanced again to Katsuki and Kazue. The pup had moved over to sit in the alpha’s lap, Katsuki resting his chin on the pup’s head. It was cute. It was natural. It was… weird, to say the least.

In the end, he opted for the blue case and stored the others away. He spent most of the evening setting up the phone, excusing himself to go upstairs for his laptop. He’d kept a backup of his contacts on his computer, which he hooked up to the new phone and easily imported.

Once his contacts were set up, his first order of business was to text Sano.

Hey, it’s Izuku. New phone number. Add me.

Within two minutes, she responded. CALL ME!

Smiling, Izuku tucked the phone into his pocket and went out into the hallway.

During Katsuki’s quick tour of the house, he’d neglected to tell Izuku about some of the more interesting parts of his new living quarters. Like the balcony that overhung the gardens from the back of the house. It was a small space, two chairs, a little table. But the view of the gardens below was beautiful. It was a sprawling bit of green, flowers not quite in bloom, but their leaves still marking out prominent beds along the stone walkways, around the little firepit area they’d been sitting at earlier. It was a peaceful place. A good place. A place Izuku wanted to be.

The new phone felt strange and clunky in his hand still. It was significantly bigger than his old phone, though surprisingly more lightweight. Still, it didn’t quite feel right as he put in to call Sano, pressing it to his ear.

She picked up on the second ring, “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“AH!” He could almost hear her collapsing back into her chair. “Oh, thank the gods you aren’t dead.”

A wry smile crept onto Izuku’s face. “Tried my best.”

“Do not speak. Seriously. Just,” he heard her sigh, heavy, sad. “I’m so happy to hear from you. You looked awful in the hospital.”

“Yeah, well, I felt awful.”

“Aw, babe,” she sighed. Then, she took in a breath. It was a signal. A signal she was about to use her serious voice. The voice that always had all the pups leaning in toward her, the one that even Izuku found himself leaning forward to hear. “Listen, are you safe?”

The omega paused. “What?”

“Are you safe? I tried to call the hospital and they said you were gone and I went by the store but Aoki said you’d left to go with some alpha. So, are you somewhere safe?”

It was so like Sano to phrase it that way.

He managed a laugh. “Yeah, I’m safe. It’s… been kind of a weird couple of days actually.”

“Where are you?”

“Well, brace yourself, but uh, you know how I’d never tell you who Kazue’s alpha was?”

Sano let out maybe the most dramatic gasp Izuku had ever heard, which was really saying something considering who his pup was. “No! Way!”

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m… still not ready to tell you who it is, but he’s… as you know, he works in a field related to law enforcement.”

“Yeees. And I always suspected he was some sort of hero.”

“Anyway,” Izuku pressed, “long story short, he found out about my situation. He… offered to help me out. He’s part of a pretty big pack, so I’m staying with him at their packhouse.”

Sano was quiet for a long time. Long enough that Izuku recognized she was thinking quickly, that she was a little frozen in her thoughts. Then, her lips popped open, “Izuku, you need to tell me right now. You’re sure you’re safe? He hasn’t just… taken you somewhere? He hasn’t threatened to hurt you?”

“Yes,” Izuku said firmly. “No matter our past, he would never physically hurt me. No matter what he may say or do, he’d never lay a hand on me, nor would he let anyone else hurt me. He knows just how powerful he is. He was always careful with me. Always.”

“Even now?”

“Yeah, even now.” The omega gazed out over the gardens, though they remained unchanging. “He’s been… very accommodating. Keeps treating me like he’s afraid I might break.”

Sano made a humming noise. “Well, given everything, I think most people are treating you with kid gloves at the moment.”

The omega growled. “Yeah. They are.”

“As they should be! I’m glad to hear that!”

Again, Izuku growled quietly. “I’m not weak, Sano.”

“Babe, seriously, nobody is calling you weak. They’re saying, hey, maybe you need a moment to relax because you almost were murdered by some psychopath!”

Izuku opened his mouth to snap something, but his words were swallowed as something stood out amongst the trees, something that looked like jagged teeth in a ragged smile, hands with claws, blood running down slick, black hair.

A whine pulled itself from his stomach before he could stop it, Izuku immediately slamming his hand over his mouth. From the other side of the phone, Sano was quiet. She was very quiet, until Izuku gasped, until he shook.

Then, she sighed. “Aw, babe. Sorry. I went overboard.”

Izuku wanted to tell her no, it was fine, she hadn’t. But he couldn’t find the words to say. He kept the phone pressed to his ear, closed his eyes, but could still see a line of yellowed teeth, smiling down at him.

A sudden noise had Izuku nearly leaping from his seat, had him yelping. When he spun over his shoulder, he found himself facing Katsuki, the alpha leaned halfway out the door, watching him with pinpoint eyes. Izuku knew that expression. Focused, intent. He was looking for what was causing his distress. But of course, Katsuki couldn’t see the line of teeth. He could only see the omega standing there, looking ridiculous with a phone pressed to his ear and a hand still over his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” The alpha looked more than a little alarmed. “Are you okay?”

“Who is that?” Sano’s voice was sharp.

“I, uh—”

“Babe, is that who I think that is?”

Her voice rung out loudly, loud enough that Katsuki clearly heard it, his face twitching slightly, clearly edging toward a snarl, though he composed himself.

“Let me talk to him!” Sano demanded.

“No! I-I,” he swallowed, “I have to go.”

“Izuku, let me talk to him!”

“I’ll text you, okay! Bye!” He hung up, shoved the phone in his pocket. Almost immediately, it started ringing, Sano calling him back.

He ignored it. “S-sorry, Katsuki.”

“It’s fine,” the alpha was glaring at him, trying to piece something together. Eventually, he clicked his tongue. “Babe, huh?”

Immediately, Izuku snapped toward him, his mind tightening to a single thought: Seriously, that’s what you’re worried about?

He huffed, collapsed back into his chair. “She’s just a friend. And I’m not saying that just to placate you.”

Whether it was his inflection or just Katsuki willing himself to believe the omega, the alpha settled after a moment’s pause, coming to sit next to him. “You… looked a little scared. Your friend do that to you?”

Izuku looked quickly away, back out over the garden. Willed himself not to see the teeth in the trees, shivered despite his efforts. “She… didn’t mean to. She was just making a point.”

“About?”

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“You’re right.” And with that, the alpha fell silent, sitting back in his seat. Izuku let that silence stew, wondered just how the alpha had known, at that moment, that he needed someone to knock him out of his thoughts. It was strange. Katsuki had been so good at that years earlier, when they’d been together. Izuku had always chalked it up to the alpha simply being used to him and his patterns, but even after five years, when he needed him most, there he was. No matter what, there he was.

As they sat there, in barely-tolerable awkward silence, Sano’s words about people not thinking he’s weak even if they were treating him like he was echoed in Izuku’s head as he watched the alpha. He hadn’t put up a fight. Hadn’t even considered it. Even the old Katsuki he’d known would have said something. He’d always known when and how to push back. But now, he didn’t even try.

Izuku wasn’t all too happy with that development. He supposed it was mostly from the situation, Katsuki simply not wanting to upset him or cause him any stress, but he knew it was also because it was awkward between them. And Izuku didn’t really even know if he did or didn’t want it to be awkward. Part of him ached for the old Katsuki, the one who would challenge him, the one who so very clearly loved and cared for him but still pushed him past what he thought himself capable. Part of him recognized that that Katsuki simply didn’t exist anymore, that he never would. And honestly, Izuku wasn’t sure he’d have been able to accept that Katsuki. Not after everything that had happened. Because that part of him didn’t trust the alpha, didn’t want to trust him. That part still knew the pain the alpha had caused him. That pain that stung every time Izuku saw him. Every time he was reminded of what had happened all those years ago.

But maybe it was unfair. Because maybe the same Katsuki who had hurt Izuku all those years ago was gone too. Maybe the Katsuki that sat next to him was a Katsuki he’d never known before. Maybe it was a Katsuki he wanted to get to know.

Maybe… he simply had to. For Kazue’s sake. Because he couldn’t see a world where they left the packhouse and never saw him again. The alpha was in his pup’s life now. It wouldn’t be fair to keep Katsuki away for his own selfish wants, not when the alpha had done absolutely nothing to indicate he would hurt the pup. His own feelings aside, it wouldn’t be fair for Kazue. No matter how much it may hurt him.

He took in a breath, let it out slowly, picked at the straps on his cast. “She… was just trying to tell me that it’s okay for people to be treating me a little differently. That even though everyone’s acting like I’m so fragile I might shatter if they say something wrong, that they don’t actually think I’m weak. It’s just that… you know….”

Katsuki was very quiet. For a long moment.

Then, he shifted. “Has anyone told you you’re weak? Cause if they did, I’ll set them straight.”

“No, Katsuki. Nobody has said anything to me.”

The alpha nodded, seemingly contented by his answer. He didn’t press any further and Izuku didn’t offer anything else. They just sat in silence.

Until the alpha braved, “Can I ask who that was?”

Izuku considered him, then nodded, “It was Sano.”

Katsuki lifted his head, looking a little surprised. He seemed to search Izuku for something, though for what, he couldn’t decide. “She’s the woman that runs the daycare Kazue goes to, right?”

“Well, yes and no,” Izuku let his hands fall into his lap, stared up at the clouds. Tried to figure out the exact words he wanted to use, found them strangely missing from his mind. “She’s a friend of mine. We met in high school, but we really got to be good friends after graduation. She helped me with my pregnancy and she was there to help with Kazue. She runs a daycare now, but you could say Kazue was the first pup who started her business.”

The alpha seemed surprised, seemed to roll the new information around in his head. He cracked some of his knuckles, an old habit Izuku recognized. He knew the alpha didn’t even realize he was doing it. “Didn’t know she was that young. Guess I just assumed she was an old hag or something.”

Izuku snorted. “She’s most definitely not, but I’ll make sure to tell her you said that. She’ll get a kick out of it.”

Katsuki snarled quietly, rubbed the back of his head. Intertwined his fingers. “If… you’d feel more comfortable with her… and she’s willing… I’d help you move in with her.”

For a moment, Izuku stared at the alpha. This time, Katsuki wouldn’t look back. There was something painful about his expression, but he was trying to hide it. Still, it wasn’t hard for Izuku to tell he didn’t like the idea, despite having suggested it himself.

Slowly, the omega leaned a little farther back into his seat. “No. She doesn’t really have the ability to help me out as I’d need.”

“She babysits pups all day long,” Katsuki said simply. “I’d think you’d be a hell of a lot easier to deal with then them.”

Izuku actually felt himself laughing at that. “Thanks. But it’s not that simple. She has her alpha to help her with the pups. And he… isn’t my biggest fan.” He gave Katsuki a wry smile in answer to his confused look. “She spent a lot of time with me during my pregnancy, before I found that apartment above Mr. Aoki’s shop. He got jealous of me. Hasn’t ever really forgiven me for all the time she spent away from him.”

“That’s shitty.”

Izuku shrugged. “I never said he was a good alpha. But he’s the one she chose and he’s very good to her. So, I don’t complain and I don’t say anything. In return, he keeps his mouth shut. But he wouldn’t let me stay with them at their place and Sano wouldn’t be able to help me at mine.”

Katsuki snorted. “Don’t tell me he wouldn’t let her stay at your place for a little while? How big of a jerk is he?”

“It’s nothing like that, although he certainly wouldn’t be happy about that,” Izuku shrugged. “She can’t get up the stairs to the apartment.” Katsuki stared at him, still confused. Izuku considered whether he wanted to say more, eventually sighed. “She’s paraplegic. In a wheelchair.”

The alpha was very quiet for a long time. “She’s… in a wheelchair.”

“Yup.”

“And she runs a daycare?”

Izuku narrowed his eyes. “Something wrong with that?”

“No,” Katsuki looked mildly impressed. “The pack hardly keeps up with two pups. How does she deal with more?”

Izuku considered him, eventually let himself smile. “Practice. And a lot of love for what she does.”

Katsuki lifted a hand, shook his head. “Well, I’m… happy to hear you weren’t completely alone.”

It would have been easy to turn it back on the alpha. To tell him it was without his help, no thanks to him, despite what he did, or rather didn’t, do. He could have snapped or hissed or otherwise pushed the alpha away. And in some regards, that would have been easier. He sensed that Katsuki was expecting it. That he’d purposefully opened himself up to this, knowing full well Izuku may retaliate. Izuku could even see him bracing for the inevitable.

Maybe it was this or maybe something else, but the omega shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

Katsuki shifted. He was very quiet. Then, he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Leaving.”

Izuku snorted. “It’s way too late to apologize for that.”

“Well then I want you to know that it was a mistake.”

Izuku pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, I get that there are things we have to say, things we probably need to talk about, but I don’t want to talk about this right now. I’m tired, Katsuki.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Let’s not talk about anything.”

Katsuki considered him. Seemed to wait for him to ask the alpha to just leave. But Izuku just stared out over the gardens, watched the horizon.

Slowly, the alpha settled. Put his feet up on the banister. Izuku had not known the pack alpha for long, but he knew very well if Iida saw that, he’d completely lose his mind. And Katuski knew it, too.

So maybe there was a some of the old Katuski still there after all.

“Beautiful sunset,” he said.

“Yeah,” Izuku closed his eyes. Breathed in. Smelled caramel, roasted chilies over a campfire. “They all are.”

He let the moment linger, just a few minutes.

Then, “Just so you know, you’re sleeping in your own room tonight.”

And the alpha actually chuckled. “Deal.”

- - -

Katsuki got up early, went down to get breakfast going. Something light. Because he honestly wasn’t sure how that day was going to go.

At five minutes to eight, he went up and knocked on Izuku’s door. “Unless you want breakfast in bed again, you better come downstairs.”

Once again, the small patter of feet announced Kazue’s presence before the pup popped the door open. “Food?”

Katsuki picked him up, held him to his chest. Caught a glimpse of Izuku still in bed. “Five minutes, Izuku.” The omega growled as he shut the door.

Fifteen minutes, and one pup fed, later, the alpha returned and sent Kazue into the bedroom to drag his mom out of the bed. The ragged look on the omega’s face told Katsuki that he had not slept the previous night. Still, he stepped out to let him get ready for the day, going downstairs to check the office.

He was surprised to find that Iida was actually still there, hunched over the computer, bags piled up under red eyes.

“Any word from Tsukauchi?”

Iida actually startled at Katsuki’s voice, spinning to face him. “Oh, Bakugo.” He took his glasses off, rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”

“After eight,” Katsuki narrowed his gaze. “How long have you been in here?”

Iida shook his head. “Never mind that. Yes, I did hear from Tsukauchi. I apologize, I thought I’d told you already.” He turned back to the desk, sifted through several scraps of paper before holding one out to Katsuki. “He’ll see you as soon as you can get to the station. Here’s the address.”

Katsuki glanced at the note, nodded. “Fine.” He glared at the pack alpha. “Get some sleep. You look like hell.” He left before Iida could say anything else.

Out in the dining room, he found a half-asleep Izuku with Kazue in his lap, the pup trying to spoon rice into the omega’s mouth. Katsuki went into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, putting it in front of him. “Fifteen minutes, Izuku.” He said. Izuku growled, but took a huge gulp of coffee.

Fifteen minutes later, somehow the omega had scarfed down his breakfast, drunk his coffee, and fixed himself up. Katsuki noted him shrugging on the All Might jacket again.

“We going?” He asked.

Katsuki blinked, realized he’d been staring. “Just waiting for Uraraka.”

Izuku glanced around for the other omega. “Where is she?”

Katsuki checked his watch. “Hopefully telling Iida to go to bed.” He paused when Kazue tugged at his pants, the pup whining while raising his arms to the alpha.

When Katsuki picked him up, Izuku frowned. “You know, you really shouldn’t do that. It encourages bad behaviors.”

Katuski blinked at the omega. “Do what?”

Izuku gave him a dry look as Uraraka suddenly rushed down the stairs. “Sorry, sorry! Are we late?”

“Not if you let me drive.”

The omega plucked the keys from Ktauki’s hand, taking advantage of the fact he was holding Kazue and was unable to stop her. “Let’s go!” She said cheerily. Katsuki grumbled, but followed after her, with a smirking Izuku right behind him.

- - -

The address turned out to not be an office building or a hospital or any of the like. Instead, they rolled up to a squat, little, normal looking house in the middle of a neighborhood. The only odd thing about it was a clearly hand-painted sign that said “NO HANDOUTS” over a tiny garden of daikon.

Both omegas stared at the house. “Is this right?” Uraraka consulted the address, but Katsuki was already unbuckling Kazue from the back.

“Yeah, this seems about right.” He ignored the look the omegas gave each other. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you.”

Kazue had also taken interest in the house, glaring at it through the window. “Kacchan, what’s that spooky house?”

“Why don’t you ask the old woman who lives there.”

“Is she mean?”

“Very.”

“Katsuki!”

“Oh,” the pup paused to clamber out of the car, hurrying around to be at his mother’s side. He grabbed onto Izuku’s leg and glared at the house. “Mommy, no.”

“It’s all right, Kazue. There’s nothing scary in there.”

“Mommy, no!”

Izuku spun over his shoulder to turn a glare at Katsuki that screamed, Fix this!

Katsuki snorted. “It was just a joke, Kaz. She’s not mean.”

That did not seem to satisfy omega or pup, Izuku glaring at Katsuki while Kazue kept careful vigil on the front door.

“C’mon, firecracker,” Izuku picked Kazue up, pressing him to his scent gland while releasing some of his calming scent. Kazue shuddered, but relaxed into his omega’s neck, little arms wrapped around him, eyes drooping.

“Mommy,” he muttered, to which Izuku hummed quietly.

Beside Katsuki, Uraraka suddenly sighed. “They’re so adorable. How the hell did you help make that?” Katsuki glared hard at her, but said nothing.

They walked up to the front door, Izuku at the lead, though he didn’t knock. Katsuki stepped next to him to knock first, watching as Kazue, now calmed, played absently with a few strands of the omega’s hair.

“If you can make him calm with just your scent, why were you mad at me for whatever the hell it was I said?” The alpha growled.

Izuku sighed through his nose. “If he’s reliant on me to regulate his emotions he’ll never learn to do it on his own and he’ll have a very hard time in school.”

Katsuki shut his mouth immediately. That… made a lot of sense. And he should have thought of that. But he hadn’t.

He was still caught up in cursing himself for not thinking more critically when the omega snorted. “Or if, you know, I get murdered in an alleyway.”

“That’s not going to happen, Izuku.” Katsuki turned to face him, but he pointedly stared right at the door. “I’m not going to let that happen to you.”

Finally, the omega fixed him with a hard glare, something Katsuki couldn’t quite understand.

He was still glaring when the door opened and Mai peered out at them. She snorted. “Brought an entourage, did you?”

Katsuki faced her, aware that the omega was choosing to keep glaring at him rather than face the old woman. “Everyone, meet Mai Akage. Mai, this is Izuku Midoriya, Kazue, and my pack alpha’s omega, Ochako Uraraka.”

“Pleasure,” she said dryly, then gestured them inside. “Come and sit.”

Katsuki waited, but Izuku didn’t move, peering into the house. The alpha reached out, brushed his hand along the omega’s back. Just beneath his fingers, he swore he felt muscles unwinding, tension easing, a warmth radiating through his fingertips. Before he could think about it, Izuku shifted the pup onto his hip and went inside, Uraraka following after him. Katsuki paused to sweep the area for anything suspicious, but he was met with a normal street in a normal neighborhood. The most suspicious thing about that street was Katsuki himself, standing outside a random house, glaring down the road, framed by the “NO HANDOUTS” sign.

With a growl, he went into the home.

Mai’s home was quaint, small, homey. It looked far too normal for the older alpha Katsuki had met at the hospital. He was half expecting to walk into an office with laid-back couch, but he found the omegas in a rather pleasant sitting room, the television silenced on some sort of crime investigation show. Neither were actually sitting, both examining the room rather closely. Mai stood in the corner, watching it all.

When Katsuki appeared, her eyes jumped to him, seemed to stare into him, much as she had at the hospital. After a few seconds, those eyes turned to Izuku, looked into him just as closely. Almost immediately, the omega seemed to still, turning slowly over his shoulder to stare at the alpha.

There came a moment between them, a moment where Katsuki swore they looked like prey and predator. But he couldn’t quite tell who was the wolf and who was the lamb. Despite being the omega in the exchange, Izuku’s arms were tightly wrapped around his pup, his eyes locked and wide, looking for any movement, any weakness from the alpha. Meanwhile, the elder stared into him, picked him apart, piece by piece.

A short noise from Uraraka and her moving between the omega and alpha broke the moment. She held out her hand. “Hello. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Mai glanced at the other omega, but only briefly before turning back to Izuku. “I’m glad to see you here. Last I saw, you were half-dead already.”

Izuku hunched down slightly, drew Kazue a little closer. Realizing his omega’s discomfort, Kazue lifted his head, whined slightly. At the sound of his pup, Katsuki closed the distance between them, ran a hand along Izuku’s back. The omega startled, the tension snapping like a whip. He let out a breath, shuddered. Refocused on Mai, his lips pulled into a determined line.

“Here,” he shifted Kazue over to Katsuki, the alpha taking the pup.

“You all right?” He asked.

Izuku nodded. “Yeah, I am.” He took in a breath, seemed to settle into himself, his resolve steadying, his mind clearing. Then, he turned to Mai. “I need to talk to you.”

The old alpha smirked. “I’m sure you do.” She gestured around the corner. “Let’s go somewhere private, shall we?”

Izuku nodded, following behind her silently. They turned a corner, a door shut, and that was it.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

Then, Kazue whined, pressed himself into Katsuki’s neck. “Mommy.”

“He’s okay,” Katsuki muttered and Uraraka came over to rub his back and let out some of her own calming scent.

“Let’s sit down. I have a feeling this is going to take a while,” she said.

Katsuki grunted, taking a seat and setting Kazue in his lap. The pup looked around the room, seemingly searching for Izuku, though he wasn’t brave enough to leave the alpha’s lap. Uraraka sat next to them, trailing a hand on the pup’s back, smiling when he glanced up at her.

“He’ll be okay,” she reassured.

Kazue huddled closer to Katsuki’s heart. “Kacchan said she’s mean.”

“He thinks everyone is mean,” Uraraka shrugged. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just being silly.”

The pup tilted his head slightly. “Does Kacchan think you’re mean?”

“Oh, sometimes,” Uraraka grinned at the alpha, who snorted.

“But you’re not mean!”

The omega giggled. “Aww, well thank you, Kazue. That’s very sweet of you.” The pup purred, seemingly contented by Uraraka’s words. She shifted a little closer to him, leaned in as if to whisper a secret ot him. “Don’t worry. We wouldn’t let anyone hurt your mom.”

Kazue narrowed his eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Uraraka held out her pinky. The pup stared at her finger, pouting at it as if he wasn’t at all convinced, though eventually he did curl his pinky around hers. When they parted, he stared down at his finger as if it held so much more than just a word, just a promise. He leaned against Katsuki’s chest, burying himself back into his shirt. Katsuki hugged him tightly, rested his chin in the pup’s hair.

Uraraka watched them, smiling. “You’re doing well,” she whispered.

Katsuki considered her, lifted his head. “Have you seen Iida today? He looked like hell.”

“Yes. In fact I was trying to convince him to take a break,” the omega sighed, leaned back defeatedly. “Seriously, he can be so stubborn sometimes. He lets his alpha out at the most inconvenient times.”

“What’s up with him anyway? He’s been looking more run down than usual.”

Uraraka’s head popped up, the omega blinking several times. “You… don’t know?”

“Know what?” Katuski narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t used to being out of the loop when it came to the pack. He was second-in-command, after all. He couldn’t avoid keeping up with what was happening. And it wasn’t like Iida didn’t track him down to tell him everything, whether he wanted to listen or not. Katsuki couldn’t remember all the times he’d been cornered by the pack alpha and been forced to listen to all the tiny complaints lauded against him by the pack for stupid, insignificant things.

And yet, now that he was thinking about it, Iida hadn’t done that. Not for a couple of weeks now.

The omega searched Katsuki’s face, sat back. Seemed to gather her words, to sift carefully through them.

Then, “Well, he’s been taking all your missed shifts for the past ten days now.”

For a moment, Katsuki thought he must have heard wrong. “Instead of working at his family’s agency,” He clarified.

“No,” Uraraka shrugged. “He’s capped out on the number of hours he can legally work on the streets, so he’s been doing what he can from the packhouse. I finally convinced him to let me take one of your patrols just yesterday.”

Katsuki leaned back, tried to think over what had happened through the last two weeks. He’d noticed how tired the pack alpha was, obviously. He had been paying attention enough to realize Iida hadn’t been in the packhouse hardly at all over the last few days, but he’d never imagined that was the reason. Between working at the pack’s agency, helping his brother run their family agency, and being pack alpha, Iida was always busy. He seemed to prefer it that way. But even he couldn’t work three patrols and run the pack and raise Fumiko.

And yet, he’d tried.

The alpha snapped his jaws. “Moron. What’s he thinking?”

“He’s thinking,” Uraraka said, somewhat obviously, “that you’re his second-in-command and it’s his responsibility to make sure you’re being cared for as well as everyone else in the pack.”

Katsuki growled. “He’s still being an idiot. There’s how many others at the agency who could have picked up the slack?”

Uraraka shrugged. “You still could probably say something to him. And maybe be nice about it.”

The alpha responded with one more short growl, reached for his phone. He opened his messages, typed out “you better be in bed,” in all caps, sent it to Iida, then shoved his phone away before receiving a response. As he did, he caught a satisfied smirk on the omega’s face beside him.

Some time passed, enough that Katsuki started watching the clock. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. As the time passed, his anxiety grew, and Kazue, too, became more restless. He shuffled back and forth between Katsuki’s lap and Uraraka’s, eventually even hopping off the couch to inspect parts of the room more closely, taking particular interest in what appeared to be a younger Mai with a very old woman nearly the spitting image of the alpha.

As soon as a door opened though, everyone sat up, turned to face the hallway. A short noise came from around the corner just before Izuku appeared, Katsuki immediately standing upon seeing him. He was completely red faced and wet cheeked, eyes swelled from crying. Kazue chirped in alarm and ran to his omega, Izuku picking him up, cradling him to his chest.

Almost at the same time, Katsuki was at their side. “Are you okay?” He asked, then Mai shuffled around the corner as well.

Upon seeing the old alpha, Katsuki felt his teeth clenching, a snarl in his lips, in his throat. He only stopped when Izuku said, “Katsuki, don’t.” Mai faced Katsuki, unflinching as he stood still, despite the fact that he didn’t let the snarl fade from his face. “It’s okay, Katsuki. I’m okay.”

Katsuki clicked his teeth together, turned to the omega, who was starting to settle now that he had Kazue in his arms again.

“So. Next week, we’ll try a full session. The pup, then you,” Mai said sharply, clinically.

Izuku wouldn’t look at her, but he did nod. “Yeah. That’s fine. If someone can bring us and sit with Kazue.” He turned the last statement to Katsuki and Uraraka.

The other omega smiled patiently. “Of course! We’ll look at the schedule and figure it out. We’ll make sure you’re here on time.”

With a little sniffle and little nod, Izuku glanced at Mia and Mai at him, something passing between them. He was the first to look away.

“Can you take me back now, Uraraka?”

The other omega nodded. “Of course. You’ll be okay on your own, Bakugo?”

The alpha nodded, once, still watching Izuku closely. “Yeah. I’ll have to stop by the agency to get my costume. Drop my gear off for me?”

Uraraka brightened. “Sure! Would you maybe like to tour the agency, Deku?”

The omega attempted a smile. “I’d love to. But not today.”

Immediately, Kazue whined. “Mommy! That sounds so cool!”

“Soon, firecracker. But not today.”

Uraraka giggled. “That’s okay. You can see the outside of it while I pop inside, Kazue. Then, one day, we’ll take you on a full tour!”

The pup pouted, but ultimately, he settled when Izuku rubbed against him. “Fine,” he sighed.

Izuku hummed. “Good pup. Let’s go back to the packhouse now. Maybe take a nap.”

“No nap.”

“Maybe nap.”

“Mommy,” the pup gave Izuku an exasperated look, “no nap.”

Izuku chuckled, glanced to Katsuki. His smile fell away, but the alpha felt no animosity in the look. He wasn’t sure what was there, but there was something in that look, something that eased him, if only in that he realized Izuku was going to be okay.

“I’ll be back tonight,” he said quietly.

The omega nodded. “You better. If you leave me with Kirishima and Iida, I might punch them.”

“I’d pay good money to see that. They’d let you do it, too.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Izuku actually laughed.

Kazue, however, was looking at him somewhat confused. “Mommy, you can’t hit people! That’s not nice!”

“You are absolutely right, firecracker,” Izuku turned to Uraraka, nodded once to her, glanced one more time at Katsuki. “Say goodbye to Kacchan. We’ll see him later.”

“Bye Kacchan! Will you make dinner tonight? I don’t like it when Mina cooks!”

Uraraka giggled behind her hand as Katsuki smirked. “Will do. Think about what you what.”

“Soba!”

“Soba it is.”

The pup chirped happily as Izuku started for the exit. “Bye, Kacchan!”

“See you soon, Kazue.”

Katsuki raised his hand as Izuku glanced at him one more time, but he didn’t say anything. Uraraka waved at them as she shut the door, and they were gone.

Katsuki stared at the closed door, but he knew they weren’t going to come back. So he turned over his shoulder, saw Mai standing there, still just watching.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well? You gonna ask me how I feel about all this?”

Mai snorted. “I don’t need you to tell me it’s been hell.” She nodded back down the hallway. “

But you can come talk to me about anything you’d like. We’ll start there. We’ll work up to today.”

Katsuki growled. “We can start with today,” he stomped toward the back of the house, following the same path Izuku had taken not so long ago.

As he passed her, Mai chuckled. “I highly doubt that, young alpha.”

- - -

By the time Katsuki made it to the agency, he couldn’t really decide what he was feeling. Relief? Sorrow? Grief? Some strange combination of it all, topped with the festering resentment he still held in his heart. Mai’s words kept ringing in his ears, but the closer he got to the agency, the more those words faded and the more he heard Izuku crying and Kazue whining and that bastard alpha growling. The closer he got to the agency, the more he was consumed with the hunt. He was going to find Yokoyama. He was going to make him pay. There was no other option.

By the time he walked through the agency’s front doors, he was snarling. So much so that as he stomped over to the elevator and the doors slid open to reveal Kirishima, the beta got about halfway through greeting him before he paused, tilting his head slightly. Katsuki walked right past him into the elevator, pressing the third floor button and holding the close doors button until they slid shut between him and Kirishima, the beta still watching him, a bit perplexed.

By the time he reached the elevator doors opened again, his snarl had turned into his trademark smirk. The third floor held the various offices of the heroes who worked there. Uraraka had texted to say she’d left his gear on his desk, so he went immediately down the hall and to his office. His case was resting right where the omega had said she’d left it, Katsuki grabbing it and turning to leave. He was faced with Kaminari and Shino, peering in from the hallway, blocking the doorway.

Katsuki immediately growled. “Out of the way.”

Kaminari actually flinched slightly at the alpha’s command while Shinso smirked. “Gladly. You’re stinking up the place already. Was almost peaceful without you around.”

The alpha snapped his jaws at the omega, but he still didn’t flinch. “Don’t push it today, Eyebags. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

He pushed Shinso aside, ignoring the small noise of protest from the beta. Instead, he went back to the elevator, took it down to the basement. There was a gym and showers down there. Maybe less people as well. A good place to center himself before heading out.

He was graced with a moment of quiet, the gym empty, the lockers silent, the showers dry. He ran the water as hot as he could, but didn’t step under the stream, instead going to the adjacent room to retrieve his costume from his locker. Under the steam and the sweat building on his skin, he pulled himself into the familiar clothes, shirt, pants, kneecaps, belts, boots. Each a piece he knew well. Something grounding. Something from his past, present, and future that made his body alight in fire. Something that focused his mind and sharpened his resolve. Just as easily as he slipped on his arm bands and gloves and bracers, he slipped back into a role he’d held for years now. He was a young, powerful hero. Practically on top of the world. Even if in reality, the weight of that world was resting on his shoulders. He took that weight easily, having grown used to it. It was far too easy to sag back into his place in this world, to reassert the position he had carved out for himself.

When he pulled on his gauntlets and his mask, he smirked again, felt so very much in a place he belonged.

And with that feeling, he had a new fire, a new drive. The nameless villains he’d once faced were gone. Now, he had a purpose. Something he would see to its end, no matter the result.

It was with this purpose and ease that he snapped off the showers, went back upstairs, and started for the police department.

The entire way, he never lost his furious smirk, his fire, his burning will.

He’d use this fire to avenge Izuku and Kazue. He’d use this fire to burn the alpha away. Then, he’d use this fire to warm the omega and pup. It was all he knew to do. And it was everything he would achieve. Nothing was going to get in his way. Not Yokoyama, not the police, not any one or any thing.

And so, he never lost his smirk. And he never let that fire burn out.

Chapter Text

As soon as Katsuki stepped into the police department, a secretary behind a plexiglass window glanced up at him under heavily massacred lashes and gestured him toward the back.

“The inspector is waiting for you. Third office down the hallway. You’ll know it when you see it.”

Without acknowledging her further, he followed her instructions, shoved his way into the back room. Beyond the door revealed a room of desks crammed together, people milling this way and that, the police department in full operation. A hallway along the back of the room was Katsuki’s best guess to where the offices were.

Although several people stopped to stare at him, to whisper behind their palms, he ignored them all, walked with purpose and intent. Still cradling the fire he was going to use to burn through anything in his path.

He was, however, slightly surprised to find that the first obstacle in that way was Detective Ito. The detective stepped out from one of the offices, nose buried in some paperwork, though his eyes snapped up, as if sensing Katsuki in front of him.

“Move,” the alpha growled, but Ito didn’t.

In fact, he smiled at the hero. “Ah. Good to see you, Ground Zero. How are things going?”

Katsuki growled, tried to shoulder past Ito, though the detective put a hand on his arm, stopped him. Despite the friendly smile on his face, his eyes were sharp, cold. “Tell me,” he brought his voice low, barely carrying over the mulling murmur of all those around them. “You didn’t leave Midoriya alone, did you?”

Katsuki considered the detective. Shrugged his arm away. “What do you know?”

Ito shook his head, his smile now gone. “I’m sure the inspector will fill you in. For now, all you should know is that Midoriya shouldn’t be alone.”

“He isn’t,” Katsuki snapped his jaws, turned away. “Not that that’s any of your business. He’s safe. Don’t worry about him. Just worry about finding this asshole.”

Before he could move away, Ito actually laughed. “Oh, I’m not really on Midoriya’s case anymore. It was relegated to the higher ups pretty quickly.” Katsuki turned to glared at the detective, but he just shrugged. “Let’s just say, we want to find this bastard as much as you do.” He nodded toward a door down the hallway. “The inspector’s waiting for you. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. So maybe try smiling?” Katsuki snarled as the detective chuckled and turned away.

Still, his words rung in his head as he snapped toward the door. Izuku’s case was in the hands of the higher ups, huh? Something foul was going on. If they already had the alpha’s name, why hadn’t they caught him yet? Why was Izuku’s case of so much interest to the police?

He didn’t knock on Tsukauchi’s door before barging in. “We need to talk.” He snarled.

Tsukauchi looked up from a laptop perched on a desk far messier than Katuski would have guessed the inspector kept. “Ah!” He stood, held out his hand. “Good to see you, Ground Zero. Thanks for agreeing to come by.”

Katsuki didn’t take his hand, didn’t take one of the seats in front of his desk, didn’t even really glance around the office, taking note only of a whiteboard covered in red and blue writing and several diagrams he couldn’t decipher with just a glance. “Tell me what’s going on with Izuku’s case.”

The inspector smiled thinly, lowered his hand, took his seat again. “You know, you can come off as quite rude sometimes, but in this case, I’m happy to get right down to it.” He nodded for Katsuki to sit, waiting patiently and silently until the alpha got the message and tossed himself into the chair, slouching grumpily.

Tsukauchi took no notice, sifting through the papers on his desk until he uncovered a file, which he handed to Katsuki. “We have reason to believe Midoriya is the only survivor so far of a serial murderer.”

Katsuki had flipped open the file immediately, but he hadn’t had a chance to look at any of the papers before the words washed over him, before he was staring up at the inspector in stunned silent.

Tsukauchi waited, perhaps for him to say something, to react in any way, but when he didn’t, he nodded to those papers. “It’s all in there, but there’s been a string of omega attacks over the past seven months. Eight in total, if you include Midoriya. Midoriya’s is by far the most outlying of all of the attacks, which is why you’re here. I wanted to get your take on things as you see it.”

Still reeling from the news, still unsure what to even say, Katsuki sat back, started going through the files. One by one, eight photos slipped into his hands. Seven dead. And Izuku, the last. The police must have pulled his photo from some sort of social media, because it showed the omega cradling a much smaller Kazue to his cheek, the pup opening his mouth to reveal only a smattering of teeth.

It struck Katsuki that this was the first time he was actually sitting down and examining a photo of a younger Kazue. Izuku had had a couple in his apartment, but everything had moved so quickly that he hadn’t had time to really look at them. In the photo, Izuku looked happy, but tired, and Kazue seemed so very joyous, his mouth open in a squeal or a laugh. He could only imagine what that moment would have been like. The other omega photos were much the same, the victims caught in moments of happiness or at the very least contentedness. Every single one of them save for Izuku had a second photo of them in the morgue.

Although painful for more than one reason, Katsuki looked carefully through the file, aware the entire time that Tsukauchi was watching him. He read up the reports on the injuries the omegas had sustained, their causes of death, where they had been found. Many of them had been found in similar circumstance to where Katsuki had found Izuku: abandoned buildings or cramped alleyways away from prying eyes. The bodies had been dumped where they had been killed. Every one of them had been violated. What stood out most though, was a note at the bottom of several of the reports.

Refer, case no. PD6673.

While the first seven reports read much the same, Izuku’s read quite differently. For one, he was the only male omega of the eight. It meant that either his secondary gender was the only thing the alpha cared about, or it pointed to his attack being separate from the others. But the injuries Izuku had sustained did mirror the other omegas’ in a rather chilling way. Specifically, all of them had been beaten, with the other omegas either dying of internal bleeding or head trauma, and they each had sustained multiple bite marks to the neck. Izuku was the only one who seemed to have been restrained and while the other omegas seemed to have only lasted a few hours, the police still believed he’d been held for at least a couple of days. So Tsukauchi was right, there were several differences. But also some eerie similarities that couldn’t be ignored.

But there was still one nagging question that Katsuki had when he closed the file. “What’s case PD6673?”

Without saying a word, Tsukauchi handed him another file. When Katsuki flipped it open, his heart sank.

There was a photo of Kazue in the file. Along with the photos of eight other pups.

A quick skim of the file told all the story Katsuki needed to know: all of the pups were children of the murdered omegas and all of them, save for Kazue, were missing. Most of the information was the same for the pups, save for two who were highlighted. They were twins. One boy, one girl. They’d gone missing at the same time as their mother. In fact, all the pups had gone missing the same time as their mother. Much as Izuku’s, Kazue’s case was different, though he fell more in line with the other pups than Izuku did to the other omegas. In fact, Katsuki could see where the police lined up Izuku’s case with the other omegas not through his own attack, but through Kazue’s involvement. Because at face value, this didn’t make sense. Where were the pups? Why did an alpha take them? Assumably, they, like Kazue, had been taken with their omega. But what happened after their omega was killed? Had they been killed as well? Taken somewhere? What had been done to them? And why?

Each was a heavy question. Made all the more uncomfortable by the fact that Katsuki could have so easily been looking at a file of eight murdered omegas and nine missing pups.

Katsuki glared at Tsukauchi from over the file. The inspector was sat back, watching him.

When the hero said nothing, he spoke, “Here’s what we know: Ryo Yokoyama was identified as the person who attacked Midoriya. Midoriya was able to pick him out a photo lineup, and I suspect you recognized him as well.” Katsuki lifted his lip in a snarl. Tsukauchi lifted his palm in a sort of shrugging gesture. “That being said, we haven’t been able to connect him to the murders. If we can verify that Midoriya’s attack was connected to the others, we can call in additional resources to close the case.”

Katsuki growled lowly. “If you know who did this, why haven’t you brought him in yet?”

“We’ve been looking, but he’s stayed under the radar,” Tsukauchi rubbed his forehead tiredly. “He’s smart, or at least he knows how to keep a low profile. He doesn’t have any property in his name, no assets, no bank accounts, nothing. So we need those extra resources to find him and bring him in before he hurts anyone else.” He nodded to Katsuki. “I told we’d contact you if we required anything more. Well, we need to find what connects Midoriya to these murders. And Midoriya himself is too close to the attack to pick out the smaller details we need.”

Katsuki growled. “You don’t need to talk to Izuku. I saw everything he did. Leave him out of this.”

At this, the inspector glanced up at him under lowered eyebrows. “He’s a part of this, Bakugo. You can’t keep him from this forever. Eventually, we will need his testimony. But for now,” he raised his hand as Katsuki growled, “we can work with what you say.”

“Fine,” Katsuki closed the files and tossed them onto Tsukauchi’s desk. “What do you need to know?”

Tsukauchi smiled, nodded. “Let me walk you through what we know. If something stands out, speak up.”

Katsuki rapped his knuckles against his chair impatiently as the inspector arranged the photos of the omegas in front of him. “First victim worked in a heat house. One of the seedier ones. The police have raided that house more than once. So it’s conceivable she met the killer either there or just from the criminal world around her. Second victim also worked in a heat house. Different one, but in the same part of town. Third victim was an escort. Fourth and fifth were unemployed, but we suspect they worked in similar fields to the others. The sixth victim is where it changes,” Tsukauchi pointed to the sixth photo, the omega with brushed hair and makeup in place, looking much more put together than the ones before. “She had a legitimate job as a waiter at a restaurant. She was also the youngest at only twenty. Seventh victim worked odd hours at a convenience store to try to support her two pups. Eighth victim was Midoriya. As you might know, he works as an administrative assistant and he is the only one to have a job that is off-site.”

As Tsukauchi spoke, Katsuki tallied them all together, trying to find what pieces of what puzzle they represented. There was a clear progression as the alpha grew more confident, from easier, more vulnerable targets working in heat houses to omegas working in low level customer service jobs. Izuku stood out because while it was conceivable that the murderer had met the other omegas before the attacks, there were very few places he could have met Izuku. Izuku fit in the progression, but Katsuki didn’t know where Yokoyama could have picked him out of the crowd. The pattern of escalating attacks spoke to each of the attacks being premeditated. Izuku’s attack could have almost only have been random. Which was outside the pattern.

He growled, snapped his jaws. “What else is there?”

Tsukauchi studied him, flipped through the file. “Known similarities between victims are that they are all omegas, with Midoriya being the only male omega. They all had at least one pup, ages two to five years old. None of the pups have been known to have presented, though a couple did have registered Quirks. There was both male and female pups. All of them went missing at the same time as their omega, but there’s been no evidence to where they have gone or if they’d been with their omega during the murder. The exception is, of course, Kazue Midoriya, who was known to have been taken with his omega and kept nearby during the attack.”

A thought lined up in the information, something that had Katuski pausing. “Were they all single?”

Tsukauchi nodded. “All of them. We weren’t able to confirm fathers for many of the pups, either.” The inspector cut him a glance that made Katsuki’s skin prickle. He knew Kazue technically fell in line with that statistic. “The fathers we were able to confirm said they hadn’t been in contact with the victims for at least several months.”

Single omegas with pups. That was the victim profile. Izuku was only different in that he was a male omega. Not an insignificant differentiator, but one that could be explained away. Primary genders didn’t always have bearings on how people perceived one another. Alphas in particular were known to only care about someone’s scent, their secondary gender. And male omegas were much rarer than female omegas. Especially single male omegas with pups. So maybe there was statistics coming into play.

So, it was still possible. Izuku still fit in the profile.

Katsuki clicked his teeth together. “Anything else?”

Tsukauchi nodded, pulled out more photos. Photos of the omegas’ bodies. Some of them from the crime scenes, still bloody. Even though he knew it was coming, Katsuki still wasn’t quite prepared to face the photos of Izuku. Laid in his hospital bed. Wrapped in bandages. Tubes stuck all throughout his body. Even so, the marks on his body clearly mirrored the other omegas’. In particular, the bite marks stuck out.

Staring at those wounds, Katsuki remembered Mai’s suggestion in the hospital, that the alpha’s Quirk was related to his alpha pheromones.

As Tsukauchi opened his mouth to speak, Katsuki spoke over him, “What’s Yokoyama’s Quirk?”

The inspector paused. “He never registered one.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Mai thought it could be related to enhanced alpha instincts.”

A slight twitch came to the inspector’s face and he scribbled something in his notebook. “An interesting theory. You don’t remember seeing him use a Quirk?”

The hero shook his head. “No. And I was watching for one. Only weird thing was Izuku and Kazue falling unconscious when they were bitten.”

Tsukauchi scratched the back of his pen along his forehead, glaring into the file. He scribbled something more. “Anything else stood out to you so far?”

Even if he knew there wasn’t, Katsuki paused to think, shook his head. “Any other similarities?”

With a nod, Tsukauchi continued, “All of the omegas were taken to secluded sites where they were all violated and beaten. The alpha then abandoned the bodies, except, of course, for Midoriya. It’s unclear at this time if they were all kidnapped as Midoriya was or if any of them were lured to the site of the murder willingly.”

Katsuki had read all this in the file, of course. But it didn’t make the sting of Tsukauchi’s words any less painful. Katuski growled shortly. “And?”

The inspector sighed heavily, shook his head. “That’s it on the similarities. We can move on to the differences now, unless you have anything more to add.” Katsuki paused to think over everything, to turn the information over in his head. But the pieces still didn’t quite line up in a way that made sense, so he shook his head. “These are the differences that make connecting Midoriya’s case to the others hard to justify. It’s important if you can clear anything up that you say something.” With an impatient growl, Katsuki gestured for him to continue, the inspector holding up his hand. “First difference is, of course, Midoriya’s primary gender.”

The hero clicked his tongue. “Can be explained away. Lots of alphas only care about secondary genders.”

“True, but it is a point to consider,” Tsukauchi seemed to search him, though he continued on without saying anything on it, “Midoriya was also the only one to be restrained to any degree. You said with makeshift rope made from the alpha’s torn shirt?”

Katsuki set his teeth. “Right.”

“Additionally, Midoriya was held for up to three days while we suspect the other omegas were murdered within hours of being taken.”

“I don’t think that was planned. The alpha was reacting to the situation.” Katsuki paused, took in a breath as he felt his lips twitch toward a snarl. “I don’t know if he intended for Midoriya to survive. Just as much as I don’t think he intended to kill those omegas. It wasn’t something he directly wanted. Just a result of what he actually did want.”

Tsukauchi was quiet, watching him. “Which was?”

This time, Katsuki let himself snarl fully. “You said they were all raped, didn’t you? He only ever seemed interested in that, at least with Izuku. His methods were… rough, to say the least.” He paused, watched the detective’s growing scrawl on his notepad. “If it was Yokoyama, then he never directly acted to kill Izuku. He just never did anything to stop it from happening.”

The inspector paused, skimmed over his notes. “So, why do you think Midoriya survived when the others didn’t?”

It was a valid question. For as beat up as he had been, Izuku wasn’t dead. Some of the other omegas had much worse injuries than he had, and that had been done to them in a much shorter time frame. So what was different about Izuku?

Katsuki chewed at his cheek, tried to think back to what he knew. He knew the alpha had attacked Izuku multiple times. He knew Izuku had been badly hurt. He knew Izuku had fought like hell.

He knew the omega had actually harmed the alpha. Twice.

“Defensive wounds,” the words jumped out of his mouth before he knew he’d said them. For a moment, both hero and inspector were a little startled by the words, but Katsuki pressed forward. “Did any of the other omegas have defensive wounds?”

Tsukauchi considered him, flipped through the file. “Some broken nails. A few scratches. Nothing major.”

The hero nodded, growled. “That’s what it was. Izuku fought like hell. The others may have too, but Izuku hurt him more than the others did. Tore off an ear and nearly tore out his throat.” He shook his head. “My guess, Yokoyama couldn’t spend as much time with Izuku as he wanted to. He had to take care of his own wounds. I do remember him having bandages on his neck and his ear. And Yokoyama only tied up Izuku after he almost tore his throat out.”

Understanding raced through Tsukauchi’s eyes, though he strangely put his pen down. “It wasn’t to keep him in that room. It was to keep him from fighting back.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki felt a little swell of pride, as much as he possibly could given the situation, “Yokoyama tied Izuku up just to make sure he didn’t kill him. Because he sure as hell tried to.”

Tsukauchi wrinkled his nose, clicked his pen. He sighed, scribbled. “Nobody should have to fight that hard for their own life or the life of their child.”

There was no arguing with him. He was absolutely right.

There was nothing he could say, nothing that words alone could fix. So, he said nothing, waited as the inspector wrote his notes, organized his thoughts.

Finally, he sat back, looked up at Katsuki. “I suppose the final point is we haven’t been able to nail down what happened to the pups.”

“Right,” Katsuki stared hard at the pups’ file. “You really don’t know anything about what happened to them?”

Tuskauchi shook his head. “In many cases, we didn’t even realize the pups were missing. Once we started to connect some of the dots in Midoriya’s case, we looked into the omegas more and discovered the pups as well. Even the ones we were aware of, we weren’t certain of the connection until the details you gave about Kazue.”

As the inspector spoke, Katsuki shook his head. “The alpha wasn’t interested in Kazue until he tried to run away.”

“Which is significant in and of itself,” Tsukauchi leaned forward. “He seemed to have no interest in Kazue, not even as leverage against Midoriya. So why did he care to take him in the first place?”

Katsuki clicked his teeth. “Clean up the trail. No one to alert someone that something’s wrong.”

“If he wanted that, he could have just killed the pup.”

It was the simple answer. But it still made Katsuki’s blood boil.

Either ignoring or not noticing his anger, Tsukauchi continued, “In addition, the pups still being unaccounted for mean they were taken for a reason. We just don’t know the reason.”

As much as he didn’t want to think about it, Katsuki did. He mulled over what he knew, what he’d seen. But nothing came to mind. No magical answer. Nothing that explained any of this madness.

He snapped his jaws, glared hard at Tsukauchi. “Don’t think I can help you with that. Kazue hasn’t said anything and I can’t think of anything significant. Only that Yokoyama was very interested in Izuku, until Kazue acted up. Then he would focus on him, on trying to control him. The one time he lost focus is the time Kazue got away and found Kirishima and me, but he was still chasing the pup from what I can tell. Maybe up until he saw us.”

“He left Midoriya to chase down Kazue,” Tsukauchi repeated.

“Yeah,” Katsuki growled. “You have an idea?”

“More like a bad feeling,” the inspector sat back. “There’s one more thing you should know.” While Katsuki narrowed his eyes, the inspector rifled through some of the papers on his desk. “We haven’t been able to locate Yokoyama, but we were able to confirm he visited a single store out in the city.”

Something like stone, something like dread, sunk into Katsuki’s stomach. His mind told him what he thought couldn’t be truth, that he was just jumping to conclusions. Somehow, he knew he wasn’t. He watched as Tsukauchi pulled out a photo, turned it to lay in front of Katsuki. The hero only needed a glance to know what it was.

Yokoyama, standing in the middle of a small but neat convenience store, speaking to a small, wrinkled old man.

The alpha who had nearly killed Izuku, standing in Aoki’s store, just below the omega’s apartment.

The worst part, Katsuki glanced at the timestamp on the photo, realized the alpha had been at the store only hours after he and Izuku had been by the omega’s apartment. Only a few hours had separated Katsuki getting his hands on that bastard.

Only hours separated Izuku having to face that bastard again.

The thought of Izuku being anywhere near Yokoyama made Katsuki’s hands shake, even knowing he had been right with the omega the entire time. And it was proof. Proof that the alpha knew exactly where the omega lived. There wasn’t enough karma or luck in the universe to convince Katuski that this was anything but deliberate. Yokoyama had come to Aoki’s store looking for Izuku.

“The apartment,” Katsuki snarled, “did he get inside?”

Tsukauchi shook his head. “No. There’s a camera outside the store where we could see him. He noticed the staircase, but didn’t go up it. However, as I’m sure you’ve realized, that does mean that while he’s out in the city, Midoriya’s apartment is no longer safe.”

Something cold shot all along Katsuki’s body. Because he’d been trying to tell Izuku that it was okay if he wanted to go home, if he wanted to be with someone else. That the omega could have so easily been in that apartment when Yokoyama had come looking for him. And also that, under no circumstance, could he allow Izuku or Kazue back to that apartment. Not alone. Not while Yokoyama was still out there.

Their fears had been right. The omega was still in danger. And he wouldn’t truly be safe until Yokoyama was locked up.

How am I going to tell Izuku? It was the part of his job that Katsuki had never really been good at. Interacting with victims. Giving bad news. Luckily, heroes weren’t often in the position to be giving any news, but on occasion it did happen. On those few occasions, Katuski did his best to make sure someone else was the bearer of said bad news, because he’d never really figured out how to do it right. This news, however, had to come from him. Izuku had to understand that he wasn’t safe outside of the packhouse. That it might be even after when his arm was healed before he could go safely home. Figuring out how to tell the omega that without sounding like he was trying to keep him in the packhouse for his own selfish wants was going to be tough. But Izuku had to know. This wasn’t something he could keep from the omega. That wouldn’t be right.

He let out a short growl when the inspector tilted his head toward him, waiting for an answer. “Izuku and Kazue are staying with my pack for now. They’ll be safe there. We’ll make sure they keep safe until Yokoyama is caught.”

Tsukauchi nodded, once. “I don’t think I have to explain to you how important Midoriya’s safety is.” Katsuki lifted his lip in a snarl at the suggestion, though the inspector just chuckled. “And with that, that’s all we have right now. Is there anything else you can think of?”

“No, but I do have something to say,” Katsuki leaned forward, catching Tsukauchi’s attention. “You’ve briefed me on this case. I have a stake in it. You clearly need more manpower. So,” he let his snarl deepen, felt his palms tingling, “you better let me help you on this case. Let me help you track this asshole down.”

Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s because of your personal stake that I don’t feel comfortable having you be a full-time member of the team. That being said,” he paused, ran a thumb over his lips. Katsuki kept very still, glaring at the inspector, ready to protest if necessary. However, Tsukauchi met his gaze, held his glare. “You’re right, we do need the manpower. So I will be requesting continued support from your agency. Your role will be limited, but I can’t say no to help in finding Yokoyama, not with him being such a threat. So you’ll be hearing from us.” Katsuki felt his snarl spill over into a smirk of furious glee, which was cut off suddenly with a sharp word from the inspector, “However, I expect you to be on your best behavior for this case. There’s too much at stake for you to lose your temper and ruin this for us.” He matched Katsuki’s glare with one of his own. “You will act to my standards, or you won’t be invited to participate.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

The inspector seemed a little surprised as Katsuki sat back, let his glare soften, his snarl fall away, dropping into something determined, something steadfast. Something that very clearly understood the importance of this moment. “I’ll do anything to see Yokoyama pay for what he did. But I’m not eager to have my hero license stripped. I still have to reach the number one rank, after all. Can’t do that as a vigilante.”

Tsukauchi studied him, shook his head, a smile loosening his lips. “At least you’re honest, if nothing else.” He held out his hand. “Glad to work with you, Ground Zero.”

It was with a great smirk that Katsuki took his hand. “I don’t take orders often. So you better take advantage while you have it.”

Tsukauchi nodded. “I can work with that.”

- - -

Stepping from the quiet, if not calm, air of the inspector’s office into the madhouse of the rest of the department was only slightly jarring. Mostly, Katsuki was focused on what he’d been told, what he now knew, what he knew he had to do next.

His first priority was to return to the packhouse and check in on Izuku and Kazue. He would never admit it out loud, but seeing Yokoyama in Aoki’s shop had shivers crawling up and down his spine. He just wanted to see the omega and pup. Make sure they were okay. Warn Izuku not to leave the house without someone with him. Because if Yokoyama had found his apartment, who was to say whether he could track Izuku down to the packhouse as well. Even if the alpha figured out that was where he was living, he’d never get the chance to hurt either Izuku or Kazue while they were in the house. And that was perhaps the one thing that kept Katsuki from rushing back to the omega and pup and refusing to leave their side again. As it was, he barely had enough time to go see Izuku before he had to go on patrol with Kirishima for a couple of hours, but he could sacrifice some downtime before patrol to see Izuku, to just reassure himself everything was okay and would be okay.

As focused as he was, he almost missed when someone called out to him, until they stepped right into his path.

Detective Ito was starting to become a pain in his ass and Katsuki let him know with a deep snarl. Ito didn’t even seem to notice. “Glad I caught you before you left,” he said.

“I’m not. Get out of the way.”

Ito held up his hand even as Katsuki tried to move past him. “Listen. I know you must be worried about Midoriya, but don’t. I told you I’m going to find Yokoyama and I intend to keep my word.”

There were so many other things Katsuki would have preferred to be doing rather than listening to him talk. Somehow, he just kept getting in the way. Clearly, something kept him standing there and honestly, Katuski was getting sick of it.

“I never asked for your help. Do what are you still doing here?”

“I’m a police detective,” Ito shrugged. “It’s my job.”

Katsuki snapped his jaw, settled on a growl. “You’re the one who said you’re off this case. So why are you so persistent?”

Ito chuckled seemed a little nervous. “Well, I’m kind of the hero liaison for the department. It’s my duty to keep good relations with all the heroes we interact with. And you are particularly prickly, so it takes a lot of work.”

“You want my trust? My cooperation? Don’t bullshit me.” He shoved his face into Ito’s, the detective leaning slightly away for the first time. “You have something to say to me, just say it already!”

“All right, all right!” Ito threw his hands up in surrender, leaning onto the corner of a nearby desk, tried so hard to look unruffled. Katsuki saw through it all and it just made him want to snarl all the more. “The truth is, I’m a bit of hero fan myself. Wanted to be a hero actually, but, well,” he shrugged, “detective’s not that bad, all things considered.”

“Who isn’t a hero fan nowadays,” Katsuki growled. “You couldn’t cut it, you shouldn’t have been a hero.”

“Hey now,” Ito laughed, but there came a sour note to his voice, a hard line that Katsuki was eager to smash. “I did study to be a hero for a while. Got into a real hero program and everything. It may not have been U.A., but it was respectable enough.”

“You didn’t make the cut,” Katsuki repeated.

Ito shrugged. “No. No, I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m not worthy of trying to help others. I’m okay with taking a backseat.” His eyes flicked up to Katsuki, tilted toward him with judgment. “Would you be okay with that?”

It was a sore point. One that Katsuki wasn’t too happy the detective had found so easily.

He snapped his jaws, turned away. “You want to help find Yokoyama, fine. I won’t stop people from trying to track down that bastard. But don’t get in my way.”

He stormed past Ito, didn’t look back. He did, however, hear when the detective chuckled, “Yes, sir, Mr. Ground Zero.”

Once upon a time, Katsuki would have turned to snarl at the sarcastic tone. In that moment, all that mattered was getting to the packhouse, getting to Izuku and Kazue, making sure they were safe.

Nothing else could ever matter as much as that. Not ever again.

- - -

It was, maybe for the first time in a long time, a breath of fresh air, a wonderful moment of peace, an instant calming feeling, to step over the property line and up to the packhouse.

Since he was going back out on patrol, Katsuki hadn’t changed out of any of his gear. It was the third time ever he’d been in the packhouse in his costume in just as many weeks. But honestly, he didn’t care.

He needed to see Kazue.

He needed to see Izuku.

He needed to know they were okay.

So he stomped into the packhouse, raised his nose to try to pick up on the omega’s scent. At first, he didn’t smell anything save for the muddled scent of the pack. But then, newer, fresher smells met his senses. Cinnamon, summer nights, pine trees swaying in the wind.

The strongest was Kazue’s scent, so he followed it, realized he tasted apple nestled in the cinnamon.

He found Kazue in the kitchen laying in front of the oven, his legs kicking up in the air. Leaned against the counter nearby with a sleeping Takahiro on her chest, Yaoyorozu looked up as Katsuki entered the room.

“Oh, Bakugo! We weren’t expecting you home so soon!”

Her voice was overridden by an excited chirp from Kazue, who leaped up and glomped onto his alpha’s leg.

“Kacchan, Kacchan! Welcome back!”

Katsuki ruffled his hair. “I can’t stay long, Kaz. Just came to say hello.”

“Hello!” The pup grinned. “Takahiro and Yamomo and I are making an apple pie! I’ve never made an apple pie before!”

That’s what the smell is.

Katsuki rumbled out a low growl. “Her pies are pretty good.”

“She promised me it’s super yummy!”

Katsuki shrugged. “Save some room for soba tonight.”

Kazue chirped happily again. “Yes! Soba!”

Katsuki watched as the pup turned back to the oven, plopping in front of it again. When he glanced up, he saw Yaoyorozu watching the pup fondly. The scene in that kitchen was a far cry from the day the pup had run sobbing away from the female alpha.

It was so much progress. Something he wanted to celebrate. But he didn’t have time to do much more than to just appreciate the moment.

Yaoyorozu giggled, pulling Katsuki’s attention. “You look happy, Bakugo.”

The alpha paused, wrinkled his nose. “Don’t fill him up on sweets.”

“It’s for after dinner,” Yaoyorozu said matter-of-factly, which earned a yip of protest from Kazue.

As the female alpha laughed again, but Katsuki leaned toward her. “Where’s Izuku?”

She nodded upstairs. “Taking a nap.”

“In his room?” Katsuki had already turned toward the staircase when Yaoyorozu shook her head.

“Pack room, actually.”

Surprise stopped Katsuki, had him turning to look at her, but she was focused on Kazue, the pup demanding a taste of the pie before dinner. Biting down on a growl, the alpha made his way to the staircase. At the top, he paused outside the pack room, leaned in to see if he could hear anything. Then, he knocked at the door.

“Izuku? You in there?” He paused. Didn’t hear anything. Slowly, he opened the door, peered inside.

Izuku was curled up at the edge of the large nest, burrowed into the cushions and blankets. Almost as if he were curled up in his own nest. The sight puzzled Katsuki. Izuku wasn’t part of the pack. He’d clearly said he didn’t want to be in the pack. So why was he sleeping in the one place that smelled the strongest of the pack?

Slowly, he approached the sleeping omega, reached a hand toward him. “Izuku?”

At his touch, Izuku tensed, his eyes flying open, pupils reduced to slits. Katsuki immediately backed away, knocking full well the omega was on the verge of lashing out.

“Izuku,” he said softly, letting off more of his scent, hoping if nothing else the omega would recognize him. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

Izuku’s eyes locked onto Katsuki. Blinked. Blinked again. Each time he did, his pupils dilated a little more and he relaxed, eventually lifting himself up.

“Katsuki?” He muttered.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Katsuki crouched next to him.

The omega rubbed at his eyes. “What time is it? Can’t be that late already, is it?”

“It’s not. I just came home for a moment.” He paused as Izuku mumbled something incoherent. “Wake up some more. I need to talk to you.”

“Just say it,” Izuku sighed, laid himself back down.

Katsuki could only imagine what the omega thought he had to say. “It’s important. Wake yourself up. Then come talk to me.”

As Katsuki stood, Izuku lifted himself up to watch him, a curious if not subdued expression on his face. The alpha stepped out of the room, but didn’t go far, leaning against the wall nearby. He didn’t have to wait long for Izuku to emerge, running his fingers through his unruly hair. He paused as Katsuki pushed off the wall and nodded down the hall.

“We should talk private. Your room okay?”

Izuku looked him up and down, clearly noting the costume. Then, he nodded, led the way.

The rest of the packhouse was thankfully quiet, Katsuki not very sure who was there and who was out on patrol or at the agency. Not that it mattered much. It was just important they have a quiet moment.

Down the hall, Izuku opened his bedroom door, nodded his permission before Katsuki stepped inside. The room hadn’t changed much. Still largely decked out in hero merchandise, though Izuku had clearly organized some of it to make room for some of his stuff. What stuck out most though was the empty bed, Kazue’s nest missing. Though perhaps it made sense that the pup would share a nest with his omega. Katsuki glanced over to the closet, but the door was shut.

“Well? What’s going on?” Despite having just been sleeping, Izuku sounded wide awake. Perhaps a skill he’d picked up as a single mom.

Not something Katsuki had time to think about. He turned, focused on the omega. Reached out to take his hand. Was grateful and happy when Izuku didn’t pull away.

“There’s no way to say this nicely, so I’ll just say it,” he paused. Looked Izuku straight in the eye. “Ryo Yokoyama, the alpha that attacked you,” Izuku tensed, started squirming, but Katsuki tightened his grip, “the police haven’t been able to find him, but he was seen at Aoki’s store.”

The omega didn’t react. He didn’t even blink. The first thing he was to let his jaw drop. “Is… is Mr. Aoki okay?”

Katsuki nodded. “He wasn’t hurt. It was during store hours, so there were other customers in the store. But that does mean that your apartment really isn’t safe for you or Kazue right now. Not until we find him and, Izuku, please listen to me,” the omega’s eyes had dropped, but Katsuki lifted his chin, a gentle touch to his face, “I will find him. I will find him and stop him and make sure he never hurts you again. But until I do, you and Kazue can’t go back there.”

Izuku stared past him, into some horrifying past, a thought, a memory, but eventually, he faced Katsuki. Took the alpha’s hand to pull it away from his face, though he kept hold.

“I…,” he swallowed, shook his head, “I… understand.”

Katsuki studied him, tried to glean some understanding in his words, his tone, his face. He didn’t know everything. But he could clearly see the omega struggling with something.

“Izuku, I’m so sorry.”

The omega focused on him, gave a little smirk. “What for?”

“That this is happening. That we haven’t been able to find him.”

“You’re trying. And I know you are.” Izuku let go of his hand, rubbed his arm, played with the straps on his cast. “I know Kazue and I are safe here. We won’t go back until we know it’s safe there, too.”

“Just promise me you won’t go alone.”

Izuku barked out a dry laugh. “Yeah. I’ll promise that. Just promise me you won’t get yourself killed trying to find and stop him.”

“Ha!” Katsuki smirked. “Bastard like that can’t kill me, no matter what he might try.”

Again, Izuku laughed, a little more genuinely. But his smile faded quickly away, his fingers tugging at his cast.

Katsuki watched him, then, on a whim, reached out to take that hand, to stop him from playing with the cast. Pulled his hand up, kissed the omega’s knuckles.

Izuku snorted. “Why do you keep doing that, Katsuki?”

“Because I missed you,” he tilted his head slightly. “And because you’re beautiful and you should know that.”

The omega’s smirk fell away, tripping into uncertainty and worry. Seeing that, Katsuki lowered his hand, let him go.

“Just relax, please. Heal up. Get better. Let me handle that bastard and don’t worry about that.” He paused as Izuku nodded over and over again. “You sleeping well?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“You look tired.”

He shook his head. “It’s a side effect of one of the doctors’ Quirks. Low energy for up to two weeks.”

Katsuki lowered his brows. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Katsuki.” Izuku shook his head. Paused as a familiar silenced stretched between them. Reached out to run his fingers along the alpha’s gauntlets. “I… like the modifications.”

Katsuki lifted his hand, stared at the gauntlet. “Remind me sometime, I’ll show you how they work.”

“Okay,” Izuku shifted from one foot to the other, falling back into the silence.

Katsuki took it for what it was – the omega searching for a way out of the conversation. “I have to get back to the agency. I’ll be back to make dinner later tonight.”

As he stepped to the door, Izuku followed, humming thoughtfully. “Kazue keeps talking about your soba. Apparently, he’s a big fan.”

“Oh yeah? Well good.”

The alpha and omega paused in the hallway as Iida’s door opened suddenly and the pack alpha yawned his way out into the hallway.

He blinked blearily at the two, then his eyes widened. “Bakugo! You know there’s no hero costumes in the packhouse!”

Katuski growled, but he stopped when he heard Izuku chuckle beside him, paused to listen, to hear such a wonderful sound. Even if it meant he did have to listen to Iida begin lecturing him on the importance of keeping the integrity of the packhouse’s home rules.

Chapter Text

It was a normal day.

It should have been a normal day.

A day like any other.

A day of fighting and fighting and fighting and—

But somehow, somehow it was different.

He could feel it. Somewhere deep within him. He knew it, the moment he flew in from the side, breaking through a wall of howling wind and crumbling debris, confronting the villain at its heart as the tornado tore apart the city He knew it the moment he broke through that cloud of debris to face a girl, no older than any of the school kids on their way to school right at that moment. He knew from the horrified, terrified look on her face. He knew from the way she looked at him and he looked at her.

That day should have been a normal day.

But it wasn’t going to be.

He landed several feet away from her, digging in his heels against the wind to keep to his feet. Opposite him, the girl stood still and unmoved, as if the wind dared not touch her.

“Oi,” he growled, and she flinched back, “just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I—” the girl took in a ragged breath, pressed a hand to her face, “I don’t know. I didn’t mean to. This isn’t supposed to be—” she gasped and shuddered and took a step away from him. “St-stay back. Stay away from me!”

Katsuki growled, sunk low into his stance. “Stop wrecking the place and this won’t have to get any nastier.”

The girl took another step back, shook and shivered, stumbled when Katsuki approached. “Stay away!”

“Stop your own personal tornado and we’ll talk!”

“I can’t!” The girl let out a sob that had Katsuki pausing.

He knew lies. He’d been lied to so often by criminals trying to get out of a beating. And this girl. She didn’t sound like she was lying.

“Why not?” He growled.

The girl shook her head, looked around in awe and horror at the swirl of wind and broken bits of concrete, street signs, other parts of the road. She raised her other hand, pressed it to her head. “I… I—”

“Just do it already! Stop using your Quirk!” Katsuki stepped forward and the girl screamed and the tornado whipped around in a fury, dragging at the hero’s limbs, threatening to toss him into the storm and break him apart piece by piece.

The girl, however, didn’t seem to notice, her scream turning into a desperate shriek that rose over the roar of the wind, “I don’t have a Quirk!”

And again, Katsuki actually believed her.

But… if she didn’t have a Quirk, then what was happening? Who was conjuring the tornado? He looked for the source, but it was almost impossible to see with everything flying through the air around them. Everyone had been busy running away when he’d arrived and he hadn’t noticed anyone lingering. So… who was it?

But of course, there was only on answer.

Katsuki turned back to the girl, snapped his jaw. “You’re a late bloomer.” And one with a powerful Quirk.

It didn’t make the situation any more manageable with this knowledge. Most Quirk users had years to gain control of their abilities before they spun out of control like this and there was no one, quick, easy way to stop someone on a rampage.

The best he could do in that moment – damage control. And maybe try to calm her down. Though he doubted he was the right person for that job.

Still, he did set his teeth and say, “If you want this to stop, you need to calm down.” The girl stared unbelieving at him. “Quirks are supposed to be a part of who you are. If you’re freaking out, your Quirk will react to that stress. So just sit down and take a fucking breath or something.” He turned toward the tornado, squinted into the spinning debris. “Meanwhile, cover your head. I need to start getting rid of some of this mess.”

“What are you—” she didn’t get to finish her question before Katsuki focused in on a particularly large piece of concrete and shot an explosive round at it. The concrete blew itself into dust and the girl screamed, covering her head.

“I said calm down! You want to destroy the entire city or something?!”

The girl just sunk to her knees and sobbed.

Katsuki growled, tried to focus on the debris. He could destroy some of it, but ultimately, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get anywhere with it. The girl would just keep tearing up the street with her freaky tornado of destruction. And the more upset she was becoming, the stronger the winds were getting, the more even Katsuki was starting to struggle to keep his feet on the ground.

He was still trying to formulate a plan when just beyond the shrieking of the wind, he swore he heard someone screaming, and something shot through the wall of wind and debris to skid to a halt next to him.

Kirishima, his skin hardened to withstand the impact of the debris, grinned up at Katsuki. “Hey man! How’s it going? You stood me up like three weeks ago, you know!”

Katsuki snapped his jaws. “Not the time!” He nodded to the girl, who was staring at Kirishima with slightly less distrust than before. “She’s lost control of her Quirk. I need to start getting some of the more dangerous stuff out of the air. Cover her and maybe get her to calm the fuck down some!”

“You got it!” Kirishima rushed over to the girl, covering her with his body while smiling and speaking to her quietly but calmly.

Meanwhile, Katsuki refocused on the swirl of debris in the air. There was so much that the sky had practically gone dark. There was no way to tell just how much damage had been done nor how big the tornado had gotten, if anyone had been hurt, if anyone was trapped. The storm obscured everything. They needed to get it under control and fast.

There was really only one way to do that efficiently. As much as Kirishima was going to be better at calming the girl down than Katsuki ever would be, he wasn’t convinced that was going to do the trick. At this point, the tornado had taken on a life of its own. The girl was conduit, but the storm had a will, almost a sentience. Katsuki could feel its malice in the pulsing, tearing winds, how hear its deep, furious howling quivering in his bones. He needed to do something, before it got any more dangerous.

There was really only one solution.

He glanced over his shoulder, saw that one, Kirishima was indeed protecting the girl, and two, that he was completely distracted by both talking to her and keeping her safe. His attention was fully away from Katsuki. Which was good. Because no doubt if he realized what Katsuki was about to do, he’d have something to say about it.

It was without much thought that Katsuki faced his palms toward the ground and shot himself up into the air. He had long grown accustomed to flying around using his explosions. Even in winds this strong, he knew how to angle himself to get to the right position, carefully maneuvering into the storm until he found himself floating at its heart, just above the girl and Kirishima, right where the winds seemed to converge and spin wildly. The roaring was louder here. Katsuki wouldn’t have been able to hear himself think.

If, that is, he was thinking.

Which he didn’t really allow himself to do.

Because, as he opened his palms wide, he didn’t really want to think.

Not anymore.

Everyone had a limit.

Katsuki had always known his.

He’d always known that he could so easily push over those limits.

It was hard to tell, exactly, how big the explosion was. Being at its heart, all Katsuki was aware of was searing heat and sound so loud he heard nothing at all and a wave that rolled through his body, seemed to linger at his heart and lungs. The air around him vibrated. The storm gave a horrendous shriek. Somewhere, at the back of his mind, Katsuki was aware that his fingers ached and his arms felt like jelly. Aware that he hadn’t even bothered to try to counteract this explosion. That the force of the explosion was throwing him back down to the concrete below.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, he knew all of this.

But he found he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

He hit the ground with an equal force to what he had expelled out into the air. As the storm blew itself apart from the inside, the winds rushing outward as if released from a container. Katsuki felt his body smash into the ground, felt bones shifting, his muscles zinging with pain. So much so that his brain seemed to short circuit, the he was aware of a deep, piercing agony, of the fact that his lungs couldn’t seem to pull in any air, but he couldn’t quite make the connections that the pain was his own.

When he tried to move, his body revolted, Katsuki feeling bile rise up his throat.

When he opened his eyes, it was to sunlight, but only briefly. Then, someone was leaned over him, calling his name. His hero name at first, though that was quickly abandoned.

It took a little bit of wrestling, with his body, his mind, his will to listen, but he finally realized that it was Kirishima leaned over him, the beta nearly snarling in fury.

“You idiot! What were you thinking?! You know better! I know you know better!”

Katsuki took in a breath, felt his chest shifting in ways it probably shouldn’t. Couldn’t care enough to feel the pain. “The… girl?”

“She’s fine! But you have to lay still, you hear me? You hit the ground hard and you need an ambulance!”

Katsuki tried to look for the girl, but he couldn’t see past Kirishima. He couldn’t hear her crying anymore, so he closed his eyes. “Just… go.”

“What?”

“Just… leave me here.”

Maybe it was an odd request. Maybe it was futile. Maybe it went against everything he’d thought about himself. But maybe, it was what he really wanted.

Kirishima was quiet. For a long time. So long, Katsuki thought he might have actually listened to his request.

Then, he felt a flick at his forehead. “You idiot. Don’t move, all right? Your back’s probably a mess. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, all right? We’ll get you some help.”

“I don’t— want it.”

“What, my help?” He could almost hear that stupid grin in the beta’s voice. “Sorry, Bakugo, but I’m not going to just leave you here. What kind of man would that make me?”

“We’ve already been through this.”

The beta laughed quietly, shifted. Katsuki was too tired to open his eyes to see what he was doing. “Yeah, I know. I let you push me away last time. That’s not going to happen again. You’re stuck with me now, Bakugo. You better get used to me.”

Katsuki set his teeth in a snarl that very suddenly cut off into a whine when he tried to raise his arms only for them to scream in pain. Kirishima put a hand on his chest, kept him pushed down. “I said don’t move! You’re hurt and we need to get you to the hospital.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“That’s not going to happen.” He could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Just let me handle it, all right? For once, just let someone else have your back. Literally, because seriously, I’m really worried you might be really hurt.”

Katsuki let out a snarl, a warning to stay away. It was enough that Kirishima paused, that the beta part of him was no doubt scared of the alpha in Katsuki. But it didn’t make him go away.

In fact, Katsuki felt the beta’s hand brush over his face, pull his mask away, gently lay over his eyes. “Just rest, okay? I’ll take care of things here. You just hang on a little longer.”

Maybe it would have been better for him to fight. But he was tired of fighting. He was tired.

So he lay there, as Kirishima comforted the girl and directed the emergency personnel who eventually showed up. Katsuki listened to it all play out, but he never once opened his eyes.

- - -

Paramedics took one look at him and immediately called ahead to the hospital to schedule an emergency surgery. Katsuki barely had time to comprehend that he was going under the knife and what for before he was anesthetized for the operation. When he woke, it was to searing pain in both his arms and his back, so much so that he growled and snapped and snarled at everyone who dared get near him. His one exception was Kirishima, who stayed by him, having left only briefly during his surgery to change out of his hero costume.

His injuries were not to be taken lightly: torn tendons and ligaments in his hands and arms, shoulders torn out of alignment, several broken ribs, a concussion, and, most severely, a broken back. The list was long and severe enough that Katsuki listened, but he didn’t feel like it was real. Because there was no way this was what he’d done to himself. There was no way he’d done this and survived.

It all had to be a joke right?

Kirishima, however, listened closely as the doctors explained everything, from his injuries to his treatments and his prognosis. The good news was there didn’t seem to be any nerve damage and Katsuki still retained feeling and movement in all his limbs, even if his right leg was a little prickly sometimes. The bad news was even with the help of healing Quirks, it was going to take him weeks to heal and he may have lingering pain for the rest of his life.

The doctors also delivered the news that he was being upheld as a great hero for saving the life of the girl and for stopping the growing storm before it could kill anyone. They called it his greatest achievement yet.

The irony of it all made Katsuki want to hurl.

Once the news had been delivered, once Katsuki had an understanding of everything that had happened, Kirishima pulled out his phone and stood. “I need to make a call. I’ll be right back.”

If he could have moved, Katsuki would have considered leaving while the beta was away. However, his back still hurt like hell and he was definitely not in any condition to even try to move from the bed, no matter how much he wanted to. So he laid back and tried to find a comfortable position, though that was difficult to say the least.

When the beta returned, Katsuki glared at him. “What was that about?”

Kirishima shook his head. “Just letting my pack know I won’t be home very much for the next few weeks.”

The alpha snapped his jaws. “You’re not coming home with me.”

Kirishima crossed his arms. “C’mon man. I know you don’t have anyone else to help you out and you can’t do this alone.”

“No way I’m letting you anywhere near my place again!”

The beta narrowed his eyes. It was as close to a glare as Katsuki had ever seen the beta give. “Bakugo, you do get how serious this is, right?” Katsuki snapped his jaws, but Kirishima continued, “You could have been killed. Hell, you were nearly paralyzed. Do you really not care anymore? What happened to being the number one hero? What happened to always winning the fight and being the best there is? You drop out of the top ten rank and what? You just give up?” He paused, but Katsuki refused to speak. “Seriously man, what’s gotten into you? Where’s your fight gone?”

There weren’t words to answer that question. None that Katsuki could quite grasp.

So he grasped for something he’d said before, reaching for familiar habits and motions he’d been through so many times before, growling shortly. “I don’t need your help.”

“Then tell me your plan. You’re going to need help walking for the next few weeks. If you fall, there’s no way you’re going to be able to get back up on your own. You just planning on going home and rotting away?”

“Shut up!” Katsuki snarled and snapped his jaws, saw his vision tunneling red around the edges. “Don’t you dare talk down to me!”

“I’m not. I’m just trying to get you to see sense. Seriously, you weren’t even this bad when we were in school. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing! You’re just pissing me off! If you really want to help, then leave me alone already!”

“Is that what you want? To just be alone so you don’t have to feel so bad as you slowly kill yourself?”

It was a clear challenge, the beta refusing to back down to Katsuki. A challenge that could not be ignored. Every instinct in his body howled for him to act, to snap forward, to put the beta in his place.

Before he really could stop himself, he did try to leap forward, a snarl in his voice that quickly crumbled not a howl of agony. His back rippled in ways he knew it shouldn’t, a white-hot agony searing down his middle and radiating out into his fingertips. He collapsed backward, choked on bile, his entire body rebelling. It was quelled slightly by a sturdy hand on his shoulder, the beta’s scent washing over him as Kirishima leaned forward, calling his name. He looked up, but his vision was a pinpoint, overwhelmed by the color red.

The pain faded slowly, just as slowly as the world came back to itself. In so much time, Katsuki was aware of people passing in and out of the room, but there was a constant streak of red at his side.

When he finally blinked open his eyes, through a line of dried salt and grime, he saw Kirishima sitting there, his head tilted to the side, fast asleep.

Katsuki watched him, wrestled with the idea of him still being there, of himself being stuck in that damn bed. He bit the inside of his cheek, set his teeth against the swelling in his throat.

“Okay,” he snarled at the sleeping beta, “fine. I’ll let you help me. Just this once.”

- - -

With the help of some rather impressive doctors and nearly round-the-clock care, in two weeks Katsuki was back on his feet and ready to go home. His arms and hands were nearly fully healed, though they both remained in irritating bracers. His back hurt off and on and was incredibly stiff from how much he’d been laying in bed, but his prognosis was overall good.

The doctors told him he’d be back to fighting villains in no time flat.

Katsuki didn’t hardly bother to listen to them.

Kirishima had taken time to come visit every day since Katsuki had entered the hospitalHe increasingly spent more time each day trying to convince Katsuki to let him help around his apartment while he was recovering. Katsuki never spoke on this subject, not until the day before he was scheduled to be released from the hospital. Then, when the beta entered the room, the alpha glared at him.

“Contact Jiyura at the agency. She’ll get you a key to my place.”

Kirishima blinked at him, seemed confused for more than just a few moments, but when it all suddenly clicked, he scrambled for his phone and called the agency Katsuki worked for before he could change his mind. He never did bother to tell Kirishima he’d made up his mind weeks earlier.

When the day came to finally release Katsuki from the hospital, both his agency and Kirishima’s took every precaution with the hospital to hide this fact from the media, who had been swarming ever since Katsuki’s “accident.” The last thing the alpha wanted to do was face those wolves, especially in his state. After bundling him up in an absurd amount of clothing and Kirishima actually forgoing doing up his iconic hairdo, a nurse pushed a grumpy Katsuki in a wheelchair and to a car waiting at the back of the hospital. Both Kirishima and the nurse helped him out of the wheelchair and into the car, both now long used to the constant growling of indignation and pain from the alpha. Once Katsuki was safely in the car, Kirishima got into the driver’s seat and they quickly left the hospital, the media none the wiser.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Katsuki wrinkled his nose. The car smelled of Kirishima’s pack. That being said, it wasn’t an unfamiliar scent. In fact, he could pick out several scents amongst the congregation that he very clearly recognized. There was Kaminari, Mina, Sero, even Iida and Todoroki. It wasn’t a surprise, not really. Katsuki had known about the pack since right after graduation. He’d been invited to join, encouraged even, at its inception, a suggestion that, at the time, he’d simply growled at.

Somehow, there was something comforting about their scents. Even if it did make him a little uneasy being surrounded by so many, especially the alpha scents.

He didn’t bring it up, nor did he think on it long, leaning back and just enjoying the sun on his face, even through the windshield.

As they went along, the car bumped over a hole, jolting Katsuki and forcing a yelp out at the sudden snap of pain along his back.

“Sorry,” Kirishima sounded both worried and cowed, “I’ll be more careful.”

“It’s fine. Just get us to the building already.”

The beta nodded, smiled softly at him. “You excited to go home?”

Katsuik clicked his teeth. “Whatever.” Kirishima glanced at him, but didn’t say anything.

It took far too long to get to the apartment and even longer for Kirishima to help Katsuki get out of the car and up the stairs to the front door. By the time they finally got inside, Katsuki collapsed, panting and sweating, on the couch. Kirishima rushed around the apartment, grabbing pillows and blankets and setting him up right there in the living room.

“There. You doing better?” The alpha growled lowly, but Kirishima just laughed. “Rest up. We’ll move you into the bedroom when you’re feeling up to it.”

He stood and glanced around the room, moved from one corner to the other. Lingered at the side table, which prominently showed a new photo of the entire Bakugo family, with a barely smiling Katsuki in frame. The beta raised a hand as if to take it, but brushed his fingers through his hair instead.

“Well. At least it’s looking a little better here.” Katsuki grumbled something, though even he wasn’t sure what words he’d said as the beta wandered over to the kitchen. “So, what am I going to find in the pantry? Any surprises I won’t be happy about?” He opened the fridge and the pantry at the same time, peering into both with a critical eye. “Just a couple cans of beer. There is a bottle of sake here though.”

“It’s for cooking,” Katsuki snapped.

“Good,” Kirishima pushed the fridge door shut, smiling widely. “First glances, this place is looking pretty normal. Wouldn’t have guessed a guy on the brink lived here. So,” he turned to Katsuki, “it’s been a few days. Mind telling me what all that was actually about?”

Even knowing Kirishima was watching him, Katsuki didn’t acknowledge him. He wasn’t sure what there was to say. How to explain how easy it had become for him to just move himself through the normalcies of day to day life, how easy it was to move through the things he’d done for years now when he didn’t care to do anything else. That there had been some small comfort in performing to what was expected of him. Nor did he know how to explain how acting out the normal things had made everything else so much harder.

So, he said nothing at all.

Whether Kirishima noticed or not, Katsuki couldn’t quite tell, as the beta paused only briefly before he went on about the physical regiment suggested by his doctors that he had to start as soon as possible to get back to hero work at some point. To this, Katsuki listened a bit more readily, if only so he didn’t have to think about anything else that might be on his mind.

- - -

It was a hellish couple of weeks. For more than one reason.

First and foremost was Katsuki struggling with sharp, sudden, stabbing pains through his back. These were often accompanied by or proceeded by throbbing pain in his hands and arms, making him fear the worst about his future as a hero. Second was the fact that Kirishima was in his territory and just generally around all the time. Adding to his discomfort, the beta constantly had to help him with simple tasks, especially during the first few days. And lastly, there came an uncomfortable truth between them. Kirishima was slowly figuring things out much more than Katsuki would ever want him to. As dense as he might be sometimes, he started picking up on the subtle behaviors and phrases Katsuki used when speaking of himself, typically answering any demeaning comments with a tilt of his head.

“Maybe you’re just being too hard on yourself,” he said at first, but those words quickly changed to, “Seriously, man, you can’t expect these kinds of things from yourself.”

And maybe it was that simple, but it also wasn’t that simple. Because there was a picture on the side table of him and his folks that he never allowed Kirishima to catch him looking at. And there were more photos, literally buried in the closet at this point, of a green-haired omega that Katsuki told himself he’d forgotten, but he absolutely had not. As spring changed to summer, he found his thoughts wandering toward that closet more times than he cared to admit. Especially since the beta basically living with him was starting to pick up on something being wrong.

Kirishima, when he wasn’t try to riddle Katsuki out, spent his time cheering him on, encouraging him in his recovery, helping him when he stumbled, and chastising him when he, more often than not, tried to overdo it. Despite his irritation with the beta, he became a constant support that Katsuki found himself turning to and leaning against. It was a familiar pattern. Something left over from their time at U.A. Something that had tried to surface two months ago when Kirishima had first barged his way into the apartment. Katsuki wouldn’t have called it uncomfortable nor unwelcome, but it was still strange to slip back into old habits. He’d forgotten how much he’d leaned on Kirishima for support and how much the beta had reciprocated when he’d silently asked for help.

He’d forgotten what having a best friend was like.

In addition to all his other duties, Kirishima also came and went every now and then to help support his pack, either through hero work or by running quicky errands when Katsuki was sleeping or once he’d gathered more of his strength. He never left the alpha for long and always seemed anxious upon returning until he confirmed everything was okay. Katsuki, for his part, snorted at the beta every time he said he’d worried about him.

Three weeks in, Katsuki was strong enough to start physical therapy. It was tough at first, Katsuki absolutely shocked at how quickly his physical prowess had diminished due to his injuries. Still, Kirishima stayed at his side and helped him along, never batting an eye when the alpha snarled either at him or at the universe.

And once, in the very dark of night, when Katsuki had been curled up in his bed, in more than just physical pain, somehow, Kirishima had known. Somehow, he’d known to knock at the door, to let himself in. To curl up with Katsuki, to tell him it was going to be okay. That no, he wasn’t worthless, and yes, this would end. Everything would get better, eventually.

And maybe Katsuki believed him.

And maybe he didn’t.

But the words mattered, as did his presence. So he let the beta sleep in his bed on more than one occasion, when he was just too tired or sad or apathetic to stop him.

He really did smell nice. The scent of his pack had faded by that point. Katsuki found he missed the faint scents of his former classmates on the beta, but mostly, he enjoyed tasting fresh air, an open window, a spring day.

Even if all he craved was the heat of summer.

- - -

Kirishima stood back, looked him up and down once, twice. “Well, well! You’re looking back to your old self!”

Katsuki let his snarl deepen. “Shut up, already.” He twisted his wrists, grimaced at the gauntlets on his arms. “I don’t remember these things being this heavy.”

The beta shrugged. “Well, at least you can wear it all somewhat comfortably.”

He wasn’t wrong. Pulling on his costume for the first time since the accident had felt strange. Refreshing in a way. Shameful in another. But both Kirishima and his doctors had recommended it. The truth was, he still had several rounds of physical therapy to get through on top of getting back into strength training for his hero work. He was a couple of weeks out from going back out on patrol, but his doctors were confident he would make a full recovery. He only had pains every now and then, mostly when he tweaked his back in certain ways or if he pushed himself particularly hard. The doctors were uncertain at this point if that was going to be permanent or not, though they cautioned him against testing it out later. Best just to let everything strengthen and see if that helped without hurting anything again.

So Katsuki didn’t think about it often, distracted instead by the sheer weight of his costume. Seriously, had he really worn this for years now? He needed an upgrade. Lighter material, smaller gauntlets. Things that would make movement easier, especially while in the air. Plus, he needed extra bracing added to his shirt to help support his back. As it was, he was wearing a separate back brace and it wasn’t quite fitting with the costume, but he wasn’t going to go without it. Not yet at least.

“So, you feeling any better now?” Kirishima asked. It was the beta’s favorite question to ask him. He’d asked it time and time again, at Katsuki’s high points and his low points. The low points had confused him initially, though he quickly learned it was just the beta’s way of trying to bring a little levity to the situation.

Although Katsuki had yet to even crack a smile at the familiar words, they did offer some strange comfort that he accepted, nodded at. “Yeah. Little weird, but it feels good. Feels right.”

Kirishima nodded as well. “You did always looked good in that costume.” Katsuki raised an eyebrow at the beta, who laughed, ran a hand along the back of his neck. “Uh, never mind. You want to get changed now or you want to walk around a little?”

The alpha paused to glare, though ultimately he found he didn’t really care to ask what had just happened. “No, I should get out of it for now.”

Kirishima had to help him with the gauntlets, as they were technically over his doctor’s weight limit for him. The beta had allowed him to try them on with the stipulation that he wouldn’t swing them around too much. Even if he’d had every intention of doing just that, feeling the weight of them pulling at his arms and the slight stretching, barely aching feeling in his joints had quickly dissuaded that idea. As nice as it had been to be back in his element, it felt just a little better when Kirishima slipped the gauntlets off.

“I’ll be right back,” Katsuki grumbled, pulling the mask off his face. The beta made a distracted noise as he worked to check all the safety mechanics on the gauntlets. Sure, they’d just filled them with water for the test, but they could still potentially be dangerous, so he was being extra careful, as Katsuki had warned him to be. The alpha watched him, wondered if maybe he should try to help, but decided the risks of Kirishima blowing up the apartment were low, so he went into his bedroom to change.

It took him quite a bit longer than he liked to get everything off and to put fresh clothes on, especially when it came to unbuckling and pulling off his boots and pants, but eventually, he reemerged from the bedroom to find that Kirishima had set the gauntlets back in their case, which was resting against the nearby wall. Katsuki was expressly forbidden to pick the case up, so he growled at it and walked on.

“Kirishima?” He called, a little surprised when a head full of red hair popped up from the couch.

“Oh, here,” the beta rubbed the back of his neck again. “Everything okay?”

Katsuki watched him, noticed him squirming, growled. “Should be asking you that. What’s up with you?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about how much better you’re doing. How much you can do on your own now.” He grinned. “Guess you won’t be needing me hanging around for much longer.”

The alpha considered him carefully, turning each word over, looking for what the beta actually wanted to say, though he didn’t think he could find that in the words he’d said. So he took the seat next to him, huffed out. “No. You should go back to your pack soon. I’m sure they miss you.”

“Aww, they’re fine! They have Iida to keep them in line.”

Katsuki blinked. “Seriously? Iida’s your pack alpha?”

“Sure is!”

He snorted. “Can’t believe you guys actually wanted him as pack alpha.”

The beta made a humming noise, gave him a bit of a smirk, “What? Think you’d rather be in charge?”

“Hell no!” Katsuki snapped, turned away. “I wouldn’t want to be part of that mess. And I definitely wouldn’t want to run it! Sounds like a nightmare.”

“Yeah, it kind of is. But that’s why Iida’s so good as our pack alpha. We don’t need someone to protect us. Just to keep us in line, and he’s always done that well. Or, at least, he knows what works most of the time and he’s willing to try that,” Kirishima laughed.

“And what about you?” Kirishima blinked at Katsuki, clearly not understanding the question, so he elaborated, “Aren’t you head beta? What’s your job like?”

“Oh, nothing much. Main thing I do is invite new members to join. Iida and the rest of the pack have to approve but, you know,” he shrugged, looking at anything but Katsuki.

Katsuki stared at him briefly, then growled. “I seriously doubt it’s that simple.”

“Feels like it.” Kirishima went unusually quiet after that, still staring at anything but Katsuki. The alpha watched him, but he seemed in a daze, so he reached for the television remote.

When he did, a hand pressed over his, stopped him.

“You know,” Kirishima sounded uncertain, which was enough unlike him that Katsuki faced him. The beta stared down at their hands, looking maybe a little sad, “I think you should join up.”

“No way in hell,” Katsuki took his hand away, leaned back. “I already told you. I’m not a pack person. I don’t want to be around all those losers all the time.”

“I think it would be good for you. You wouldn’t be alone.” Katsuki set his teeth, glared into the corner of the room. “Katsuki?”

“What?” He snapped toward the beta, surprised to find their faces were very close together.

Kirishima no longer looked sad. He was staring intently at his face, eyebrows drawn down, a little frown tilting his lips down. So close, Katsuki could smell the open door, could practically feel himself salivating at the fresh, cool scent of the beta. He wanted to say something, but he was a little lost for words.

Then, Kirishima nodded, once, just a little jerk of his head, as if making up his mind, and leaned closer and closer, until their lips pressed together.

There came a rush through Katsuki. A wave of emotion from a long-still pool. His hands flinched, to bring the beta closer or push him away, he didn’t really know. Warmth was flooding all his extremities, but he wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of contentment or the heat of anger. He didn’t think it was anger. But he didn’t think it was want either.

He did, however, notice the twinge in his jaw, the instinct to open wide and bite into the beta, to claim him as his own. What did that mean? Was he attracted to Kirishima? Was it just instinct?

All at once, Kirishima leaned away, leaving Katsuki dumbstruck and alone. Immediately, he cursed himself for what he’d done. He’d been so busy trying to parse through his own emotions that he hadn’t really let himself enjoy the moment, to let it all wash over him.

The beta sat back, looked a little sheepish, though he kept Katsuki’s gaze. Neither of them said anything, Katsuki still wrestling with his own warring thoughts, Kirishima seemingly examining him closely.

Then, the beta smiled. Soft and kind. But there was also hurt buried deep under layers of selflessness. “Sorry. Seems like you weren’t all that into it.”

Katsuki brushed a hand over his mouth. It was the first time anyone had kissed him in almost two years. It was the first time anyone but Deku had kissed him ever. And honestly, he wasn’t really sure what to make of that.

He lowered his hand, shook his head. “Sorry. It’s not you.”

“I know,” Kirishima leaned back, seemed suddenly like his old self, even if Katsuki could sense a bit of hesitation in his movements. “I can tell. It’s that mysterious omega of yours, right?”

Any other time, Katsuki might have snapped his jaws at the beta, told him to mind his own business. In that moment, he dragged his thumb under his lips, scratched it along his jawline. “Yeah.”

Kirishima nodded. “Sorry things didn’t work out. And I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It’s fine. I should be over it by now.”

Kirishima made a humming noise, shrugged. “Sometimes it takes a little while to work through things.” He put his hands behind his head, leaned back to stare up at the ceiling. Pondered it thoughtfully. “I hope you know this doesn’t change anything. I still want to be your friend. I still want to support you.” He shifted, glanced to catch Katsuki’s eye but the alpha was distracted, only noticing the movement out of the corner of his eye. “I still want you to join the pack. I really think it would be to your benefit.”

Katsuki flicked his finger along his cheek, stood, gestured Kirishima to follow him. “I’m not joining your pack, Shitty Hair. C’mon. I’ll make us some lunch or something.”

Kirishima smiled, stood. Followed him. Slipped easily back into whatever they were, whatever they weren’t. Whatever it may be, Katsuki was grateful to have the beta there. He just didn’t really know how to say that. So he cooked a rather extravagant lunch that had Kirishima salivating and had him commenting again that this would be a feast even for his pack.

Katsuki just growled at him and continued on with their day.

- - -

Patrol was boring and typical, but Katsuki enjoyed it. It was quiet. People seemed in awe of him but also kept a wide breadth. It was a nice, cool day. There wasn’t really anything to complain about.

Until, that is, Katsuki realized his radio was set to the common channel, and he heard several familiar voices suddenly ring out through his headpiece.

“Make you sure cover all areas! We need to make our presence known to both the citizens and the criminals!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, we going to do anything for dinner tonight? Like, maybe not let Mina cook?”

“Aw, c’mon man! Her cooking’s not that bad!”

“She could burn water! Like literal water!”

Katsuki snapped his teeth, pressed the button on his wrist to come over the radio, “Oi! Will you extras shut the hell up! You’re on the common channel.”

“Ah! Bakugo!” Kirishima sounded excited and surprised, though Katsuki supposed he hadn’t told the beta he’d be on patrol today. “Good afternoon! Happy to be patrolling with you!”

“I’m not. So just shut up already and get back to work.” He flipped to another channel, one the police used every now and then. It wasn’t encrypted like some of their other channels, so only the major alerts were ever broadcast there or if the city was particularly busy they’d use it to keep different cases running separately. Katsuki often just put that channel on, knowing if he heard something on it, it was a serious incident. His agency also knew he used that channel often, so every now and then he’d get orders to change his patrol patterns. But honestly, he was just happy he didn’t have to listen to those fools going off about dinner.

Patrol was quiet thereafter. He did spot an obnoxiously bright red hero across the street once, but when he saw Kirishima was accompanied by someone from his pack, Katsuki didn’t call out, slinking down a nearby alleyway instead.

Down that alleyway, he checked for any unusual activities, anyone doing anything they shouldn’t be, any signs of villains up to no good. This part of town was relatively quiet, his agency having stuck him here since his injury. They still didn’t quite trust him to go back into the rougher parts of town, especially with speculations on why he had disappeared for so long running rampant through the rumor mill. Criminals could sniff out weaknesses and they’d have a field day testing his limits if allowed. Even if Katsuki wanted to confront those limits as he had so many times before, he understood that it was unwise of him to push himself, even if it had been months since the accident. So he hadn’t put up much of a fuss. But he was starting to get that itch back.

It was that itch, and his need to get away from any sort of confrontation with any of his former classmates, that drove him down that alley. He hadn’t expected anything. He hadn’t even expected something noteworthy to happen. It wasn’t like that day with the girl and the tornado and the moment he’d realized there was an easy way out. He didn’t sense anything unusual about the moment at all.

So when he turned a corner and found an elderly woman hunched over herself standing in that alley, he was cautious, but not suspicious, of her intent.

“Hey,” he growled, the woman rising up slightly, “you lost or something?”

The woman was very still, but only for a moment, before she turned over her shoulder to watch him approach. The closer he got, the more a smile stretched along her face.

It was just strange enough that it put Katsuki on edge, had him prepared for when her hand swung toward him. He caught her wrist, held it to the side.

“Hey! What’re you—” he stopped as something hot sunk into his leg, just below his groin. Indignation aside, he knew exactly what had happened, could feel blood spurting out of his body, could feel it dripping down his leg as the woman pulled her knife back with a gleeful giggle.

“Die, monster, die,” she hissed, still with that gleeful smile on her lips, and struck out again, her knife aimed for his other leg.

Katsuki hissed, let off an explosion between them, though the woman seemed unfazed, her other hand slipping out of his grip and yanking something through the air. Before he knew what was going on, he felt something thin and sharp pulled tight into his throat, cutting off his air. Katsuki thrashed, another explosion blowing through the alley as he stumbled and fell, clawing at the string around his neck, somehow already tied in a hangman’s knot. It took him several moments of struggling before he finally found the knot, burning through it with a few sparks from his palm, taking in a huge breath while turning to look for the woman. She was gone. All that was left was the walls, sprayed in his blood.

And he was still bleeding. He knew his artery had been severed. He only had minutes to live unless he stopped the bleeding.

He fumbled with his belt, managing to pull it off and wrap it around his leg before pressing his radio. “Hero down! I need an ambulance!”

Static responded. His head was going woozy. It took him several minutes to remember he’d switched channels, another minute to remember how to change channels.

Those idiots were still chatting on the other channel when he switched over. “Hey!” He screamed over their voices. “Hero down! I’m—” his head spun and he glanced down, seeing nothing but red pooling underneath him. “I… need an ambulance.”

“Bakugo? Bakugo, where are you?!” Kirishima quickly came over the radio, but his voice was overruled by another, a voice he recognized, but couldn’t put a name to.

“Kaminari, contact his agency, get us his patrol route. Kirishima, keep talking to him, get as much information as you. Any other heroes or law enforcement in the area, we are looking for a blond-haired hero, black costume, orange and green markings, named Ground Zero. Elevate to highest priority, situation is critical. He wouldn’t call in otherwise. I’ll look on foot.” Out in the distance, Katsuki swore he heard an engine revving up. He knew there was no way anyone was going to find him in that little alley.

But he couldn’t… remember the street he’d walked off of.

“Hey, Kats! Kats, talk to me! Where are you?”

“Alley—” he shuddered, felt very cold. It was getting hard to keep the pressure on his leg. Even if it didn’t really hurt that much, his fingers were starting to shake. The world was starting to spin.

“An alley? Are you in an alley? Where? Which one?”

He tried to say something, anything, but all that came out was a noise of despair, as the realization that he was going to die on that street crossed his mind.

His body gave way and he laid back, tourniquet abandoned, staring up into the sky.

Karma was a cruel bitch. Why was he lying in this alleyway, dying? What a terrible way to die. With even less than a whimper, getting murdered by some crazy old lady with a knife and a bit of wire. How the hell had she even done this? Why?

Well, he supposed he’d never know.

Fate was cruel too.

He’d just figured out that he really did want to live.

“Kats! Katsuki! Hey! You gotta talk to me! Where are you?!”

Katsuki listened, as Kirishima’s voice became the only thing in the world he really could recognize. Everything else seemed to slide away, as if dropping out of reality. The buildings, the street, the blood running down his leg. Even his own body seemed to start dissolving at the edges.

I don’t want to die. He could have laughed, but found himself choking instead. When I don’t want to die, that’s when this happens? Why? Why now? Why not when I would have been okay with it?

Maybe he deserved it. Maybe this was punishment.

Yes.

That’s what it had to be.

Punishment for all he’d done.

Well, he supposed he couldn’t argue with that. So he closed his eyes, felt himself fading from the world, fading from reality. Fading completely.

He was, somehow, aware of a hand on his arm. A voice in his ear. A tight, sharp pain at his leg. These were the last few threads of the world he remembered.

Figures that the last things he’d feel of this world were things he couldn’t quite comprehend, things he wasn’t really sure he wanted to feel at all.

- - -

Maybe it should have been a surprise when he woke up.

Somehow, it wasn’t.

He opened his eyes, still feeling dizzy. The room around him was very white. The air he was breathing tasted sterile. The tube under his nose the culprit. With it, it was hard to smell Kirishima, though he somehow knew the beta was in the room.

When he looked, he found the hero in the chair next to him, head in his hands.

The beta didn’t move, not for several minutes, so Katsuki said, “Oi.” His voice cracked and groaned and croaked, but Kirishima still leaped up as if shocked.

His eyes were red, a line of salt down both cheeks. When he saw Katsuki, anger overcame his face. “What the hell, Katsuki? What the hell?”

Katsuki blinked, surprised at the outburst. He didn’t have the energy to match Kirishima’s, though he did manage a growl. “What? This is the welcome back I get?”

“I thought you were over this,” the beta actually snapped his teeth, shook his head. “I thought you cared now! At least enough not to go and let yourself get killed!”

Fury rose like waves on the beach in Katsuki’s chest. No matter how much he wanted to rise up and throttle the beta for suggesting such a thing, all he could manage was a short snarl of his own. “I didn’t. I was ambushed, Shitty Hair. You really think I want to die?”

Kirishima gasped for breath, once, twice. Put his face back in his hands. “You… you died… twice, Katsuki. Your heart stopped. Twice.”

The news rocked through him, made his mind spin with denials, even knowing Kirishima wouldn’t lie to him, not like this. Slowly, he took stock of himself. Two wiggling toes, two aching knees, a very sore right leg and a very swollen and painful left, a chest full of organs, two lungs still pulling in air, two shoulders that connected to two arms and two hands with all ten fingers curling at his command. A heart that he felt beating harshly in his chest.

He closed his eyes, sighed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Why were you alone, Katsuki? It was stupid to go out alone!”

“It’s what I’ve always done at the agency. Most of us patrol alone in the quieter neighborhoods.”

Kirishima snarled viciously, snapped his jaws. He sounded a lot like an alpha in that moment. So much so that Katsuki managed a short laugh. “This isn’t funny! I can’t keep watching you get hurt like this! I can’t watch you kill yourself!”

It was easily the most emotional Katsuki had ever seen the beta. Often times, he got fired up, passionate, loud in what he believed. He’d always been like that, way back from U.A., and that hadn’t changed over the years. But this, this was different. This was raw and painful. A wound ripped open again and again, a wound that refused to scab over, a wound that refused to stop bleeding.

Confronted by such raw emotion from the one person he’d never really seen it from, Katsuki didn’t know what to do. Or what to say.

He just laid there, contemplating his death, what he would have missed.

Thought about green eyes shimmering in sunlight, a musical laugh, summer nights under the stars.

Remembered he’d burned that all away.

“I can’t keep letting you do this,” Kirishima repeated, taking his hand. “Please. Join the pack. Let us support you. Let us help you, Katsuki. Please. Or just let me help you. But please. Please. I can’t watch you do this anymore. Not like this.” He shook his head, couldn’t seem to meet Katsuki’s gaze. “Don’t you want to be the number one hero? Don’t you want to be better than All Might was? You can’t do that if you die now! So please, live, Katsuki! Please let us help you!”

Again, the words to say escaped Katsuki. He didn’t know how to tell the beta that he did want to live, that he did intend to be the number one hero, that he did intend to be better than All Might. He didn’t know how to tell him he just no longer knew how he was going to achieve those goals.

Kirishima was still grasping his hand, bent over it as if in prayer. Katsuki pulled that hand back, rapped his knuckles on the beta’s forehead. When Kirishima blinked at him in confusion, no longer quite on the verge of tears, Katsuki laid back, stared up at the ceiling.

“All right, fine. I’ll join your shitty pack.”

The beta was quiet for a long time.

A long time.

Then, he sobbed, once. Sniffled, tried to clean himself up. Katsuki didn’t acknowledge this.

He only nodded when the beta said, “Promise?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

- - -

The packhouse was a lot different from what he’d been expecting, though to be honest, Katsuki hadn’t really known what to expect at all. It was a big, monstrous of a thing with lots of pristine white walls and a stylized roof that was gaudy as hell. The thought of living in such a monster made him feel a bit queasy, though that was probably more the scent than anything else. He was an alpha not part of the pack, yet, so of course the smell would bother him.

He glared up at the house until Kirishima came around from the other side of the car. “You ready?” The beta looked tired. He’d looked tired since that morning when he’d come to pick Katsuki up from the hospital.

Katsuki didn’t really want to push against him when he looked like shit, so he just growled, followed him up to the house.

When the door opened, Kirishima stepped aside to reveal a tiny entryway with a shoe rack stacked nearly to the ceiling, shoes tucked neatly into each cubby. Beyond that, a living room, filled with people. When he looked out over the crowd, he of course recognized everyone there and they, he.

When he and Kirishima entered, everyone fell silent. While Kirishima stepped up into the living room, Katsuki didn’t move from the entrance, the alpha part of him alarmed by the scent and the realization that he was somewhere he most certainly didn’t belong. He wanted to run away. He wanted to stand up and growl and challenge the alphas in the house. All he did was keep his mouth shut, glaring down each of the pack members as they stared awkwardly back at him.

The first to move was Iida. The pack alpha cleared his throat, pushed his glasses up on his face, stepped to meet Katsuki. Iida had always been a bit taller than him, but with Katsuki standing in the cut out of the entryway and Iida on the raised floor, the height difference between them irked at a nerve in his body. Katsuki’s lip twitched toward a snarl, something Iida no doubt noticed.

The truth, however, was not the height difference itself. It was, admittedly, the power dynamic. If Katsuki joined, Iida was going to be ranked above him. He’d either have to get over that or fight Iida for that position, and he had a feeling if he won the pack alpha spot, not many in the pack would actually follow him. Not that he wanted that. He just felt a twinge of annoyance at the thought of being under another alpha. Another fact was that he’d done a little research and found out it was customary for the pack alpha to heavily scent a new member, especially other alphas, as a way to ingratiate them into the pack. There was no way in hell Katsuki was going to let Iida just scent him. If that was a requirement to join, then he was going to walk right back through that door and he was very much prepared to do just that. Katsuki waited, thinking on all of this, as Iida came to stand before him.

He looked Katsuki up and down once. “You’re looking a lot better, Bakugo. How are you feeling?”

“Not dead,” he growled.

Iida nodded. “And for that, we’re all glad.” He held out his hand. “If you’ll have it, then I’d like to welcome you into our pack.”

The hand outstretched was so many things. A welcome, a consideration, an agreement. If he took Iida’s hand, he’d be entering into his pack, he’d be accepting all the bullshit that would come with it.

But he’d also he accepting all the help in that hand. That hand was outstretched as an offer for safety and peace and support. And maybe Katsuki wasn’t all too happy with the idea of being around these people all the time. But he knew them. He’d lived with them for three whole years. Somehow, even standing there, the odd man out, he felt strangely settled. He knew this moment. Even if he didn’t know the place. He’d always fit in this group. Somehow, they’d molded this place for him around him, even through all his squirming and growling. They knew him. They accepted him. Iida’s hand outstretched, the small smiles on the faces beyond him that Katsuki was just starting to notice, they were all signs of that acceptance.

And maybe it wasn’t going to be perfect. But maybe this was what he needed, at least for now.

He took Iida’s hand, made sure to squeeze it tightly. Iida winced slightly, but didn’t otherwise react.

The pack gave a low rumble and slowly came forward, Uraraka first, then Mina, Kaminari, Sero, the others. They slowly offered him their hands, pulled him up from the entryway.

Welcomed him home.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was woken from the dream, the memory, by someone knocking at his door. A glance at his clock told him it was very late, as did the continued darkness from the hallway when the door opened. Somehow, he’d known who it was, so he didn’t growl as someone came into the room.

“Kacchan?” Kazue called. “Kaaaaaacchan?”

“What?” Katsuki growled, rubbing his eyes.

He felt Kazue clamber up onto his bed. “Mommy said to come get you.” Katsuki paused, staring at the pup as he gazed thoughtfully back. “He said not to tell you that, but Mommy also says not to lie to people.”

“Is he okay?” Katsuki quickly roused himself, trying to shake out the lingering effects of the dream.

“I don’t know,” Kazue raised his hands as Katsuki stood, the alpha immediately picking him up. “He just told me to come get you!”

Katsuki growled lowly, made his way down the hallway. He hurried to Izuku’s room, found it cracked open. He paused, but it was quiet inside, so he knocked before entering.

“Izuku?” He called, pushed the door open. There was a soft glow from the corner of the room, a new nightlight in place, blue and soft, bathing the room in a dim effusion of light. Izuku was in bed, laying on his side, his face hidden from the doorway. Katsuki waited for him to say something, but he didn’t even move. “Hey, Izuku?”

While Katsuki kept his voice low and soft, Kazue immediately shouted, “Mommy! I went and got Kacchan like you told me to!”

Izuku immediately curled up around himself as if cringing, hiding his face in his hands. Katsuki took a few steps inside to place Kazue on the bed, letting the pup rush over to his omega and rub against him comfortingly. The omega made an irritated, exasperated sound beneath his hands.

“You all right?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku sighed, lifted his hands from his face. “Could you just… I don’t know.”

Katsuki waited, but the omega didn’t elaborate. “Do you want me to… leave?”

“No.”

“Stay?”

He made a short noise halfway to a whine.

“Just tell me what you want, Izuku.”

Izuku didn’t say anything. Kazue sighed and gave a dramatic flop onto the omega’s side. “Mommy.”

“Oh, just!” Izuku suddenly rose up, grabbing hold of Kazue and hugging him to his chest. Even in the glow of the nightlight, Katsuki could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

Slowly, he came and sat next to the omega, tentatively running a hand along his back. Izuku didn’t quite melt under the touch, but Katsuki could feel little ringlets of muscles unwinding under his fingers.

The omega rubbed against Kazue, settling the pup quickly, then sighed. “Just… would you mind laying next to me again?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just—” he shivered. Hugged Kazue a little tighter. He wouldn’t look at Katsuki. “After what you said today… I keep thinking I see something in the room.”

Oh. That’s what it was. The omega was scared.

A swelling of protective instinct made Katsuki want to snarl and hiss and track down Yokoyama and destroy him. But the reality was that wasn’t possible. So he settled his nerves with a deep breath, nodded. “Sure, Izuku. I’ll stay with you tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” the omega snapped, to which Katsuki nodded.

“Just until you feel safe.”

Izuku wrinkled his nose at the words, laid down with Kazue still curled up in his arms. Katsuki went and shut the door then curled up behind the omega, just as he had done that first night. This time, he didn’t touch Izuku, opting instead to wrap his arms around his pillow.

“Good night,” he said.

Izuku was very quiet. Then, with a huff, he turned over, thrusting Kazue into the space between them, but pressing closer to the alpha. Kazue chirped happily, nuzzling into Katsuki’s chest while remaining curled in Izuku’s arms. Izuku watched the pup, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Then, he closed his eyes.

“Good night.”

Kazue purred, snuggling deeper into the space between alpha and omega. “Night, night!”

Katsuki stared forward, a bit in a daze, noticed that Kazue was still peering at him, a little quirk to his lips. It took the alpha a moment to realize what he wanted, eventually grumbling out, “Good night.”

Satisfied, Kazue rubbed his cheek against Katsuki and closed his eyes. Izuku didn’t react, pretending to be asleep.

With pup and omega settled, Katsuki glanced over the room. Even with the soft glow of the nightlight, there were still shadows that reached toward the bed, lines that might, at a glance, look like jagged teeth. Knowing Yokoyama was still out there, knowing he’d sought Izuku out after the attack, knowing it was possible he was looking for him right at that moment, made Katsuki want to rage. He understood why, even here, Izuku couldn’t feel safe. His home had been violated as much as he had. All his safe spaces had been torn away. Even if he hadn’t been around for the last five years, Katsuki had once been a safe place for the omega. It made sense that he would seek out even the old safety nets he hadn’t used in years. And Katsuki didn’t honestly mind it. If he could provide some level of comfort to the omega, then he didn’t mind being used. Not if it helped him.

Still, he didn’t like those shadows.

He growled lowly, ran a hand through Kazue’s hair. When he did, his fingers accidentally brushed against Izuku’s hand. He drew quickly away, but Izuku didn’t react, didn’t move away at his touch. Still, he didn’t push the omega any. As long as he was content and able to sleep, it was all that mattered.

So he settled in, closed his eyes. Kept an ear to anything that shouldn’t be there, only heard the soft rustling of his pack around them.

- - -

Katsuki felt something shifting in his arms, felt a hand press against his face.

“Kacchan?” The alpha grumbled at the pup’s voice. “Food? Kacchan! Food!”

Katsuki growled and Izuku shifted, sighed. “Ask nicely, Kazue.”

The pup huffed. “Kacchan, can we please get some food?”

The alpha sighed, shifted, lifted himself up. Immediately, Kazue crawled into his lap, reached up to nestle into his scent gland. Katsuki wrapping his arms around him to prop him up.

“Izuku,” he muttered, earning a hum from the omega, “let me bring you some breakfast.”

Izuku nosed himself farther into the bed, sighed. “I told you, no breakfast in bed.”

“I asked you first.”

A wrinkle came to the omega’s nose, but he didn’t try to rise from the bed. He seemed to mull over the idea, then said, “All right, fine.”

Katsuki nodded, got up from the bed before he could change his mind. “Just rest up.”

“Breakfast?” Kazue asked.

The alpha grumbled. “I’ll show you how to make breakfast.”

“Ah! Yes!” The pup smiled widely. “I want to stir the eggs!”

“All right, pup. You can do that.”

Kazue gave a little chirp.

Opening the door, Katsuki heard a soft rustling downstairs, probably those getting ready to go out on patrol soon. He had a half schedule that day to go on patrol with Kaminari, but he had a couple of hours before he had to leave. Enough time to make sure Izuku was settled from the previous night. And that started with breakfast.

He set Kazue on the ground, nodded toward the stairs. “Kitchen. Watch your step.”

The pup glanced around, as if confused by his surroundings, then raised his arms to the alpha. “Kacchan!”

Remembering what Izuku had said yesterday, Katsuki ignored him, started toward the stairs. “C’mon, pup,” he said when Kazue whined. Behind him, he heard the pup huff angrily and the little stomps of his feet as he followed after the alpha.

They didn’t see anyone on their way into the kitchen, save for Todoroki, who was sitting in the dining room drinking tea and reading a newspaper of all things. He glanced up at Katsuki and Kazue, the pup hurrying to grab onto Katsuki’s leg at the sight of the other alpha, though he didn’t growl or otherwise act aggressively toward him. They moved quickly on, neither Todoroki nor Katsuki acknowledging one another.

Once in the kitchen, Katsuki considered what he was going to do. He knew that, at least five years ago, Izuku preferred a simple breakfast and with Kazue helping, a simple breakfast was probably best. He picked Kazue up and set him on the counter, growling, “Don’t touch anything unless I tell you to.”

The pup snorted. “You’re being mean, Kacchan.”

“No. It’s dangerous. You could get hurt.”

“No! I’m strong! And I’m tough! See?” He bore his teeth, showed little pup canines peeking over his other teeth.

Katsuki looked at him, nodded. “I know you’re tough, but even tough people can get hurt.”

Kazue tilted his head slightly as Katsuki set some eggs and rice next to him. “Kacchan, do you get hurt?”

“Yeah, sometimes. I am a hero, after all.”

“Does it hurt being a hero?”

“Sometimes.”

“Then why do you do it?”

Katsuki handed the pup a wooden spoon while he filled a pot with water. He took the moment to think carefully, selecting his words one at a time. “I became a hero, because I wanted to stop villains from doing bad things.”

“But that’s dangerous!”

“Yeah. It can be.”

The pup huffed and put his hands on his hips. “Kacchan, if you can do dangerous things, then I think I can do dangerous things too. Like make breakfast!”

“Those are two very different things, Kazue.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

Kazue pouted mightily. “Kacchan, you make no sense.”

Katsuki shook his head. “Always make your rice first. You hear that, Kaz? Rice first.” The pup tilted his head, but nodded and listened as Katsuki told him what they were going to be making that morning.

It admittedly took more time than usual to get breakfast put together. But it was rewarding to watch Kazue’s eyes widen at the expanding rice or the joy he took in slowly stirring the eggs, even if Katsuki had to go back and whisk them afterward. Soon enough, Kazue was carefully stacking bowls and chopsticks on the tea tray while Katuski nestled a cup of fresh coffee in the tray’s center.

“I want to carry the tray!” Kazue tried to pick it up, but Katsuki pressed it back onto the counter.

“No. You just get the door for me.”

The pup wrinkled his nose, seemed to think over a response, then huffed out. “Okay.”

Before Katsuki could stop him, the pup leaped off the counter, landing lithely on this feet and scurrying for the staircase. The alpha had gone rigid, frozen in a new kind of terror at the sight of Kazue jumping off the counter, his heart stuttering nearly to a halt and his stomach dropping far out of his body. He took several moments to get his heart started back up before yanking the tea tray off the counter with muttered curses and stomping after the pup.

When he reached the staircase, he heard Kazue shouting for Izuku only to be quickly hushed by the omega. A sudden peal of laughter from the pup settled some of Katsuki’s nerves, called him forward as he approached the bedroom. He nudged the door open a little more, saw Izuku with Kazue curled up in his arms, gnawing gently at the pup’s cheeks, Kazue growling and nipping back at him.

Katsuki stood for a moment in the doorway, watching them, somewhat confused. He’d never seen anything like this before, though both pup and omega seemed to have fallen into a familiar pattern, playing as they may have any other day. And for however confused he might be, Katsuki recognized the beauty in the moment, the progress, the steps and leaps taken to reach this point.

So he was quiet as he watched, until Kazue noticed him and popped up with a chirp. Izuku glanced over to him, sat up slowly.

“That smells good.”

“I helped, Mommy!” Kazue tugged at the omega’s arm.

“Oh? Well it smells delicious, firecracker.” Izuku pulled the pup to his body and nuzzled him. Kazue nipped at his cheek and the omega purred happily.

As much as it felt a little intrusive to step into the room, Katsuki did so to offer Izuku the mug of coffee.

The omega’s purring softened to a satisfied hum. “Thank you. It really does smell good.”

“Well, eat up. Keep your strength up,” Katsuki handed him a bowl, which Izuku took, pushing Kazue gently down when he tried to peer at the food. The pup pouted, until the alpha offered him a bowl of his own.

“Floor or table downstairs,” he said.

Kazue wrinkled his nose. “Why does Mommy get to eat in bed and I can’t?”

“Because he’s the omega.”

“But why?”

“I told you,” Katsuki grumbled, “Izuku is a grown up and he’s the omega. Not even I get to eat in bed.” He caught a bit of a smug look from Izuku before he covered it up by taking a drink from his coffee. The pup still seemed unsatisfied by the answer, but he didn’t argue as Katsuki shifted the tray in his hands. “C’mon. Let’s go downstairs and eat at the table together.”

The pup looked skeptically up at Katsuki, glanced once at Izuku, then hurried to push the door open for Katsuki a little more. Before leaving, the alpha glanced over his shoulder, saw Izuku watching him from over his mug. He couldn’t quite tell what was going through the omega’s mind, so he said nothing, followed Kazue as the pup stomped along the hallway.

Downstairs, he found only one chair at the table taken, Iida slumped over a half-eaten breakfast, sleeping. Kazue had snuck close to the pack alpha, tiptoeing to keep from waking him. Katsuki watched, until there came a mischievous grin to the pup’s lips and he reached for Iida.

Then, he barked, “Oi!”

Iida jolted awake and when he did, Kazue screeched in panic, rushing to hide behind Katsuki’s legs. The alpha snorted shortly, setting the tray on the table as the pack alpha blinked, opening his mouth to say something. Both alphas paused as something thumped loudly upstairs, followed quickly by the noise of a door slamming open. Everyone turned to the staircase just as Izuku burst into the room, grabbing the banister to stop himself from tumbling down the stairs. His pupils were blown so wide, Katsuki swore there was no green left in them, the omega’s grip white-knuckled on the banister. A wave of distress rushed down the stairs, rolling over Katsuki, every fiber of his being reacting to the omega’s panic.

Protect omega! Comfort omega!

His hands flinched but he was frozen, not really sure what to do as Izuku’s eyes darted desperately around the room.

“Kazue!?” It was both a question and a cry of panic.

The pup chirped as he peeked out from behind Katsuki, Izuku immediately calming. He let out a sigh, slumping slightly as the pup ran to climb the stairs and reach his omega. Izuku scooped him into his arms, rubbing against him, purring maybe more to calm himself than the pup.

As the omega settled, Katsuki found his joints were able to move again and he let out a breath, glancing toward Iida. The pack alpha had gone rigid in his seat, now wide awake. While he seemed to have full control over his body, Katsuki found himself a little stiff in places still.

It was Iida who rose and spoke first, “Apologies, Midoriya. I’m afraid I may have startled your pup. That wasn’t my intention.”

Izuku shifted slightly, pulled Kazue closer to his body. “I-it’s fine. I just heard him and… I don’t know. I guess I just….” He bit his lip, didn’t seem to know how to continue.

Iida nodded understandingly. “It’s all right. There’s no need for you to explain. Just know that he’s safe and unhurt. Everything’s okay.”

“R-r… right.” Izuku shifted Kazue in his arms again, chewed at his lip. “I, uh, think I’ll join you for breakfast after all.”

“Whatever you want to do,” Katsuki managed to growl. He shifted uncomfortably as Izuku nodded, disappeared back down the hallway, taking Kazue with him, the pup very quiet.

Once the omega had left, Katsuki slumped into his seat, muttering intelligibly as Iida righted his glasses and for the first time noticed his half-eaten breakfast. He began eating while Katsuki growled some more, eventually drowning it out with a large swig of coffee. Izuku reemerged carrying his bowl and mug, Kazue chatting happily with the omega, already having forgotten what had just occurred. He raced back to his seat, where Katsuki had deposited his breakfast, the pup grabbing greedily for his chopsticks to begin eating. Izuku cast a wary glance to Iida but eventually took his seat on the other side of Kazue. He flicked his chopsticks through his food, as if searching for something. Katsuki watched him for several long moment, until the omega sighed and turned his glare to him, indicating that he had, in fact, noticed the alpha’s staring. Then, Katsuki cleared his throat and turned back to his food.

After a moment’s pause, Iida readjusted his glasses, the movement catching both Izuku’s and Kazue’s attention. “How are you feeling today, Midoriya?”

Izuku shrugged. “Taking it one day at a time.”

Iida nodded. “We’ll take that. As long as you’re making it through.” He glanced at his breakfast, pushed his plate back. “Just so you are aware, we’re expecting visitors next week.”

While Izuku tilted his head curiously, Katsuki let out a low, dangerous growl. “We agreed no visitors, not even members of the agency. Eyebags was supposed to be the only exception.”

“This is something Yaoyorozu had planned for a long time, but our agreement is also the reason I’m bringing this up now. I wanted to know if it was something you would have concerns with, Midoriya.”

Izuku shrugged. “There’s really only a couple people I wouldn’t want anywhere near me, and I highly doubt you would allow them anywhere near the packhouse.”

The pack alpha smiled, relaxed somewhat. “I believe you. And I’m glad you recognize we wouldn’t let anyone we don’t trust near the packhouse. We value the safety of everyone in this house.”

The omega shrugged, didn’t seem at all impressed. “Well that’s less about your values and more that I recognize your instinctual need to establish and keep territorial lines.” Iida blinked in surprise, but Izuku didn’t seem to notice. “May I ask who is coming over?”

“I’d like to know that as well,” Katsuki hissed, trying to hold back his frustration.

Iida cleared his throat, seemed to try to reorient himself. “Togata and Amajiki were going to drop off their pups for a play date with Fumiko and Takahiro. It might be good for Kazue as well to play with them. Their pups are a little closer in age to him than our pack pups.”

Kazue had stopped eating to peer up at Iida with wide eyes. “Umm, did you say Togata? And Ama-Amaji-ki?”

Iida nodded, bringing his voice down when addressing the pup, “Yes, of course! Their pups are good friends with Fumiko and Takahiro.”

“But—” the pup looked up at Izuku, who had a carefully guarded expression, not quite concealing a little spark in his eyes. “But— that’s Lemillion and Suneater, right?”

“That’s right.”

Kazue let out a huge, dramatic gasp, spinning on Izuku to tug at his arm. “Mommy! I want to meet Lemillion and Suneater! They’re so cool!”

A smile curled along Izuku’s lips at the pup’s enthusiasm and he even chuckled. “All right, all right. But you have to promise to behave.”

“Mommy.”

“Yes?”

“Mommy!”

Izuku turned to Iida as Kazue continued to tug at his arm. “That would be fine. As long as they won’t mind Kazue being a bit of a fan.”

“I’m sure they will be flattered.”

Kazue let out a shrill noise, cut off abruptly as Izuku made a quick, short noise somewhat like a growl. The pup turned to Katsuki, smiling widely, though he paused when he saw the alpha. “Kacchan! Aren’t you excited to meet Lemillion and Suneater?”

Katsuki just barely was able to turn his silent snarl into a forced not-quite grin. “So. Excited.” The omega’s lips twitched toward a smile as Kazue kicked his legs out happily. “Eat your breakfast, Kaz.”

Kazue nodded. “You too, Mommy!”

The omega took a bite with the pup, purring when Kazue hummed happily. His eyes did flick up to Katsuki, catching that the alpha’s smile had faded back to a snarl. “Something wrong, Katsuki?”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Nope.” He forced himself to jam food into his mouth.

There was a moment of quiet as the three ate their breakfast, Iida very obviously watching them carefully. Eventually, he stood. “I have some things to take care of. Please excuse me.”

Katsuki glared after the pack alpha as he took up his plate and left. He kept his glare anywhere but on Kazue and Izuku, even as he felt the omega shift toward him.

“So,” eventually, Izuku braved the silence, “what plans do you have today?”

“Patrol later with Dunce Head.” He caught a confused look from both Izuku and Kazue, so he clarified, “Kaminari.”

“Is Kaminari a dunce head?” Kazue asked, Izuku quickly shaking his head.

“No. Katsuki is just being silly again.”

“What’s a dunce head?” The pup pressed.

“A lovely person.” Izuku said without hesitation.

“Oh,” Kazue took a huge bite of rice. “Kaminari is nice.” Izuku handed him a napkin, which the pup dutifully used to wipe his mouth.

Katsuki watched pup and omega silently, enjoyed the natural rhythm they so easily fell into. It was another small piece of normalcy, something falling back into place. And, it was a moment he again had no place in. So, he went to stand, paused when the omega immediately turned to him.

“Are you leaving?”

Katsuki lifted his plate. “Just cleaning up.”

The omega nodded, handed him his mug. “Top me off?”

There was another question beneath the obvious request. Come back and sit with me?

He nodded, “Sure.”

By the time he went into the kitchen, refilled Izuku’s coffee, and returned to the dining room, Kazue was gone, his bowl sitting empty on the table. Izuku was shifting around a couple grains of rice, though he paused to gratefully take the mug from Katsuki.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Katsuki took Kazue’s seat right next to the omega. “Kazue?”

“Sent him to go play with Fumiko.”

The alpha nodded. “They’re still getting along?”

Izuku trailed his thumb along the rim of the mug. “Yeah. She’s tough enough to keep him in line.”

“She’s tough enough to keep anyone in line.”

“Including you?” There was a smirk in Izuku’s voice.

Katsuki snorted. “She certainly ties.” Izuku chuckled, the noise settling Katsuki in his seat. He leaned back slightly. “There something you needed from me?”

“Mmm, not really.” Izuku shrugged. “Just wanted to hang out.”

Katsuki paused halfway through drinking his coffee to examine the omega, however Izuku kept his gaze on the far wall, lost in his own coffee. He couldn’t quite tell what was behind Izuku’s words, nor did he really know how to respond to them.

So he finished taking a huge gulp of his coffee, set it down on the table. “So, uh, I heard you were working at a support agency?”

A sharp look overtook the omega, just barely not a glare. “I was.”

“When are you going to go back? We’d support you with whatever you’d need—”

“I’m not.”

Katsuki paused. “What?”

“I’m not going back to work there.”

Again, he waited, but Izuku wouldn’t even look at him. “Why?”

The omega purposefully drunk from his mug, maybe hoping Katsuki would move on. When he didn’t, Izuku sighed. “They fired me.”

A spike of anger had Katsuki’s lip twitching. “What?”

Izuku finally chanced a glance at him, clearly noticed his anger. “Well, there’s new management from when I was hired and they were never a huge fan of mine, so when I didn’t show up to work for three days without any communication, they went and fired me.”

It took a long, deep breath for Katsuki to not immediately snarl loudly. “You should be able to ask for your job back. Your circumstances were extreme.”

Izuku shook his head. “I tried. They told me I’d have to renegotiation the position and I wouldn’t be able to meet the new requirements with Kazue and with everything that’s happening right now. So, I won’t be going back to work for them.” He let the statement linger between them, Katsuki unable to coherently think of a response. Izuku set his mug down, smiled, sad. “It’s fine. I don’t know how I would do trying to just go back to work and to school. I probably need a little break anyway.”

“That’s still bullshit what they did to you.” There was no way Katsuki was just going to let Izuku shrug this off, even as the omega tried very hard to.

However, he wasn’t quite prepared for when the omega gestured uselessly into the air and said, “Yeah, it is, I don’t disagree. But it is what it is and I don’t have the patience or strength to worry over that on top of everything else.”

It was hard to argue with that. Hard to push Izuku to do more when he made it so clear he simply couldn’t. That there was so much weighing on him, that he’d been forced to shuck the weight he couldn’t bare anymore, seemingly without much of a thought. Of course, it made sense that he’d be used to doing such things. His life had been full of tough decisions for the past five years, Katsuki assumed. Taking care of himself and Kazue couldn’t have been easy. He couldn’t imagine what he’d had to give up for the sake of his pup. This was just another part of that.

Still, that didn’t mean he had to accept it.

“What company was it?”

For the first time, Izuku met his gaze. “Why?”

“Just tell me.”

The omega paused another moment, then said, “Sigma.”

Katsuki immediately pulled out his phone, opened his messages to Iida.

We don’t associate with Sigma support company anymore. He glared at the screen, waited for Iida’s eventual response, which was just several question marks. They screwed over Izuku. We don’t associate with them anymore.

Before receiving another response from the pack alpha, he sent the same message to the group chat, tucking his phone away as it immediately started vibrating with new messages. Izuku was staring at him with an eyebrow raised, but he didn’t ask anything, just went back to his coffee.

“Well, when you’re ready, we can help you look for a new job. If you wanted and if you’re comfortable, we could probably find something for you to do at the agency.”

At this, Izuku snorted. “I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity. It’s a recognition of your ability and your need. Plus, like Iida and Uraraka said, you’re practically part of the pack now. We’ll do whatever we can to help you out.” Although he didn’t seem to like that answer, Izuku said nothing, staring into his mug silently.

Enough time went on that Katsuki, too, turned to his coffee, saw a dim reflection of himself. He looked… put off. Not quite settled. He growled into the liquid, took a sip to break the mirror.

As he did, he saw Izuku glance at him, gestured toward him. “What’s that on your neck?”

Katsuki immediately pressed a hand to his neck, couldn’t feel what he knew was, in fact, a small discolored mark that looked suspiciously like a long-suffering burn. He set his mug down. “Old injury. Had a garrot caught around my neck. Got a little too enthusiastic about burning it off.”

“I don’t remember seeing that on the news.”

Katsuki gave him a raised eyebrow look. “You paid attention to me on the news?”

Ignoring his comment, Izuku continued, “When did that happen? And who got close enough to get a garrote around your neck?”

“It happened about three years ago,” he lowered his hand. “Got ambushed in an alleyway. This old lady stabbed me, wrapped this wire around my neck. Almost killed me.” He saw a flicker of shock, of sorrow cross Izuku’s expression, though he didn’t give any attention to it. “We found out later that she suffered from some sort of mental disorder made worse by the effects of her Quirk. Causes her to have a break from reality, makes her believe she’s a hunter out there killing monsters. When she found out what she’d done, she was horrified. But at least it was me and not some innocent person on the street. We kept it out of the news as much as possible. It wasn’t too long after I broke my back. I’m sure you heard about that.”

“Yeah I did,” Izuku lowered his head, shifted nervously. “I… know it’s way too late, but when I heard about that, I really was worried. About you, I mean. And I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m… glad you’re okay.”

Katsuki turned, caught Izuku’s eyes. They looked at each other. Perhaps not like how they’d used to. But it was the first time they simply just looked at each other. Pausing in the moment, in the words that had been exchanged between them, both that day and the days previously. It was a strange moment. Not one Katsuki really knew how to react to.

He could only let that moment hang for so long before he felt his skin crawling and he looked away with a snort. “Well, thanks. It was… an interesting time, to say the least.” He checked his watch. “I should get a workout in before my shift. Do you need anything from me?”

“No, no. I’m okay.” Izuku turned over his shoulder, nostrils twitching. “I should check on Kazue.”

“He’s fine. Don’t worry about him so much.” The omega hummed noncommittally, handed over his mug when Katsuki held out his hand. “I’ll be back late tonight, so you might not see me before you go to bed. But if you need something, just call me. My line is set up to go straight to my radio when I’m on patrol.”

Izuku lifted his eyebrows. “Nifty.”

“Some weird tech from a pink-haired freak we work with from time to time.”

“Doesn’t sound like someone from Sigma.”

“Nah. She works for a small shop with a couple others. Had some big investors once she graduated from U.A.”

“Ah.”

Another uncomfortable pause.

Katsuki picked up the empty bowls. “Anyway, anything comes up, don’t be afraid to call. It’ll reach me.”

“Uh huh,” a smirk overcame the omega’s face. “You know I don’t have your number anymore?”

Maybe he was being bold. Or arrogant. But Katsuki saw an opportunity and gave his winning smirk in return. “Oh? You asking for it?”

Izuku’s expression immediately fell into an unimpressed frown. He pushed away from the table, stood, and sighed very deliberately in that order, “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

He walked away without glancing once at Katsuki, leaving the alpha standing there holding the dishes. Once the omega had left and it was clear he wasn’t going to come back, Katsuki snarled to him, stomped into the kitchen.

“Idiot! What were you thinking?”

- - -

Over the next few days, Izuku, Kazue, Katsuki, and the rest of the pack fell into a familiar, comforting pattern. Izuku fit neatly amongst the rest of the pack, though he kept a clear line with everyone save for Yaoyorozu and the omegas, whom he cautiously allowed a bit closer than the others. He also took a shining to Todoroki, seemingly comforted by his presence, much to Katsuki’s chagrin. He chalked it up to the alpha’s mate scent with Yaoyorozu, even if it was very clear that Izuku actually enjoyed Todoroki’s laid back, no fuss approach to life.

In turn, the pack accepted and welcomed Izuku as one of their own, moving around and with him as they would any other member of the pack. It was as if nothing had changed at all. They still maintained an orderly patrol schedule. The betas still caused chaos on a regular basis. Iida had his weekly meltdown about something to do with the pack or the agency. Things moved forward as they always had, with the addition of everyone turning an eye over Izuku, watching to make sure he was doing okay.

Even Katsuki found himself going back to a normal rhythm of life. He found himself frequently making breakfast for himself, Kazue, and Izuku, though sometimes he would find the omega in the kitchen first. They formed a slightly awkward pattern between alpha and omega, both caring for Kazue while dancing carefully around each other. Even if Katsuki knew what he wanted, he couldn’t tell what Izuku wanted, nor did he know whether even the omega knew what he wanted. So their interactions remained polite and awkward. Katsuki also went back on his regular patrols, though they were interspersed with meetings with Tsukauchi and investigations for the case against Yokoyama.

They weren’t getting any closer to finding the monster alpha, but there also hadn’t been any more attacks since Izuku’s. It was good news in one sense. Nobody getting hurt. In another, it did mean the police only had what they had previously collected. Even knowing who they were looking for didn’t seem to help any. Somehow, Yokoyama had gone deep underground. He hadn’t paid Izuku’s apartment another visit and Katuski had gone inside to check to make sure it hadn’t been disturbed, finding it still largely abandoned, though there were some signs that Aoki had been in the apartment to keep it relatively clean and orderly. The investigation was quickly coming to a dead end, though Katuski refused to believe it would. How could it when they knew exactly who they were looking for? They just had to hope the alpha slipped up before he hurt anyone else. They’d catch him. If it was the last thing Katsuki did, he would find this damn alpha and make him pay for what he’d done to Izukue, Kazue, and the other omegas.

Equally, the investigation into the pups quickly dried up. There did come a point where Tsukauchi had to admit it was highly unlikely all the pups were still alive, if any of them. They still didn’t know the rationale behind taking the pups in the first place and with no clues as to where they had gone or for what purpose, they had to assume that they’d met a similar fate to their omegas. Tsukauchi ordered specialized trackers to start looking for buried bodies in some of the remote parts of the city, including a sweep of the garbage dump, looking for any bodies. Thankfully, or maybe dishearteningly, nothing came of these searches. Still, the more time went on, the less hopefully everyone was. As much as Katsuki wanted to find the pups alive, he knew the statistics. He knew it was going to be a miracle to find any of them alive, not to mention all of them. The best they could do for now was to locate Yokoyama, to make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else. Surely the alpha would know more about where the pups had gone and if they were still alive. He remained the crux of their investigation, and the subject of Katsuki’s deep, hateful ire.

But otherwise, things went on. And it was peaceful. Izuku seemed to get a little better every day. Small steps, one at a time.

He never did ask Katsuki to sleep in his bed with him again.

- - -

After a long day’s work, Katsuki found Izuku in the gardens sitting by the firepit. He collapsed into the chair besides Izuku and let out a half-growl, half-sigh, the omega chuckling under his breath. “You look a little worn out.”

“Asshole put me through the ringer on patrol. Wouldn’t just let me fucking grind him into the dust,” Katsuki grumbled.

Kazue made a gasping noise from Izuku’s lap. “Kacchan! You said a bad word again!”

“Yup. Sure did. Just don’t repeat it, okay?”

“But why?”

“Because I’m the alpha and I say so!”

Kazue wrinkled his nose at Katsuki. “You’re not my alpha.”

Katsuki felt his eyebrow twitch, but Izuku brushed a hand along Kazue’s nose. “Actually, he is, firecracker.”

“No. Kacchan just says bad words and makes food all the time. Besides. Alphas are mean anyway.”

Katsuki slumped further into his seat, grumbling between clenched teeth.

Izuku laughed, “Oh, be nice, not all alphs are mean. And Katuski is your alpha. Even if he’s not a great one.” Katuski cut the omega a glare, though Izuku was pointedly focused on Kazue. “Besides, I think him making food for us has been very helpful.”

The pup didn’t look convinced, but before he could protest, Izuku leaned it and nipped at his cheek, Kazue giggling joyfully and biting back at the omega.

Katsuki watched this exchange as he had time and time again, cut a glance to Uraraka. She was sitting across the firepit from them, also watching the two, looking contented by the interaction.

“I never see you do that to Fumiko,” the alpha growled.

Uraraka lifted her shoulder. “It’s, uh, more of a male omega thing from what I understand. Teaching their pups to fight, I guess. Instinctual.”

“And you don’t do that?”

“Listen, Katsuki, I’m not a male omega. I can’t tell you what his instincts are.”

It was a good point. Katsuki had always known Izuku was a male omega, obviously, but he’d never really thought about what differences that would mean for him in terms of instincts. He’d always just assumed they would be the same as a female omega. One glance at the slightly befuddled look on Uraraka’s face at Izuku biting at Kazue’s cheek told him otherwise.

So what else was there that would be different? What else did he not know about how male omegas were different from their female counterparts?

His thoughts jolted apart at a cry of pain, the sudden scent of anguish in the air. Kazue was rubbing his cheek, whimpering slightly, while Izuku pressed both hands to his mouth, shock coloring his face nearly white. In an instant, Katsuki found himself hovering over omega and pup, taking the pup’s hands away to reveal a small cut on his cheek. A teardrop of blood leaked out of the wound and Izuku made a long, painful sound of despair.

“It’s all right,” Katsuki wasn’t really sure who was he speaking to, omega or pup, though both didn’t react to his voice. “Come here, you’re all right.”

He carefully lifted Kazue from Izuku’s lap, watching how the omega reacted. Izuku leaned forward, hands still pressed to his mouth, as Uraraka quickly came to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Kacchan,” Kazue rubbed at the wound, “it hurts.”

Katsuki pulled his hand away. “Don’t touch it. Let me see.” He glared at the wound. “You’re fine. It’s just a little cut. Nothing to worry about.”

The pup sniffled, sad eyes very watery. “Are you— sure?” He hiccupped.

“I’m sure.” Katsuki glanced over to Izuku, saw that the omega was running a finger over his broken tooth, a hollow look in his eyes. “Here. Tell your omega you’re okay.”

He set Kazue on the ground, the pup cautiously approaching Izuku. As the pup reached up for him, Izuku’s expression cleared and he scooped Kazue up into his arms. “I’m sorry, firecracker. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, Mommy. See? Kacchan says it isn’t too bad.”

Izuku stared at the little wound on Kazue’s face, his expression growing distant again. Uraraka rubbed her hand over the other omega’s back, bringing him back with a little shake of his head. He pulled Kazue to his chest and scented him, the pup purring happily, melting into his omega’s arms. Even with his pup happy and relaxed, Izuku still seemed dazed, his tongue flicking at his tooth.

Katsuki watched, shared a look with Uraraka. He checked his watch. It would be sunset soon. About an hour.

Maybe that was too much time. But, he had been thinking about doing this for a while, and it would give Izuku something to think about other than hurting Kazue, other than his broken tooth and how he’d gotten it.

He nudged the omega. “Hey. Grab your jacket. We’re going out.”

Immediately, Izuku seemed to snap back to his senses, narrowing his eyes at the alpha. “Why?”

“Just do it. Promise you’ll like it. Besides, you need a chance to relax a little.”

“I’m not in the mood for any surprises, Katsuki.”

Katsuki snapped his jaws. “It’s not a surprise. Just get your jacket. Cheeks, you can watch Kazue, right?”

“I’m not leaving my pup.” Izuku said immediately, tightening his arms around Kazue.

Katsuki met his challenging gaze, tilted his neck slightly in submission to the omega. “All right. Take your time. But when you’re up to it, get your jacket.”

Izuku glared at him, waited, eventually sighed. “You’re not going to give this up, are you?”

“Nope.”

The omega turned away with a huff, much as Kazue might, rubbed his cheek in the pup’s hair. “Just… give me a few minutes.”

The alpha leaned back, closed his eyes. “Take your time. We have all night.”

He heard Izuku make a low noise in his throat. “You’re the worst sometimes.”

- - -

It took Izuku a couple of hours to settle down, to the point where he looked physically tired and Katuski considered whether it was a good idea to actually follow through on his threat. But Izuku turned to him expectantly, jacket shrugged onto his shoulders, so Katsuki grabbed the car keys. They paused to say good night to Kazue, telling the pup to be good for Uraraka, before stepping out the door.

Outside, Izuku shivered a little, stuck a little closer to Katsuki. Katsuki, for his part, swept the area around the packhouse much as he may have in the past, though his eyes were sharper and his palms prickled threateningly. But there was nothing hiding in the bushes, nothing on the street, nothing to signal that anything out of the ordinary was happening. Still, Katsuki ushered Izuku into the car quickly and for once, the omega didn’t comment on Katsuki’s hovering. Once they were both in the car, Katsuki unwound a little, though Izuku still looked a little nervous.

“Relax. Everything’s fine.”

The omega shifted slightly, dug his hands deep in his pockets. “So what’s all this about?”

“Just something special, I guess.”

“Why?”

Katsuki paused, turned the car over. “You needed the change of pace.”

The omega raised an eyebrow at him. “Bold of you to assume that. And wouldn’t you typically say that stability is a good thing for someone recovering from a traumatic experience? Don’t know if you taking me out in the middle of the night to some unknown location all by yourself would be considered stable.”

“You don’t like going out in the middle of the night or something?”

“Well, I do have a young pup, so no. But it’s more that being with you doesn’t really promise stability.”

“I feel like that’s an attack on my personality.”

Izuku snorted out a laugh. “You’re fairly predictable if nothing else.”

“Oh?”

“Predictably loud and angry.”

Katsuki clicked his teeth. “I’m not angry all the time.”

“Would you rather I said grumpy?”

The alpha growled and Izuku laughed.

They fell into silence afterward, but it wasn’t awkward as their first car trip had been. Izuku turned the radio on to something quiet and soothing, then leaned back in his seat, tilted his head to look out his window. Katsuki focused on the road as much as he could, trying to remember the familiar way back to where they were going.

Halfway through the city, Izuku finally said, “So are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?”

“You’ll see.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Katsuki shrugged. “You’ll figure it out. I’m kind of surprised you haven’t realized it yet.”

Izuku raised an eyebrow, looked out the windshield. “Somewhere we’ve been before?”

“Yes.”

“More than once?”

“Yes.”

“Recently?”

“No.”

The omega put a hand to his chin, glared at the road. He was quiet for several moments, Katsuki feeling the tension in his stomach building as they got closer and closer to their destination. He wasn’t exactly sure how this was going to turn out. He wasn’t even really sure what he was doing. He’d had the thought a couple of days earlier but hadn’t planned anything other beyond just arriving at the location. What would he say? What would Izuku say? What did he want to get out of this? Maybe just seeing the omega happy would be enough.

Maybe, if he was lucky, they’d share a nostalgic moment together. A small piece of their past that wasn’t tainted by the result of the last five years. Maybe. But he’d need a hell of a lot of luck for that to happen.

As it were, realization dawned on Izuku just before they arrived. “Oh.” He didn’t sound too thrilled.

“You figure it out?” Katsuki asked, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach.

“Yeah, but I don’t know why you’d bother.”

“Well, it was your favorite—” he stopped as they turned a corner, and faced a convenience store on flattened ground backed by a tall apartment complex.

Katsuki slumped into his seat, stared at the landscape in mute horror. To his credit, Izuku only chuckled a little. “I’m guessing you haven’t been back here for a while.”

“When did this happen?”

“Dunno. Maybe two or three years ago?”

The alpha made a dissatisfied noise, pulling into a parking spot to glare around at what was left of the hill on which he’d once stargazed with Izuku. The ground had been completely flatted to accommodate the new buildings, only a few sparse patches of green left of the once wildflower filled hilltop. When he peered up through the windshield, he couldn’t see the stars at all. Just towering buildings and a ring of clouds.

Katsuki let out an aggravated huff, clenched the steering wheel. “Fuck.” He chanced a glance at Izuku, found the omega watching him with a smirk, seemingly unaffected by the destruction of his favorite place in the city. Of course, if it had been that long, he was probably used to it by now. Still, he felt a little raw looking at the omega, knowing he no longer had a good place to stargaze in the city. “Sorry, Izuku. I wanted to surprise you.”

Izuku chuckled, leaned back in his seat again. “It’s all right. It was a sweet gesture, anyway. I haven’t had time to stargaze in a while, though you do have a pretty good view from the balcony at the packhouse.”

Katsuki let out a rush of air from his nose, his nostrils flaring. “Fuck.” He repeated.

Izuku shifted in his seat, tried to look up at the stars as well. He gave up after only a few moments. “So. What was your plan once you had me under the stars?”

“Didn’t have one. Just thought it would be a relaxing moment for you.”

“Oh really? You weren’t going to try to seduce me again? Or apologize for what you did?”

“I already told you I was sorry. I made a mistake. But I’ll say it again if you want me to.”

The omega held up his hand. “Don’t. It gets old quickly.” He cut a glance at Katsuki from the corner of his eye. “So no seducing?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

Katsuki rested his chin on the steering wheel. “Well you made it pretty clear on your position when you didn’t ask for my number the other day.”

“I suppose so.”

The alpha paused. “What, you want me to try?”

Izuku snorted. “Nope. But if you were going to, this would be the time to do it.”

“I just want you to be happy, Izuku. Safe and happy. I’ll be fine with that. If that includes me, then great. If it doesn’t,” he shrugged, “I screwed that chance a long time ago. I know that.”

Izuku was quiet for a long time. Long enough that Katsuki noticed the sounds of the city around them, the low murmur of machines, heaters, the car creaking, maybe even a cricket nearby.

Then, “Can I ask you a question?”

Katsuki shrugged, aware that he was sulking. “Sure, whatever.”

“Why did you do it?” The question itself was simple. But there was a more complex question underneath it. Why did you leave me alone?

Katsuki took in a breath through his nose, held it, organized his thoughts, but the words still didn’t seem right as he spoke, “I was… there was… it’s complicated.” He leaned over the steering wheel, stared up at the sky, as useless as it was. Chewed at the inside of his cheek.

Then, he sighed. “The night All Might died, we were told we would have to bear the burden of his symbol. That we would all have to become the symbol he had once been. And I just… couldn’t see how I was going to be able to reach that goal. I was… overwhelmed, I guess. I was…,” he paused, picked at the words. Scared would fit nicely in that spot, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Or at least, not the whole truth.

Instead, he shook his head. “It just got worse as time went on. The closer to graduation we got, the less I knew what the hell I was doing. But I was pretty sure on one thing. I wasn’t going to be able to do anything but work to reach that goal. I convinced myself I couldn’t love you anymore. That I’d never be able to do both. Hell, I didn’t even know how I was going to reach the height that All Might did on its own. I had no idea how to do it with someone to take care of and look after.”

“You saw me as burden.” Izuku finished. His voice was tight and controlled, but it still made Katsuki want to flinch.

He sighed. “Right or wrong, that’s what I felt like.” He shook his head. “I was stupid. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I thought it would be for the better.”

“Was it?”

Katsuki let out a dry laugh. “Not in the slightest.”

The omega let his head rest against his seat, purposefully not looking at Katsuki. The silence between them this time was twinged with a familiar awkwardness. It made Katsuki’s palm itch, so he rubbed them, felt them sparking. “Can I ask you something now?”

For a moment, Izuku didn’t say anything. Then, he took in a breath. “Yup. Go ahead.”

“Why didn’t you ever try to tell me about Kazue?” The omega didn’t say anything, so Katsuki clicked his tongue. “You could have found a way to reach me. Contacted my agency. You had my old number. You had ways to get in touch for something like that. So. Why didn’t you?”

Just as Katsuki had, Izuku paused, seemed to pull himself together. Then, he shut his eyes. “I was afraid. I was young and naïve and scared and you were an up-and-coming hero. Broke into the top ten in your first year. It was scary thinking about trying to face you. You’re the one who told me you never wanted to see me again. I thought that if you found out about Kazue, you’d use your power to just take him from me and kick me out of his life. And I knew I wouldn’t have survived that.”

As much as Katsuki wanted to snap his jaw, he didn’t, didn’t even click his tongue. Just rubbed his palms together, felt the heat gathering between them. “You really think I would do that?”

Izuku shrugged. “I didn’t know. But the thought alone scared me enough that I didn’t want to try. It was less scary doing everything on my own than the thought of what you might do to us.”

Even knowing he wouldn’t have done such a thing, Katsuki could understand why Izuku hadn’t tried to reach out. He’d lived his entire life for Kazue. If something had taken that from him, what would he have had? The thought of Izuku alone, his pup gone, made Katsuki’s stomach twist painfully. He was also afraid, afraid of what the omega may have done, the possibility that, if something had happened to Kazue, that Izuku may have stepped off a building, and the alpha would have never known. He could have lived his life never having known the struggles and end of his pup and the omega if all this hadn’t happened.

He took a breath again. “I want you to know, I would have never, ever wished for this to happen to you. But if it had to happen, then I’m glad I’m the one who found you.”

Izuku snorted. “For a while, I sure wasn’t.” He tilted his head slightly to look at Katsuki, the alpha just able to keep his gaze, to keep from squirming under it. “But, I’m coming around to the idea.” He played with his hands, a sign of his nervousness, the first one Katsuki had been able to pick out. “I… I did miss you. Just so you know.”

Katsuki was quiet. For more than just a heartbeat.

Then, he shifted. “Can… can I kiss you?”

The omega raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely not.”

“What about your hand?”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “If it’ll make you stop asking.”

Katsuki gently took his hand, brought it to his lips to kiss. He let it linger, went back to brush his lips on a different knuckle. When he didn’t sense the omega try to pull away, he lifted his gaze, saw Izuku was watching, framed by the lights from the city, eyes sparkling. There were no stars to shine in them, but somehow, they had become stars of their own.

He brushed his thumb over the omega’s hand, let him go, turned the car over. “Let’s go back to the packhouse.”

Izuku hummed. “We can stargaze on the balcony.”

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

The day of Izuku’s first visit to the hospital since his discharge came quickly, with Katsuki arranging with Iida and the rest of the pack so he could go with the omega to the appointment. Tsu stayed at the packhouse with Kazue while the two were gone, telling the pup she would show him how to take care of the garden. The promise of getting to play in the dirt quickly banished all of Kazue’s hesitations at letting Izuku leave for the hospital without him. The omega, however, was clearly anxious the entire way there. Nothing Katsuki said or did seemed to make a difference, so he just tuned the radio up and reached across every now and then to stroke his arm or squeeze his hand.

Before leaving the packhouse, Katsuki had made sure to wear sunglasses and a beanie to try to disguise himself, keeping everything on while in the waiting room. As they sat waiting for Izuku’s name to be called, the omega kept a fairly snappy rhythm bouncing his knee. He only paused when someone walked past, casting a curious look at Katsuki. Long since used to it, the alpha didn’t even look up from his phone. Izuku, however, shifted.

“People are staring,” he hissed.

“Yeah, well, they would stare more if I took the sunglasses off.”

The omega huffed out, sat back in his seat. “I don’t like it.”

Katsuki sighed, reached to touch his knee, “Sorry.”

Izuku pulled his leg away, hissed out a warning growl. It was a bit like a slap in the face, though Katsuki wasn’t really sure why. His alpha brain growled, bit off on a whine. But he recognized the omega’s reprimand and sat back.

“I know you’re worried, but just try to breathe.”

He could almost hear Izuku’s eyes roll up in his head as the omega sunk a little lower in his seat.

Not long after, a nurse stepped into the room and called, “Midoriya?”

Immediately, Izuku tensed, his shoulders lifting up to his ears. Katsuki stood first, bringing all the attention to himself and away from Izuku, waited for the omega to take in a deep breath and follow him. The nurse smiled pleasantly as they approached, though Izuku clearly stepped closer to Katsuki as if he were afraid of her. When they got closer, Katsuki flared his nostrils, caught a whiff of a muted, almost non-scent. A beta. Good. As long as she wasn’t an alpha. He noticed Izuku do the same, calming a little as the nurse gestured them into the hallway.

They were brought through the sterile white of the hospital corridors and into an exam room where the nurse took all of Izuku’s typical measurements, height, weight, blood pressure, the like. Katsuki sat and took careful note, but nothing stuck out to him particularly. There was nothing obviously wrong. On the surface, the omega seemed healthy. The nurse then asked him about how he was feeling, how his arm was doing, how his neck was healing. The omega answered her questions carefully but honestly. A couple of times, he glanced to Katsuki, perhaps a little uncomfortable, though when the alpha offered to leave, he said it was fine. Still, Katsuki kept a close watch, unsure exactly of what the omega was thinking. He seemed fine, if not a little nervous, though he couldn’t quite tell where there nervousness was coming from.

After her initial examination, the nurse informed him that Matura wanted X-rays done of his arm before seeing him and promptly whisked him away, telling Katsuki to stay in the exam room. Although not particularly happy about being separated from the omega, he did as he was told, slouching grumpily in his seat.

He pulled out his phone, saw multiple messages from the betas, all going back and forth about contracts they’d had to break with Sigma. Though initially confused, when the pack found out how the company had treated Izuku, they’d been all too happy to cancel their orders, even if some of them did incur penalties. That pink-haired freak – Hatsu-something, maybe? – had agreed to take on many of the pack’s request, including one of Katsuki’s. He’d put in for new support bracers for his knees. Over the years, his habit of landing and taking off with explosive force had really done a number on his joints and he was eager not to have more aches and pains than he already did. Katsuki also considered introducing Izuku and the pink-haired support engineer, but was uncertain how the omega would react to such a big personality. Still, if he wanted to become an engineer, he would need to apprentice to someone, and she was a fantastic at what she did. Might be worth his time if he could learn to cope with her antics.

Katsuki was still scrolling through messages when the door opened, though he knew without looking up that Izuku wasn’t back. No scent came into the room, typical of someone wearing scent blockers like most of the hospital staff, indicating it was only the nurse. Still, the alpha glanced up at her as she offered him a phone covered in a familiar blue case.

“Midoriya wanted me to give this to you while he has his X-ray done.”

Katsuki took the phone, pocketed it. “Thanks,” he said flatly.

The nurse smiled pleasantly, going to wash her hands. “So, how long have you two been courting?”

The alpha felt a prickle run up his spine. He tried to focus on his phone, found his concentration suddenly spiraling out of control.

Courting.

Oh gods, what a word. What a thought. He hadn’t even considered that people would think he and Izuku were courting. But of course, that was the natural assumption, seeing as neither of them had mating marks. Well, Izuku technically did, but those were left over claiming marks from Yokoyama and anyone with half a brain could tell from the faded, jagged appearance of the bites that they had not been consensual. Still, people’s assumptions were part of the reason Izuku had kept them covered all this time. Just as Katsuki should have figured that most people would look at them and think they were courting.

He clicked his teeth to keep from growling. “We’re not.”

The nurse paused to look at him in confusion, though she sounded cheery when she spoke, “Oh! Sorry about that.”

“Whatever.”

Katsuki glared at his phone, noticed a message from Kirishima reminding them they had patrol later. He also had a meeting with Tsukauchi and the rest of the team looking for Yokoyama. Right now, their team was fairly small, just him, the inspector, Detective Ito, and two officers. As a favor to Tsukauchi, he had an old associate, Sansa, looking into some things as well, though he wasn’t going to be at the meeting later. They had to try to switch tactics, find a new angle, something to track Yokoyama down. They were running out of time. The longer they took to find the alpha, the more likely it was that he could hurt someone. They couldn’t just let that happen.

He was still thinking over the case when the nurse left, the alpha only giving her a brief glance to notice her leaving. It was bothering him that they still hadn’t found anything from Yokoyama. It was bothering him that the alpha was still haunting Izuku. From the still-healing bite marks on his neck to his broken arm to his nightmares and his increased protectiveness of Kazue, it all led back to Yokoyama. The longer they went without finding him, the more Katsuki felt his alpha instincts beginning to boil over. Every now and then, he found himself having to sit and breathe for just a moment, to remind himself that no matter how much he wanted to destroy this bastard, he was supposed to play under Tsukauchi’s rules. No killing him. But maybe he’d get the chance to rough him up a little before kicking him into a cell and throwing the key away. It would have to be enough, because it was all he was going to get. And as long as he wasn’t allowed to hurt Izuku again, then it didn’t matter. The omega’s safety was all he really cared about. Even if he sometimes daydreamed of making the alpha pay for every little sin committed against Izuku, Kazue, and all the other omegas and pups.

It was only when the door opened and Izuku’s scent trickled into the room that Katsuki dragged his thoughts away. The omega had his jacket slung over his arm, his clothes a little ruffled, clearly from having to change for the X-ray. A grimaced line was plastered on his face, fighting hard not to show any more emotion. There were fresh bandages on his neck. He sat next to Katsuki without once acknowledging him.

“You all right?” The alpha asked.

Izuku wrinkled his nose, shifted his feet, and said nothing, giving him only a little tilt to the head to show that he’d heard anything at all. Even if he knew he could have pushed him, Katsuki didn’t, going back to his phone.

Eventually, there came a knock at the door and Matura walked in, smiling pleasantly. Katsuki gave the beta doctor a glance over, more than a little relieved that the man who walked through the door wasn’t Tanaka. Izuku, however, tensed, put on a very fake and very forced smile as the doctor closed the door behind him.

“Well, how are you feeling today, Midoriya?” The doctor asked.

“Oh, you know. As well as I can, considering.”

“Considering,” the doctor kept his voice light, but there came a little lithe to his tone, a bit like a parent about to chastise a child. He pulled out Izuku’s X-ray scans and put them up on a backlit panel, showing a fracture along the omega’s ulna. The doctor circled the area with the cap of his pen. “So last we spoke, I said we really wanted to see a marked improvement from your last X-ray but as you see, it’s about the same. Which means you haven’t been able to heal as quickly as we wanted. Or, perhaps, that you’ve been aggravating the break.” He smiled pleasantly at Izuku. “Midoriya, have you been handling your pup?”

The omega sunk into his seat, crossed his arms. Matura chuckled softly, tuned off the backlight. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t help your pup if you don’t heal up. Unfortunately, Kazue is over your weight limit.”

“You have a weight limit?” Katsuki turned to Izuku, who was glowering in his seat. “Izuku, why didn’t you tell me? I would have offered to help.”

“It’s fine.” The omega growled, but the doctor shook his head.

“Five pounds is the weight limit. A four-year old pup is certainly far over that limit. You can hold him in your lap, but no picking him up, no holding him with your arms. If you continue to do so, not only will you not heal properly, which could lead to the bones setting wrong, causing you more harm down the road, but you can actually make the break much worse. We really want to avoid surgery, Midoriya. As you know and I’ve told you, the risk associated with prolonged exposure to anesthesia is increased the longer someone is under it, and you were in a coma for several days. We want to keep you out of surgery and not under anesthesia for at least another month to mitigate any complications, okay? So you really need to stick to the weight limit.”

The omega sighed. “But he’s my pup.”

The doctor nodded understandingly. “Well, perhaps now is a good time to rely on others to help you out with him.” He glanced meaningfully, and for the first time, at Katsuki. “Do you have a good support system to help you with him?”

Izuku wrinkled his nose, sat up, brushed at his pants. “Yes, I do.”

“Then lean on them a little. Just for a couple of weeks. Then, you’ll be back to all your normal activities. You don’t want that weight limit to become permanent, do you?” The omega groaned, grimaced, and the doctor turned to his computer. “Rest and relaxation. That’s what I’m ordering.” He paused briefly, rolled over to Izuku. “May I look at your neck?”

Izuku nodded, the doctor pressing a couple of fingers to the bandages. Katuski felt a prickle of heat race along his limbs, but he forced himself not to react, watching instead how the doctor’s expression lifted slightly. “Everything feels good there. Lei said all the stitches came out well?”

“Yes. No problems. I just… want to keep it all covered.”

“That’s fine. Just change the bandages every now and then and check for any infections. Let me know if it starts really hurting again.” He glanced again at Katsuki, brought his voice a little lower, a little slower, with a bit of a question in it, “I’d like to discuss your medication now.”

Both Katsuki and Izuku picked up on the doctor’s underlying words, the alpha asking, “Do you want me to leave?”

Izuku shook his head. “It’s fine. Did you get my message from the other day?”

“Yes, I did,” the doctor sighed. “I know it can be easy to just think that increasing an anti-anxiety medication will make everything better, but it takes a while to build it up in your system. These first couple of weeks are typically the worst. If you can push through them, it’ll help you in the long run to be on a lower dose, all right?”

Izuku wrung his hands. Glanced up at Katsuki. “It’s… been pretty bad recently.”

The doctor turned away from his computer to face the omega, nodding sympathetically. “I know it can’t be easy. But I want you to try to stay at the lower dose for another week or two, then we can reevaluate. Have you been able to find a therapist?”

“Yeah. I see her in a couple days for my first real appointment.”

The doctor nodded, looking satisfied. “Good. Let’s get you started on that. In the meantime, we do have some breathing and focus techniques that help with controlling anxiety. It’s better if you have someone to walk you through them the first couple of times, but they can really help if you’re feeling overwhelmed. I’ll have someone print it off for you to take home.” He nodded to Katsuki. “It would be good for you to take a look, just so you know what to do to help if he needs it.”

“Right.” Katsuki thought back to the night of Izuku’s panic attack, the desperate, terrified look in his face, the way he seemed to have no control over what was happening. It was easy for him to have serious doubts about some breathing and focus exercises helping in such a situation, but when he thought about it, that wasn’t far off from what Uraraka had done for the omega. So maybe it would be worth at least reading it over and seeing what it had to offer.

Matura nodded, turned back to Midoriya. “Sound like a plan for now? Like I said, we can reevaluate at our next appointment and if things get very bad, you can always call my office and we’ll figure something else out, okay?”

Izuku bit his lip, but nodded. “All right.”

The doctor paused, glanced the omega up and down. Then, he rolled his chair a little closer. “Listen,” he brought his voice low, smiled softly when Izuku met his gaze, “I know it must be hard right now. I know things must be overwhelming. I won’t tell you everything will be okay, but I will tell you that things can get better. Just give it a little more time, okay?”

For a moment, Izuku didn’t react. He seemed to turn over the doctor’s words, to look closely at him, to search him for something. But eventually, he nodded, though he lowered his gaze to the floor.

“I, uh, wanted to ask, too, if it was still necessary for me to take suppressants for my next heat.”

Matura nodded, glancing to his computer and turning to click on a couple of things. “Yes, we highly recommend it after a traumatic experience like yours.”

“And… I can’t take a fertility test outside of my heat?”

Realization seemed to dawn very quickly on the doctor’s face just as quickly as Katsuki felt his stomach sinking into his shoes. He shifted uncomfortably as Matura faced Izuku. “With you being a male omega, for any sort of result, it would have to take place during your heat.”

The omega sighed, nodded. “All right.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. You just focus on one thing at a time for now, okay?”

“Okay.”

Matura nodded once. “Good.” He typed out a couple of things on the computer. “All right. Next week, let’s do this again. We’ll do more X-rays. I really want to see that fracture start to heal very soon or we’ll have to start considering alternatives. So please, refrain from picking up your pup as much as you can.”

“All right, I will.”

Matura closed the computer screen, stood, smiled warmly at the two. “I won’t make you promise, but now you have someone who knows about your little secret, so I’m hoping to see better results next time.” He paused. “Do you have any more questions for me?”

“No, thank you.”

The doctor nodded, turned to Katsuki. “Do you have any questions you’d like to ask?”

Katsuki blinked, shook his head. “Nope.”

“All right. I’ll have the nurse give you those printouts before you leave.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Matura raised a hand, “Be well and I’ll see you soon.” He shut the door behind him, leaving Izuku and Katsuki alone.

Immediately, the alpha turned to the omega. “You know,” he said with a sigh, “I should have known. I’ve broken bones before, so I should have known and I’m not angry. But c’mon, Izuku. You can’t do that to yourself.”

“Seriously, I don’t want to hear it,” Izuku hissed sharply. “I just got to see him again. I just wanted to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. After what he went through, I couldn’t just not hold him.”

There was a point to his reasoning, but Katsuki still found himself a bit frustrated. No, he couldn’t fault the omega for wanting to comfort his pup and to be comforted by his pup after everything that had happened, but he wished someone had known about the weight limit so they could help to mitigate for the omega. He would have been more than happy to pick Kazue up and give him to the omega once he was sitting down or to hold him with the omega comforted him. Now at least, with some time having passed and Katsuki fully aware of the situation, they could come up with a plan to keep Izuku from picking up Kazue too much. Between Katsuki and everyone else in the pack, they’d think of something.

As they waited for the nurse to return, Katsuki suddenly smirked. “So that’s why you were nervous, huh? You knew the doctor was going to tell you off for holding Kazue.”

To his surprise, the omega actually snapped his jaws. “Why did I let you come with me?”

“It’s a good question, but it’s really too late to be asking that.” The omega groaned and rolled his eyes.

Eventually the nurse returned, handing Izuku several sheets of paper and explaining how the techniques worked. Katsuki listened as much as he could, but he was becoming more and more distracted by a little voice at the back of his head. A voice was kept repeating something the nurse had said earlier.

Courting. Courting. Courting.

He glanced at Izuku, who was distracted by the nurse. He really looked at the omega. Really thought long and hard about everything.

When Izuku turned to him, his mouth opening to say something, he paused, blinked. “What’s wrong?”

Katsuki shook his head. “Nothing. You ready to go?”

The omega raised an eyebrow at him, but told him yes, the two of them following the nurse back to the waiting room.

- - -

Kirishima, as he typically did, spent a large part of their patrol talking. Either to people on the street or at Katsuki, the alpha distracted and incommunicative, though it didn’t seem to bother the beta, though it rarely ever did. Katsuki was admittedly too distracted to know what Kirishima was going on about. He was still thinking about what the nurse had said, that word playing over and over in his head.

Courting. Courting. Courting.

What would it look like to court Izuku? What would he do? How would Izuku react? What would that mean to them?

He paused when he felt Kirishima stop beside him. The beta had his hands on his hips, head tilted toward Katsuki. “Seriously, what’s going on in your head? I’ve never seen you so distracted.”

Katsuki growled, glanced around. He stepped forward, Kirishima following him. He thought carefully, considered if he really wanted to say something, but he knew Kirishima was currently courting Mina, that he had some experience in this matter. So maybe it would worth the embarrassment of asking.

He clicked his tongue, growled, “I’m thinking about courting Izuku.”

Kirishima blinked, shrugged. “Well good for you. I say go for it! But if you’re going to court him again, you’re going to have to step it up from the last time you courted him.”

“I never courted Izuku. I’ve never courted anyone.”

The beta skidded to a stop, spinning on the alpha, “What?”

Katsuki snapped his jaws, but Kirishima didn’t even seem to notice. “You never actually courted him? I thought you were together for a long time!”

“We were! I guess. We never considered each other mates and we were together for so long that I never even thought about courting him.”

Kirishima let his jaw go slack. “Wow. Seriously? No wonder your relationship fell apart.” Immediately, Katsuki bristled, felt his fury boiling at the challenge, growling at the beta, who continued talking, “Courting helps establish rules and guidelines to your relationship! It’s how you figure out where each other stands and their feelings. It set expectations! So yeah, if you’d actually gone through with courting him, maybe things would have ended up better.”

Katsuki let his snarl drop into a glower, still not happy with the beta’s assessment, even if it made sense. From their conversation the other day, the alpha had figured that both of them were slightly insecure about the relationship, unsure of where both they and the other stood about it. Maybe if they had gone through a traditional courting period they would have understood each other’s positions more and would have been able to work through it. Maybe he wouldn’t have felt as if his relationship with Izuku was weighing him down. Maybe the omega wouldn’t have felt so scared of telling him about the pup. Maybe this could have all been avoided.

“Anyway,” Kirishima kept talking even as Katsuki sulked over his own thoughts, “I think you should still go for it! Especially if you guys never courted before. Might be a good change of pace. Plus, it might be something to take both your minds off what’s happened. And it’ll give Midoriya more confidence in himself. After all, I’ve never courted an omega before, but I’ve heard they’re super particular about courting rituals. Especially male omegas.” He grinned at Katsuki. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Katsuki lifted his lip, glared resolutely forward.

Unconcerned with his nonreaction, Kirishima grinned at the alpha. “So, what’s your plan to ask him? Got to have something special thought out, huh?”

Katsuki paused, fought to keep his scowl in place. “I can’t just… ask?”

The beta’s face immediately fell into incredulous disappointment. “You’re not serious, right?” Katsuki felt his lip twitch, Kirishima ignoring it, raising his hands in a helpless gesture. “C’mon, man! Don’t tell me you really don’t know how this works?"

“Why would I! Never had interest in courting anyone and like I said, I didn’t court Izuku when we were together.”

The unimpressed look remained on Kirishima’s face. “Something tells me we have a lot of work to do.”

For the first time, Katsuki felt his scowl fading, a moment of apprehension flooding a line of tension in his shoulders. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean we’re going to have to win your omega!”Kirishima slung an arms around the alpha, pulling him closer despite his warning growl. “C’mon, man! You want to do this right, don’t you?”

The growl remained in Katsuki’s voice, “Yeah.”

“Good!” Kirishima grinned, but within it, there was a very distinct note of mischief. Katsuki had known the beta long enough to know that look usually proceeded chaos. And that was something he could not stand for. Not for something as important as this.

So he pushed the beta away. “This isn’t going to be a team effort! I’m the only one who’s going to be courting Izuku. So you can tell me how this works and I’ll take it from there.”

Kirishima shrugged, “That’s fine. Ask me anything you want! We’ll get you set up for success.”

Katsuki let his glower slowly twitch back into place, but his growling faded. Because at the end of the day, he really didn’t know what he was doing and he wanted this to work out. Even if he was a bit of a nuisance sometimes, Kirishima only had best intentions for Katsuki. If he could, he’d do whatever he could to help the alpha. Not to mention, his choices were somewhat limited. Both Iida and Kaminari had courted omegas before, but he wasn’t eager to listen to either of them jabber on about this. Iida would just lecture him and he was not at all confident Kaminari would be able to give him useful information. So it was Kirishima or he’d have to do it on his own.

With one final click of his teeth, he said, “Fine. Just give me the rundown on how this is supposed to work.”

A grin, a bit mischievous, a bit gleeful, spread over Kirishima’s lips.

- - -

It was hell waiting for the right moment. And of course, that moment never came.

It had been days since Katsuki had spoken with Kirishima, days of meticulous planning and wondering. He wrapped the gift, considered how he wanted to present it, and made sure everything was perfect. Then, he waited for the opportune moment to give it to Izuku. All day long, Katsuki waited for a moment when he was alone. Maybe getting a cup of coffee. Or just taking a moment to himself on the balcony. Even slipping away for a nap would have worked. The only time Katsuki ever saw him without Kazue or a member of the pack however was the moment he stepped into the bathroom, which was decidedly the most unromantic and creepy moment he could have chosen to do this. So, of course, he didn’t, becoming more and more irritable as the day went on and his chances to try anything slipped away.

So as the stars began to glitter above, as Todoroki lit a fire out in the gardens and Izuku laid back with Kazue curled contentedly in his lap, he supposed this was going to be the best time to try, no matter who was in front of it.

He didn’t go up to get a chair next to Izuku. Didn’t otherwise announce his presence other than to come to a stand in front of Izuku, the omega turning a curious look at him, though that look turned to surprise when the alpha placed a tiny, well-wrapped box on the table next to him.

“This is for you,” Katsuki said.

Izuku glanced from him to the box and back several times. He seemed to be trying to line up the pieces, seemed to be trying to figure out what was happening and not quite reaching the right conclusion. The longer they stayed in silence, the more Katsuki was aware of his packmates behind him, watching the exchange. Alongside Todoroki was Yaoyorozu, Tsu, Shoji, and Kirishima. While Kirishima was practically buzzing with anticipation, nobody else had seemingly picked up on what was happening.

Finally, the omega blinked up at Katsuki. “Uh, what is it?”

Katsuki didn’t give himself a moment to be nervous. He simply said, “It’s a courting gift.”

The atmosphere changed almost instantly. While the pack rustled excitedly behind them, Izuku didn’t move, staring up at Katsuki. To anyone else, he might have seemed to be in shock. But the alpha knew him too well. He could see the little lines pulling at his mouth, the tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes seemed to focus in on him.

So he wasn’t all that surprised when the omega growled, “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“No.”

“Why are you giving me a courting gift?”

“Because I would like your permission to court you obviously.”

The omega inhaled sharply. Behind him, Katsuki was aware of the pack having gone completely still and silent, but he dare not look away from Izuku. Besides, what did it matter what they thought. This was a moment just for them. It was something they would navigate. Even if in the end, it didn’t mean anything.

Izuku carefully set Kazue Kazue on the ground, the pup giving a little note of irritation, though the omega ignored him and stood to face the alpha. They weren’t quite nose to nose, but just as before, Katsuki got the impression of Izuku looked down at him, no matter their actual height.

“I want you to listen very closely to me, Katsuki,” he hissed, “I don’t need your pity.”

Katsuki let the words linger, let the omega set his teeth. Then, he brought his voice a little lower, “Is that what you think this is?”

“I’m not the little omega you knew when we were kids. I’m different. Stronger! I don’t need you, Katsuki.”

“That’s fine. I don’t need you to need me. And I’m not trying to pity you,” he waited, but Izuku only narrowed his eyes dangerously. He thought about reaching for the omega’s hand, but thought better of it. “I’ve thought about this for a long time now. I thought about what it would mean for me, for you, for Kazue, for me to do this. And I want this.” He lifted his chin slightly, tilted it to show submission to the omega. Izuku noticed, narrowed his eyes, but didn’t speak. “We never did this properly when we were kids. Hell, we had no idea what all this was about. But now we’re both older, and I want to do this. I want to do right by you. I want to court you, Izuku Midoriya. I want to give you everything you could ever dream of. I want to spoil you completely rotten, because you’re worth more than any other omega I’ve ever met and you always have been. I just haven’t been mature enough to see it.”

For a moment, Izuku didn’t move. He just stared up at Katsuki, eyes nearly slits, jaw still set behind tight lips.

Katsuki nodded toward the gift. “You don’t have to answer me right now. In fact, I think I’d prefer it if you didn’t. But think about it, all right? My offer will stand from here until the day I die. I want the chance to prove what you mean to me. Whenever you’re ready.”

Finally, the omega shifted, leaned slightly away. He crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest, sized Katuski up carefully. His jaw eventually loosened, as did the anger in his eyes, falling away to reveal something not quite like confusion or apprehension, but maybe something a little unsure.

He shifted uneasily, took a step back. “Sorry. I guess I jumped to conclusions.”

Katsuki shrugged. “After everything, I don’t blame you. I still have a lot to apologize for and I’ll do that regardless of your answer. I’ll prove to you that I’m not the alpha you used to know. That I want to be better.”

The omega shifted, kicked at a pebble at his feet. His gaze only lingered on the ground for a few heartbeats. “You are better. Even if you’re still a hotheaded, dumb alpha sometimes.”

Katsuki shrugged, “We all could use some ongoing work.”

“Right.” There came a bit of awkwardness to his stance, so Katuski took a step back.

“Just think about it for now. Whenever you’re ready to give me your answer, I’ll be there.”

“Right,” the omega repeated, watched as Katsuki turned away.

The alpha had completely forgotten some of the pack was watching them. They were all silent and wide-eyed, watching the interaction. Even as Izuku shifted and retook his seat behind Katsuki, the others didn’t move, staring until he snapped his teeth.

“Show’s over. Quit your staring.”

Everyone shifted uncomfortably, broken from the spell, save for Todoroki, who just blinked at him. Katsuki crossed the space to an empty seat beside Kirishima, the beta giving him a discreet thumb’s up. Across the fire, Izuku was settling back down with Kazue in his lap. The pup had been unusually quiet for the exchange, but not he reached for the tiny wrapped box, Izuku intercepting his hand and pulling it away.

“Mommy, what’s courting?”

“It’s a secret, Kazue.”

The pup gave a gasp, pressing his hands to his cheeks. “A secret? Mommy, we don’t keep secrets!”

Izuku shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.” He leaned in very close to the pup, whispered something in his ear. Kazue listened, wrinkling his nose more and more as the omega spoke.

When he leaned away, the pup snorted. “Sounds boring.”

“Well luckily for you, you’re not allowed to court until you’re older.”

“Pffthh! It’s going to be boring when I’m a grown up too! No courting!”

Izuku ruffled his hair affectionately, settling down when the pup curled up at his chest. He never once looked over the fire at Katsuki, though the alpha knew he must be hyper aware of his presence. Equally, he never once addressed the gift sitting on the table next to him.

Katsuki did not linger too long, just long enough to prove he wasn’t running away from the confrontation. Then, he glanced at his watch, stood.

“Where’re you going?” Kirishima asked immediately.

“Bed. I’ve got a double shift for the agency and with Tsukauchi. I’ll be up early and I’ll be back late tomorrow. So don’t bug me, all right?” He snapped his jaws toward the pack, turned to Kazue and Izuku. “Good night, Kazue. Sleep well, Izuku.”

“Kacchan is going to bed already?” Kazue sounded shocked.

Izuku hummed, nodded. “I think bed is a good idea. You should be getting ready for bed, too.”

Kazue wrinkled his nose, then pushed himself off to Izuku’s lap to rush over to the alpha. “Can I sleep in Kacchan’s room tonight?”

The omega immediately went rigid, though Katsuki ran his hand through the pup’s hair and shook his head. “You stay with your omega. I’m going to be up too early for you anyway. I won’t have time to make you breakfast tomorrow.”

“Awww!” The pup pouted, but relented when Katsuki stepped away.

“Be good, pup.”

Although he didn’t hear Kazue say anything in return, he did hear Izuku rise from his chair, his gentle coaxing of the pup to get ready for bed.

He didn’t allow himself to think about what he had done, what had happened, as he got into bed. The less he thought about it, the less time he had to worry over it. And honestly, worrying wasn’t going to change anything. He just rolled over, trying to catch the lingering scent of his pup and Izuku on his skin.

- - -

His bedroom door being shoved open just before his alarm had Katsuki snapping up in bed, a snarl on his lips. He froze when he realized who was framed in the doorway.

It was the first time Izuku had seen his room. The omega had never shown any interest in looking around before, so it was a bit of a shock to see the omega there, especially when he crossed the room to stand at Katsuki’s bedside. Still a little startled, the alpha didn’t react, not even when the omega dumped a little sliver of paper onto his lap.

“I want your katsudon,” Izuku said sharply, “and I want it tonight.”

Even if he knew what was happening, Katsuki fingered the little slip of paper, reading it over, if only to confirm.

Dinner, your choice, your time, your place, just the two of us.

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since Katsuki had carefully rolled up that little bit of paper into a tiny box and wrapped it all up to give to the omega. He had been so convinced he wouldn’t see this paper for anytime soon that he was actually a little too shocked to react, that is, until Izuku crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“Well?”

There was something of a demand and challenge in his voice. He obviously knew that Katsuki had said he was supposed to work a double shift that day, that he’d be home late. He’d be tired and sweaty and maybe a little grumpy from having to deal with people all day. It wasn’t going to be fun to get home and immediately start cooking. But that was the point. Izuku was testing just how far he was willing to go. Perhaps he wasn’t exactly accepting Katsuki’s offer. He was trying to see just how much it actually meant to him.

So he grinned, crushed the paper in his hand and flung it over his shoulder. He took Izuku’s hand with a bit more confidence than perhaps he’d done before, kissed his knuckles with a smile in his lips. “If that’s what you want. It’ll be late, but I’ll make it happen.”

Izuku’s lips thinned slightly, but he didn’t pull away from Katsuki’s touch. “I expect a top quality meal.”

“Of course. Nothing less for you.”

“And you said it’ll only be the two of us, but I want it here.”

“I’ll make it happen.”

The omega nodded, took in a breath. “We’ll call it a date.”

“You don’t have to call it anything but dinner.” Katsuki paused as his alarm started going off. He turned it off, slung his feet over the bed. “I have to get going. You just sit back and let me handle everything, all right? Have a relaxing day and tonight, I’ll treat you to a fucking amazing dinner.”

Izuku nodded again, though some of his confidence had faded away. “I-I’ll look forward to it.”

Katsuki felt his blood rushing with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was a bit like what happened just before he went into a fight. A flood of bubbling emotion in his gut spilling into the rest of his body. Where his fights brought him apprehension, adrenalin, and a little bit of fear, he found his body warm with joy, anticipation, and also a little bit of fear.

He channeled all that warmth into a grin, a look that said challenge accepted.

Chapter Text

It would have been one hell of a day, and he supposed it still was one hell of a day, but honestly Katsuki was far too busy to notice. Between coordinating with Iida, Kirishima, and Yaoyorozu to get most of the pack out of the house for the night as well as to set something up to make sure the pups were looked after, doing his normal patrol, attending another update meeting with Tsukauchi and participating in a raid on a suspected hideout for Yokoyama – with no success, aggravatingly enough – he had too much going on to think about much else. It also meant he wasn’t spending too much time with his stomach in knots about the upcoming dinner with Izuku. Thoughts of the omega flickered between moments, often accompanied by the anticipation of the night ahead. But with it also came a sense of relief, of wanting the moment to finally come.

He had everything planned out to the letter. He knew exactly what he wanted, how he was going to let the night play out, knew exactly how he wanted to make the omega feel. The night would only be successful if Izuku came out of it feeling more at peace than he’d been before. To that end, Katsuki planned and planned and finally settled on what he would do to reach that goal: a simple, casual dinner. Nothing too fancy. Anything overly fancy would just intimidate Izuku. Although maybe intimidate was the wrong word. Izuku had never really been drawn to the overly flashy things in life and while Katsuki was eager to spoil him with everything he’d never been able to have before, now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time for small moments, little gestures, a quiet dinner.

It would be more than enough.

And Katsuki would make sure it was absolutely perfect.

At the end of the day, he finally shucked off his costume and all his gear, showered quickly, and made his way toward the store. As he picked through the aisles, grabbing everything he’d need for that night, he kept in close contact with the pack, tracking where everyone was, counting off in his head as slowly, the packhouse emptied. When he finally got home, it was darkly night, the stars shining down upon him, a strange hush over everything around him.

He knew most everyone had already left, but it was still a bit of a surprise to walk through the front door to quiet. In that quiet, he could actually hear the house settling for the first time in a long time. It creaked and groaned and seemed to mourn just how empty it was.

Katsuki still glanced around, looking for anyone who may be lingering. He knew Yaoyorozu was upstairs with Uraraka tending to the pups. Luckily it was late enough that they would all be either already asleep or going to bed soon. Kazue might be the only one up, especially if he caught wind that something was going on. He was smart enough to realize that the house had been buzzing all day, that something was going on. So Katsuki knew the alpha and omega would have their hands full. But they’d also promised to keep Kazue out of the way, to get him to bed at a proper time.

Perhaps it wasn’t surprising that he found nobody in the living room or kitchen, but it was a bit surprising to find that Izuku didn’t come down to see him when he entered the home.

“Hello! I’m back!” He waited, but the omega didn’t make an appearance. He thought about going to find him, thought maybe he’d fallen asleep. If that was the case, then he didn’t want to disturb the omega. He needed all the rest he could get. Besides, he didn’t need to be there for the cooking process. If Izuku was happy relaxing elsewhere, then that was fine.

Katsuki instead turned all his attention to the kitchen, laying out everything, making sure he hadn’t missed something. He pulled out his phone, set it to play one of his podcasts, about chemical interactions again, and began cooking. There was something a little strange about cooking for himself and Izuku. No, this wasn’t the first time he’d cooked something that the omega had eaten, not even since reuniting, but this was the first time he’d cooked for just the two of them in a long, long time. Any other time had been for the pack, with Izuku being just a part of that larger picture. This was a bit more intimate than any of those times previously. He found himself moving with a lot more care than he ever had before, making sure everything was just right. His podcast played, but it went only half-listened to.

He was so focused on cooking that he was actually startled when a voice said, “What are you listening to?”

He spun over his shoulder, feeling tension ringing up his back, though it faded quickly away when he saw Izuku standing in the doorway, his nose wrinkled slightly. He paused, wondering what to say, how to introduce the night ahead, but eventually just went with, “It’s a science podcast on chemical reactions.” He reached for his phone, intending to turn it off, stopped when Izuku stepped forward, tilting his head toward it.

He listened for a moment, cast a curious look at Katsuki. “Why are you listening to something like this? Never thought of you as a science guy.”

The alpha lifted a corner of his lip. “It’s not that. I’ve been looking into additives I might be able to mix with my sweat to make it react differently. Make it more versatile. More explosive, less explosive, make it release certain gases or not make certain gases.” He shrugged. “It’s all just a thought right now. Haven’t had a lot of success.”

Izuku nodded, tilted his head the other way. Lifted a hand to his chin, eyes flickering over Katsuki in what might have been a smug grin. “You know, I’ve studied most of this for years now.”

Katsuki paused, stared at the omega. “You what?”

He shrugged. “Not all of it, obviously, but if you want to be a support engineer, you have to have a broad base of knowledge so you can cater to any sort of Quirk you may run into. Plus, most people just focus on the actual engineering part so there’s a big market for people with more specialized knowledge in things like chemistry and biology. And I actually really enjoyed the chemistry stuff, so I took a couple extra classes on it.”

It occurred for the first time to Katsuki that Izuku was, in fact, much more well educated than he was. Sure, he’d gone to U.A., had had some of the best teachers and classes that could be given in a high school setting, but most of his work even in high school had been around practical skills for hero work. Beyond that, he’d never attended a single university class. His knowledge base stopped well before Izuku’s, and maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised to hear the omega knew all of this already, but he found himself shocked yet again.

Eventually, he ran a hand through his hair. “You know, I can learn most of this, but it’s been hell trying to figure it all out. Think you might be able to tutor be somewhat?”

“Sure. And I can do more, if you want,” the omega smiled as he spoke, seemed to settle into something Katsuki hadn’t seen before. In fact, he began talking and talking, and the more he did, the more the alpha smiled as well, “I know that your sweat contains some sort of nitroglycerin compound, even if it’s not exact. Even still, it would have to have some sort of combination of nitrogen with something able to burn. The abundance of oxygen and hydrogen is what helps it in most cases, but that doesn’t necessarily have to be the case. It could be something similar. If we’re able to figure out the exact chemical compounds of your sweat, we can trace it backward into new effects you’d like. Like you said, you might be able to use extra reactions to make them more explosive, or to burn at a certain temperature, or any number of things!” He paused, realizing that Katsuki was watching him. He shifted from foot to foot, cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“No. It’s fine. That’s the first time I’ve seen you do your mumbling thing.”

Izuku let his head tilt to the side, a bit of a drop, his gaze falling away. As it did, a little smile tugged at the corner of his lip, his hand trailed along the counter. “Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve done that. Felt good though.”

“You know I was half expecting a similar treatment to when you met the rest of the pack.”

To this, Izuku shrugged, very deliberately looked away without another word. Giving him a moment to breathe, Katsuki turned to check on the food, turning over the pork to reveal a golden underside. He poked at it, satisfied with the result, began pulling the ingredients together for the sauce.

All the while, he was aware of Izuku watching him, viridian eyes following his every move. It was quiet between them, but even after Katsuki’s question was left unanswered, it wasn’t necessarily awkward. If anything, there was a serene contentedness between them. An acceptance of each other in that room. A comfort in the other’s presence. Some, small lingering feeling of a past long since lost to them.

Katsuki would have been happy with the quiet, with the knowing that Izuku was with him, but eventually, the omega broached that silence with a deep, thoughtful breath. “You know, it’s honestly still kind of weird.” The alpha cocked his eyebrows, a question in them, though Izuku never directly met his gaze. “Sometimes I forget that they’re all heroes. That they’re all heroes I know. When I met Uraraka, I actually didn’t even remember her name, even though I’ve been a big fan of hers.” He shook his head, a bit of a small on his lips. “Guess I haven’t let myself think of them as heroes. They’re just people here. People I’ve been trying to get to know and learning to like and live with. It’s… very different seeing them on the television or even on the street being a hero and getting to know them as people. Maybe it’d be different if I saw them in action again. But I don’t really know.”

Katsuki listened, rolled the wooden spoon between his hands. He checked the pork, saw the other side was now the same golden color, and carefully removed them from the oil, setting the pan aside to cool. “I get that. It would be weird fanboying over them while also trying to live with them.”

The omega’s nose wrinkled slightly. Something in his expression told Katsuki he’d missed a point, but before he could say anything, Izuku came over to watch what he was doing. “Looks good,” he said.

Katsuki growled. “Sauce isn’t done. You can sit down if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s, uh, good just talking.”

“Well then, by all means. Not kicking you out. Just making sure you’re comfortable.”

“I’m fine, Katsuki,” there was a note of a laugh in his voice, though he did back away as Katsuki turned to finishing everything up. “Any recommendations for the drinks tonight?”

“Well, katsudon doesn’t lend itself easily to an alcoholic pairing but,” Katsuki opened one of the top cabinets, far out of the reach of any of the pups, and pulled out a bottle of wine, “this is a particular favorite of Todoroki’s and Yaoyorozu’s if you’d like to try it.”

When Katsuki held out the bottle to him, Izuku examined it closely. “You going to have any?”

“No. I don’t really drink any. It’s not a very good idea with my Quirk.” It was the easy answer. And he knew it. An answer that nobody would question. An answer that raised no suspicions. Only Todoroki had ever seemed to look at him when he’d said that before, as if seeing right past him, as if understanding the unspoken words in his actions.

Somehow, Izuku lifted his chin, seemed to hear those words as well. He watched Katsuki carefully, took him in piece by piece, then shook his hand. “Water is fine for me.”

Katsuki nodded, returned the bottle. “We have plenty of tea if you’d like that instead.”

“Actually, that does sound good. Any recommendations there?”

Katsuki offered a green tea that he found quite relaxing, though Izuku laughed at the thought of him enjoying a relaxing cup of tea. Still, the omega seemed interested in trying it, so he began brewing it as he finished his cooking. He banished Izuku from the kitchen just before he finished, the omega protesting only a little before stepping into the dining room to take his seat, then the alpha sliced the pork, put the bowls together, and poured himself and Izuku cups of the tea.

He brought it all out on the tea tray, which he’d found more use for in the past week than he had since moving into the packhouse. Seeing the finished meal, Izuku’s eyes lit up and Katsuki swore he saw the omega begin to salivate. The image had his alpha brain preening happily, the omega’s seeming acceptance of his courting gift making him feel a bit lightheaded and giddy.

However, he didn’t allow the feeling to show, sitting right next to Izuku. The omega had taken the head of the table, with Katsuki sitting to his right where they could still see each other without being across from one another. Trying not to be too creepy, Katsuki watched the omega out of the corner of his eye as Izuku sifted through the bowl, as if carefully selecting what grains of rice he would eat first. The omega picked up a slice of the pork and popped it into his mouth, chewing, his expression unreadable.

After swallowing, he looked up at Katsuki, smirked a bit. “You going to eat?”

The alpha startled, cursed himself, realizing he had just been staring at the omega, his food forgotten. He took a bite, chewed through the flavor, thought that it was pretty good, one of his better times making it. Still, he did find himself looking up once again to see Izuku taking another bite, a bit of a smile on his lips. Even if Katsuki didn’t know if it was directly because of his food or something else, the omega looked happy. And that was all that mattered.

They ate quietly, until Izuku paused, lifting his head to stare at the empty table in front of them. Katsuki followed his gaze, admitted silently that it was very strange seeing nobody else beside them, that the table was a lot bigger than maybe he’d ever realized.

Izuku chewed thoughtfully, swallowed. “You know. It’s weird with the house so quiet.”

The alpha grunted. “You get used to the noise. Even if it is annoying as hell.”

Izuku hummed, quiet, content. “Better than a constant stream of customers below your feet. You just wouldn’t believe what would go on, what I would hear at all hours of the day and night.”

“Seems a bit dangerous. All those people around all the time,” Katsuki growled.

Izuku shook his head, tilted his tea in Katsuki’s direction “Not as much as you would think. If anything, I felt a bit safer knowing someone was always right there. If anything ever happened, help was just a few steps away.” A bit of a smirk pulled at his lips, the corner of his eyes. “Although, every now and then, I would get a drunk or some punk knocking at my door.”

Katsuki went very still, chopsticks raised halfway to his mouth, food forgotten. “Some punk?”

The omega’s smirked deepened. “Yeah. They always seemed to be pretty happy to see me. But none of them quite expected to get shoved back down the stairs if they caused any trouble.” He met Katsuki’s raised eyebrows with a simple shrug. “Hey, I had to protect Kazue. And it seems you did rub off on me. Just a little.”

The alpha felt his jaw click shut, but he kept staring at Izuku. Izuku, who had gone right back to his dinner, as if he hadn’t said anything of consequence at all. And maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Katsuki was just reading too much into the situation, Maybe Izuku had only meant to make a joke, nothing more.

Yeah. That had to be it.

Right?

Katsuki went to take his bite, found his chopsticks empty, his food puled up on the table. He growled in annoyance, glanced to see if the omega had noticed. If he had, he politely ignored as Katsuki cleaned up the mess and went back to eating.

He took a couple more bites, heard something rattle upstairs. Both he and Izuku turned toward the noise, listened, but the house fell silent again. Even in that silence, it had been nice to be remained that the packhouse wasn’t completely empty. That Kazue was safely tucked into bed upstairs. Thinking of the pup, Katsuki remembered he hadn’t been able to tell him good night, made a mental note to do so later, even if the pup was still asleep.

Committing the thought to memory, he chewed on the end of his chopsticks, glanced to see Izuku taking a sip of his tea. When the omega caught his glance, he nodded to the half-empty bowl in front of him, asked, “How is it?”

Izuku smiled, set his cup down. “Your cooking is always good. Happy that hasn’t changed.”

“Is it perfect?”

The omega moved some of his rice around. “Does it need to be?”

“For the circumstance, yes.” Something seemed to shift in Izuku, some window closing in his eyes as he turned to face Katsuki, to watch him, to pick him apart. Katsuki sat still and quiet under his evaluation, thought eventually, he let out a short huff. “This was for you, so it should be perfect.”

“What does that matter? Why does that make a difference?” There was a hard edge to Izuku’s voice, something untrusting, something guarded.

Katsuki took in his apprehension, tilted his neck toward the omega, let off a bit of his scent, hoping it might help calm him. “Because I want tonight to be perfect. You deserve to have a perfect night.” The omega’s face softened, but only slightly, so Katsuki took the chance, let his signature smirk pull at his lips. “Plus, I am trying to court you. I wasn’t joking when I said that. I’m going to spoil you so rotten no other alpha could ever hold up to your standards.”

Immediately, Izuku’s expression tightened, more doors closing off, more walls thrown hastily up. He twisted his lips, said, “So you’re just trying to keep me away from other alphas? Just want me to yourself?”

Katsuki blinked, felt as if he were suddenly standing on uneven ground. “Well, that is the point of courting someone.”

The omega nodded, once, sharp. “Don’t want me going out and finding someone else, huh? Your ego probably couldn’t take that.”

The floor shattered, sent Katsuki falling first into confusion, then frustration veiled thinly by anger. It took a lot not to immediately snap his jaws or growl, to just take in a breath and tilt his head submissively to the omega.

“This isn’t about my ego. This is me trying to give you what you deserve.”

“To be stuck with you forever?”

“What? No, I—” Katsuki felt his teeth grinding against one another, more so when Izuku turned his back to him. “What’s gotten into you? We were just having dinner. I was trying to give you a compliment. I’m trying to tell you exactly what I intend to do! What else can I do to make you realize I’m being serious?” He waited, but Izuku kept his back to him, didn’t say anything, didn’t even react. The alpha clicked his tongue, felt a vein throb in his forehead. “If you don’t want this, then just tell me. If you don’t want me around, fine. I get it. But don’t jerk me around like this!”

“I’m not.”

Something in Izuku’s voice had all the anger flooding away. A hitch, a bit of a shiver, something that told him something wasn’t right.

He paused, stared hard at the omega, saw a shudder in his shoulders, his head drawn down, a taste of something sour and spoiled in his scent. He waited again, but Izuku didn’t move, didn’t say anything else, so he reached out, put his hand over the omega’s. At first, Izuku tensed, half pulled away, stilled under Katsuki’s palm. Skin to skin, the alpha could feel the slight tremors in the omega’s fingers. Slowly, gently, keeping an eye on how he reacted, Katsuki rubbed his hand, curled his fingers around his palm, messaged him, slow, steady. Even then, Izuku didn’t turn to him, didn’t react.

Until, that is, he shuddered and a noise caught in his throat, something that might have been a sob if allowed to breathe.

“Hey,” Katsuki lowered his voice, pressed his other hand to the omega’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Just… please talk to me.”

At his request, Izuku choked on a bitter scoff, ran his free hand over his forehead. Slowly, he turned, a stream of water down his cheeks, his eyes wet, red, sad. When he met Katsuki’s gaze, he immediately turned away, shuddered.

“Why?”

Katsuki waited, but the omega didn’t elaborate.

Ironically, tragically, he found himself thinking back to his victim reassurance training, wanted to tear something apart at the thought that such a thing was relevant for the situation. Still, he kept his voice low, his posture relaxed, kept calm, “Why what?”

“I don’t know.” Izuku tired to wipe his tears away, but they flowed right back down his face. “It’s just…,” he paused, eventually shook his head.

Katsuki waited. He waited for more than just a few heartbeat behind, as the omega stared forward struggled with something within himself. “Talk to me,” the alpha said. “I want to hear what you have to say.”

Another dry laugh rattled up Izuku’s throat. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, but no words came out. But he was trying. Katsuki saw that. So he stayed quiet, waited, rubbed circles into Izuku’s shoulder and hand. They sat in quiet for some time, but that time meant very little. It was the quiet that mattered. Sticky and suffocating, as if the very air was what was keeping Izuku from being able to speak. There wasn’t much Katsuki could do to counteract this, but he breathed, let out as much of a calming scent as he could, lent whatever assurance he could to the omega. Slowly, slowly, he felt Izuku unwinding, his fingers unclenching, his shoulder slumping tiredly, his entire body shaking with renewed sobs.

It was the crying that really made it difficult for Katsuki to keep himself calm. He’d never been able to handle Izuku crying. It had always, always, set him off. But going on a rampage had never helped. Not before and certainly not now. So he breathed, he tried to drain the noise out of his ears, to keep as much of a peaceful presence as he could. Which, it being him, was pretty difficult. But he did his best.

And eventually, Izuku opened his mouth, and the words spat out, released from deep within him, the omega seemingly unable to stop himself from speaking, “Why? Why can’t I just breathe? Why can’t I stay away from you? Why do I just give in? Why do I let myself do this?”

Each word was a bit of a knife, inching into his flesh. The calm Katsuki had been trying to project broke all at once. It was cold, to be rejected. To be pushed away like this. To hear that Izuku didn’t seem to want to be near him.

His alpha brain roared to life, demanded he stay right at the omega’s side, to convince him that he was the best alpha out there. But if Izuku didn’t want him, he couldn’t do that to him. He couldn’t hurt him, even if he meant well.

As painful as it was, he let his touch fall from Izuku’s shoulder, loosened his fingers from around his hand. Snapping around quickly, Izuku grabbed onto his hand, held him tightly, moved closer when Katsuki tried to pull away. He stopped, stilled, unsure of what to do as the omega let out another sob, as he pressed one hand to his eyes while keeping hold of the alpha.

“Why can’t be I as strong as I want to be? Why couldn’t I protect Kazue? Why am I not enough?”

For every knife that his previous words had jammed into his body, these brought a new kind of pain, a shared pain, as if Katsuki were under the influence of Mai’s Quirk and he was feeling the sinking, drowning dread of the omega. It wasn’t the air that was suffocating. It was the terrible feeling of hearing those words, of realizing what was happening, of seeing exactly what was going through the omega’s head.

With renewed conviction, Katsuki grabbed his hands, both of them, held them in front of the omega, Izuku startled by his reaction, leaning away slightly, but quieting slightly, holding his breath. Katsuki didn’t know what he would look like to the omega. Insane maybe. He felt a bit insane. He was angry, though there was not one thing he was particularly angry at. Perhaps it was just the world, the universe, that had earned his ire once again.

Either way, he held Izuku’s hands, looked him right in the eye, didn’t let him look away, if only through the force of his gaze. “Listen to me, Izuku Midoriya,” he growled, low and dangerous, and Izuku swallowed, shrunk away slightly, “you are more than enough. Don’t ever tell yourself you aren’t. You’re the strongest, best, damnedest omega I’ve ever met. Hell, you’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

“What the hell does that matter?” Izuku tore his hands away, tried to turn away, but Katsuki grabbed his shoulder, pulled him back around, even when the omega hissed.

“Where is this coming from? How the hell could you possibly think you’re not enough for anything?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Katsuki!” A rush of anger had Izuku snapping at Katsuki, through he refused to back down, even as the omega bore his teeth. “Maybe it’s because you left me! You left me to raise a pup on my own! I had to fight for everything! And even then, I had to have someone practically give me a place to live and I had to have help from Sano, who’s in a wheelchair and has problems of her own, just to survive! Maybe it’s because my pup was hurt and could have been killed and I couldn’t do anything to stop it! Maybe it’s because I’ve obviously never been enough, for whatever reason!”

“Stop,” Katsuki growled. “Just stop.”

“Why? Can’t stand realizing I’m not the person you thought I was?”

“Stop,” he said again, making an effort to keep the growl out of his voice. “I can’t listen to you lie to yourself.”

Izuku scoffed, shook his head. “Nobody is lying to anyone. Just look at this! Can’t even figure things out for myself now. I had to come crawling to you for help.”

“Okay, I take offense to that,” Katsuki snapped, earning a sharp glare from Izuku. “You didn’t crawl to anyone, Izuku. I offered help because I didn’t want you to do this alone. You’ve been through hell. It’s okay to ask for help. You don’t have to do this on your own. It’d be crazy of you to try. And that sure as hell doesn’t make you any less of a person.”

The omega glared hard at him. “Why should I believe anything you say now?”

Katsuki snapped his jaw, glared at the omega. All of this had taken him completely off guard. He didn’t really know what to do and he wasn’t particularly happy with being so unprepared. Because yeah, he knew Izuku was hurt. He knew he’d been a part of that hurt, but there had been other hurts as well, things he was still healing from, things he had scars from. Seeing the hurt so close, seeing it boil over and begin to bleed, it was more than a little uncomfortable, not in any small part because he knew he was a source of that pain. That the omega looked at him and had decided he couldn’t trust him because of what he’d done before. That it was possible that would never change.

There were no words he could think to say to fix this. Nothing that would make the omega feel better. Not in this moment.

But there was something he thought of. Something that might work.

Abruptly, he stood, Izuku startled by his suddenly movement. The alpha grabbed his hand, pulled him to his feet. “Come over here,” he said, guiding him toward the living room. Izuku didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pull away.

Katsuki stood him in the middle of the living room, immediately set about shoving the coffee table and one of the chairs aside. Izuku watched, clearly growing more and more confused, until, that is, Katsuki carefully pulled out his phone, set it to play music, something soft, something slow. Then, the omega’s face went blank, guarded all over again.

“Katsuki, I don’t want to—” he paused as Katsuki held out his hand, bowed his head.

“Just humor me for a moment.”

A twitch pulled at Izuku’s lip. For a moment, Katsuki thought he was going to refuse. At perhaps the last moment, he sighed, stepped forward, raised his hand. Katsuki met him halfway, trailed a finger up his hand, down his palm, to his wrist.

The omega didn’t look too pleased, but he allowed himself to be pulled closer to the alpha. “Just one,” he growled.

“Deal.”

Katsuki took his hand, set it on his shoulder. Izuku’s fingers were still a little shaky, a little sweaty, but they curled toward his neck, felt warm and sure, settled into place as if they belonged. Then, the alpha placed his own hand on the omega’s hip, drew him a little closer. Readjusted his grip on their outheld hand, intertwined their fingers, then took the first step.

At first, as they swayed to the music, slow, uneven, certainly not in time with anything, Izuku staring over the alpha’s shoulder. But time went on. Somehow, they stepped a little closer to each other. Somehow, Izuku’s eyes trailed to his, away, then back and away again. Slowly, one song faded away, and they kept swaying, stepping slowly to music that was only theirs. Slowly, the omega leaned forward, pressed his forehead to Katsuki’s chest, let out a sob, then another. And somehow, Katsuki knew to just keep swaying, to keep dancing, to be there, nothing else.

And eventually, the tears faded away. Eventually, Izuku’s hand trailed down to wrap around his back, the omega leaned toward the alpha’s scent gland, Katsuki with both hands on his hips. And still, their music played, their own rhythm padded out on the living room floor.

And after their music had faded slightly, after their dancing had slowed, after Izuku had stopped crying and he held Katsuki’s gaze a little easier, the alpha reached a hand to his face, trailed it over his cheek, felt a little spark in his chest when the omega leaned into the touch.

“How you feeling now?” He asked.

Izuku hummed quietly. “Shitty.”

“Yeah well, get in line.”

To his surprise, the omega actually laughed. He shook his head. “Guess I ruined our date.”

“Nope,” Katsuki rubbed at the lines of salt on the omega’s face, cleaned them away. “Nothing could ruin getting to spend some time with you.”

“Since when did you get so sappy?”

“What? You don’t like it?”

Izuku shrugged. “It’s just… weird.”

Katsuki growled, returned his hand to the omega’s hip, found that he was the one looking away now. “Just don’t want to mess this up.”

They stopped moving. It was a weird feeling. Katsuki knew they were no longer moving, but he swore he still felt a slight sway to the world around them, as if it held onto their music, kept them in that moment even as they tried to step away from it. He didn’t move away from the omega, nor did Izuku step back. Instead, he stared up at the alpha, studied him, searched for something.

“You… you really mean that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, ‘course I do. Don’t know how the hell to convince you anymore.”

The omega nodded, looked him up and down. Stepped away, but kept his gaze, kept a hand on his chest. The lingering touch felt warm, soft, so right. Both Katsuki and Izuku stared down at his hand, fingers spread over the alpha’s chest, right over his heart. Then, Izuku drew away, and their eyes met.

“You’re starting to.”

The world kept swaying. As if those words didn’t mean as much as they did. As if they shouldn’t have stopped the world by their utterance. The world kept dancing, and Katsuki was amazed at how that could happen. Even his own heart felt a little fluttering, as if it were going to stop.

But then, the omega turned away. “Thanks for dinner. It was… good, I guess.” Then, his nose wrinkled. “Actually dinner kind of sucked. But the dancing was nice.”

Izuku started back toward the table and Katsuki followed, growling lowly. “Well, guess I’ll take what I can.” He paused as Izuku went to take a sip of his drink. “Izuku, do you really want to do this?”

The omega blinked. “Do what?”

“This,” Katsuki gestured to the table, to the half-eaten food. “If it’s too soon, too fast, too much, we don’t have to do this.”

Realization dawned in Izuku’s eyes. He glared down at the table, ran his thumb along the side of his mug. Then, he nodded. “No, it’s fine. You want to make that uphill battle, be my guest. But you know I won’t make it easy for you.”

There was something of a challenge in his voice. Something that made Katsuki’s stomach flutter, his blood burn, every part of him shiver in anticipation. He smirked, was met with a bit of a smile from the omega. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Izuku nodded once, sharp, but with a smile. “I… can’t promise it’ll be easy for me to let you in. It’s… hard. Remembering what happened. Knowing what you did before.”

“That was a different person.” Katsuki began stacking the dishes on the table, caught a raised eyebrow from Izuku. “I’m different. Probably noticed by now. I’ll introduce you to the new and improved me.”

For as wide as his smirk was, he was met with an equally unimpressed look from the omega, who gave a wry sip of his tea. “Uh huh. You know, you haven’t changed completely. There’s still some of the old you in there.”

“Good,” Katsuki leaned a little closer, felt a bit of excitement in his limbs when the omega didn’t lean away, when he stood up to the challenge. “Remember all the things about me that you loved and that annoyed you. You let me know what parts of those are still around. I’ll let you know what’s the same about you and here’s the first thing.” He leaned away, let his smirk fade, faced the omega as seriously as he could with dishes stacked in his arms. Luckily, he didn’t think Izuku was paying much attention to them.

“You’re still the strongest omega I know. You still give me a run for my money. And I’m sure as hell happy to see that.”

Incredulousness clearly flickered through the omega’s eyes, but he shrugged. “You’re still arrogant as hell. Don’t think that will ever change.”

“Nope.” He stepped toward the kitchen. “Be ready. I’ll have your second gift soon.”

“Lunch in the park?” Izuku joked.

“Trust that it’s going to be more of a traditional courting gift. Though lunch isn’t off the table.” Izuku followed him, chuckled, moved with a surety that had Katsuki relaxing, had him allowing a smile.

- - -

After washing up, they sat and they talked, but it quickly became clear that both of them were absolutely exhausted, Katsuki from his long day and Izuku from his emotional outburst. The alpha escorted him back up the stairs, to Uraraka’s room, the omega dozing with the pups curled up in her bed. She woke quickly, smiled, didn’t ask about their evening.

Instead, she simply told them good night, let Izuku approach her bed and pick a sleeping Kazue from the pile the three pups had snuggled into, Katsuki lingering in the doorway. Kazue whined quietly as Izuku brought him away, though he settled quickly as the scent of his omega washed over him. Izuku paused to let Katsuki say good night to the pup, lingered another moment longer to gaze briefly at him.

“Thanks for tonight. Good night.”

Katsuki nodded. “No problem. Sleep well.”

The omega didn’t move. Katsuki waited, unsure what to do, but eventually, he nodded, turned away. He watched until Izuku slipped into his room, then he trudged back to his own room, stripped off all of his clothes, and threw himself into bed. He hadn’t quite made the bed before he was fast asleep.

Chapter Text

Three days later, Katsuki found Izuku sitting with Uraraka, Yaoyorozu, and Tsu in the gardens. Kazue was playing in the flower bed nearby, probably searching for worms, which he’d grown a fascination with ever since Tsu had shown him one earlier in the week. He was already completely filthy, covered in dirt and grime, as any normal pup should be. It was perhaps the most normal Katsuki had seen him, a bittersweet feeling blooming in his chest at the thought. That it had taken this long for Kazue to just play so thoughtlessly and happily made his skin feel uneven, as if there was something crawling along it. As much as he wanted to be angry, he let himself just enjoy the sight of his pup playing instead.

Izuku turned as Katsuki approached, the first to see him, noticing immediately the present he carried. There was a clear question in his eyes, Katsuki simply handing the package to him in response.

“This is for you.”

Izuku considered him carefully, took the gift. “Have to admit, it’s a bit bigger than your first one.”

With a huff, Katsuki collapsed into the chair beside him, leaning into the seat. His back was aching in a way he didn’t particularly like, a consequence of the added patrols he’d taken on to help track down Yokoyama. He hoped that pink-haired freak would get his upgraded costume to him soon.

Giving no voice to that thought, Katsuki shrugged, “Told you it’d be more like what you’d normally expect.”

Izuku hummed thoughtfully, glanced nervously up at the others, set the box aside. A little bit of hurt, maybe even of anger, made Katsuki’s hand twitch, though that settled when Izuku instead reached for his arm, pulling it up to examine the gauntlet currently attached to his wrist.

“What’s this?” The omega turned his hand over, trying to see all the different angles of his gear.

“It collects my sweat, stores it in that pod there. Need a good sample to send to the lab to get the results back on its composition.”

“Oh!” Izuku ran his hand over the single container attached to the gauntlet, then into the empty slots beside it. “You were being serious about that the other day?”

“You weren’t?”

“No, I was,” he let the alpha’s arm go, glaring at him, a strange light to his eyes. Katsuki wasn’t exactly what that light meant, until the omega smiled brightly. “It’ll be good to do some real work, but I don’t really know how I’m going to help you much. Not like I have a workshop or a lab or anything.”

“Don’t worry about that. We can arrange something.” He had to admit, it was nice to see the omega looking so happy at the thought. “Anyway, what were you four talking about anyway?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Yaoyorozu waved her hand. “Just discussing potentially doing some shopping later.”

“Yeah, we were trying to convince Midoriya to come with us,” Tsu was watching Kazue, but she glanced over as she spoke. “He’s being stubborn.”

“It’s not stubbornness,” Izuku wrinkled his nose, crossed his arms.

“You even admitted that Kazue needs some new clothes and shoes!” Uraraka interjected. “C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, I know he does, I’m working on it.” A little defensiveness had crept into the omega’s tone, a clear line drawn in the sand.

Katsuki glared at him, somehow knowing exactly what was going on in his mind. Given everything, he certainly wasn’t afraid to cross right over that line. He reached into his pocket, drew out his wallet, and pulled out a card. “Here,” he handed it to Izuku, “Kazue needs something, I’ll pitch in. Get him anything he needs.”

Izuku did not move. Katsuki knew he wasn’t going to either, not without some prompting, so he wiggled the card under his nose, smirked deeply. “You said it was for Kazue, didn’t you? You can’t deny me wanting to help my pup now can you?”

The omega focused in on him, glared, but eventually snatched the card away. “Fine. But just this once.”

It was a small victory maybe, but Katsuki still leaned back, feeling quite satisfied with himself.

Uraraka made a little noise of joy, pumped her arms into the air. “Oh yes! Shopping time!”

Tsu ribbited happily and Yaoyorozu giggled. “If I’m being honest, I think we could all use a shopping trip.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki growled. “Just make sure you stay close to Izuku.”

“Aww, it’ll be fine, Bakugo. We’ll all be right there!” Uraraka still looked excited, missed the worried look that crossed Izuku’s face. Katsuki reached across to the omega, ran his fingers soothingly over his hand, felt the omega relax under his touch. This time, the other omega definitely noticed, smiling at the two. “You seem happy.”

Katsuki snapped his jaw. “You lose Izuku and I’ll kill you dead.”

“Seems counterproductive,” Tsu deadpanned, earning a growl from the alpha.

Yaoyorozu cleared her throat to cut the tension. “Anyway, we want to go look for new things for the pups, maybe look for some new things for ourselves. Anything else we want to do?”

“Well,” Uraraka leaned back, “I could actually use a trip to a nesting store. Need to stock up on a couple things, especially if Shinso is going to be coming by for his heat soon.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Yaoyorozu smiled at Izuku. “We can pick up anything you might need to help make your nest feel a bit more comfortable here.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Izuku said, but Uraraka immediately shook her head.

“Nope. You’re not getting out of this one. You haven’t mentioned needing anything for your nest and you’ve been here for like two weeks. There’s got to be something you’re missing.”

“Well, I, uh…,” Izuku paused as Kazue gave a delighted shriek, plucking a worm high into the air.

“Mommy, look! It’s squirmy!”

The omega looked a little resigned. “Kazue, please put that back.”

“But it’s so cool, Mommy!”

Izuku sighed deeply, paused when Tsu said, “You were saying?”

The omega laughed nervously, prompting Katsuki to look up for the first time. He’d been enjoying the sun on his face, just listening to the conversation happen around him, but the sudden awkwardness of the omega beside him drew his attention, looking for anything that might be bothering him, though there was nothing obvious.

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, shook his head, said, “Well, actually, I don’t have a nest.”

Everyone stared at him. Even Katsuki wasn’t really sure what to say.

The silence obviously made Izuku uncomfortable, the omega eventually clearing his throat and saying, “I, uh, don’t usually have a permanent nest. Typically just build one for my heats. Otherwise, it’s not really a thing I’ve ever had.”

“Really?” Uraraka collapsed backward into her seat. “I couldn’t imagine living without a nest to hide in. Every now and then I just need the space away from everyone, especially Iida.”

“It’s, uh, not really a male omega thing,” Izuku explained carefully.

“Oh, I see,” Tsu pressed a finger thoughtfully to her cheek. “Let me guess. You did have one when you were pregnant?”

“Yeah, I did,” Izuku glanced to Kazue, Katsuki following his gaze to see the pup poking at the dirt. “And even for a while after he was born. But after that, I just didn’t feel the need to maintain it.”

Uraraka tilted her head thoughtfully. “Huh, how weird. Never realized just how different male omegas are.”

“Well, this is the first time we’re living with a male omega. It’s only natural that we’re all learning new things. I personally find it perfectly fine,” Yaoyorozu said simply, Izuku smiling gratefully at her.

“Oh! Yeah, of course!” Uraraka held up her hands. “Never meant to make you feel like you were wrong or anything. It’s just new!”

“I don’t maintain a big nest either, Midoriya,” Tsu said plainly. “You and I can go do something else while Uraraka shops.”

Izuku had been smiling between the three, relaxing back in his seat, though he tensed slightly when Tsu addressed him, gave another nervous laugh. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind browsing a little. Been a while since I’ve picked anything up.”

“Get anything you need,” Katsuki growled without moving. “Don’t feel like you have to ask first. You need something, just get it and let me know later.”

“Katsuki, you don’t have to—”

“Just think of it as another courting gift if you really want to.”

Izuku sucked at his cheeks, but sat back, played with his fingers, thinking.

Eventually, the conversation moved on, the four trying to line their schedules up, figuring out who would watch the pups while they were gone, thinking of anyone else they wanted to ask to join them. As they did, Katsuki stared up at the sky, thought hard on what Izuku had said.

He hadn’t known about male omegas not typically having nests. Something else that he’d had no idea about, had to be told by Izuku himself, despite having known him for so long. Just what else did he not know about male omegas? What else was he missing? What else could there be that could affect how their courting went or any of their other interactions? He didn’t want to pick Izuku’s brain for those answers. The omega had clearly been uncomfortable trying to explain it to the others, even if they had more or less accepted his explanation. So he needed another option. Someone else who would know the difference between male and female omega behaviors and habits.

A sudden idea had Katsuki pulling out his phone, opening a new conversation with Kaminari and Shinso.

We need to talk.

Both the beta and omega were on patrol, so he wasn’t expecting to hear back from them. But if anyone could answer his questions, it would be those two. Whether Shinso would be willing to talk to him was another issue, but if nothing else, he could get Kaminari to squeal about it. It would be better coming from the omega himself, but Katsuki knew he’d have to take what he could get.

Plus, there was one other male omega he knew. One that just so happened to be planning a visit soon. Though the thought of sitting down and talking to him and his mate about this subject made his toes curl. Still, if things didn’t work with Shinso and Kaminari, it was an option he had. Something he’d have to consider to make sure he got what he needed to know.

He put his phone away, caught a curious look from Izuku. Instead of saying anything, Katsuki checked his gauntlet, saw the container was nearly full. Still needed a few minutes. So he laid back, closed his eyes, let the conversation continue. Instead, he organized his thoughts, trying to think of exactly what he wanted to know, what he needed to ask. Whether he got to talk to Shinso or someone else, he wouldn’t have a lot of time to get the information he needed and whether he liked it or not, he’d have to be somewhat tactful about how he asked his questions.

Even as distracted as he was, he didn’t miss when his pack members rose, saying their goodbyes to Izuku and Kazue. He wondered where they were going, realized they probably had patrol soon, simply closed his eyes again, until he felt Izuku shift toward him, then he met the omega’s curious look.

“Do you have patrol today?”

Katuski shook his head. “Nah. Day off today, but I’ll have a bit of a weird schedule over the next few days. I can give you my full schedule if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I was just curious.”

The alpha growled lowly. “I’ll give it to you.” Izuku didn’t say anything else, so Katsuki checked his gauntlet again, saw it still wasn’t quite full.

When he looked back up, Izuku met his gaze, reached beside him for the courting gift. “Okay if I open this now?”

“Your gift. You can open it whenever you want. Could have opened it in front of those extras.”

At that, the omega snorted shortly. “This is a bit personal to just be opening in front of a bunch of people, don’t you think?”

“Not like they don’t know we’re courting now. Kirishima and Mina exchange gifts all the time, no matter who’s around to see it.”

“All right, but still.”

Katsuki sat up in his chair, nodded to the package. “Just open it.”

Izuku ducked his head slightly. “R-right.” He pulled carefully at the paper, summoning Kazue immediately to his side, as if the pup was drawn to the sound of a potential gift. He watched, transfixed, as Izuku pulled the paper off, revealed a simple white box, which he opened, and paused when he saw what was within it.

Kazue, however, made a gasping noise. “Mommy, that’s so cool! Is that for you?”

Izuku didn’t say anything at first, running his hand over the new jacket folded neatly in the box. Katsuki watched him carefully, judging his reaction, though the omega seemed more shocked than anything else.

“Saw your old jacket was getting ragged. Thought it was time for an upgrade.”

Whether Izuku heard him or not, Katsuki didn’t really know, the omega focused on carefully pulling the jacket out so he could really look at it. It was detailed into All Might’s silver age costume, one of Izuku’s favorites, he knew. Or at least, it had been one of his favorites when they’d been kids. He hoped that was still the case.

At first, he wasn’t sure if the omega liked the jacket, but as Kazue ran his hands over it, standing up on his toes to try to see it a little more clearly, the omega pressed the jacket to his nose, breathed in deeply. He pulled away, his face unreadable, set the jacket back into the box.

“It’s wonderful. Thank you, Katsuki.”

Immediately, Katsuki’s alpha brain snapped to life, growling contently that his second gift had been received so well. After their half-disastrous dinner, he’d felt a bit off, a bit like his ego had been kicked in the teeth, but this was a nice renewal of his spirit, even if he didn’t particularly like acknowledging that part of himself.

At least a jacket was a lot less complicated than an entire dinner. And it made Izuku happy. That was still all that mattered.

Katsuki laid back, tilted his head up, closed his eyes. “Glad you like it. Get used to it. Told you I’d spoil you rotten.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Even with his eyes closed, Katsuki could hear the omega smiling dryly at him.

“Don’t have to, but want to. So get used to it.”

Izuku laughed, the box rustling as he set the jacket more securely back inside. “Well thank you anyway.”

“How come I don’t get anything!” Likewise, Katsuki could hear the pout in Kazue’s voice.

“Your mom’s the omega here. He gets the gifts,” Katsuki said simply.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Kazue stomped his foot, earning a sharp look from Katsuki. Undeterred, the pup crossed his arms, glaring at the alpha. “How come Mommy gets to eat in bed and gets a present?”

Katsuki glanced to Izuku, who was watching him expectantly, wanting an answer himself. This one, at least, was easy to explain. “Izuku’s an omega. That means he’s pretty special. It’s my job as an alpha to make sure he’s happy and safe. That means he gets to eat in bed when he wants and he gets some gifts sometimes.”

Kazue snorted. “You didn’t do that before.”

Katsuki almost flinched, managed just to clench his hand. “Yeah. I know. But I’m trying to fix that now.”

“You didn’t give Ura-ka and Tsu gifts! They’re omegas too!”

The alpha blinked at the pup, both a bit lost for an explanation but also feeling a bit of heat rising in his face when he heard Izuku chuckle under his breath beside him.

The omega brushed his hand along the pup’s head, pulling his attention away from Katsuki. “Alphas only choose one omega to give gifts like that. And it doesn’t have to be an omega. Sometimes alphas choose betas or even other alphas. Do you understand, firecracker?”

Kazue wrinkled his nose slightly, rocked back and forth on his heels as if thinking. When he settled, he asked, “What if I’m an omega? Do I get to eat in bed?”

“No. You’re still a pup.”

Kazue puff his cheeks out. “That’s not fair!”

“All right,” Izuku went to pick Kazue up, but paused when Katsuki made a short grunt, a reprimand for nearly breaking his weight limit. The omega glared at him, but pulled away from the pup, who crawled up into his lap anyway.

“Mommy, am I an omega?”

“Hmm,” Izuku ran a finger over the pup’s nose, Kazue giggling. “I don’t think that matters. Whatever you present as, you’ll still be Kazue.”

“Yeah, but if I’m an omega I get to eat in bed!”

“Not until you’re older.”

The pup groaned, flopped over in the omega’s lap. “Mommy!”

Izuku laughed, stroked the pup’s nose again, then tickled his stomach, the pup doubling over and laughing. With pup and omega content with themselves, Katsuki sat back, checked his gauntlet one more time. This time, he saw that the container was full.

With a short growl, he rose. “I’ll be right back,” he said, turning toward the house, only half listening as Kazue and Izuku continued playing behind him.

He was still trying to organize his thoughts somewhat around the question of what being a male omega meant, categorizing the things he needed to know right now versus anything else he might need to know later. He was also trying to think back to their childhood, trying to pick out those things that seemed off from what he’d come to know about omega behavior from living with Uraraka, Jiro, and Tsu. Tsu was a bit weird as an omega, having a hormone deficiency that meant her behavior was already pretty atypical, but even against her, there were a few things he could pick out that were different that Izuku had done and the others didn’t.

And he was still basking in the thought that Izuku had accepted his second gift so readily. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it felt really good to know the omega was still happy to continue their courting. One step at a time, for however long it took. He was okay with that, as long as they were moving forward.

All his thinking meant he was somewhat distracted as he pulled the container of his sweat from his gauntlet, packed it away to be sent to the lab the agency often used. This was admittedly the first time they had requested something like this from them, but they’d been consistent in their work so far, so Katsuki felt fairly confident in getting the results back quickly and accurately. All that left was to do was talk to that pink-haired freak about Izuku potentially using her workshop. With the omega out of school and work, the alpha had finally decided it would be a good idea for him to introduce the two after all, if only to give him an outlet. Hopefully they’d hit it off and everything would be fine. And if they didn’t, Katsuki would be right there to make sure Izuku didn’t become too overwhelmed by the pink-haired engineer.

Once everything was packed away, he took up the case, intending to put it out at the door to be taken to the lab in the morning, made his way back down the hall.

He’d only made it a few steps when he heard a sudden shriek.

Even if the voice was muffled, between walls and over a distance, Katsuki knew that scream. He knew the voice, knew the panic and terror in it. The sound of it made him drop the case, forgetting about the potential explosive risk within it. Felt his body filling up with something hot and furious and terrified.

Kazue.

He didn’t have time to go all the way back down the stairs. Instead, he raced toward the balcony, hardly paused long enough to get the door open, before he focused in on the garden, on the firepit, on the place he’d last left the pup and his omega.

He found them immediately, not having moved from their seat by the empty firepit. Both were staring at something beyond the garden, Kazue clutching his omega tightly, shivering slightly. Izuku was as still as stone, frozen, and from such a distance, Katsuki could have been convinced he was just a statue for how unmoving he seemed.

The hell is going on? Katsuki followed the omega’s gaze, stared into the bushes just at the packhouse property line, just within the fences that surrounded the estate.

Saw a cruel smile.

Jagged teeth.

A sight that haunted him.

A man that smiled and silently laughed at omega and pup, only a few feet away.

At first, Katsuki couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But the more he stared, the more he realized that yes, that was exactly what he thought it was.

Yokoyama was at the packhouse.

He was right in front of him.

He was there, and he was reaching for Izuku and Kazue.

There had been times that Katsuki’s vision had gone red, when his alpha brain had taken over and steered him onward. Never before had his vision tunneled, never before had he embraced the roaring, raging part of him, the part that had him storming onto the balcony railing, had him howling in fury. He cocked his hands back, and launched forward.

From one second to the next, Katsuki had torn across the garden, landing with a spectacular fireball. Just over the sounds of his explosion, he heard Kazue screaming again, along with a snarl, a sound that had his nostrils flaring. Immediately, he was overwhelmed with the most horrible, sickly smell he’d ever had the displeasure of tasting.

Yokoyama, as he had before, smelled of rot and decay and unhinged lust. He smelled of primal things, of dominance and fury, of something that had Katsuki’s mouth and nose burning.

When the light and sound faded, Katsuki faced Yokoyama, saw a burn rippling up the other alpha’s arm, saw the line of teeth had turned into a snarl.

Yokoyama growled and Katsuki returned it, his jaw hanging loose, snarling as he’d never done before.

Behind him, Kazue was crying now.

The sound of his pup in such distress had Katsuki’s snarl fading, had his teeth clenching, his mouth turning up in a smile that could be called anything but.

“I’m going to kill you,” he told Yokoyama, and thrust his hands forward. “DIE!”

His second blast nearly rocked him off his feet, Katsuki having to dig his heels in to keep from blowing back. Kazue screamed at the force of the explosion and Katsuki became very aware very suddenly that Izuku was deathly silent. But he didn’t have time to check on the omega. He had to make sure the other alpha was dead first.

A twinge of pain along his back had Katsuki hunching slightly as the fire died away, as the result of his explosion came into view. The entire side of the fencing had been demolished, a mangled wreck of heated iron. The bushes were gone. The grass still smoking. In his wake, everything had been destroyed.

And Yokoyama was gone.

For a moment, Katsuki didn’t know what he was looking at. The gardens, destroyed, the fence, obliterated. But no trace of the alpha. Even though that couldn’t be right.

He’d been there, hadn’t he? Katsuki had seen him. Izuku and Kazue had seen him. And yes. He could still smell the other alpha’s scent on the air, could remember seeing the burns he’d put on that bastard with his explosion.

It had been real. Yokoyama had been there. Right outside their garden. And now, in the smoking ruin of the bushes, there was nothing left. The alpha had disappeared right from under him.

He’d let the alpha get away.

A scream widened his vision, had him snapping up, stopping his useless growling to spin toward the garden. Scorch marks lined the side of the house from where Katsuki had thrown himself forward off the balcony, some of Tsu’s flowerbeds burned away. In the wreckage, Izuku had collapsed out of his chair, his hands pressed to either side of his face, gasping for breath, eyes distant and unseeing. Kazue was pulling at the omega, crying and screaming for his mom. Beyond them, shouting rose up from the house as the pack came to investigate what was going on.

Kazue’s screaming and Izuku’s desperate gasping made all ten of Katsuki’s fingers prickle, had smoke rising from both his palms. One glance around and he knew, Yokoyama was gone.

Somehow, he’d gotten away.

Somehow, he’d found Izuku and Kazue at the packhouse.

Somehow, he seemed to know right where to go.

What would have happened if Katsuki hadn’t been around? What would have happened if Yokoyama had gotten to the omega or pup?

I left them alone. The thought chilled all of the fire in Katsuki’s blood. With his other pack members gone to get ready for patrol, they had been completely alone. Kazue had been playing in the flowerbeds not too far from where the alpha had been standing. He’d been so close.

So close…

“Bakugo!”

A voice cut through the fog of fear and frustration and fury. Suddenly, heralded by a rush of wind, Iida was standing beside him, nostrils flared as he picked up on the scent of the invading alpha.

He shared a look with Katsuki. “Is this…?”

Katsuki growled. “That bastard alpha. He was here.”

“Were you able to wound him?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Got at least one good hit on him. He got away, but I don’t know how.”

Iida glared forward, seemed to think, but both he and Katsuki turned quickly when there was a screech from over their shoulders. Most of the pack had tried to surround Izuku, to protect him, to make him feel safe, but the omega’s eyes had blown wide in his fear and he had grabbed onto Kazue, holding the pup tightly against his chest and hissing at anyone who dared come close. When Yaoyorozu tried to say something, the omega shrieked, hissed, shook horribly.

Katsuki knew that look very well. It was very near what Izuku had been like when he’d gone feral in the hospital. He was teetering on the edge of that again, about to fall over the edge. If he did, Katsuki didn’t think they would be as lucky as to only come away with a few stitches this time.

“Deku!” He raced toward the omega, hoping the old pet name would jolt him into awareness.

If nothing else, the omega jerked upright, spotted Katsuki, his eyes turning to slits. He shuddered deeply, tried to rise to his feet, unsteady and unsure. His snarl fell away, his hissing replaced with a sob.

“Kacchan?” He called as Katsuki reached him.

“It’s all right,” the alpha wasn’t exactly sure what to do, what Izuku would allow, but he opened his arms when the omega hurried to meet him, happily pulled him and Kazue tightly to his chest when Izuku accepted his embrace. When the omega sobbed again, then began crying, Katsuki tightened his arms around the two, lowered his chin to rest at Izuku’s scent gland, crooned lowly in his ear. It felt a little strange, crooning to the omega in that moment. But he did it without thinking, without knowing what it would do. He just hoped if nothing else Izuku knew he was safe here, with him. That he wouldn’t let anyone hurt him, no matter what.

Movement had him snapping to attention, baring his teeth threateningly, though he paused when he saw it was Kirishima. The beta waited until he stopped growling, then cautiously approached. He reached for the crying omega, but Katsuki bore his teeth, unwilling to let anyone else close until Izuku calmed down.

Still, the beta smiled. “It’s all right. We’ve got things handled. He’s long gone and he can’t hurt you here.”

Izuku buried his face into Katsuki’s chest, rubbed against his pup, seeking any form of comfort he could find. “Why?” He shivered as Katsuki rubbed his back, tried to soothe him in any way he could think to try. “Why did he come back? Why me?”

They were questions that couldn’t possibly be answered. Not in that moment anyway. Nor were they the questions Katsuki was most interested in. Instead, the ones he’d heard run through his mind were on repeat, growing increasingly demanding of answers as he stood there, holding his pup and the omega.

How had Yokoyama known where to find them?

How had he gotten so close without anyone noticing?

How had this happened?

Katsuki thought about scenting the two, perhaps to try to help calm them, perhaps to help calm himself, but refrained. Instead, he pressed his lips to Izuku’s forehead, whispered to him, “It’s all right. I’m here. I won’t let that bastard hurt you again.”

Izuku shivered, didn’t otherwise react.

Another alpha scent approaching had Katsuki raising his head, even though he knew it was only Iida. The pack alpha kept a respectable distance, but he still dared to approach even as Katsuki’s lip flinched toward a snarl. Seemingly not having noticed or cared, the pack alpha’s eyes swept through the crowd, seemed to tally them up in his head, nodded once.

“Bakugo, you should take Midoriya and Kazue inside. Uraraka, Kirishima, why don’t you go with him and make sure they’re okay. The rest of you, we need to sweep our perimeter. Kaminari, contact Tsukauchi and let him know what’s happened. He’ll want to come investigate for himself.”

“Right!” When given orders, the pack knew what to do. Even Katsuki, who didn’t typically like to listen to any orders given to him, by Iida or anyone else, nodded, acquiesced to his pack alpha’s demands.

“C’mon,” he whispered to Izuku, “let’s go inside. Can you walk?”

Izuku sighed, kept his face buried in the alpha’s chest. After a moment, he glanced up, eyes still watery, though clearer now, pupils no longer dilated as much as they had been.

“Of course I can walk,” the omega seemed to want to growl, but the words came out as a bit of a whimper instead. Katsuki didn’t comment on it, simply kept an arm around him, guided him back into the packhouse with Uraraka at his heels and Kirishima hurrying ahead.

The beta opened the door and swept the inside quickly before holding the door for Katsuki, Izuku, and Kazue. The pup was very quiet, but when Katsuki looked down at him, his eyes were very wide, his nails dug into his omega’s shirt. A miserable look had overtaken Izuku, something tired and agonized, something so very scared and unsure what to do about it.

He rubbed small circles in Izuku’s arm, guided him toward the staircase. “C’mon. Let’s go to your room.”

“No,” Izuku shuddered, stopped in his tracks when Katsuki tried to pull him forward.

Realizing he wasn’t going to be able to make the omega do anything he didn’t want to, Katsuki tried, “All right, where do you want to go?”

For a moment, the omega didn’t seem to really know, but then, as if in a daze, he muttered, “Your pack room.”

Katsuki blinked, unsure that he’d heard the omega correctly. It wasn’t until he caught the surprised looks on both Uraraka’s and Kirishima’s face that he realized he had. With Izuku so distressed, it wasn’t worth asking him why, though Katsuki thought he had an idea. Even if Izuku wasn’t part of the pack, the pack room smelled strongly of the entire pack, of people who had come to mean safety for the omega. It only made sense that in that moment, when he was feeling most vulnerable, he’d want to be in the one place that smelled the safest to him.

So he nodded, said, “All right. C’mon.”

Kirishima again went up the stairs first, casting a cautious look around before opening the door to the pack room for them. Izuku stumbled on the last step, Katsuki holding him up and Uraraka hurrying to support him. He didn’t even seem to notice them.

“Come on in,” Kirishima gestured them inside, offered a smile when Izuku glanced at him. “Best room in the house if you ask me!”

The omega didn’t return the beta’s smile, but he also didn’t react negatively to him, accepting his presence as Katsuki and Uraraka led him into the room. Once inside, Katsuki cautiously reached for Kazue.

“Let me take him so you can sit down.” When the omega didn’t react, Katsuki pressed, “It’s bad for your arm to hold him. Here. Just sit down.”

At first, Izuku moved Kazue a little away from Katsuki’s hands, though when the pup reached for the alpha, he relented, carefully hanging him over. Kazue immediately crawled up to huddle onto his scent gland, rubbing his cheek again him, trying to douse himself in the alpha’s smell. Katsuki kept the pup pressed to his neck while also keeping an arm on Izuku as Uraraka helped the omega sink into a cushion. Once he was somewhat settled, Katsuki tried to hand Kazue over to him, but the pup kept his grip on the alpha’s shirt.

“Let go, Kaz.”

The pup whined deeply. “Kacchan.”

“It’s all right,” Katsuki gently put the pup into Izuku’s arms, but he still wouldn’t let go, even as he curled against the omega’s chest. “Let me go. Stay with your omega.”

“No.”

“Kazue—”

“No!” Kazue whined, tugged at Katsuki’s shirt. “Stay!”

“I have to go talk with the police.”

The pup bore his teeth and growled lowly. It was such a noise that Katsuki paused, unsure of how to react, immediately knowing that he not only had been chastised but also challenged by his pup. His alpha brain was almost too much in shock to want to growl back, though any thought of that was quickly abandoned when Kazue’s growling turned to sniffling.

The pup clawed for Katsuki’s neck, trying to drag him closer, muttered, “Alpha stay. You’re supposed to keep us safe. You promised!”

There were a couple of things that kept Katsuki from rising, from moving at all. First was the pup’s acknowledgement of him being the alpha. It was the first time Kazue had called him alpha, the first time he’d said the word without shivering in fear or contempt. Then there was Katsuki’s promise. He had said he would protect the pup and omega no matter what. He’d told Kazue that weeks earlier. That the pup remembered and that he was thinking of that now, after having to face the alpha that had hurt him and his omega, was more than a little painful, a hand running over raw skin. How could he say no?

As torn as he was, he still bristled somewhat when Uraraka placed a hand on his shoulder. She offered him a smile despite his lip lifting in a growl. “Stay with them. We’ll handle everything. They need you, Katsuki.”

She was right, of course. One look at Kazue’s tearful face and the dazed, vacant look on Izuku’s and Katsuki knew this was right where he needed to be. Comforting them and keeping his promise to protect them. That he had to choose that over hunting down the bastard that had done this to them made his palms itch, but it was easier to relent with his pup still tugging at his shirt.

“You keep me informed. And if you find that bastard, I want to know,” he growled.

Uraraka nodded. “Don’t worry, I will.” She stood, hurried over to Kirishima, who was lingering by the door as if keeping guard. Having the beta nearby was a comfort, even if Katsuki knew he wasn’t Izuku’s favorite person. He trusted Kirishima to have his back if something happened, and he knew no matter what the beta would defend the omega and pup with his life. He was good backup to have. He always had been.

So Katsuki allowed himself to be pulled closer by the pup, to lean in to scent Kazue despite his earlier reservations. A shiver went over the pup’s body and he fell limply against Izuku’s chest, whining quietly. Even with his pup in his arms and Katsuki’s alpha scent in the air, Izuku still seemed far away, only vaguely aware of what was going on around him.

It wasn’t until Katsuki carefully raised a hand and moved a lock of hair from his face that his eyes focused in on the alpha, searching him carefully, then turning to the rest of the room, the sprawling, empty pseudo-nest, Kirishima and Uraraka speaking in hushed tones at the door. He rubbed his cheek against Kazue, purred quietly when the pup whimpered.

“Are you hurt?” Katsuki asked the omega.

A hint of that vague look returned to Izuku’s face, but he sucked in a breath, held it, and let it out slowly, but shakily. “Not physically.”

Katsuki nodded, “Good.” He sat back for a moment, saw that the omega was becoming increasingly distant again, trying to fade away from the reality of what had happened. Or maybe he was being sucked into memories of his past. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of what had happened the last time he’d seen that bastard alpha and Katsuki knew it. So he took the omega’s hand, messaged it, tried to pull him back from whatever non-reality he kept fading into. “Do you want to try some of those breathing exercises the doctor gave you?”

Almost immediately, the omega blinked, snapping back into himself, a light coming back to his eyes as a look of incredulousness overtook him. But he still listened as Katsuki talked, he stilled breathed as the alpha did, allowed himself to be led through the exercises. Despite not having either omega or alpha speaking directly to him, Katsuki did notice that Kazue was trying to follow along with the breathing exercises as well.

As silly as it made Katsuki feel, sitting there, walking through how to breathe with Izuku, he did notice the omega settling the more they breathed. He settled back into this reality, back into the room, back into himself, so much so that his eyes began tearing up as the full weight of what had happened hit him. He sniffled, Kazue whimpering at his omega’s sorrow, and Katsuki reached to wipe his tears away.

“Just listen to my voice.”

The omega nodded, followed patiently along as Katsuki told him how to breathe, his tears never fully going away, but never growing any worse either.

- - -

Eventually, Katsuki became aware of Iida at the door to the pack room, along with Yaoyorozu and some of the rest of the pack. Beyond the familiar collective of their pack scent, he was also aware of new scents in the air, invaders, police no doubt. Tsukauchi was probably among them, though none of them, especially any alphas, would be eager to enter the pack room. Even if they were on the job and just doing what they needed to, going into a pack room of a pack you were not a part of was never a good idea, nor was it very comfortable for any of those involved. Especially with a grieving, terrified omega and pup being guarded within.

So it didn’t surprise Katsuki much when Iida carefully came over, still pausing at a respectful distance from the three. “The inspector would like to speak with you and Midoriya.”

Katsuki growled shortly, glanced down at Izuku. He had curled up around Kazue, had been humming a lullaby as the pup tried to drift off to sleep, though upon hearing Iida approach, he had gone quiet. The request had Izuku sighing, clearly exhausted by the thought of speaking to the police, though he sat up anyway.

“Here,” Katsuki gently took Kazue from the omega, offering his hand to help him stand. When Izuku struggled, Iida came over and offered his help as well. The omega smiled gratefully at the pack alpha, but stuck close to Katsuki’s side. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Right.”

They stepped out of the pack room, Katsuki taking stock of most of the pack being there, along with Tsukauchi, Sansa, and some other officers. Notably, he saw that Ito wasn’t among them, wondered where the detective was. If he wanted to help heroes so much and be an advocate for them, then he should have wanted to be there for this moment, shouldn’t he have?

Even as he wondered this, he was distracted by a sudden wave of other, familiar scents.

Just at the bottom of the stairs, he could see the rest of their honorary pack members gathered. Half of them dressed in their hero costumes. Most of them looking furious or sorrowful. All casting a curious eye at the green-haired omega beside Katsuki and the blond-haired pup in his arms.

Standing amongst the crowd, with Kaminari at his side, Shinso peered up at him, fiddling with the straps on his mask. His gaze flickered to Izuku, lingering as the omega tensed, no doubt knowing just how many eyes were on him. Part of Katsuki wanted to step in front of Izuku, to growl until the others left him alone. But this was hardly the time to give into possessive impulses.

So he turned his attention to Kazue, saw the pup had curled up in the presence of so many people, especially the alphas. Katsuki readjusted him to be closer to Izuku and farther up on his neck, toward his scent gland. When he whimpered, Izuku immediately ran a hand over his back and Katsuki rubbed the pup’s head comfortingly.

“Inspector,” Iida had already started the conversation with Tsukauchi, “Midoriya has agreed to speak with you. I only ask you keep your distance. Your being an alpha could be distressing for him and Kazue at the present moment.”

The inspector lowered his chin. “I understand.” There were no gentle smiles, no jokes, this time. The inspector was as serious as Katsuki had ever seen him, a fierce look about him, one of frustration and determination. When he faced Izuku, he did so with a hand to his heart. “My deepest apologies for what has happened. We should have found and stopped Yokoyama before this point. Were either you or your pup hurt?”

Izuku wrung his hands together, not seeming to know what else to do with them. “N-no. Katsuki… stopped him before… before he got too close.”

“I see,” Tsukauchi turned to the alpha, met him with that same, serious look. “And you, Ground Zero? Were you hurt?”

“It’s Bakugo here,” Katsuki growled as his pup stirred at the name. He began tracing a pattern on the alpha’s chest, finger traveling a winding path, though one that seemed somewhat familiar. “No way that bastard was going to get one up on me. Only one who got hurt was that asshole.”

“Who do you mean?”

Katsuki snapped his jaws. “Yokoyama. Who else?”

“I have to ask,” Tuskauchi seemed to pull a pen and notepad out of thin air. “Can you describe his injuries? We can give them along with his description to the area hospitals. Might turn up.”

“Doubt it,” Katsuki paused to glance down at Kazue, though the pup seemed too much in a daze to be paying much attention to what was going on around him. “Burns up his right arm. Maybe from the wrist to a little past the elbow. Bad burns. Peeling and charred at the edges.” For as serious as the situation was, Katsuki let a snarl ripple along his teeth, enjoyed the feeling of it. “Made sure that bastard knew exactly who he was messing with.”

“Katsuki,” the exhausted sigh from Izuku gave him pause. Air hissed between his teeth as he let his snarl fade, stepping closer to him as Tsukauchi politely ignored the exchange.

“If I may,” Iida took another step closer to the inspector, another step between him and the omega. “I’d like to know how Yokoyama knew where to find Midoriya and Kazue. We were under the impression that their location was being protected as confidential information.”

“It was,” Tuskauchi clicked his pen more than once over. “I’d actually like to know how he found out as well. It seems….”

When the inspector paused, Iida suggested “Suspicious?”

“Convenient.” Everyone around him stopped, struck, confused, by the word, but the inspector said nothing more on the subject, turning over his shoulder. “Sansa, check on the team examining the perimeter? I want to know immediately if anything is found.”

“Sir,” the detective nodded, left without another word.

Once he was gone, Tsukauchi clicked his pen one more time. “Midoriya, can you please describe what you saw, what happened?”

The omega sunk a little, as if deflating at the question, sinking under the weight of the dread that swelled within him. He stole a quick look at Katsuki, or maybe just at Kazue, before speaking. “I was in the garden with Kazue and I just… looked up and there he was. In the bushes. Just… staring at us.” He swallowed, glanced around as if looking for any signs of the alpha. When he caught the eyes of the pack members standing nearby, he looked away. “Kazue saw him and screamed and Katsuki just… appeared. And just like that, he was gone.”

“You didn’t see him climb the fence?” Tsukauchi pressed.

Izuku shook his head. “No. He was just there one moment, then gone the next. I didn’t see anything else.”

The inspector frowned at his notepad, asked without looking up, “And you, Bakugo? Anything else to report?”

“No. He used the cover of one of my explosions to get away. But he shouldn’t have survived it in the first place. Somehow, he must have dodged it.”

“Some sort of warping Quirk?” Iida had a hand pressed to his chin thoughtfully.

The inspector shrugged, his frown deepening. “We just don’t know yet. Yokoyama had no registered Quirk. He’s been able to appear and disappear seemingly at will. Perhaps it’s an answer to some of our questions.”

In a sense, Katsuki knew that was a reasonable solution. That Yokoyama had a Quirk that allowed him to stay out of the police’s eyes and come and go as he pleased. But he also couldn’t forget the strange reaction both Izuku and Kazue had had to the alpha’s bite, that Katsuki’s bite had seemingly overridden his claim on Izuku and ultimately helped to wake the omega from his coma.

Something wasn’t adding up. He just didn’t know where the math was falling short.

As he mulled over everything, Iida picked up the conversation with Tsukauchi, “Our packhouse doesn’t have any additional safety measures around the outside fencing. The number of our pack who are active heroes deters most from attempting any devious behavior against us.”

“Well with recent events, and the fact that part of your fence has been destroyed, I would strongly suggest some more security be put into place. Unfortunately, all our resources are focused on finding Yokoyama at the current time. We can’t really afford to lose anyone to patrolling the house.”

“Worry not. We can certainly spare some manpower at our agency. In any case, my pack is eager to protect our home. We do have two young pups here in addition to Kazue.”

Izuku stiffened suddenly, standing straight upward, as if shocked to his senses. Katsuki couldn’t quite tell what had shifted, but he suspected the omega had come to some sort of realization. Maybe about the pack, maybe about Yokokyama or himself or Kazue. In any case, he did curl inward slightly, a painfully guarded expression pulled tightly over his true emotions, which boiled under twitching lips and a scent that thinned considerably, as if the omega were trying to force himself to feel nothing at all.

Katsuki watched him, only half-listening as Iida and Tsukauchi continued, “I would highly recommend anyone you can spare start performing regular patrols around the area. We don’t know for certain nor can we confirm anything, but we do suspect Yokoyama may be a danger to the pups you have here in addition to Midoriya and Kazue. His motivations are still unclear.”

Iida nodded, once, sharp. “Understood. We will set up our own patrols as necessary. I’m sure more of the pack would be willing to volunteer their time to trying to find and stop this criminal as well. Think you could use some extra hands on your team?”

Tuskauchi reciprocate his nod. “Of course. We’ll take all the help we can get.”

The pack alpha wrinkled his nose, looked around at his pack, all gathered there, all poised like springs, all set on a razor’s edge. Because this wasn’t just about Katsuki and the omega anymore. Yokoyama had infringed on their territory, had presented himself as a threat to them all.

They had been on the defensive before, determined to keep Izuku and Kazue safe while also providing a warm, comforting place they could heal.

Now, everyone was clearly ready to go on the attack, to end this, once and for all.

Even as the pack rallied around them, as they drew even closer to the omega and pup, Katsuki stayed right where he had been since day one. At Izuku’s side, always right there if he needed anything. And he knew, now more than ever, the omega would need him to step up. That if he was serious about protecting and providing for them, now was the time to prove it.

So as Iida organized everything around them, as he ordered and reordered the volunteers that immediately stepped up to help defend the packhouse as well as join Tsukauchi’s team, Katsuki took Izuku’s hand. Pulled it to his lips, to kiss his knuckles. The omega startled at the gesture, but eventually, he just shook his head. Let Katsuki kiss him again, to trail his hand up the omega’s palm and wrist and arm and neck, to stroke his face and draw him a bit closer.

“I’m here,” he promised.

Izuku didn’t melt into his touch. But perhaps it would have been strange if he had. Instead, he settled, not quite completely, but enough for Katsuki to know it was enough. “I know,” he said, and somehow, the alpha knew he meant it.

- - -

That night, once all the police were gone and the heroes had organized themselves to start keeping patrols in the area, the packhouse somehow quieting, going back to a thin veneer of normal, Izuku pulled at Katsuki’s arm, didn’t quite meet his gaze.

“Stay with us tonight?” He asked.

The alpha nodded. “Yeah, sure. Just let me get changed.”

He went toward his room, Kazue still in his arms, though he carefully deposited the pup on his bed, aware that Izuku had followed him in. He shucked off his shirt, grabbed for the shirt he’d worn the previous night. Thought about just sleeping in his jeans, but eventually pulled those off too in favor of something more comfortable. He never did look to see what Izuku was doing as he changed, nor did he acknowledge the omega there, though they were both clearly aware of the other’s presence. Once he was dressed, he turned, saw Izuku stroking Kazue’s back, the pup curled up where Katsuki had set him down. The alpha carefully picked him back up, followed the omega back to his room.

Izuku changed much the same way Katsuki had, with the alpha very deliberately focusing his attention on Kazue and not the omega. And once they were both in something a little more comfortable, Izuku got into bed and Katsuki set Kazue in his arms. The two curled up around each other, and Katsuki slid in beside them. This time, when the omega pressed himself into the space between his arms, when they fell into a familiar, long-forgotten pattern from times past too long ago to remember anymore, everyone settled, despite all that had happened.

“Good night,” Izuku muttered.

Katsuki didn’t shut his eyes. “Night.”

Kazue said nothing.

Eventually, Izuku drifted to sleep, but more than once during the night, he was wracked with nightmares that Katsuki gently shook him from, coaxing him back to a reality where he was safe and warm and no longer alone.

For his part, the alpha never did find any meaningful sleep that night.

Chapter Text

While Katsuki never did find that deep void of restfulness, he did drift in and out of a dozing sort of sleep, constantly aware of the omega and pup beside him, of any movements in the room, of the heater clicking on and off at regular intervals. Eventually, he found he couldn’t quite stay in that place of rest anymore, rising up out of it and into the reality of their world. The reality that last night had happened, that he was laying in Izuku’s bed because the omega was terrified. The reality that he’d nearly lost him and their pup again, that he nearly hadn’t been there for them again.

During the night, Izuku had tucked himself against the alpha’s chest, with Kazue cradled between them. He seemed to finally be sleeping soundly, as did the pup, neither reacting as Katsuki stirred. He rubbed at his eyes, yawned, growled in dissatisfaction of the world, thought about getting up but didn’t want to disturb either omega or pup, so he reached for his phone.

He found several messages on it, mostly from pack members wishing him and Izuku well, telling him they’d be there for him, along with a single update from Tsukauchi that simply read, Nothing more of note found. That particular message made Katsuki’s alpha brain howl in fury.

He clicked his tongue, scrolled back through his messages. Found one from Kaminari that surprised him.

Hey! Hope you are doing okay. Did you still want to talk to us? Anything we can do to help, we’re there, man!

Shinso had not commented, but Katsuki remembered the other omega taking note of him, Izuku, and Kazue the previous night. He was aware of the situation. And he’d no doubt seen the message. He was just choosing to ignore it. Which was pretty much what Katsuki had been expecting.

He messaged back, Yeah. I have some questions for you two. Need a few minutes alone.

He wasn’t really expecting a response back. After all, there was no way Kaminari was awake this early, and although Shinso probably was still awake from his patrol, he didn’t think the omega would be interested in taking up the dialogue. So he was mildly surprised when he did just that moments later, responding, Denki and I have a half hour lunch today. You’re buying.

Katsuki growled, checked the time. It would be awkward with his schedule to make a lunch time, but it was likely the only time he was going to get without putting up a huge fight, and he honestly didn’t have the time to argue with them on it.

So he just wrote back, Fine. Tell me where to meet you. The omega sent the address of a café some of the pack enjoyed, Katsuki knowing it was close to the agency. That would work out.

With that taken care of, he tossed his phone aside, wrapped his arms around Izuku, holding him a little closer. It was strange to be in bed with the omega, to actually be holding him again. Even if it was familiar, in some vague, distant way, there was the added awkwardness of Kazue’s presence. He’d never had a chance to see where the pup fit between them, had never had the chance to develop a place for Kazue to sit and sleep with them in comfort. So it was a bit more awkward on top of it being strange to begin with. But it did feel nice. Izuku was warm and soft in all the places he’d been before, though Katsuki could also feel the definitions of muscles in his back and shoulders that hadn’t been there once upon a time. He ran his fingers over these new features to the omega’s body, but quickly stopped when he realized that was probably going too far. Even if they were courting now, the omega still hadn’t told him where the boundary was for things like that. Better to assume he wouldn’t be okay with Katsuki exploring his body like that at the moment. Hopefully that would come. He’d just have to wait a bit longer.

He laid with the two for a few minutes longer before decided he had to get up, to start the day. Maybe he could convince the omega to let him make him breakfast in bed again. Or maybe he’d just do it and ask forgiveness later. Yeah, that was probably going to be easier. Especially if it meant the omega could continue sleeping soundly for a little while longer.

With that in mind, Katsuki slowly began slipping himself out of the omega’s grasp. He wasn’t quite expecting when Izuku dug into his grip, when he wrinkled his nose and grunted unhappily at Katsuki moving. The alpha paused, watching him closely.

“You’re awake?” He asked.

Izuku growled, sighed, but found no intelligible words to say.

“I’m going to bring you breakfast. Let me get up.”

The omega growled, dug his fingers in more. “Stay.”

“Kazue needs to eat. And so do you.”

“Stay.”

“I need to get up and get the day started.”

Izuku growled, buried himself closer to the alpha, as if trying to dig himself under him. He grumbled something, Katsuki leaning in a little, not quite catching what he said. He waited, and eventually the omega growled, “Don’t leave me.”

There was something in the omega’s tone. Some small plea. A familiar ring. The words bitterly mirroring what the omega had said years ago. It all had chills racing through Katsuki’s body, claws crawling up his spine. A long-buried pain burrowed its way to the surface, smacking of angry moments and debilitating regrets. Maybe that pain came from himself. Maybe he felt it snaking its way under the omega’s skin. But he felt it, he knew it was real, and he even knew where it would be coming from. For as long as they had been apart, there was still a lot of shared emotions between them. Things they had experienced separate and alone yet of similar origin. He knew why Izuku was asking him to stay. He knew the omega was scared, for more than just the reason of Yokoyama’s sudden appearance. There was so much more to everything than just Yokoyama. Which just made the alpha’s intrusion into their lives so much worse.

Unfortunately, Katsuki knew there wasn’t much he could do. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t just make Yokoyama go away. He was already doing everything he could to hunt down the alpha and stop him. And he was doing his best to try to convince Izuku that he was safe here, that he wasn’t going to leave again. There wasn’t much else he could do. But he could still try.

So he curled around Izuku and Kazue, nuzzled into the crook of the omega’s neck, against his scent gland, growling lowly. “I’m not leaving you. I’m just going to make breakfast.”

The omega was quiet, shifting a little closer to the alpha. He tilted his chin up and muttered, “You didn’t scent my jacket.”

Katsuki blinked. “What?”

“My jacket,” he grumbled, “the one you gifted me. You didn’t scent it.”

The sudden shift in topic, plus the actual content of the conversation, gave the alpha pause. “Was I supposed to?”

Izuku groaned. “You’re such a dumb alpha sometimes, you know.”

Katsuki snapped his jaws. “And you’re a pushy omega.”

Before Izuku could stop him, he got out of bed, marched over to where his gift had been thrown onto a dresser. Very aware that Izuku had risen up to watch him, he tore the jacket out of the box, pressed it to his scent gland, letting out as much of a calm scent as he could, doing his best to get it all over, but especially where the omega’s scent glands would be while wearing it, then tossed it toward the bed. “Here. Better?” Instead of responding, Izuku purred, curled up with the jacket wrapped around himself and Kazue. “I’m going to make breakfast. I’ll bring you some.”

“No breakfast in bed!” The omega grumbled.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, shut the door behind him.

Walking out into the packhouse, Katsuki carried the tension of the previous night’s encounter. As much as he had felt it laying next to Izuku and Kazue, the rest of the house rung with it. Although, the more he walked, the more he thought there was something different about this tension. Around Izuku, it was a sound, a strained string pulled long and low, a somber noise of exhaustion and fear. Out with the pack, it was an oppressive force. A jittering energy of wild fury and apprehension. A focused thought, a resolute belief, proof of the entire pack’s involvement in the event. Katsuki hadn’t felt such energy around the house since the loss of Yaoyorozu’s pup – and that had been a decidedly more sorrowful tone. This was as serious as it got. And everyone knew it. The urgency to act, to find this bastard alpha, to stop him before he could try something again, was as palpable as a clenched fist, a readied stance, a palmful of sparks.

For as invigorating as the feeling was, Katsuki knew it was only going to stress Izuku out. No doubt the omega would pick up on the energy and who knew exactly how he would react, but Katsuki knew it wouldn’t be good. There wasn’t much he could do to change that, nothing he could do to singlehandedly change the entire atmosphere of the pack, and he knew it, which just pissed him off.

He stomped down the stairs, found several of his pack gathered in the living room, muttering to each other in secretive tones, stolen glances between them. Seeing them, Katsuki growled, caught their attention for how loud he was in comparison to their conversation.

“Hey. You’re going to stress Izuku out with how much you guys are freaking out. Just take a fucking breath already and get it together.”

Everyone had paused when he approached and they all stared at him after his words. He considered sticking around to drive his point home, but knew both Izuku and Kazue were waiting on him for breakfast, so he snapped at the group and spun away, stomping into the kitchen to get cooking.

He found Todoroki there, standing in front of the coffee pot, waiting for it to fill. The other alpha didn’t acknowledge him at all and there was something very normal and comforting in that fact. So Katuski ignored him as well, went about getting breakfast ready. Eventually, Todoroki poured a mug, then wandered the kitchen searching for the sugar and cream. In the end, Katsuki had to get them for him.

“The hell you doing drinking coffee?” He growled as Todoroki dumped an egregious amount of sugar into the mug.

He peered into it, then wisely poured it out and tried again. “Momo wanted some.” Which only begged the question, why did she want coffee so suddenly? Tea was typically both her and Todoroki’s beverage of choice, so what had changed? Something to do with what had happened last night? The tension that morning? Just the cumulating stress of everything? Something else?

It was a peculiarity, but once Todoroki had finally gotten an acceptable mug ready and left to deliver it, Katsuki turned his focus back to breakfast.

When everything was done, he packed it all up on the tea tray and took it back up the stairs. In Izuku’s room, he found the omega still cuddled with his new jacket in bed, but Kazue was sitting up, playing with figures of Togata and Amajiki. The pup chirped happily at the smell of food, quickly abandoning his toys to rush over to Katuski.

“Breakfast!” He demanded.

“What do you say?” Katsuki pressed.

The pup pouted. “Please.”

Katsuki handed him his bowl, Kazue sinking to the floor before he could give the pup his options. As Kazue dug into his food, Katsuki offered Izuku a mug of coffee only to realize the omega was sleeping. It was more than a little surprising to see that, to know that he had slept through Katsuki entering the room and Kazue leaving his side. Perhaps it spoke to his complete exhaustion, but perhaps it also spoke to his comfort with Katsuki’s scent, to the fact that he hadn’t reacted when the alpha had entered the room. The former seemed more likely and for as much as Katsuki knew Izuku needed the rest, he needed food just as much to keep his strength up.

So he set the tray down and brushed a hand over Izuku’s cheek, the omega stirring at the touch. “Hey,” he said, “wake up. Got breakfast ready.”

The omega groaned. “No breakfast in bed.”

“Then get up and let’s go downstairs.”

Izuku didn’t move, until Kazue said, “Mommy, it’s so yummy! You have to try it!”

It seemed the urging of his pup was his weakness. With one more groan, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, yawned widely. Katuski had seen this before, of course, as he had seen the omega’s broken tooth when he yawned, but the sight still tore at his nerves, had his skin prickling uncomfortably. Somehow, he knew it would always have this effect on him.

When Izuku looked blearily up at him, Katuski handed him the coffee. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” The omega took a huge gulp of coffee, then another. “Did you sleep any?”

“Some.” It wasn’t a lie. Not really. “I have patrol later. You going to be okay here?”

At first, Izuku didn’t say anything, staring into his mug. Then, he threw back the rest of the coffee, handed the empty mug back to Katsuki. “Do you know who’s going to be here today?”

“I can find out.” He offered his own mug to the omega, who took it without a thought. “I can stay if you want.”

Izuku swirled the mug, stared into it. “Is this black?”

“Yeah.”

He scoffed, handing it back. “You’re a monster.”

“Don’t need that sugary crap.”

“Language. And all the sugary stuff is what makes it good.”

“Why drink it if you just want sugar and cream?”

“It’s more societally acceptable to have some coffee with your sugar and cream.”

Katsuki just shook his head. “I’ll get you another cup.”

The omega waved him closer. “Stay and eat with us for a moment before you go running off.”

“All right.” He handed over a bowl to Izuku, then sunk to the floor.

He picked up Kazue and set him in his lap before reaching for his own bowl. As he began eating, Kazue leaned back against him, munching happily at his food. Izuku watched the two, then slid off the bed and joined them on the floor. While Katsuk raised an eyebrow at him, Kazue chirped and kicked his legs out, Izuku reaching across to stroke the pup’s nose.

They sat and they ate together on that floor and maybe it was a little strange, but maybe it was also a moment Katsuki knew he would remember fondly for a long, long time.

- - -

The café was one Katsuki had been to before, with Kaminari even, though he found walking up to it now was an unnerving experience. Knowing what was going to take place, the conversation he was about to have, had him grinding his teeth in some unplaced feeling he didn’t particularly want to name.

Even with the unease tittering around his mind, when he spotted Shinso and Kaminari sitting at a table tucked at the back of the room, steel settled in his nerves. He approached the table, sat without announcing himself, and said, “I want to talk about what being a male omega is like.”

Kaminari’s jaw immediately dropped and Shinso snorted out a laugh. “Was that supposed to be a joke? Because it was only mildly amusing. Which, to be fair, is an improvement for you.”

Ignoring his comment, Katsuki continued, “I’m sure you’ve heard by now I’m courting Izuku. Need to know the things that make courting a male omega different from courting a female omega. Things people wouldn’t normally think about or know.”

“So you came to us?” Kaminari still sounded dumbfounded.

“Who else would know this shit?” Katsuki snapped.

The beta drew back a little, but Shinso only leaned a little closer. “Color me intrigued. If only to see what the hell you think is so special about being a male omega that made you track me down to talk with.”

“I know there are things that are different,” Katsuki growled. “For one, Izuku said he doesn’t usually keep a permanent nest.”

Shinso shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

“So,” Katsuki already knew this had been a bad idea. Shinso was just toying with him, and enjoying the hell out of it. But he needed to know whatever the omega could tell him. So he grit his teeth as much as he could, said, “Things like that could really influence how this courting goes. Like how it maybe wouldn’t have been such a good idea to get him nesting materials for a gift.”

“Well that depends on the person,” Shinso sat back, kicked one leg up over the other. He glanced to Kaminari, but the beta was still looking quite confused and shell-shocked. “Denki’s gotten me things for when I do make a nest and it’s appreciated. Maybe, I don’t know, you should have asked him what his preferences are instead of assuming we’re the same as male omegas.”

Katsuki found that he could only grit his teeth so much before they started to hurt. “Thanks for that.”

The omega shrugged. “Sometimes you need to be led to water and sometimes you need your face shoved into the troth.”

There were several things Katsuki wanted to say, none of them appropriate in a public setting, all of them things he wouldn’t really mind screaming despite said public setting. Shinso was spared that when the waiter came by to take their orders. Katsuki had dressed in his usual sunglasses and beanie, both Shinso and Kaminari donning similar disguises, meaning they weren’t recognized and would have to wait for the normal service time, but at least they wouldn’t be interrupted.

Once their orders had been taken, Kaminari rubbed the back of his head. “I uh… are you being for real right now, Bakugo?”

“You think this is a joke to me? ‘Cause it’s not.” Katsuki snapped his jaws. “I’m serious in trying to court Izuku. Either you can help me or you’re wasting my time.”

“All right, all right,” Shinso raised a hand, not in surrender, more like acknowledgement of the alpha. “You are paying for lunch, so I guess I owe you some answers. What do you want to know? All our male omega dirty secrets? Which side of the bed we prefer?”

It was hard keeping his palms from smoking, though they did spark dangerously. Shinso noticed, and he smiled in some small victory.

There was some part of Katsuki that was just about done with talking to the omega, slowly resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to go with plan B, but things shifted quite suddenly when Kaminari laid a hand on Shinso’s thigh.

“Babe, I think we should hear him out.”

“I’m listening, Denki. The real question, is he?”

“Yes, I am.” Katsuki growled. “You think I didn’t know this was going to go this way? That you wouldn’t just make it fucking easy for me? I’m dead fucking serious. So much so I’m willing to put up with your bullshit to get the information I want. So either talk to me or get the fuck out of my face, ‘cause now I’m getting pissed.”

“Clearly.” The omega again paused when Kaminari squeezed his knee. “All right, fine. I’ve had my fun.” He planted his feet on the ground, shoved his hands into his pockets. With how at ease he had been moments before, there came a sudden wariness to the omega, revealing a bit of the reluctance under his bravado. Katsuki didn’t doubt it was awkward for him to talk about this stuff with him, an alpha he didn’t particularly like, even if it was with his mate next to him, but he hadn’t known Shinso to back down from confrontation and the omega certainly didn’t give any indication he was going to start at that moment. In fact, he squared his shoulders to Katsuki, leaned back to feign calm and said, “You’re courting him right now, right? So what do you need to know?”

“What should I expect from Izuku that I wouldn’t have if I was courting a female omega? How can I cater to his needs?”

“Again, you could just ask him,” Shinso sighed. “But, if you really want me to spell it out, the only real difference between a male and a female omega is our hormone levels are different. Less estrogen, more testosterone. That’s why we don’t typically keep nests all the time, why we’re a little rougher, why you’re unlikely to see much submission from him, no matter what you do.”

As the omega spoke, Katsuki had been thinking over the fact that yes, it did make sense Izuku’s hormones would be inherently different from a female omega, that it made complete sense the things he’d seen could be related in large degrees to just that simple fact, but the last part Shinso said caught his attention. “What do you mean?”

The omega lowered his chin slightly. “What do you mean, what do I mean?”

“Izuku was always submissive to me when we were kids. The hell are you talking about?”

Surprise lit up Shinso’s eyes, followed by a familiar and annoying amused grin. He placed his chin in his palm. “Ah, I see. You weren’t the one catering to him. He was the one catering to your massive, fragile ego.”

This time, Katsuki couldn’t help the smoke that trailed up from between his fingers, nor the sudden snap of his jaw. “Spit it out already.”

“Hmm,” Shinso shared a look with Kaminari, who was still clearly lost in the conversation. “Let’s just say, there’s a reason most male omegas actually tend to end up with betas. Different hormone levels means we don’t like rolling over and submitting to just any old alpha. We sometimes like being the top dog in the relationship. In every sense of that word.”

There was a beat of silence between them.

Then Katsuki glared at Kaminari. “Seriously, you bottom for this loser?”

“Hey, wait!” The beta snapped. “It’s not about just, you know, that. You gotta be okay with not having a submissive omega all the time. And, you know, most people, especially guys like you, aren’t.”

“Guys like me?”

Kaminari shook his hand. “You know what I mean. Big alphas. Scary alphas. You’re used to people just doing what you want. Well, mostly, anyway.” The beta leaned toward Shinso, grinned at him in what was more than a little suggestive. “You gotta know when to let your partner take the reins. Just go with the flow. After all, it’s super hot being with someone who’s not afraid to take the lead.”

Shinso rolled his eyes. “Really blowing me away here.”

“Thanks, I know, babe, but try to keep your pants on for now.”

“I’ll do my best.” The omega tilted his chin toward Katsuki. “Anyway, my guess is if your little omega wasn’t putting up a challenge for you at any point, you really should consider if he was all that into the relationship to begin with.”

It was easy to feel the initial spike of fury and indignation, would have been simple to snap his jaw and tell Shinso he had no idea what he was talking about. What was less easy was to hear his words, to consider them, to actually wonder if he was right. When they had been kids, Izuku had always acted subservient to him, like any other omega Katsuki had known. In their most recent interactions, he had been anything but. What did that mean about their previous relationship? Their current one? What if Shinso was right?

Through the fog of his racing thoughts, Katsuki realized he had leaned forward, half a snarl on his face. Shinso looked unimpressed and Kaminari was halfway lifted from his seat, as if he thought he was going to have to keep the alpha from his mate. But Katsuki leaned back, snapped his teeth together, biting down on the growl that had been in his throat.

“That’s beside the point and not something for you to judge in our relationship,” he said. “What I need to know is if there is anything else you can think of that I might want to know going into this courtship. Somethings most people wouldn’t know.”

Rather than immediately mocking him, Shinso paused. His expression hadn’t changed, but Katsuki got the impression that the omega was judging him, picking him apart piece by piece, whether he liked it or not. Kaminari was still hovering just over his seat, seemingly unsure of what to do in the situation, though he slowly lowered back down as his mate shrugged an arm around him.

“There’s nothing general I can tell you about male omegas that hasn’t been said already. No, most male omegas don’t keep nests all the time. We tend to be less submissive than female omegas, though that’s not across the board. You have a kid so I assume you already know about all the intricacies of our genitalia.” He paused, seemed to roll a thought around his head for a moment, then shrugged. “Everything else is basically the same.”

“Basically?”

“There are going to be differences between omega to omega, but that’s not necessarily because of our primary gender. That’s just to do with the kind of person they are.”

Katsuki paused, chewed at the inside of his cheek, hoped neither the beta nor omega noticed. “What about pups?”

Shinso and Kaminari shared a look. “What about them?”

“What’s different from a male omega having a pup to a female?”

“That,” Shinso pointed a finger at Katsuki, which he didn’t particularly like but kept his annoyance to a slight raise in his upper lip, “is not a question I can answer. I don’t have pups nor do I intend to have any. All I know is our conception rate is low. Something to do with hormones again. But that’s all I’ve got for you.”

Something about the conversation left Katsuki dissatisfied with it all. It didn’t feel like Shinso had told him a lot. Essentially, all he’d done was question his relationship with Izuku and mock him for asking the questions to begin with. But at least he’d given him something to go off of. A question for him to ponder.

If Izuku hadn’t stood up to him, if he’d let Katsuki walk all over him when they were kids, what had that meant about their former relationship? Had the omega felt anything at all? Did he feel anything now? Had it just been convenient before, that the omega had known him for so long that it felt like the thing to do to be with him? Was it just convenient now?

Did Izuku really care at all for him?

While Katsuki stewed over that question, another realization was slowly creeping up in his mind. Specifically, that Shinso hadn’t been able to answer some of the more pressing questions he’d had. That he’d have to look to someone else to answer those. Someone with pups.

And it was going to be awful.

He snapped his jaws, pulled out his wallet, set several bills on the table. “I have to go. Give the rest as a tip to the wait staff.”

While Shinso seemed somewhat relieved for the conversation to be over, Kaminari blinked at him. “You’re leaving? Our food hasn’t even gotten here yet!”

“Got what I wanted and I’m not hungry. See you at the packhouse.” He paused, glared at Shinso, who stared back, waiting for something. Eventually, the alpha snapped his jaws. “I’m not going to say thanks for what you said, but thanks for being willing to talk in the first place. Now don’t fucking talk to me for a while.”

“Deal.” Shinso reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone. “Before you go, give me the omega’s number.”

“Izuku.”

“Yeah, him.”

“No.”

The other omega glared at him, but put his phone away. “Fine. Give him my number. Tell him he can reach out of if he needs anything.”

“Fine.” Katsuki spun on his heels. “I’ll tell him, but if you do anything to hurt him, I’ll fucking kill you.”

He didn’t have to look to know the omega was smirking. “I’d like to see you try.”

It wasn’t worth the effort to rise to his challenge. Katsuki just snapped his jaw and walked away.

- - -

Three days later, Katsuki was practically pacing in front of the front door, knowing who was about to walk through it. If he was going to do this, he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, so he could say he had patrol and just leave before he died from embarrassment. But first, he had to get his answers. One way or another.

When there came a cheery knock at the door, he was right there, pulling it forcefully open. He was met by a grinning face. “Hey! Good to see you! You’re looking well.”

“I want to talk to you and your mate.”

There was an awkward pause. Despite it, Katsuki refused to back down, waiting for the answer.

Until, that is, he smelled Iida at his back. “Bakugo, let our guests in this instant! And stop being so aggressive!”

“I’m not!” Katsuki snapped at the pack alpha, though he still allowed himself to be led aside, Iida opening their door a little more.

“Please, come in. You are all welcome here.”

After another moment’s pause, three pups barreled into the house first, all three of them already shouting for Takahiro and Fumiko. After them came their alpha and omega, Mirio Togata and Tamaki Amajiki respectively. While Togata kept his cheerful demeanor, Amajiki watched Katsuki suspiciously, though he didn’t seem any more or less nervous than usual. Remembering what Shinso had said about male omegas, Katsuki couldn’t see Amajiki not being completely submissive to Togata. Then again, he couldn’t see the alpha being all that dominating to begin with.

As the pups ran rampant and Katsuki glared at the alpha and omega, Iida gestured into the house. “You are both welcome to make yourself at home, but as you know, we are currently providing a home to an omega and pup who’ve fallen on some hard times. I’m not really sure if either will make an appearance, but if they do, I would ask you to please be mindful of them.”

Togata laughed. “Oh, don’t worry! We’ll be sure to be extra respectful!”

Amajiki gave him a flat look. “I’ll be sure to keep Mirio reined in as much as I can.” Togata just laughed again.

Katsuki opened his mouth, intending to tell them there was something they could do to help Izuku out if they wanted, when a sudden, loud, and familiar gasp had him whipping over his shoulder. Kazue was standing in the archway from the kitchen, mouth agape, staring at Togata and Amajiki. Spotting the pup, Iida smiled and went to speak, but was cut off when he shrieked out.

“IT’S—! IT’S—! Mommy! Mommy, look! It’s Lemillion and Suneater! Mommyyyyy!”

The pup raced toward the two, all starry-eyed and awestruck, but when he got within ten feet of them, he skidded to a sudden halt. Both Togata and Amajiki, smiling and prepared to say hello to the small pup, paused, confused by the reaction. But Katsuki knew exactly what had happened, and he caught Iida casting him a worried look as well.

Kazue stare at the two, no, at Togata, for several long moments, before racing to Katsuki and hiding behind his leg, wrapping his arm around the alpha with a whimper.

“It’s all right,” Katsuki ran his hand along the pup’s head. “This is Mirio Togata and Tamaki Amajiki. They’re friends. They won’t hurt you.”

Kazue shivered, dug himself closer to Katsuki. “Alpha,” he hissed.

All at once, a string of tension pulled tight between everyone. With Kazue’s reaction and the sudden realization of the situation for everyone else, there was a long pause, a moment where nobody was quite sure how to remedy the moment, how to move past or address the pup’s anxieties.

That moment came to an end when Togata smiled, lowered himself to the ground, trying to be as near to Kazue’s level as he could be.

“Hey there!” The hero’s voice was still cheerful, still upbeat, but drawn in, soft and reassuring. Even Kazue paused to listen to that voice. “My name’s Mirio! What’s yours?” Kazue glared at the alpha, unmoving. Togata continued as if he hadn’t noticed. “How old are you? You’re so big! I bet you’re eight?” Kazue blinked, wrinkled his nose when Togata continued, “Seven? Six?” The pup pouted, leaned a little away from Katsuki to glare at Togata. The hero hummed, then snapped his fingers. “Ah! I bet you’re five!”

“No.” Kazue growled, clearly unimpressed.

“No?” Togata crossed his arms, seemed to think. “Well, I’m not giving up yet! If you’re not five, you’ve got to be four!”

The pup nodded once, sharp, a motion Katsuki somehow knew. He stepped a little away from Katsuki again while still keeping a hand on his leg. “I’m Kazue!”

“Kazue, huh? Good to meet you!”

The pup glared at the hero, then put a hand on his hip. “You’re Lemillion! The number one hero.”

“Who, me?” Togata rocked back on his heels. “Sounds pretty fancy. I’m just Mirio.”

“My alpha’s the number four hero,” Kazue proclaimed, a little puff to his chest. “He’s almost the number one! He’s super strong too!”

Nobody heard the last part of what Kazue said. Because as soon as he had mentioned the number four hero, both Togata and Amajiki snapped toward Katsuki.

It didn’t occur to him that the two maybe hadn’t heard the full story of why Izuku and Kazue were staying at the packhouse, but he didn’t get the chance to speak before a voice from behind him called out, “Kazue!”

The pup immediately raced away from Katsuki to glomp onto Izuku, who had come through the archway. He went to pick the pup up, but stopped, spying their guests for the first time. A strained line of tension wound up his shoulders as he took Kazue’s hand and stepped to be at Katsuki’s side.

“Uh, hello,” he shifted, buzzing with a nervous energy that was both distantly familiar and utterly brand new. “Sorry, I heard Kazue shouting and uh, anyway,” he cleared his throat, cut a glance to Katsuki.

The alpha snapped his jaws as Togata rose, examining them with a careful eye. Perhaps it wasn’t quite judging, but the other hero was certainly looking at the three of them and lining up the puzzle pieces. Katsuki gestured to Izuku, “This is Izuku Midoriya. He and I were childhood friends.” He thought about mentioning their courting, but decided against it for now. “Kazue’s our child.”

Amajiki blinked. “That, uh, seems like something more than what just friends would do.”

“Observant,” Katsuki growled, though his voice was drowned out by Togata’s sudden peal of laughter.

“Wow! Never thought I’d see the day. I’m Mirio Togata and this is my mate, Tamaki Amajiki. It’s good to meet you, Midoriya.”

“Uh, yeah! Super good!” That nervous energy was seeping into his voice, into the omega’s jerky movement, was making Katsuki’s skin itch uncomfortably. “Uh, sorry if Kazue was being rude. We’re still working on… well….”

The fading of his voice, the draining off of that excited energy made all the hair on Katsuki’s body prickle. When he cut a glance at the omega, he saw that Izuku was looking anywhere but where someone was standing, that he was clenching Kazue’s hand tightly. Without thinking, without really even realizing what he was doing, snaking an arm around his shoulders, drawing both him and Kazue closer to him. He caught another one of those surprised looks from Togata and Amajiki and ignored them.

It was Togata who broke the silence, first with a smile, then with a dismissive wave, “He wasn’t being rude. He was perfectly fine.”

Izuku didn’t say anything immediately, but eventually, he took a breath and braved a small smile, “You must be mistaking my pup for someone else. He is Katsuki’s, after all.”

It was strange, Katsuki could admit, to not be insulted by the teasing. That he was okay with everything everyone had been saying. Because both Kazue and Izuku had acknowledged him as the pup’s alpha, as his father. And nobody seemed to really be thinking much more about it. The facts had been said. Nobody was pushing against the idea. Not even Kazue. The recognition, as small as it might have seemed, was like a drain being pulled free, a dam of swelled emotions cracking for the first time. It was less difficult to not react to the teasing than it was to not react to the overwhelming joy that was filling him up. It was such a joy that he could taste, something stronger than any scent he’d known, any food he’d ever eaten, something that made him feel both incredibly powerful and completely impotent. Because now he was in that position, he was now that alpha, the father, the role model to look up to, the one to guide their little family, to be there for both of them. He had what he wanted, at least at the most base level. Now he had to maintain an exceptional standard. To prove he was worthy of the titles given to him.

No small feat.

Through his own internal dialogue, he was aware of Togata laughing fully and Izuku allowing himself a small chuckle with him, of Amajiki watching them all, taking them all in. The omega had always been more obviously observant of things around him. Togata was well versed in keeping an eye on everything, but he’d also grown up on the theatrics of hero work, meaning he always had that smile on his face, always had something to say, even at the worst of times.

As if to prove that to everyone, he picked up the conversation once again when the laughter started to die away, “We have our littlest one, Hikaru, who’s just turned four last month. And our older twins, Keiji and Miari, are six. So might be good playmates for Kazue, if you wouldn’t mind them playing together.”

“Oh, no! I think that would be great.” Izuku lifted Kazue’s hand to gain his attention. “Would you like to meet some new pups to play with?”

Kazue seemed to weigh his options carefully, then proclaimed, “I want new friends!”

“Well, be sure to be nice to them and maybe they’ll be your friends back.”

As Izuku talked to Kazue about the pups, currently playing in one of the offices they’d recently had to convert to an entire playroom to accommodate the three pups, he saw an opportunity. A moment he had to take advantage of. Because if he was going to do this, he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible so he could go off somewhere for the rest of the time the alpha and omega were there if need be.

So he lifted his chin, caught Iida’s eye as the pack alpha watched over everyone’s interactions. “Take Izuku and Kazue to meet the pups.”

Maybe he could have said please. Or something more to explain what he really needed. But he didn’t really want Izuku catching wind of what he was doing. Maybe the omega was just thinking he needed to talk to them about hero things. If he was lucky that was all he’d think this was. Because he already could see the look Izuku was giving him out of the corner of his eye, the curious, almost knowing glare.

Iida, meanwhile, didn’t really seem to get what he was trying to do at first, though he did eventually nod and say, “O-of course. I’ll introduce you! The Amajikis are very sweet pups. You’ll like them a lot. But uh,” he leaned in close to Izuku, “Keiji is an alpha.”

“Ah,” Izuku only seemed to be half paying attention to the pack alpha, still trying to search Katsuki for what he wasn’t saying. “It’ll be fine. C’mon, firecracker.”

“Ah! Kacchan!” The pup reached for Katsuki.

“I’ll come play later, Kaz.” I have some business to take care of.

The pup pouted, but allowed Izuku and Iida to lead him away. Amajiki went to follow them, but Katsuki stepped in his way. “I want to talk.” Even as he spoke, he didn’t miss that Togata immediately stepped to be at his mate’s side.

With that motion, there came a clear line in the sand. They were coworkers. Acquaintances. But Togata didn’t trust him with Amajiki. For whatever reason. And let them keep their reason. Katsuki didn’t care. What he cared about was getting his answers.

Before he could say anything though, Togata had crossed his arms, his smile gone. “We’d heard about the case Tsukauchi is working on,” he said, glaring after where Izuku had gone. “That there’s a potential serial killer in the city. That one of his victims had been found alive. That said victim was in the care of heroes. But we didn’t know he was the mother of your child.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a long story,” Katsuki nodded toward the dining room. “We should sit down.”

Surprise lit both the alpha’s and omega’s eyes, the two sharing a similar look. Neither had obviously expected Katsuki to agree to talk. But here they were, with the alpha inviting them to sit and hear him out. But it was only because they didn’t realize the motivations with which Katsuki moved. This was going to be easier if they knew the full story anyway, so best just to get it over with.

Luckily, they followed him without much of a fuss, nor did they say anything when he began talking, when he explained his and Izuku’s past, how he had left the omega not knowing he was pregnant, how he had found them, how he had been trying to care for them ever since. The more he spoke, the more both alpha and omega grew bewildered and horrified. Though Katsuki couldn’t quite place their emotions, he hoped it was on what Yokoyama had done to the omega and pup and not on anything he’d done. He still needed them to trust him, to be willing to help him, after all.

He explained everything, including the fact that he had started courting Izuku properly and that Yokoyama had made a surprise appearance at the packhouse just a few nights earlier, that despite him having been there and having been injured in the ensuing confrontation, he still hadn’t been found by the police. That somehow, life was going on, with everything happening around them. Once that was out of the way, he let the information sink into both alpha and omega, who, professional heroes as they were, looked absolutely sickened.

Togata put a hand to his chin. “I’d heard about the case some, but not all this. This is serious. I’m sorry this happened to your family, Bakugo.”

“It sounds like this guy’s really got it out for Midoriya. But why?”

Katsuki snapped his teeth. “He’s a sick freak. Do we need a better explanation?”

“Even if we know that for a fact, there’s almost always more to the story.” Togata reached, maybe subconsciously, to take his mate’s hand. “Did you want to ask us to help in the case?”

“Hell no,” Katsuki growled, much to the shock of the two heroes, “I’ve got that handled. He can’t hide forever. Soon enough, I’ll smoke him out. But if you hear anything about where he might be hiding, I’ll take all the information I can get.”

The shock meant the two lagged slightly on responding, though Togata did eventually clear his throat. “Yes, we’ll absolutely let Tsukauchi know if we hear anything. I’m sure Tamaki can pull a few contacts to see if they’ve heard anything about this guy.” Katsuki heard what he had said, but he mostly heard that the alpha would tell Tsukauchi and not him. Which was probably smart. But it still pissed him off.

He refrained from snapping his jaw, sliding his feet out along the floor slightly, taking up as much space as he could in his seat, some small way of dispelling the frustrated energy. “Anyway. That’s not why I wanted to talk to you two. I’ve got some questions I need answered.”

“Oh, of course!” Togata actually leaned forward. “Anything we can do to help.”

“I need to know what’s the difference with male omegas raising pups than with female omegas.”

For a moment, neither Togata nor Amajiki reacted. Then, the omega’s jaw slacked open and he, quite intelligently, said, “Uhhhhhh, what?”

“You’re raising three pups right now. Izuku’s been raising Kazue on his own for a long time. I know it’s a bit different for male omegas. Different hormone levels and behaviors, I’m told. So I’d like to know what I can do to help Izuku with Kazue that would be different from helping someone who is a female omega.”

Still, neither moved.

They were silent and still so long that Katsuki eventually snorted, closed his eyes, tried to deny the warmth that was seeping into his face. “Look, if you don’t want to say anything then fine, but at least let me know so I can stop wasting my time.”

“You really want to know what it’s like raising pups as a male omega?”

Amajiki was, by nature, shy, unconfident, liable to sit back and let Togata take all the spotlight, because it was easier for him. To hear his voice speak loud and firm, to see the spark in his eyes, to recognize that the omega was just as serious as Katsuki was. There wasn’t much more he could ask for in that moment.

So he nodded. “Tell me everything.”

Amajiki turned a glance to Togata, who shook himself out of his shock, shrugged, and sat back, letting the omega lean toward Katsuki. When he started talking, Katsuki wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy. Especially after his conversation with Shinso. But Amajiki began talking and he didn’t hardly stop, allowing small interjections from Togata from time to time.

So Katsuki listened, and he learned, and he made sure to remember every word.

- - -

Eventually, after an exhausting lecture and many questions from Katsuki on the finer points he hadn’t thought about, realizing that Amajiki had simply walked him through normal pup rearing with some smaller details about different behaviors that male omegas sometimes, but not always, exhibited, Katsuki finally stood up from the table, the conversation over. Togata, who had been watching most of the exchange, smiled brightly, told him he was proud of Katsuki for some unfathomable reason, and Katsuki did his best to thank him for letting him talk to his mate.

“Oh, I didn’t do anything,” Togata grinned. “That’s the secret. I couldn’t get Tamaki to do anything he didn’t want to nor could I stop him once he sets his mind to something.”

“Stop,” the omega whined, brushing a hand over his face. “You make me sound overbearing.”

“What? You? C’mon, Tamaki! You’re the most giving person ever! You just sat here for forty-five minutes talking about pup rearing with Bakugo of all people.”

“Yeah,” Amajiki twisted a piece of hair in his face, “that was a little weird, not going to lie.”

“I needed it.” Katsuki growled. “But now the conversation’s over and I’m going to leave now.”

“Okay,” Togata raised a hand as if offering him a high-five. “Don’t worry! You’re out the gate late, but if I know you, you’ll catch up in no time.”

He would have liked to tell the other alpha that he’d already caught up, that he didn’t need his support. But that wasn’t the truth. He was still so far behind. And he had needed both Togata’s and Amajiki’s help to do this.

But he stilled brushed past the other alpha without lifting his hand. “Thanks or whatever. Your pups are in the corner office. You’ll know it when you hear it.”

He didn’t turn to see if the two had left or if they lingered in the dining room, going immediately into the kitchen and to the coffee pot. He didn’t even really know why he ended up standing there, staring at the empty pot. Iida didn’t like it when people brewed coffee too late in the day. It was unhealthy, he’d say. So of course, he started making a pot, giving no thought to what time it was.

As the pot brewed, Katsuki leaned his hands against the counter, glaring at it, turning over all the information Amajiki and Shinso had said. There was a realization slowly dawning on him that maybe he hadn’t known as little as he thought he did. That the behaviors they talked about Izuku either didn’t show or he’d always shown and Katsuki had just assumed that was part of him as a person. And maybe it was that simple. That the omega was influenced by hormone levels or whatever, but that in the end, they didn’t define him as a person. That maybe he’d gone about this the wrong way. That maybe he’d screwed up.

A soft, lingering touch drew up his back, dragging with it a line of warmth. It was like someone was undoing a zipper at his spine, opening him up and allowing the emotions building within to slip out. A shudder traveled up his body with the touch, until a palm settled along his shoulder, and Izuku stepped to his side.

Nobody else could have made him feel like that. So he wasn’t surprised. Not at all. What gave him pause was the wrinkled brow and thin lipped look on the omega’s face. He searched Katsuki, stared deep at him, deep into him, turning over things even the alpha didn’t really know much about.

Then, once that was over, he smiled. “Hey.”

“Yes? Did you need something?”

“No.” Izuku actually leaned toward him, leaned against him, fit right in that place under Katsuki’s arm. Right where he always had fit. And maybe it was still strange. But it felt right. “I, uh, heard what you and Amajiki were talking about.”

The words themselves were innocent enough. But somehow, they still made all the hair on Katsuki’s arms stand on end. “Yeah. I had some questions.”

“About raising pups? And male omegas?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki pressed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to keep the hairs there from standing up as well. “Something like that.”

Izuku gave him a breath to continue, but he didn’t really know what else to say or do. He knew what he wanted. He wanted to wrap Izuku up, to promise him again that he was safe, that he’d do anything to provide him and Kazue everything they should have had before. But he hesitated, didn’t really know what to do as the omega leaned against him.

“I wasn’t trying to go behind your back,” he eventually growled.

The omega hummed, the vibrations ringing to some deep, unsettled part of him. “I know. I get what you were trying to do. It’s sweet.”

The moment hung between them, unmoving, poised at the edge of either an abyss or an open sky. It lingered, until Katsuki dared to reach down, to take Izuku’s hand, to intertwine their fingers, one at a time, to feel the omega wrap his hand around the alpha’s, to accept the moment. Katsuki took that moment to bring Izuku’s hand to his mouth, to kiss his knuckles, to let the touch linger for however long he wanted, somehow knowing he wouldn’t pull away. As he did, Izuku leaned closer, their bodies lining up in familiar places. Even after all these years, he still fit like a missing puzzle piece at Katsuki’s side.

“Kazue called me his alpha earlier,” he said. “Still can’t quite believe it.”

“He can take a little while to warm up to people, plus I imagine it was a shock when he first met you. But I think he can believe it now.”

Katsuki shook his head. “Still feels strange.”

Izuku just laughed. “You’ll get used to it. He is your fault, after all.”

“Make it sound like a bad thing, why don’t you.”

The omega hummed. “You got to skip some of the messy parts. Those parts are directly your fault.”

Even if he kept his tone light, the words still stung. Katsuki stared into the sink, felt a wave of heat roll up his back, of regret and sorrow to wrinkle into every muscle it traveled. The heat was there for only a moment, as Izuku smoothed it all away, his hand somehow following the exact same path the anxiety had taken. How he knew, Katsuki couldn’t say, but he enjoyed the moment, sunk into the touch.

But it didn’t change what he was thinking.

“Sorry. That wasn’t fair to you.”

“It is what it is,” Izuku sighed. “One step forward at a time. That’s all we can do.”

That saying was one Katsuki sensed the omega had cultivated over the years, a mechanism to cope with what had happened and what was happening at the time. Despite its origin, he had to admit it was a good way to go through life. A way to wade through the bad days to reach the goods ones, whenever they may come.

He squeezed the omega’s hand, ran his thumb along his skin.

There were words he wanted to say, but before he could gather them, a ring sounded, and Katsuki couldn’t help the growl that escaped his throat. He dug his phone out of his pocket and reluctantly released Izuku’s hand. He checked who was calling.

Then, he paused.

Immediately, Izuku perked up, as if sensing a change in him. “Something wrong?”

“Dunno.” Katsuki accepted the call, brought the phone to his ear. “Yeah, what?”

“Ground Zero,” it was the first time Katsuki had heard defeat in the inspector’s voice. It was a final tone, one not only resigned, but resolved, to whatever had happened.

It was his tone that kept the alpha from growling his response. “What’s happened?”

Tsukauchi was very quite. The silence was a heavy one, one that had Katsuki seeking solace in Izuku’s slightly befuddled look, in the innocence of his expression. In his not realizing that something terrible was happening.

Then, the inspector said, “We need you to come down to a crime scene. Urgently.”

Chapter Text

The room smelled of blood.

Fresh.

Old.

Blood run like rivers. Blood smeared into the ground. Blood stolen from a life far too soon.

Death had a very distinct smell. Anyone who had smelled death before, truly smelled death, could pick it out as soon as they walked into a room.

Amongst the blood, Katsuki could very clearly smell death. The cloyingly sweet smell of decay, the stagnant air, the tastes of agony and fear. It was an unnerving smell. One that nobody could get used to.

The room itself was somewhat large, though it felt so small, standing there. Tsukauchi had led him there, was waiting patiently for him to regain his bearings. Ito was there as well, his back to Katsuki, knelt over something on the ground.

Strewn over the floor, blood, bits of flesh, and three no-longer pristinely white sheets.

It was a horrible sight. A terrible moment.

And yet, Katsuki couldn’t quite get himself to feel anything.

The inspector waited for him to approach, waited for him to meet his gaze, waited for the right moment to lower himself to the floor, hand hovering over the first of the white sheets. “Ready?”

No.

There was no way he could ever be ready for this.

But he nodded, watched carefully as Tsukauchi drew the sheet back, revealed what was underneath.

Oh, yeah.

Katsuki would know that face anywhere.

Even without a gnarl of grinning teeth, he knew the face of the alpha who had hurt Izuku and Kazue.

There was a surprised look on Yokoyama’s face. As if he still couldn’t quite believe that he was dead. But there was no mistaking it. The hole in the alpha’s forehead, the spatter of brain across the floor.

The bastard had died, surprised, confused, unable to comprehend his own end. Nothing more.

“Yeah,” he eventually muttered, “that’s him. That’s Ryo Yokoyama.”

Tsukauchi nodded, drew the sheet down a little more. Revealed bandages up the alpha’s arm. Katsuki knew what would be under them.

“This will be your doing?” The inspector asked.

“The burns, nothing more.”

It wasn’t the end Katsuki had been hoping for. No, he didn’t mind that Yokoyama was dead. But he would have preferred the alpha be locked up like the animal he was for the rest of his life. Or, at least, for him to have suffered while he died. But this? This had been clean. Clinical. Without thinking or feeling.

It had been an execution.

“Here. You should take a look at the others. See if you recognize them.” Tsukauchi was pulling the sheet over Yokoyama, moving on.

Katsuki lingered in the moment. Saw, as if time itself had slowed just for him, just for this moment, as the alpha’s wide, unseeing, surprised eyes stared up at the ceiling, regretting nothing, having no remorse for what he had done.

But, gone. So very gone. Gone from his life. Gone from Kazue’s. Gone from Izuku’s. He was gone. He wasn’t coming back.

Never again.

The white sheet fell over the body, the only thing marking it as Yokoyama’s the distinct circle of blood seeping from the top of the sheet. While the inspector moved to the next body, Katsuki stood over Yokoyama. Waited. For what he wasn’t sure. Perhaps to make sure the alpha didn’t get back up. To make sure he was gone forever. To make sure he would never haunt or hurt Izuku again.

And, of course, he didn’t move.

Because he was gone.

And it was over.

With a sour taste swishing in his mouth, Katsuki stepped away, following the inspector to the second sheet, which was placed over a body on a mattress. When it slid away, it revealed a pretty omega woman, her face shocked and in horror. The agony was clearly written on her face. She had died screaming. She was still screaming, even if her voice no longer cried out in the land of the living.

She was a mess. Worse than any of the other omegas in the case. It looked like Yokoyama had almost literally torn her to shreds. A knife lay nearby, the blood on it dark and thick and clotting.

Like Izuku, she had been tied up with some sort of improvised cloth. The bindings sunk deep into her wrists and ankles. It looked like she had fought as hard as she could. And it hadn’t been enough.

Tsukauchi was gazing down at her, his lips in a thin line. A line of regret. And sorrow. And failings.

They hadn’t stopped Yokoyama in time. He had kidnapped and killed again. One final time. And this omega had suffered. She had suffered greatly.

Katsuki stared down at her, and he imagined Izuku, staring up at him, the horror and pain permanently twisting his face. The image made him feel weak, like he was going to collapse off his feet. But then he blinked and it was the woman again, not Izuku. Because Izuku was okay. He was still alive.

But this could have so easily been his fate.

“Do you recognize her?” The inspector’s question snapped at Katsuki, despite the soft tone he had used.

It took the alpha a moment to organize his thoughts, to move past the obviously horrifying nature of what lay in front of him, to really look at her, to think if she was smiling, if she had been alive and happy, would he know her?

He thought for a long time, carefully sifted through anyone he knew who might be this omega, and eventually shook his head. “No. Don’t know her.”

Tsukauchi nodded, replaced the sheet with much more care than he had with Yokoyama. And he moved to the last sheet. “You ready?”

No.

Of course he knew what was under that sheet. The inspector had told him already. But knowing and being confronted with it were two very different things.

Still, he nodded, braced himself as Tsukauchi drew the sheet back.

She was beautiful. It was really the only thing Katsuki could think of. She was beautiful, and young, and so, so, so tragic. If he had to guess, she was probably a little younger than Kazue. Maybe three. But she could have been four. She could have been a classmate of his.

Instead, she was laying under that sheet, her eyes closed as if sleeping, her arms drawn over her chest as if in prayer. Somehow, she looked peaceful. Besides the horribleness of her mother’s death and the strange confusion on Yokoyama’s, she looked as if she were simply napping. Like this was all just a game to her, a game where she could spring back up and laugh and tell them all that she tricked them.

And of course, she never would.

“How?” Was all Katsuki could say. He couldn’t see any obvious injuries. No blood on her body. No signs she had been abused at all. Not even bruising.

Tsukauchi sighed. “Broken neck. Looks like she might have been tossed around, dropped, something.” He shook his head. “It almost… looks like it was an accident.”

An accident. This little pup had died. And it was an accident.

Her mother’s death hadn’t been an accident. Yokoyama’s neither. But hers. This innocent pup. She had been the accident.

Katsuki wanted so badly to be sick. He’d seen a lot of terrible things in his job. Somehow, he knew he never would quite see something more horrible than this. Not even finding Izuku had been this awful. At least Izuku had been alive. This? This was just madness.

“I don’t know her,” he said, and Tsukauchi quickly covered her, stood, stepped away. It seemed he didn’t want to be anywhere near the body either.

Again, he sighed, placed a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming. I’m sorry you had to see this, but,” he shook his head, “at least now you can tell Midoriya that Yokoyama is gone.”

If there could ever be a silver lining to this, then that was it. The fact that Izuku was no longer in any danger. That he and Kazue could go and live their lives without having to look over their shoulders.

At least, this was an end.

But he also knew that this was the beginning. The beginning of something much greater than just Yokoyama.

“Who did it?” Katsuki asked Tsukauchi. He waited, but the inspector just stared. “Who killed Yokoyama?”

Without thinking, the inspector’s eyes went to the first sheet, to the perfect little circle of red. “We don’t know. A tip came in that someone had heard what they thought was a gunshot. By the time we got here, whoever did this was long gone.”

“But why?” Katsuki hissed. “Why kill him? If it was to defend the omega, then why did they leave? If they knew about the murder, then why kill him in the first place? Why did any of this happen?”

Tsukauchi shook his head. “It’s going to take some time before we have those answers. What we know now is Ryo Yokoyama is dead. Other answers will come. But for now, just focus on that.”

Katsuki nodded, something stirring in his stomach. He was keenly aware of the communication device in his ear, its direct connection to the cell tower, its ability to contact any phone he wanted. There were only two people he really wanted to talk to in that moment, but he stayed with the inspector, glaring at him.

“Is this the end of your investigation, then? Will I hear from you after this?”

Tsukauchi glared forward, at nothing, at something Katsuki couldn’t see. “I’m afraid we will have more dealings in the future on this, Ground Zero.”

Somehow, Katsuki had known he was going to say that.

The inspector put his hand on the alpha’s shoulder again. “You’ve done what you can for us. Go home. Tell Midoriya that Yokoyama is dead. I don’t think I need to tell you any other information is confidential, including how he died.”

“Yeah, I know,” Katsuki growled.

Tsukauchi didn’t seem to hear him. “It’ll be good for him to know Yokoyama is gone. Please tell him that I wish him the best, that I wish we could have brought him in so he could pay for his crimes in a more justiciable way.”

“Right,” Katsuki stomped off, letting Tsukauchi’s hand fall from his shoulder. He didn’t want to be there anymore. He wanted to be home, with his pup and the omega. To hold them and tell them everything was going to be okay now.

He was halfway to the door when for the first time, Ito turned, saw him, and more importantly, Katsuki saw him. He stopped in his tracks, glared at the huge black eye on the detective’s face. For a moment, he tried to decide whether it was even worth asking in this moment. However, something had made him pause. Something had made him stop when he saw Ito’s injury. Something that made him remember the detective hadn’t been at the packhouse the day Yokoyama had shown up.

“The hell happened to you?” Katsuki growled.

Ito didn’t smile. Not that time. Instead, he grimaced. “My old man’s a mean drunk, what can I say?”

“Your dad did that to you?”

The detective shrugged. “Can’t say I was ever his biggest fan. Hey, by the way,” he nodded behind him, to Yokoyama’s body. “You suggested Yokoyama’s Quirk might have something to do with enhanced alpha senses, right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

Ito tried to smile, but it felt fake. Fake and wrong. “Thought you might want to know you were pretty close.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ito pulled out a notebook, flipped to one of the pages, scanned it. “It seems his Quirk is related to increased alpha hormones. He can tolerate more of the hormones than most people can nowadays, giving him characteristics of what we might have once upon a time called a prime alpha. Though, of course, that’s not a thing nowadays. It did give him greater strength, enhanced senses, and an insane amount of paralytic hormones in his saliva. Which is how we think he subdued all the omegas, including Midoriya.”

For more than just a moment, Katsuki stared hard at Ito, listening to everything he said, and everything he didn’t. When he was finished speaking, the alpha clicked his tongue. “How the hell do you know what his Quirk is? I thought he was unregistered.”

“He is, but that’s my Quirk,” Ito puffed out his chest proudly. “It’s called Identify! When I get within eyesight of someone, I can tell what their Quirk is, what its function is. For example, on the surface yours seems to be just the ability to create explosions. In reality, you excrete a specialized sweat with explosive components and additionally have sparkers in your hands that allow you to ignite your sweat.”

Again, Katsuki only listened to half of what he said. After all, he didn’t need an in-depth explanation of how his own Quirk worked. He’d already known all of that. But hearing Ito’s own Quirk did strike a chord in him. Ito had wanted to become a hero. With a Quirk like his, he’d had the potential to be a very powerful hero. Knowing such details of someone’s Quirk, especially in a society where both heroes and villains overly relied on their Quirks, could have turned the tide of battle in Ito’s favor. But he’d still flunked out. The question was, how and why?

For as interesting a thought as that was, Katsuki wasn’t at all invested in continuing it. In fact, his mind was already turning back toward Izuku, toward hearing the omega’s voice, needing to, if just to reassure himself that he was still okay. That Izuku and Kazue were safe and they were going to be safe. The monster was dead. It was over.

At the thought, he walked past Ito, the detective still talking, “Anyway, sorry I missed coming to back you up the other night. It must have been scary for you and Midoriya and your pack to realize that— hey! Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer, stepping outside and letting the door shut behind him.

It was very quiet outside. Despite the numerous police cars at the scene, blocking off the abandoned building. It was a seedier part of town. A little worse than the part of town he’d found Izuku in. But still an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.

In the quiet of this place, in the apathy that this place continued its existence on, Katsuki stepped away, slipped into an alleyway, pressed the comms button on his wrist.

“Call Izuku Midoriya,” he said, and almost immediately, he heard a dial tone. The tone itself was painfully long. Stretching into eternity as he waited for the omega to pick up. For a long time, he thought this was going to be his purgatory. Standing in that alley, waiting for the phone to stop ringing.

But it rang on.

And on.

And on.

And on.

And— click!

“Hello?”

“Izuku.”

A pause.

Then, “What’s wrong? Where are you? Are you hurt?”

It was almost laughable that the omega was worried about him. He ran a hand over his face. “No, I’m fine, I’m fine. Stop freaking out.”

“You don’t sound fine.” For the omega to be able to pick that up over the phone was impressive. But Izuku had always been fairly good at noticing those things. “What happened?”

“Yokoyama is dead.”

Another pause. This one longer, less finite. Like it, too, could stretch on for eternity, a somehow worser purgatory than the damn dial tone.

Then, Izuku muttered, “Oh. Are… are you sure?”

“I just identified his body.” He lowered his voice, imagined the omega in front of him, reached out to the nothing that was there instead. “Yokoyama is dead. He’s gone. It’s over.”

Another pause. Another silence. Another moment, waiting for what would come next.

Then, in a quiet voice, “Did… did you do it?”

“No.” Katsuki ran a hand over his chin. “No, it wasn’t me.”

“Oh.”

…

“Did you want me to kill him?”

“I thought you might.”

“Well, I won’t say I’m sad he’s dead.”

…

“Hey, Deku?”

“…Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“….”

“….”

“Can… can you come back soon?”

“Yeah. Have a couple things to take care of and I’ll be home.”

“Okay.”

“It’s all right, you know. You don’t have to worry anymore. It’s over, Deku.”

…

“How… how did… he die?”

“I can’t say until the police make their report.”

“Did he hurt anyone else?”

…

“I see.”

“Go hug Kazue. Sounds like you need it. I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. Uh, Katsuki?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you… but please don’t call me by that name.”

Katsuki flinched. “Sorry. Old habits.”

“Does it make you feel better?”

“What?”

“That name?”

“…Yeah. Something like that. Guess I just wish…,” he rubbed his chin. “Nevermind. I’ll be home soon. Wait for me, Izuku?”

“Yeah. Okay. I will.”

“I…,” he swallowed. Shifted. “I’m thinking of you.”

…

“Yeah. I’m thinking of you, too.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

The line clicked dead.

Katsuki leaned against the nearby wall. He twisted his gauntlet, cursed under his breath. Pushed off the wall, made his way away from the building, away from the crime scene. Away from everything that had happened.

- - -

His phone rang. It felt like it rang for a long, long time.

Then, “Helloooooo?”

“Sano?”

She was silent, but only for a heartbeat. “What’s going on? Where are you? Jin!”

The call of Sano’s alpha’s name made Izuku’s body shake. He didn’t want to think about the alpha. He didn’t want to think about any alpha. He didn’t really want to think at all.

“Izuku, where are you? Are you hurt?”

“No,” Izuku gasped, tried to hold himself together, only to shiver violently. “No, I’m not hurt. I’m okay, I’m okay, I just—” he bit down on his tongue, didn’t want to say anything else.

Sano was quiet, waiting for him to say something, pausing for a moment to mutter something to her alpha. “Okay, listen to me, babe. Jin can come get you if you need him. No questions asked. Doesn’t matter what’s going on. You say the word, and he’ll come get you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he growled, sniffled. “I don’t need Jin to come get me.”

“Then tell me what’s going on. Why are you upset? Where’s Kazue?”

“Please, Sano.”

Again, she went quiet. Taking a breath. Another. Then, she lowered her voice, almost whispered, “Okay. Just. Please, I need to know what’s going on. I need to know you and Kazue are safe.”

“We’re safe, it’s just….” He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t even really know why he didn’t want to say it. But the words felt prickly, liable to catch in his throat, to choke him, to hurt him.

So he took in a breath, held it, let it out slowly. Wiped at his face. “Katsuki called… he said that… the alpha who attacked me and Kazue… that he’s dead.”

Again, Sano was quiet. Izuku didn’t even hear her talking to Jin.

But she, too, seemed to take a breath, eventually said, “Okay. So, the guy who kidnapped you is dead.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he’s dead.”

“Well, babe, I don’t mean to sound callous, but I don’t know why you’re crying and upset about that.”

“I don’t really know either.” Whatever it was, the realization sinking in, the words he had said, the emotions he was feeling, something boiled over, and at the very end of his last word, he gasped, gasped again, and began sobbing. He pressed his hand to his face, already felt tears rushing down his cheeks.

Sano sighed, softened her voice, whispered, “Oh, babe, shhhh. It’s all right. It’s all right. Shhhh.” She went quiet and listened as Izuku caught a sob in his throat, tried to wrestle it under control only for the next to barrel over the first. “Babe, I just want to hug you so badly now.”

“I know. I miss you.” He managed a laugh, though perhaps nobody else would call it that. “I… I guess now that he’s dead, I don’t need to be in protective custody anymore. Maybe I can actually come see you.”

“Well, we can worry about that later. Just want to make sure you’re okay first, babe. Everything else we can handle afterward.”

“No, I’m okay. Just… a little overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Sano let the conversation trail off, listening as Izuku took several deep breaths, as his sobbing died down.

With her silence, the omega looked out over the balcony he’d run away to. To the garden, to the broken fence, to the scorch marks were Katsuki had so suddenly appeared, when he had rescued him and Kazue. Again. At the time Izuku had needed him most, laying half-dead in some abandoned building, like a miracle, he’d appeared. And now, he’d done it again, as if to prove miracles really could happen. Katsuki had appeared and protected them. And now, he’d delivered the news that the man who had hurt him so much was dead. That some small part of this was finally over. Yokoyama couldn’t find him or Kazue again. He was dead.

It was over.

But… somehow he couldn’t quite believe it. After all that had happened, to just have it be over, just like that. It didn’t feel real at all.

They were quiet, Izuku calming himself as much as he could, Sano listening, a presence even in her silence. But knowing Sano, he should have known it wouldn’t last forever.

He should have known the moment was coming when she cleared her throat and said, “So. You feeling a little better? Calmed down a bit?”

Izuku sniffled, ran a hand under his nose. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m doing a little better.”

“Okay, good. Because I have to ask,” there was a big of a skip in her voice, something that set Izuku on edge. “So, uh, Katsuki, huh?”

For a moment, his brain didn’t register the name properly. “What?”

“Earlier you said ‘Katsuki called.’ So. Who’s Katsuki?”

Again, Izuku’s brain didn’t comprehend the words. “Uhh—”

“Well I googled it,” Sano went on, ignoring when the omega made a short whining noise. “My question is, how the hell did you have a kid with the number four hero in the country?”

“I! Sano, that’s not—”

“Seriously babe, don’t try to tell me Kazue’s alpha is not Ground Zero. You know. Katsuki Bakugo?”

“I, uh— don’t—”

“He’s got the eyes, the hair! That little pout of Kazue’s is not too far off from that scary-ass smile. C’mon babe! Can’t fool me.”

“But I—” he paused, absolutely certain that Sano was giving him her signature glare from over the phone. He whined again, huffed, and threw his hand into the air. “Okay, fine! Yes, that’s Kazue’s alpha. He and I grew up together. I’m staying with Katsuki and his pack right now.”

“Well good. They seem qualified to watch your back.” Sano said, a note of victory in her voice. “Also, ha! I knew it!”

“Yeah, okay. But you can’t tell anyone!”

“Why not?”

“It’s… not safe. For me or for Kazue.”

“Oh.” Realization dawned quickly in Sano’s voice and her wheelchair squeaked, probably from her shifting slightly. “Okay, I won’t say anything.”

Izuku growled slightly, sunk down into his chair. He gazed out over the gardens, wished Katsuki was there. He didn’t really know why, but he was craving caramel and chilis and a prideful smirk never far from such smells. Even the thought of such things had him swallowing, worrying at his lip.

“I probably need to go. Should check on Kazue.”

“All right. You sure you’re okay, babe?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I will be. Just, guess I’m still in shock. Just need a bit more time.”

Sano made a dissatisfied noise, half a grunt of exacerbation, half a growl of discontentment. “Stay in touch, babe. And, if the police say it’s safe, I do want to see you and Kazue again. I just want to hug you both so much!”

“I’ll see if that can be arranged. I’m sure it won’t be an issue.”

“Right. But will it be an issue for me to meet the infamous Ground Zero is the real question?” There was a teasing note to her voice, one that made Izuku frustrated for how flustered he became.

“Uh, no promises. But he’s kinda protective of me and Kazue, so maybe. Just… don’t do anything too crazy.”

“No promises, babe. You know me, after all.”

Izuku just shook his head. “Bye. I’ll be in touch.”

“Goodbye! Talk again soon!” It was maybe a statement. Maybe a promise. Maybe a question. But in any case, both she and Izuku hung up. And maybe they both sat back for a moment. And thought about what had just happened.

The maybes faded quickly away, Izuku rising from his seat, turning away from the ruined garden, back to the house, slipping silently inside.

There was a small murmur throughout the house, an apprehension that had been palpable since Yokoyama’s appearance. While the house was almost never quiet by any means, the whispers and shifting and creaking had taken on this new tone, changed almost overnight. Not that Izuku could blame anyone. Tsukauchi’s warning about Takahiro and Fumiko potentially being in danger still hung around his neck like a noose, an accusation not so easily shrugged off. If he was right about that, then there was only one person to blame for it.

It didn’t even seem to matter that Yokoyama was gone either. There was still a beat of tension in the air. A shift that had come about because of the alpha, because he’d come back for Izuku. The damage had been done. This had been his fault.

“Hey!”

Izuku startled, stilled as he spotted Kirishima standing at the end of the hall, his hand raised. The beta laughed, rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine.” Izuku had long gotten used to members of the pack stopping him, asking him how he was doing, inviting him to join them. He’d even grown a fondness for many of them, an appreciation for their welcoming attitude. But, in that moment, he didn’t really want to talk to anyone. “Umm, I have to go check on Kazue.”

“Oh! He’s napping with Fumiko and Takahiro. Mina and I put them down and he wanted to lay down with them. Figured that would be oaky.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Well, there went his excuse. And Kirishima knew it.

The beta smiled pleasantly. “Mind if I stick around for a moment? I had a question for you.”

He supposed he could have said no. And in fact, he had denied and avoided the head beta in the past, clinging to an anger, a frustration he could actually point to the source of, rather than some existential terror brought about by the attack. Mai had told him again and again that holding grudges against people in desperate situations just trying to help wasn’t healthy for him or his pup. And he knew it. It hadn’t been fair to redirect so much of his hurt at Kirishima, Iida, and even Katsuki. So he’d tried to let it go, to allow the beta close enough to start earning his trust. But sometimes, it was very hard.

This was one of those moments, when he was feeling especially vulnerable and unsettled. It would have been so much easier to say no.

Instead, he shrugged. “I, uh, guess so.”

“Right on!” Kirishima nodded down the stairs. “C’mon! Let’s go see if we can sneak a snack before dinner.”

Izuku nodded, followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where they found Yaoyorozu staring at the coffee pot, an exhausted slump to her shoulders. She gave them a courtesy glance before turning back to staring at the appliance as if it were the bane of her existence. Kirishima had paused to watch her, a slight tilt to his head. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to convince myself that I don’t need coffee.”

“Why would you need to convince yourself of that?”

“I’ve had three cups today already.”

Even Izuku blinked in shock, sharing a look with Kirishima. “But I thought you didn’t drink coffee?”

“I don’t,” she groaned, slumping down a little more. After glaring at the coffee pot for a little longer, she resolutely turned away. “What are you two doing?”

“Raiding the pantry!” Kirishima sounded a little too enthusiastic, but Izuku could appreciate his commitment.

The alpha sighed. “Why is it that I feel the need to talk to you like you’re one of the pups?”

Kirishima shrugged, pawing through the pantry shelves with careless abandon. “Must be the mom in you.”

Yaoyorozu’s glare had returned, fixed on the beta, though she eventually gave up with a little shake of her head and nodded to Izuku. “How are you feeling, Midoriya?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” he tried to sound upbeat, but not too upbeat, the result being that he just sounded confused and maybe a little manic.

Luckily, either the alpha didn’t notice or didn’t think it was too out of the ordinary. “I haven’t seen you around the house a lot recently. Anything on your mind?”

“Oh, yeah!” Kirishima emerged from the pantry with a bag of some sort of in his teeth. “I was going to ask you, you seemed a bit off recently. Everything okay?”

“You know you can always tell us if something’s bothering you.” Strength and focus had returned to the alpha, Yaoyorozu standing a little taller, encouraged by the support of the head beta, despite his continued attack on the pantry.

Izuku did his best to smile, to raise his hands and try not to seem too awkward. “Ah, no, it’s fine! I’m fine!”

“You do know,” Kirishima leaned out of the pantry to give him a knowing look, “that saying ‘I’m fine’ is code for something being really not okay.”

“I, uh, don’t know what you mean, really! I’m doing okay. A lot better than I was. Doctor said I should be out of my cast soon and everything!”

This time, it was Yaoyorozu and Kirishima who shared a look, though Izuku couldn’t quite tell what was exchanged between them. Whatever it was, Kirishima stepped fully from the pantry to be at the alpha’s side as she pressed a hand to her heart and smiled warmly. “Is it about what Inspector Tsukuachi said? About our pups being in danger?”

Her words shocked Izuku so much that he didn’t know how to respond. How did they know? How could they know his exact fears, the things weighing so much on his mind?

They didn’t give him time to think, to try to figure out how they could have known, as Yaoyorozu went on, “We don’t blame you for what’s happened.”

“Yeah, man,” Kirishima added, “it’s not your fault. This is that crazy guy’s doing, not yours.”

“We know you would never put Takahiro and Fumiko in danger on purpose. Nor would we do anything different knowing what’s happened now.”

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima pumped a fist in the air, grinned widely. “We’re going to keep doing our thing, supporting you and Kazue! And we’ll find this guy and put a stop to him.” Yaoyorozu nodded as he spoke, her energy returning with a little bounce of determination.

Their words, while sweet and appreciated, slid off Izuku’s back, piled up at his feet on the floor. He tried to smile at them, couldn’t quite managed to do so. “Thank you. But it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

The alpha and beta paused, glanced at each other. “What do you mean?” Yaoyorozu asked.

It occurred very suddenly to Izuku that he was the only one in the packhouse who knew. That it seemed Katsuki had just received the news himself and had only told him. And suddenly here he was, facing down the thought of having to tell the two himself what had happened.

He swallowed, took a breath, and heard the front door open, his heart shuddering when Katsuki’s voice called out, “I’m home! Izuku?”

His feet carried him toward the alpha before his brain could think to move. Katsuki was kicking off his shoes, a duffle bag of his gear slung over his shoulder, though he quickly tossed it aside and opened his arms, scooping Izuku up into an embrace before the omega could really think about what had just happened.

What he did know was that, in that moment, he let out a shuddering breath, felt himself melting, his knees growing weak. He might have fallen if the alpha hadn’t been there to hold him up. But Katsuki’s arms were strong, wound tightly around him, his breath hot at his neck, his mouth set in a hard line pressed against Izuku’s shoulder. He smelled so nice. So warm and safe. Izuku buried his nose into the alpha’s shirt, unabashedly breathed in slowly and deeply, shuddered again as the alpha’s scent washed over him.

“I’m here,” Katsuki said. “It’s all right now.”

Izuku shook his head, buried himself a little deeper into the alpha’s embrace. There, it was easy to forget about what all had happened. It was easy to just lose himself in the moment. It was easy to pretend the world wasn’t nearly as complex and big as he had found it to be.

- - -

Iida made an announcement to the pack at dinner that night. He told everyone that they expected Shinso to arrive at the packhouse for his heat in three days’ time, and that Yokoyama had been found dead that afternoon. Yaoyorozu and Kirishima already knew, of course, Katsuki having explained it to them when they’d asked after Izuku’s behavior. But the rest of the pack gave mixed reactions. Some seemed relieved. Others puzzled. Some gave no outward reaction, though Katsuki sensed something untrusting crawling up their arms. He couldn’t blame them. He didn’t quite trust the news himself. Because something just didn’t feel right. Even if the alpha who had been vexing them so much was gone, it didn’t feel like an end.

It just didn’t feel like this was all over.

Izuku sat at the table with Kazue curled up in his arms, the pup a bit cranky, glaring at anyone who came near his omega. It seemed he was more reacting to Izuku’s emotions than his own, though the omega didn’t seem to realize this. Even when Katsuki tried to comfort the pup, he turned away, whined and growled until the alpha left him alone. Izuku stroked his back and played with his hair, absent, distant, but still trying his best.

The announcement was made right before dinner, meaning nobody had much of an appetite. Katsuki ate as much as he could, though he spent most of the time encouraging Izuku and Kazue to eat. The omega did so, but a bit numb, though luckily Kazue ate with an enthusiasm only shared by Kirishima, whom Katsuki knew could stress eat through their entire fridge if allowed. It seemed the news didn’t quite settle anyone down. Which only reaffirmed to Katsuki that something wasn’t quite right. Still, he didn’t dare say anything to Izuku, focused instead of making sure the omega was taking care of himself.

After dinner, the omega announced he was going to bed. Kazue objected to the early evening, so Katsuki agreed to stay up with him.

“You want me to send him in when it’s bedtime?”

“Yeah,” the omega sighed, rubbed his face. “That’ll be fine.”

“All right. Good night. Let me know if you need anything.”

Izuku chewed at his lip, wouldn’t look at him. Finally crouched down to kiss the crown of Kazue’s head. “Yeah, okay. Good night, firecracker.”

“Night, Mommy!”

“Good night, Katsuki.”

“Night.”

As the omega went off to bed, Katsuki watched after him, resisting the urge to click his tongue. It wasn’t until Kazue pulled at his hand that he looked away, followed the pup as he demanded they play before bed.

It was, admittedly, nice to get some time with Kazue, just the two of them. Since Izuku had come to live at the packhouse, they hadn’t been afforded that, the omega typically either playing with them or at least in the room, watching over it. It was different not having him there, getting to focus just on the pup. They played, Kazue trying to wrestle him under control only for Katsuki to scoop him up and hold him high in the air, the pup squealing in delight. Then, it was bath time, then they got ready for bed, and suddenly it was time for Katsuki to deposit the pup back into Izuku’s arms.

He was expecting the omega to only be dozing when he opened the door. Izuku had only ever gotten deep into sleep when he knew Kazue was at his side, some instinct keeping half his brain working, listening for the pup’s return. So he opened the door very quietly, hoping not to fully wake the omega. When he did, he saw Izuku shivering under the blankets, flinching in his sleep, whining in distress.

Immediately, Katsuki set Kazue on the ground behind him, trying to hide the omega from the pup. “Kaz, go get Uraraka for me.”

The pup stared up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Why?”

“Just do it!” He tried not to hiss it, quickly stepping into the room, closing the door, and crossing to Izuku. He tried to touch the omega, but when he did, Izuku screeched out, flailed, twisting up in the sheets. “Hey, hey, hey! It’s me, it’s me! Izuku, it’s me! Wake up!”

The omega didn’t react. It wasn’t until Uraraka, and eventually even Jiro and Tsu, joined them that they got Izuku awake, the omega opening his eyes with a gasp, a wild look about him. He seemed to realize all at once that he had been dreaming, that he was in bed, safe with Katsuki and the omegas nearby, and he immediately collapsed backward, as if all his strength had been stolen.

“Sorry. Sorry,” he kept saying, still gasping desperately for air.

Realizing he was starting to go into a panic attack, Uraraka patiently sat in front of him, Katsuki helping to pull the omega upright, and they worked on his breathing together. Eventually, he calmed, without as much of a spectacle as his first night terror. But he was still sweaty and exhausted, leaning against Katsuki for support. Once he was calm, the omegas said they would change the sheets again for him and Izuku nodded, getting to his feet. Katsuki kept a grip on his hand, though the omega slipped it away from him.

“I… I want to take a shower,” he muttered.

“All right,” Katsuki offered his hand. “Do you need help?”

“No, no. I’m fine.” He didn’t sound convincing, but Katsuki didn’t want to push him.

While the omegas got his bed ready, the alpha followed Izuku out into the hallway, toward the bathroom. He only paused when he saw Kirishima with Kazue in his arms, the little pup leaned against the beta’s chest, looking so very tired. Izuku slipped away toward the bathroom but Katsuki paused to rub the pup’s back, to move a bit of hair from his face.

“Here, put him in my room for now. Let him get a little sleep while Izuku cleans up.”

“Sounds good!” Kirishima kept up his positivity, despite everything. That was his way though. His small contribution to the pack. A light amongst the dread and the sorrow.

The beta nodded to Mina, who followed him with a curious glance at Katsuki first. Katsuki didn’t react, so she went with him toward his room, cooing to the little pup.

Once they had disappeared into his room with Kazue, Katsuki went over to the bathroom. He paused at the door, went to knock, intending just to make sure Izuku hadn’t fallen asleep in the shower. He could hear the water running. But over the water, he heard something else. Sobbing, deep, horrible sobbing, pulled from a roiling pit of tangled emotions.

He probably should have knocked, but something drew him into that bathroom, had him hurrying over to the shower, which had a curtain pulled over it, hiding the omega inside.

“Izuku?” He called, and the omega groaned between his sobs. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! Would people please stop asking me?!”

Katsuki paused, felt a bit of a bristling at his neck. He put a hand on his hip, shifted his weight as he stood in front of the shower. “You don’t sound fine.”

“I know,” Izuku sobbed. From how his voice was traveling in the small space, Katsuki wondered if he was crouched down, maybe sitting with his back against the wall. “Why, Katsuki? Why can’t I just be happy? He’s dead! It’s over! Why can’t I just enjoy that?”

Truth be told, it was the question Katsuki had been wrestling with since receiving the news himself. Something he’d thought about for a while now.

He sat down, leaned against the wall next to the shower, sighed. “Just because he’s gone, doesn’t mean the things he did are gone too. It just means he can’t hurt you again.”

Izuku sobbed, said nothing for a few moments. Then, he sniffled and groaned. “This is bullshit.”

Katsuki would have laughed if it wasn’t so tragic. Instead, he pulled out his phone. “I’m texting Mai.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“You need to talk with her.”

“I see her in a few days.”

“If nothing else, she might be able to call you tomorrow.” He pocketed the phone once he’d sent the message out. “It’s all right to not be all right, you know.”

Izuku sniffled again. But at least he wasn’t sobbing anymore. “Yeah. I know.”

The sound of the water running, of it dripping off the omega, filled what would have otherwise been a strange silence between them.

When it was clear the omega had calmed down somewhat, Katsuki pushed off the wall, stood. “I’m going to go stand outside. You let me know if you need anything.”

“Fine.”

Katsuki did just as he said he would. He went to stand outside the bathroom door, taking just a moment to peek into his room, finding Kirishima and Mina had fallen asleep with Kazue sprawled between them. The pup seemed comfortable enough and the two betas were snoring loudly, so Katsuki left them to it. He waited outside for Izuku, listened as eventually the water snapped off, waited until the door opened and the omega stumbled out. His head drooped in exhaustion and his thin scent spoke to a complete draining of his emotions.

Without saying a word, Katsuki took his arm and put it over his shoulder. “You want me to carry you?”

“No,” the omega growled.

“Then keep up.”

He helped Izuku back down the hallway, into his room. The omegas had changed the bedsheets and left for the night, their lingering scents the only proof that they’d been in the room at all recently. Katsuki pulled the fresh sheets back, Izuku collapsing into them. The alpha then pulled the sheets up over his body, rose, only for Izuku to take his hand.

“Stay,” he muttered.

“I have to go get Kazue.”

The omega paused. Lifted his head. Alarm tightened his fingers on the alpha’s wrist. “Where’s my pup?” It was asked in a deathly quiet whisper.

Katsuki placed his hand over Izuku’s. “In my room. With Kirishima and Mina. Kazue was falling asleep, so I told them to put him down in there.”

“Oh.” Izuku shifted. Loosened his grip, but only slightly. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. I checked in on them. Betas were snoring so loud I can’t believe you couldn’t hear them over the shower.”

“Oh.” The omega paused again. Tugged at Katsuki’s wrist. “Stay.”

Katsuki paused. Waited, for what he wasn’t sure. “What about Kazue?”

Izuku growled. “Stay.”

He wasn’t exactly sure why the omega wanted him to stay. Why he wanted the alpha over his pup. But the grip on his wrist tightened the longer he paused, so eventually, he crawled into the bed, wrapped his arm around the omega, Izuku settling immediately. He pressed against Katsuki’s chest, purred happily.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Katsuki asked.

The omega grumbled, shifted. “It’s good for pups to learn to sleep away from their omegas eventually. And Kirishima would die before letting anyone hurt him.”

This time, Katsuki couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s quite a change from when you first met him.”

“Just because I don’t particularly like him at the moment doesn’t mean I don’t recognize he’s a good person. He just irks me. But I know he’d do anything to keep Kazue safe.”

“You’re right.” Katsuki tucked Izuku closer to him. Found himself nestling into the crook of the omega’s neck, protecting his scent gland. Maybe just as Kazue had not so long ago. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Izuku buried himself a little more under the alpha. “And… thank you, Katsuki.”

The alpha grumbled out a satisfied growl. “Anytime.”

- - -

Katsuki wasn’t expecting to sleep through the night, but when he peeled his eyes open, he found the clock read that they’d slept a full seven hours somehow. Izuku had buried himself more under Katsuki, meaning the omega was practically beneath the alpha, the two tangled up in familiar ways. It was admittedly still strange waking up with the omega beside him, but Katsuki would never say it was unwelcome.

He rubbed against the omega, hoping to wake him. Izuku stubbornly slept on. “Hey. Time to get up.”

Izuku flinched, his upper lip lifting toward a growl.

“C’mon. We should check in on Kazue.”

That had Izuku stirring immediately. He pushed himself out from under Katsuki, looked around, as if startled the pup wasn’t there. Luckily, he didn’t panic, instead just quickly getting out of bed and throwing on some clothes. Katsuki, having done nothing more than simply pulling his shirt off during the night, retrieved said shirt and slipped it back on before following the omega’s quick steps out of the room and down the hall.

Katsuki’s door was still open, the betas piled up on top of each other in a strange tangle of limbs that would put even Katsuki’s and Izuku’s sleeping patterns to shame. On top of both of them, curled up as if having conquered both of them, Kazue only stirred when Izuku approached and he got a whiff of his omega’s scent.

“Hey, firecracker,” Izuku whispered, picking him up and pressing him to his chest, the pup whining until he was settled against him. “Time to get up. You want some breakfast?”

The pup grumbled something unintelligible as Katsuki also entered the room. He stared down at the two betas, half tempted to scream at them to get the hell out. He settled for flicking Kirishima in the forehead, the head beta jerking awake at the contact.

“Oi, get up and get out of my room, would you?”

The beta blinked at Katsuki, eyes roaming around, clearly piecing together where he was and what had happened. With a groan, he sat up, nudging Mina awake as well. As the two betas slowly got up, Katsuki snapped his jaws. “Wash those sheets,” he said, and stomped away, aware that Izuku followed him.

Halfway to the staircase, he paused, held out his arms. “Weight limit.”

Izuku blinked, his eyebrows slowly scrunching together. With a sigh, he gave Kazue over to Katsuki, the pup not reacting to the change of arms he found himself in, especially when Izuku tickled his nose affectionately.

As they made their way downstairs, a nagging feeling started to spread in Katsuki’s chest. The thought of Izuku’s weight limit had sprung other ideas in his head. Namely, that now that Yokoyama was gone and there was potentially no active threats against the omega’s life, that once he was out of that cast and without a weight limit, he would be ready to go home. He would be ready to leave.

Katsuki tightened his grip on Kazue, shifted the pup to hide his discomfort, but still caught a strange glance from Izuku.

In the kitchen, they found Uraraka scrambling some eggs while Fumiko rocked back and forth on her heels, talking on and on about something, though Katsuki couldn’t quite tell what.

When she spotted Kazue, she squealed, “Ah! Kaz! Kaz! Come play!”

Kazue glared down at the younger pup. “Breakfast.” He grumbled.

Fumiko stomped her feet. “Play first, breakfast later.”

“Breakfast.”

“Play.”

The pups glared at each other, neither willing to give up their stance. As they did, Katsuki saw Izuku and Uraraka share a look, though he wasn’t sure why.

He set Kazue down. “Go play while we cook breakfast. We’ll call you when it’s done.”

The pup wrinkled his nose up at Katsuki, but was stopped when Fumiko leaped forward to grab his arm and yank him out of the room, still jabbering on and on about either everything or nothing at all.

While the pups went off to play, Uraraka giggled. “Good morning you two! Did you sleep okay after your shower?”

“Yeah,” Izuku scratched at his back, yawned fully, Katsuki again catching sight of that damned broken tooth. “Kazue slept in Katsuki’s room with Kirishima and Mina. That was weird. I’ve never slept away from him. Except, well, you know, being in the hospital.”

“Oh yeah, I wouldn’t think about you not being away from Kazue so much. Iida and I pretty much split being with Fumiko. It’s kind of rare for both of us to sleep in the same bed at night with our hero schedules.”

As the omegas continued the conversation, Katsuki went to start cooking breakfast for the three of them.

“That must be hard,” Izuku said.

Uraraka shrugged, moving over slightly to accommodate Katsuki. “Not really. You get used to it pretty quickly. Plus, I’ve got Iida and he really is fantastic with Fumiko. So that does help.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess it would.” Katsuki swore he felt holes being burned into his back, but that might have just been his paranoia. “Well, anyway, it is something I need to start doing soon. Kazue is four now and he can’t sleep in my bed forever.”

“Sorry to say I don’t have many tips on that. I think Togata and Amajiki have separate rooms of their little ones. Maybe they’d know some tricks?”

“Yeah, maybe. Amajiki was very nice.”

“He’s shy, but super sweet. He’d be willing to talk with you.”

“Uh, yeah, I got that impression of him,” there was a secret smile in Izuku’s voice that Katsuki pointedly ignored. “Anyway, I was wondering if you— oh!”

“Good morning,” the new voice, a groan from Yaoyorozu, interrupted the two omegas, though just as Katsuki sensed Uraraka turn to greet her, all three of them in the room shifted, tensed, all their muscles tightening in a short spasm.

All at once, they turned toward Yaoyorozu, who had also gone rigid, but only in response to the sudden tension in the room. Her pupils were pinpoints, trying to trace the source of the disturbance in the three of them, though unable to find it, even as they all turned to face her. “What? What’s wrong?” She asked sharply, quickly, alarm flooding her voice.

Katsuki didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his place to. Instead, he waited, watched as Uraraka slowly came forward. The omega reached for Yaoyorozu’s hands, cupped them between hers, smiled at the alpha, who was clearly on edge, not quite having figured out what was happening.

“Momo,” the omega spoke softly, her voice wavering, as if on the verge of tears. But she still smiled up at the alpha. “You’re pregnant.”

The female alpha went very still, eyes darting between the two omegas and the other alpha in the room. She couldn’t smell it herself, but there was no denying the new pup-scent about her. It was a distinct smell, one that no doubt had been building for a couple of weeks now. Her scent changed only a little compared to when Uraraka had been pregnant, but it was still there, that taste of milk and sugar, a small deviation from her normally bubbly and focused scent.

Slowly, Yaoyorozu’s hands drifted to her stomach, to press against it. Though still flat, she would be carrying the start of a new life under her fingers. Another small miracle granted to their pack.
Uraraka stepped back, still smiling brightly. “I’ll go get Todoroki up. You just wait right here.”

Yaoyorozu didn’t seem to notice as the omega hurried off. She just kept staring down at her stomach, as if expecting to see some sign of what Uraraka had said. As she stared, Izuku carefully came forward. The alpha startled at his approach, so he paused a few feet from her, also smiling, a little tilt to his head.

“Congratulations, Yaoyorozu. I’m so happy for you.”

The female alpha still didn’t react. Somehow, Katsuki knew what she was thinking. She was thinking about Takahiro. But she was also thinking about the pup she’d never gotten to meet. She was thinking about the small life blossoming between her hands, wondering if she’d ever get a chance to welcome them into the world.

Those thoughts were cut short as Todoroki skidded into the room, alarm paling his face, already talking even before he’d come to a stop. “What happened? Momo, what’s going—” he stopped just as suddenly as the others, as his mate’s new scent washed over him, as he understood exactly what was going on.

Yaoyorozu didn’t say anything. In fact, she curled in on herself a little, a little tremble to her lips. That tremble vanished when Todoroki took her hand, when he pulled her close. When he gave her a rare and meaningful smile.

“Good morning, Momo,” he said, as if it was just that simple.

His mate paused, took in his words, and smiled back. “Good morning, Shoto.”

It was a quiet moment. But a beautiful one. Katsuki remembered when they’d been pregnant with Takahiro, the female alpha had cried and panicked, convinced she was going to lose her second child as well. That memory had been burned into the pack, a moment of upheaval and worry and directionless panic. What he wanted to remember instead was this, this quiet moment, this joyful exchange, two mates reaffirming each other in so little words.

An arm wrapped around him as Izuku slid next to him, watching the two, a satisfied smile on his lips. In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about Yokoyama. He wasn’t thinking about his hurt. He wasn’t thinking about anything, maybe. He was just in the moment with them, watching as Yaoyorozu and Todoroki held each other, reveled in the realization of what had happened.

Without thinking much about it, Katsuki pressed a kiss to Izuku’s head, heard the omega purr in response. It truly was a beautiful moment. It wasn’t even spoiled when Iida eventually appeared and began announcing the news with tears in his eyes and with a pitch scream to his voice, as the pack rallied around their alpha pair, as they celebrated a life to come. As the pack pulled both him and Izuku in, as they accepted Izuku as much as Izuku accepted them in that moment of pure bliss.

In the bliss of the moment, he didn’t think anything could ever spoil this wonderful mood.

- - -

Three hours later, Katsuki received a text from Tsukauchi. It was short, to the point, but it still made a shiver crawl up his spine.

Report for duty tomorrow morning, 7 sharp. New details: we believe Yokoyama wasn’t working alone.

Chapter Text

Katsuki slept in his own room, by himself, so not to disturb Izuku and Kazue with having to get up for the early meeting. In truth, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep much and didn’t want to keep Izuku up. The omega was still floating off the amazing news, still caught in the uplifted atmosphere of the pack. The last thing he wanted to do was change that for him. So he said nothing, and he stayed in his own bed that night.

Arriving at the police station that early was a first, but Katsuki was eager to get it over with. Whatever information Tsukauchi had, he wanted it all. He needed to know just how serious this was, just how big of a threat was still out there. But mostly, he needed to know if Izuku and Kazue were still in danger. He needed the confirmation one way or the other before he decided on a thought that had been stewing in his head for weeks now, ever since the news that Yokoyama had visited Aoki’s store. Hell, maybe he’d been thinking about it beforehand, upon first entering the omega’s apartment.

But first, he needed to know just how serious of a situation they were in.

Upon entering the building, he didn’t pause at the front desk and the heavily mascaraed receptionist didn’t bat an eye at him. He went straight past the bustling desks of the detectives and officers and went immediately to the conference room that had become so familiar to him in recent weeks. Tsukauchi was already there, skimming through a police file. Ito was there as well, along with several other officers who had been a part of the investigation. As always, a quiet murmur ran through those gathered at Katsuki’s appearance, alerting both Tsukauchi and Ito to his arrival. The detective gave him a little smile, maybe a smirk, while the inspector snapped his file shut and crossed the room to greet him.

“Ground Zero. Thanks for coming on such short notice,” he held out his hand.

Katsuki lifted his lip in a growl. “What did you find?”

Tsukauchi let his hand drop, nodded toward the table at the center of the room. “We’ll get started in a moment.”

Without saying another word, Katsuki dropped into one of the chairs. He was unsurprised when soon after, Ito took the one next to him.

“Hello again. How are you holding up?” Katsuki stared forward, but never one to be deterred that easily, the detective continued, “How’s Midoriya?”

Katsuki snapped his teeth together. “What’s it to you?”

“Well, I do want to see him recover from all of this,” Ito sat back, watched as the others took spots at the table around them, as Tsukauchi stood at the head of the room, file open again, reading through it. A sudden gleam entered the detective’s eyes and Katsuki swore he could hear the click of his teeth. “Nobody deserves to have this happen to them.”

Katsuki rolled the words over slowly, piecing through each of them. Eventually, he growled, “What really happened to your face?”

Not surprised by his question, Ito chuckled. “Can’t believe I have one mean of an old man?”

“If you did, you wouldn’t be admitting that to your law enforcement coworkers.” It was something that had been bothering Katsuki since the previous day. The fact that Ito had so openly condemned his own father for the attack. He didn’t really know why the thought had been circling his head. But it had. “Would have been simpler to just say it happened on the job. Which means you got that as a result of something really bad. You’re just hoping the story about your dad is bad enough that nobody will question it.”

Ito listened to him, never losing his half smirk. When Katsuki finished, he nodded, laughed. “Not bad for a hero. You don’t have a bad mind behind all the screaming and explosions. Wouldn’t make a bad detective yourself if you could stop being so angry all the time.”

Katsuki felt his face flinch toward a snarl. “You going to deflect some more or answer my question?”

“Deflect, unfortunately. It happened in the course of my personal life and I don’t feel the need to share anymore than I already have. But I do appreciate the concern.” The detective’s smirk remained, but Katsuki could see something hidden just underneath it. Perhaps it was nervousness. Perhaps something else. Whatever it was, it was hidden enough that he couldn’t quite tell what to make of it, nor did he have time to question Ito further, as Tsukauchi cleared his throat to call everyone’s attention.

Then, Katsuki didn’t care what Ito had to say anymore.

All he cared about was when the inspector lifted his chin and said, “We’re all here. Let’s begin.”

- - -

After all was said and done, Katsuki opted to change out of his costume at the police station and take the train directly home. It gave him a chance to just stand there, clasping the handhold over his head, thinking over what had been said.

First and foremost, what Katsuki thought over most was Tsukauchi’s assessment of the risk against Izuku. The truth was, they couldn’t say there was no risk. With Yokoyama dead, the known threat was gone, which only meant there was an unknown risk from whoever his partner was. While it was unclear whether this partner had ever been involved with what had happened to Izuku, they couldn’t ignore the fact that the omega was the only one who’d gotten away. He and Kazue were the only loose threads. For that fact alone, they would remain in danger until the alpha’s partner was found and caught.

That being said, Tsukauchi did say he expected Izuku to be fairly safe enough to go out in public places alone, so long as he remained in crowded area. Whoever this partner was seemed to be more cautious and less likely to be as bold as Yokoyama had been. So the threat wasn’t as present, but it wasn’t completely gone. The inspector had said it was probably not a smart idea for Izuku to return to his apartment alone yet. But given some time, and if they could find Yokoyama’s partner, he would probably be able to go back eventually.

It wasn’t fantastic news, but it was something.

As for Yokoyama’s partner, they had almost nothing. The speculation was that the partner had been the one to kill Yokoyama, maybe during a spat. Ito had suggested it had to do with the pup. Yokoyama had shown very little interest in Kazue, but he had tossed the pup around when he’d tried to interfere. It was plausible he’d accidentally killed the pup and his partner had killed him for it in return.

Ito’s second theory was the one that had Katsuki’s teeth grinding. The detective had suggested that Yokoyama hadn’t been the one to kill the omega. While little was known about her yet, the results had come in – she hadn’t been raped. And the alpha had never used a weapon such as the knife before. Ito’s thought was that Yokoyama had killed the pup, his partner had killed him in return, then they had murdered the omega. What didn’t quite sit right with Katsuki was how she had been killed. The omega had been hacked nearly to pieces. There was rage in the killing. Meaning whoever Yokoyama’s partner was did have a stake in what happened to the omegas, at least to some degree. They weren’t completely ambivalent.

There were parts of his theories that Katsuki ascribed to, mostly doing with the pups. Yokoyama’s behavior had always suggested a strange detachment from the pups despite their being seemingly integral to his operations. But if he was handling the pups to the benefit of his partner, it made a lot more sense. It also explained why nobody had been able to locate the pups yet. Whoever this partner was must have them squirreled away somewhere. Although their ultimate fate was unknown, the fact that the partner was seemingly upset enough at Yokoyama for killing one to murder him in return was good news. It seemed the partner wanted them alive. And that was good.

Or at least as good as this fucked up situation got.

Tsukauchi’s theories were similar to Ito’s, though the inspector thought that Yokoyama was part of a larger organization, that he was killed for being too public. After all, the news had recently picked up on the attack at a prominent hero packhouse. They’d managed to keep Izuku and Kazue out of the news, but Tsukauchi had taken the opportunity to plaster Yokoyama’s face over every news network that would listen to him. If Yokoyama was part of a larger organization, then he would be a liability to them with so much publicity. Despite their differing ideas, Tsukauchi did agree with Ito on Yokoyama’s partner or partners being the ones interested in the pups. The omegas were just a means to an end, a way to get what they really wanted, and Yokoyama’s interest in them was just another convenience to the larger group. So it had worked out. Until Yokoyama’s missteps.

Katsuki wasn’t really sure which theory he believed most. It was difficult for him to put much thought one way or the other, because in the end, it didn’t really matter to him who Yokoyama’s partner or partners were. He only wanted them stopped, no matter the cost.

He thought maybe his priorities with Izuku and Kazue might be getting in his way of how he was thinking about the case. But he also knew that he’d had biases since the beginning. He’d be fooling himself to say otherwise. Nor did he really think he wanted to change it or could change it. His priority would always be the omega and pup. Nothing could get anywhere close to the importance of their health and safety.

An announcement went over the train, calling out his station. Katsuki took stock of those around him, checked his phone. There was a new message from Izuku saying he was still planning on going to the mall with the omegas, Kaminari, and Yaoyorozu in a few hours, asking if he was sure it was okay for him to pick up a couple of things for Kazue with his credit card. Katsuki responded saying yes, it was fine, and letting him know he’d be home soon. Then, the doors opened and he stepped off onto the station.

It was still a bit of a walk from the station to the packhouse, but Katsuki kept his eyes forward and his mind turning over what had been said during the meeting. As much as he thought about it though, there wasn’t much more he could add to what had already been said. For as much as he didn’t like to admit it, he was little more than a soldier in this. A dog pointed in a direction to sniff out the monsters. He wasn’t out there collecting the information or digging into it. He was just being told what he needed to be done. So no, there wasn’t much more he could do with the information given.

What he could do was use it to keep Izuku and Kazue safe. He doubted the omega would wander into unfamiliar or uncrowded areas, nor did he think for a second that the pack would let him go out alone, but it would be good to make sure he understood that even though Yokoyama was gone, the threat was still present. He just really didn’t know how he was going to break that news. A simple phone call wasn’t going to work this time.

Once he’d digested everything that had been said, he set it away, let it start to stew in the back of his mind. Even if he wasn’t thinking about it in that moment, there was no way he wasn’t going to be completely unaware of it, and maybe something would come of that. Obsessing wasn’t going to help any. And besides, there was something else that had started to creep into the front of his mind.

A drawer, with a single key in it. It had remained closed for longer than he cared to admit. Like a tomb sealed away. Maybe it was time to kick open that tomb. Maybe now was the right moment to face it.

Another text came through. Katsuki thought about ignoring it, but picked his phone up. It was a photo. Of Izuku and Kazue, the pup smushing his cheeks between his hands in a goofy face with the omega smiling and laughing, trying to take the photo. For some reason, the sight alone caught Katsuki off guard, had him coming to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

They looked… so happy. So carefree. They were just in the moment. Having fun with one another. It felt unreal that this photo had been taken after all that had happened. After the attack and nearly dying and coming to live at the packhouse. Katsuki could almost imagine the wall behind them was not from the packhouse, but from Izuku’s tiny apartment. That this photo captured a happy moment in simpler times. Times before all of this.

Times before Katsuki had reentered their life.

He didn’t know why that thought occurred to him in that moment, but it did, and it crashed onto him like the sky had fallen onto his back. The thought that Izuku and Kazue had been happier without him. That things had been better before he showed up.

Then, another text came through.

Kazue said this is his “Kacchan angry face.”

And somehow, those words were even more perfect than the photo of the omega and pup.

Katsuki stared at his phone until the screen went black. Then he kept walking home.

- - -

Upon opening the front door, Katsuki was immediately assailed by a loud shriek just before something leaped at him. On reflex, he went to knock it away, realized it was Kazue, screamed “FUCK!” and scrambled to catch the pup. While he successfully wrapped Kazue up, he did trip in the process and ended up sprawled out on his back, the pup curled in his arms. Panic had his heart racing just as Kazue dug his way out, a grin on his face.

He pressed a finger to the alpha’s nose, “Kacchan, you said a bad word again.”

“Oooh, you know what we call that?” Kirishima’s voice was not a welcome sound in this moment. The beta was grinning at him from the couch. “It’s called pup instincts! I’ve seen both Iida and Todoroki do the exact same thing. Except, you know, without your signature profanity.”

Katsuki growled, laying his head back, until he felt Kazue crawl off him and someone loomed over him. When he opened his eyes, he found Izuku leaned over him, offering a hand.

“Good catch. But seriously, you need to work on your language.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Katsuki reached for the omega’s hand, froze suddenly.

Izuku blinked, recoiling. “What?”

Katsuki didn’t really know what to say. There probably weren’t words for what he wanted to say. So he just reached out, past Izuku’s hand, up to his neck. To the bandages now missing, Katsuki realizing they had been so present since he’d reunited with the omega that he’d stopped noticing them there. Or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to see them. Hadn’t wanted to be reminded of what was under them. And now, his fingers brushed over unbroken skin, a small mark left as the only remainder of the horrific injuries Izuku had suffered.

As Katsuki’s fingers trailed over his neck, Izuku tensed, flinched away. So Katsuki drew back, took the omega’s hand, pushed himself off the ground. After a pause, Izuku helped him.

Once back on his feet, Kazue wrapped his arms around the alpha’s leg, laughing.

“Mommy says we’re going to play today!”

Katsuki gave Izuku a questioning look, the omega shrugging.

“I thought I’d leave Kazue here while I went shopping.”

Katsuki still paused, looking the omega up and down. It would be the first time he would be away from Kazue since the hospital. Sleeping apart had been one thing – after all they’d only been a hallway away. Now he was thinking about leaving Kazue and going out in public without him. “Are you sure?”

The omega’s lips pulled into a thin line. “I’ll… feel okay if he’s with you.”

Still unconvinced, he searched Izuku for any signs of too much stress. While he seemed uncomfortable, he wasn’t overly upset. And while Katsuki didn’t particularly like seeing him like this, he recognized that this was Izuku trying, stretching outside his comfort zone, toeing the line of comfort and safety he’d been keeping behind since waking up in the hospital. That he needed this moment to just try doing something, anything, that could feel a little like normal.

So he reached down, ruffled the pup’s hair. “We’ll have lots of fun, pup.” Kazue yipped at him, grabbing his hand and tugging at him. The alpha caught a smile spreading over Izuku’s face. “When are you leaving?”

That smile caught, turned into a bit of a smirk. “What? Can’t wait to get rid of me?”

Katsuki flinched.

Izuku did as well, seemed to catch himself, glancing around the room. Kirishima, who had been watching, quickly looked away, shifting awkwardly. Even Kazue stopped tugging at his arm, his head tilted to the side.

“Uh, sorry,” the omega muttered. “I… didn’t mean it like that.”

Katsuki ran a hand over the back of his neck. “When are you leaving?”

“Hour or two?”

He nodded. “Come talk to me in the dining room.”

Izuku blinked. “Now?”

“Give me a few minutes.” Katsuki turned to Kazue, pulling him into his arms, the pup giggling. “Get a cup of coffee or something and meet me there. I have something I want to talk about.”

“Okay,” Izuku seemed to search him, for clues, for answers, for something. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Katsuki went over to the couch and dropped Kazue into the beta’s lap, Kazue growling playfully until Kirishima began tickling him, the pup breaking out into uncontrollable laughter.

With the pup settled, Katsuki passed by Izuku, brushing a hand over his shoulder. “I’ll meet you in the dining room.”

“All right.” Izuku didn’t flinch at his touch this time, but Katsuki knew not to press his luck.

He went immediately upstairs and to his room. And when he got there, he found he couldn’t move anymore.

The reality of what he was about to do was pressing down on him, keeping him in that spot. But it was something he wanted to do. For as painful as it might be.

It still took him a moment to breathe, to steel himself, to steady his resolve, to cross that room and grab the handle of the tomb long since sealed in his dresser. It took him even longer to finally pull the drawer open. When he did, he didn’t look inside. He just grabbed the key, shoved it into his pocket, and shut it again. The key was cold in his palm. It didn’t quite fit there. It was too small. It felt fragile. He imagined he felt it breaking between his fingers.

He went back downstairs without thinking about that anymore.

Izuku was alone in the dining room, nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling through something on his phone, though he set it down when Katsuki walked in the room. He offered the alpha a cup of his own, which Katsuki took only to set aside, dropping into the seat next to him.

“I’m going to say something that’s going to be piss you off.”

For a moment, Izuku just stared. Then, his eyebrows creased, coming together to form a V. “Or you could not?”

“I hate that apartment you were living in.”

Immediately, he saw the omega bristling. Saw the anger and indignation written plainly on his face. Knew that, if given the opportunity, he would lay into Katsuki. So Katuski didn’t give him that opportunity.

“It’s too small for the two of you, it’s in a weird place in the city, and it’s really far from the packhouse. That last point is selfish of me, I know, but it’s been bothering me.”

“Katsuki, do you really want to—”

Katsuki slammed the key onto the table between them, lifted his palm so the omega could see it. Izuku glared down at it, then up at him. Somehow, the alpha found he couldn’t meet his gaze.

“It’s going to take a little time, but if you decide to leave the packhouse, then I want you to go live at my parents’ house.”

Izuku stared down at the key, thin-lipped, skeptical. “Is this a joke?”

“No.”

“Why would— first of all, why did you just—” he pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath. “Okay, why would I go live at your parents’ house? Have you been talking with them about this? You hadn’t mentioned them so I thought you weren’t on speaking terms after school—”

“My parents are dead.”

The words slipped out, those four words he never really let himself think about. He’d felt them crawling around his stomach before he’d promptly vomited them out. And now that they’d been said, he wasn’t sure how to follow them up, wasn’t sure how to explain it away, wasn’t sure what else there really was left to say. Izuku, too, was stunned, half-frozen in the middle of this sentence, realization slowly dawning on him.

Katsuki ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Car crash. Some drunk asshole.”

“Oh,” Izuku’s voice shook slightly, more than a hint of grief in his voice. He reached for Katsuki, seemingly without thinking, took his hand. “I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Katsuki shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve said anything about it.”

“Yeah, but… you knew about my Mom… and I didn’t….” He stared at their hands, paused, hesitantly began intertwining them, one finger sliding together at a time. “When did they…?”

“About three years ago.”

Another bell of realization immediately went off in Izuku’s eyes. “Right around the time you fell out of the ranks?”

“Yeah. Though that was mostly unrelated. Didn’t help any though.” Katsuki paused, flicked the key closer to Izuku. “Anyway. The house has been mostly abandoned since then. So it needs some attention before you and Kazue could move in. But it’s in a safe neighborhood, good schools for Kazue, it’s a place you know. And it’s not too far from the packhouse. So I’d rather you and Kazue go live there then your old apartment.”

Even as he talked, he was aware that Izuku was still caught up in the revelation of what had happened, still trying to process everything. He stared at the key, a strange light in his eyes, though he kept his and Katsuki’s hands intertwined.

The silence between them made his skin crawl, so Katsuki found himself talking again, “I know you worked hard for what you have. I get there’s some pride in that. But I’d feel better if you two were somewhere a little more… well more.”

Immediately, Izuku snapped out of his trance. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

Katsuki growled. “It’s what I feel.”

The omega glared hard at him, then turned his attention back to the key. He chewed at his lip, returned his glare to Katsuki. “Well, what would your plan be?”

“I can call contractors today to check out any—”

“No. I mean, if Kazue and I went to live at the house, or even back at my apartment, then where would you go? Would you stay here? Would you want to come with us?”

It was a question Katsuki was surprised he didn’t have an answer for. He’d been so focused on getting the omega and pup somewhere safe, he’d never considered where he would be. And not to mention, he wasn’t really sure what Izuku was asking. Did he want Katsuki to come with them? Was it an invitation? Something to gauge his commitment? But what about the pack? He was second in command. It couldn’t be possible for him to just leave and move into an entirely different house, right?

“Well,” Katsuki struggled to find the right words for a moment before eventually saying, “I think… that would have to be a conversation we would have later.”

Izuku rolled those words around long enough that the alpha was convinced they must be the wrong ones to say. He was so convinced that he was absolutely shocked when the omega eventually asked, “You’re not going to pawn this off as being a courting gift, right?”

“Uh, no.” He felt assured at least in saying that. “I may not know a whole lot about courting, but I’m pretty confident offering an entire house falls outside of normal court gifting rituals.”

“Well, I’m glad we at least agree on that,” Izuku laughed.

“Besides, I’ve got your next gift ready already.”

The omega looked a little shocked. “Already?”

“Yeah.”

“But… you just gave me that jacket. And you told me to consider this shopping trip a courting gift too.”

“Yeah, so? I wanted to get you something else.”

Izuku shook his head. “All right. But you know I don’t need a bunch of gifts.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I intend to spoil you completely rotten?”

A grin slowly spread over the omega’s lips. “As many times as it takes to sink in.”

Katsuki sat back with a groan. “Guess I’ll be saying it for the rest of my life.”

The omega laughed, caught up in the moment. And that moment was a good moment, a happy one. Even if the key was still laid between them, a question mark, a reminder, something neither of them could ignore forever. Even if in that moment, they made sure to keep their hands from touching it.

- - -

As much as Katsuki knew he was going to worry about Izuku being out of the house and out in public and without him there, he turned all that anxiety into focusing on playing with Kazue. The pup had endless energy, which he knew but was ever shocked by. Hours later, Katsuki found himself laid on the couch, Kazue sitting on his chest, playing absently with two of the hero figures from his and Izuku’s room. He played mostly by himself, though every now and then, he would poke at Katsuki’s face to make sure the alpha was still awake, earning a growl in return every time he did. It was in this state that the group found them when they returned, laughing amongst themselves.

“Kazue!” Izuku’s voice had the pup leaping up, Katsuki groaning at the sudden weight change on his body.

“Mommy!” The pup leaped off the back of the couch, Izuku immediately throwing his arms out to catch him.

“Firecracker, you can’t do that!”

Kazue squirmed to be higher in his omega’s arms, then poked at his nose. “Mommy, I missed you.”

Through the fog of his initial panic, something satisfied settled into Izuku’s body and he sighed. “I missed you too. But please don’t jump off the furniture anymore.” The pup chirped, but whether it was an agreement or just a happy noise remained unclear. “Did you have fun with Katsuki?”

Even at his name, Katsuki did not feel any immediate need to rise up from the couch.

“Kacchan sleepy,” the pup replied, matter-of-factly.

“Oh?”

Katsuki felt someone coming to stand over him, opened his eyes to find Izuku there with Kazue in his arms. He groaned, sat up, reached to take the pup. “Weight limit.”

The omega frowned deeply, but relinquished Kazue without a fight. “So I’m guessing today went well for you two?”

Katsuki growled shortly, paused as Kazue tried to climb up onto his head, pulling the pup away in response. “Yeah. It was fun.” Izuku laughed as Katsuki gently set Kazue back down on the couch, the pup leaping off and going straight back to Izuku, tugging at his pants with a whine, though the omega only reached down to stroke his head. “How was shopping?”

“Good. I can get the receipts from the bags. Kaminari brought my stuff in.”

“Well at least someone’s watching out for your weight limit,” Katsuki growled as Izuku led him upstairs, toward where the others had disappeared to.

“Oh, they took very good care of me.” Despite having Kazue still hanging from his leg, Izuku somehow managed to keep walking forward, even if his pace was slowed somewhat. The pup was having quite a bit of a fun trying to keep him from moving at all, though he stopped when they reached the staircase and Izuku gave him a sharp look. He settled for grabbing Izuku’s hand, then Katsuki’s, the three slowly climbing the stairs together.

At the top, Kazue shook his hands free and raced back toward their room, flinging the door open and leaping onto the bed, already rifling through the bags Kaminari had left there. To Katsuki’s surprise, there was only a couple. He’d expected Izuku would pick up several things for Kazue and himself while out, though it seemed he hadn’t, either through guilt of using Katsuki’s card or because he was still in the old habits of just getting the essentials. It was going to be tough breaking him of those habits. But this was a start.

As they entered the room, Kazue began yanking a large, green, fluffy blanket from inside the larger of the bags, though Izuku quickly grabbed it and stopped him.

“Mommy, what’s that?”

“It’s for me, firecracker.”

“It’s soft!”

“Yup,” the omega pulled out a slip of paper, then another, and a final one, all of which he handed to Katsuki. “I, uh, hope it wasn’t too much.”

One glance at the totals told Katsuki the omega had primarily shopped in the clearance section. Which wasn’t a bad thing. But it still irked some small part of his brain, some strange pride that felt a little squashed by Izuku’s carefulness with his shopping. The two most expensive things, by far, were a new pair of shoes for Kazue and a single item from a heat shop. It seemed Izuku had gotten a high quality nesting blanket. Katsuki was happy he’d at least splurged a little during the trip.

While he inspected the receipts, Izuku pulled out the box of shoes and showed Kazue, who ran his hand over the detailing on the sides.

“Mommy, I love them!”

“I’m glad you do, firecracker. You want to put them on and make sure they fit?”

“Yes!”

Izuku helped Kazue put the shoes on, made sure they fit, then told him to go walk around in them to see how they felt. When the pup immediately sprinted out of the room, he sighed, watching him race down the entire length of the packhouse from the hallway.

He did glance at Katsuki while Kazue tested out his new shoes. “Is… everything okay?”

“Yes,” Katsuki folded the receipts, pocketed them. “You could have gotten more.”

“Well you didn’t give me a budget so I wasn’t sure.”

“Rest assured, Izuku, if you shopped me into bankruptcy in one day, I’d be impressed.”

“Don’t tempt me.” The joke actually cracked a smile on both their lips. Then Kazue came crashing back into the room, jumping up and down and talking about how much he loved his new shoes.

- - -

While Izuku and Kazue got things unpacked and settled in their room, Katsuki went back downstairs to make coffee for the two of them. Iida’s afternoon coffee rule be damned, he sure as hell needed one after spending so much time with Kazue and he thought it might be nice to share a cup with Izuku after being apart for the day. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he hadn’t particularly liked the omega going out in public without him, even if his very capable pack members had been with him. The case was still crawling at his spine, the facts of Yokoyama having at least one partner and what the partner had done to their last victim made him want to break something.

But nothing had happened and from what he could tell, Izuku had enjoyed his time out shopping. It had been a good experience, a good step forward, and Katsuki had gotten to spend some time alone with Kazue, an opportunity he wouldn’t have passed up for the world even if it had been absolutely exhausting. So, no, this hadn’t been a terrible thing. Even if his skin still didn’t feel quite right.

As much as he was distracted by his thoughts and the noise of the coffee pot, he didn’t miss the soft footsteps entering the kitchen, turning over his shoulder to find Izuku carefully making his way over. In the light streaming through the windows, he looked a bit ethereal. Like Katsuki had imagined all that had happened, like he was simply a mirage from a past life. But when he stepped out of the light, he remained, solid, present, though he was buzzing with a nervous energy that didn’t help the feeling crawling up his arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” the omega shook his head. “Why do you assume something is wrong every time I come to see you?”

Katsuki paused, tried to think back to the times Izuku had come to see him, how he had at almost every time asked him that exact question. He turned back to the coffee pot. “Habit, I guess.”

“You going to ask me now if I need something?”

“Do you?”

“No. I would ask if I did.” The omega leaned against the counter nearby, tilted his head toward the alpha. “I, uh, wanted to thank you for the courting gift.”Katsuki paused, trying to remember if he’d already given Izuku his third gift, heard a laugh from his side. “You know, the shopping trip? You did try to make the excuse that it was just a courting gift.”

“Oh.” Katsuki hid his fidgetiness by reaching for the coffee mugs. “Right. You want a cup?”

“Uh, sure.” Izuku shifted slightly.

The growing nervousness between them was just irritating Katsuki, an itch he wasn’t really sure how to itch. He glared at the coffee pot, wishing it would work faster. “That nesting blanket looked nice.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve, um, never really gotten a dedicated nesting blanket before.”

“Really?”

“No. I just… used some old blankets and clothes. Baby clothes are nice and soft and Kazue grew out of them so quickly, they were either going into my nest or get thrown away.” He shrugged. “It was fine. Like I said before, I don’t keep a nest very often anyway.”

“Still.” Katsuki growled, scratched his jaw to keep from snapping. “Well, whatever. You have some real nesting stuff now. And we can get you some more later.”

“Y-yeah.” Izuku played with his fingers, stared down at them. Katsuki wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he wasn’t quite sure how to ask that question. So he glared forward at the coffee pot, feeling the tension rising between them until the omega snapped it with a few words, “Umm, Katsuki?”

“Yeah?”

“I was, uh, thinking,” he shifted, Katsuki looking to meet his gaze, though he was staring resolutely at the floor. “I know it’s been, umm, a little rocky, during this courting…,” he paused and in that pause, Katsuki felt his stomach dropping. He somehow knew the words were coming, the rejection he’d long been fearing, and standing here before it, he didn’t know how to react, how to cope, with it finally having come true. But Izuku kept playing with his hands, and he smiled, and it made Katsuki pause, made him hold his breath, “And even though it’s been a bit strange, I’ve, uh, really enjoyed it. Hanging out with you again. The jacket. Dancing was nice. You’re really trying and I see that and I appreciate it.”

He fell silent and in that silence, Katsuki felt the expectation of his response. For as unsure as he was, he was very certain in what he said next, “I told you I was serious about wanting to court you. We never did do that right when we were kids. Maybe if we had, things would have turned out different.” He paused as the coffee pot dinged. His hands kept busy by preparing their coffees as he spoke, “I don’t intend to make those mistakes again. I don’t know if it’s too late for us or if it’s just not meant to be, but I wanted to try again and I wanted to try to do it right.”

“Well, despite everything, I think you’ve done a good job of it.” Izuku accepted the coffee when Katsuki offered it, but almost immediately set it back down. “Thank you, for what you’ve done. It hasn’t gone unappreciated.”

“Anything, Izuku. Anything, anytime.” It was easier to focus on his coffee. The omega’s nervousness and his discomfort were making his palms itch. The warmth of the mug helped a little.

“I, uh, know you’ve done a lot for me already, but I wanted to ask for something.”

He wasn’t really sure why a task was what helped to ease the tension, helped him to meet the omega’s gaze, though Izuku was still staring at his hands. “Of course. What do you need?”

“I’d… like…,” he swallowed. Shifted.

Katsuki wasn’t sure what it was, but as they stood there, something change. Izuku stopped playing his hands, let them drop to his side. He frowned deeply, then looked up, met Katsuki’s eyes, something steely and determined in him. It was such a sudden change that Katsuki stiffened, unsure what was going to happen next, halfway convinced the omega might still want to break up with him.

And then, “Katsuki, I’d like you to scent me.”

A new silence crept between them. A heart-pounding, not-so quiet silence. Katsuki found himself unsure how to react, unsure what to do. It seemed like such a simple request. But he knew what it really meant. That the omega was asking for a progression in their relationship. That he was asking for more. And he wasn’t really sure what to do now.

The longer he just stood there, the more that steely look started to fade from Izuku’s eyes. “That is… if you’re comfortable with that. I mean, if you’re not ready—”

“No, it’s not that, I just…,” Katsuki rubbed the back of his neck, searched for the words that always seemed to escape him. “Are… are you sure about this, Izuku?”

Izuku snorted, shook his head. Somehow, his words helped the omega to relax, had him leaning back slightly, a little, familiar slump to his posture. “You know, I know that consent is sexy and all that, but seriously, Katsuki, if I say yes the first time, you don’t need to keep asking. Kind of kills the mood if you’re too busy just making sure I want what I’ve already told you I do. I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.”

“But I—”

“If you want this, then I’m telling you it’s okay.” When they’d been kids, it had always been a teasing sort of exchange. A hint, a little nudge, and a joke to lead the way. And, he supposed, things hadn’t changed. That this was still their song and dance. And it was familiar. And it was comforting. But what was different, was when the omega stepped closer, when he took the cup from Katsuki’s hands to set aside. When he reached to make the first touch, a few fingers along the alpha’s jawline. “I want this, if you do too.”

Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe he was thinking way too much about it. Izuku just said it was okay for him to scent him. But somehow, he knew it meant so much more than just that. This was the first step they were taking together. And maybe they were a little behind. Maybe most people started mutual scenting right after courting started. But this felt like so much more than just that.

And it was what Katsuki wanted.

Even if he had scented the omega before, many times before, he knew this was different. So he moved slowly but with purpose. Brushing hair back from the omega’s neck, moving forward, claiming a space that was his, no, theirs. Izuku stayed where he was, let Katsuki take up their space, let him move close enough that the alpha could feel breath on his neck.

“You going to kiss me?” There was a smile and a laugh in his question.

“I want to.”

Izuku laughed. Rested his arms on the alpha’s shoulders. “Well? You going to beg for it?”

A growl rose up Katsuki’s throat before he could stop it. For as much as he might have been afraid that the omega would react badly to that, he felt a shiver go up Izuku’s spine, a slight quiver in his fingertips, something that drew him closer, like a magnet, until their lips pressed together.

It was not their first kiss. But it felt a bit like it. There was a moment of learning, a moment of hesitation between both of them, before Izuku pressed forward and Katsuki returned in kind, growling at the back of his throat. The kiss itself didn’t last very long, a small noise breaking between them when they pulled away. As much as Katsuki wanted to focus just on those lips, he was drawn to the omega’s neck, to the scent that was dripping along him, the pull of how sweet he tasted. It had always been his favorite to tease the omega’s scent gland when they’d been kids. Now, it wasn’t quite the same. He folded his lips over that small part of his neck with a hunger he didn’t know he had, sated only when Izuku shivered again, when his breathing shook and his fingers dug into his skin.

He smelled like summer nights. He still tasted like honey.

Katsuki trailed a kiss over Izuku’s scent gland, found the little spots left from Yokoyama’s bite, pulled back. He hesitated, remembering very vividly the horrible wounds that had decorated the omega not so long ago, remembering the blood and the smell of fear and revolting lust.

“Katsuki?” The omega’s voice was quiet. But it was a beacon. A light through the horrible memories. A pull back to this moment, their moment. This was only theirs. Nothing anyone else had done before could spoil it. He wouldn’t allow it.

So he kissed those spots, rubbed against it, mixed his scent with the omega’s, felt a little more at ease, felt the omega melting in his arms, felt the hum that vibrated through Izuku’s chest.

And, very suddenly, he felt the tension returning. It came as a zing, as the omega straightening up, so much so that he nearly knocked into Katsuki’s teeth. The alpha growled, spun over his shoulder, and saw Kazue standing there.

There was nothing but sheer horror on the pup’s face.

He stood with his hands outstretched toward them, shivering, his scent soured so much that the moment Katsuki caught a whiff of it, he wanted to be sick. He couldn’t really understand why the pup looked so horrified, until he reached again, said, “Alpha. Mommy…!”

It all made sense very suddenly, and very sickeningly. The last time Kazue had seen an alpha in Izuku’s space as he was had been Yokoyama, when he’d been assaulting the omega. The last time he might have smelled the scent of arousal in the air would have been during the attack.

It all made so much sense.

Kazue looked at what was happening, and he thought Katsuki was attacking his mom all over again.

“Kazue, listen—” Izuku pushed Katsuki aside and Katsuki let him, but they both froze when Kazue shrieked.

“STOP!” He screamed, his hands still reaching forward. “Don’t hurt my Mommy!”

Somehow, in the moments that followed, Katsuki knew what was happening. He could have never predicted it. But he knew.

He knew when he saw the little sparks race across Kazue’s palms, felt the sudden shifting of air in the room, felt as heat began expanding around him.

He couldn’t reach the pup in time.

But he did manage to grab Izuku, to curl around him, to protect him, as an explosion ripped through the kitchen, searing up and along his back, as his pup shrieked and Izuku screamed and everything began crumbling around them.

Chapter Text

For a moment, Katsuki only knew what had happened previously. He was only aware of the events that had transpired. Of Kazue walking into the kitchen. Of the pup’s absolute horror. Of the sparks that lit up on his palms. The present didn’t catch up to him until he felt Izuku grab him and try to hold him up as his knees gave way under him.

“Katsuki! Are you okay?!”

Katsuki growled, tried to get back on his feet, tried to move his arm, only for searing pain to race up his side. “FUCK!”

“What? Where are you hurt? Let me see!” A hand brushed over his shoulder, Katsuki nearly howling at the second wave of pain that overcame him. He caught Izuku’s face paling. “Katsuki, you have to go to the hospital. Now.”

“What happened? What was that?” The shout came from the other room, maybe from the other floor.

“Call for help! Katsuki’s hurt! The kitchen’s on fire!”

“Fire?!”

“What happened to Bakugo?”

“Hit the sprinklers!”

The shouting overcame the house just as an alarm started blaring. Iida had installed sprinklers a couple years previously after a… spat between Katsuki and Todoroki. They’d remained unused, until that moment, as a torment of water crashed onto his back. This time, he couldn’t hold back a howl, arching away from the pain in his body. Over his own pain, he heard another voice, a small one, shriek and start to sob.

Kazue….

Despite the pain, despite the fact that his vision was tunneling, Katsuki tried to look for the pup, saw only Izuku, saw blood streaming down his arm, running from a jagged wound near his shoulder.

The omega was hurt too.

He hadn’t been able to protect him.

And now Kazue was crying too. Was he hurt as well? Had Katsuki failed him just as badly?

“Kaz…,” he called, “it’s— all right.”

“Y-yeah, firecracker. It’ll be okay. We’re going to—” Izuku froze as if struck by lightning. And Katsuki knew why.

A new, powerful scent was flooding the room, over the rushing water and the smell of ash and burning wood and dust.

A new alpha scent.

It was distinct, a campfire set in a pine forest. Burning wood. Charcoal. Embers nestled in fresh kindling. And an inferno. A roaring, consuming, burning fire. The scent rushed over all of them, holding them in place. Although Katsuki had never smelled it before, he knew that scent. And he knew Izuku did as well.

They both looked at Kazue, saw his little form shaking, staring at blistered hands, the scent rolling off of him in palpable waves.

Instinct drew Katsuki and Izuku both toward the strong scent of their pup’s distress. Without the dampening, sweet pup scent, the real force of his terror hit them, had even Katsuki, as injured as he was, reaching for him. Izuku got there first, grabbed onto him, wrapped him up, tried to quash his new alpha scent with his more calming omega scent.

“Shh, shh, shh, firecracker. Shhhh. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“M-Mommy?”

“Shhh.”

Katsuki had nearly reached the two, but the pain found its way through the pull to comfort them, had Katsuki stumbling, caught by strong arms, arms that held him up. He glimpsed a flash of red, saw as someone else wrapped around Izuku and Kazue, added their scent to the omega’s.

Kirishima and Uraraka.

“The hell happened?” The beta sounded shaky. No doubt he was under the effect of Kazue’s new scent as well.

“Kazue, he—” Katsuki could hear the tears in Izuku’s voice. “He didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

The omega and beta paused, caught in the realization of what that meant. Kirishima shifted first, watching the pup. “Firecracker. Right.”

Katsuki snapped his jaws. “Don’t— insult— my pup.”

“Easy there, man. You’re not looking too good. You just take a load off. We’ll take care of things now.”

“You need help, too, Deku,” Uraraka said.

“No,” Izuku sniffed. “Kazue and Katsuki first.”

The other omega sighed. “How about you all go together. That a good compromise?”

Tsu and Kaminari suddenly barreled into the room, Kaminari holding a fire extinguisher like he was one hundred percent sure he had known this day would come, like he had practiced holding that fire extinguisher with the expectation of having to use it. Tsu, on the other hand, simply had a phone pressed to her ear, watching as the beta spun around, looking for a fire to put out. Unfortunately for him, the sprinklers had taken care of everything except for the smoking remains.

“Fire department is coming,” Tsu said.

“Tell them we’re going to need at least one ambulance. Maybe two,” Uraraka said, Tsu nodding sharply.

“Oh,” Kirishima perked up slightly, “and uh, maybe call Iida and let him know?” The beta smiled, very clearly nervous.

Tsu just stared at him. “You’re the head beta. Besides, I’m on the phone with emergency services.”

“But I—” Kirishima tried to gesture toward Katsuki, but he quickly deflated, “Oh, all right, fine!”

- - -

The paramedics took one look at both Katsuki and Izuku and one sniff of Kazue and loaded all three of them into ambulances. Katsuki quickly realized Izuku and his pup were to be transported in a different ambulance and no matter how much he hissed and growled, that wasn’t going to change. On the way, it also became quickly clear that his injuries and status as a hero meant he was put on the fast track to the burn unit. He didn’t have an option. He didn’t get a chance to see Izuku or Kazue once they arrived at the hospital. He didn’t have a chance to say anything before an IV was put into his arm and he was promptly knocked out to be wheeled straight into treatment.

The next time he woke, it was to annoyingly sterile ceiling tiles and terribly bright lights. But it was also to a familiar, calming scent. It was perhaps only the presence of that scent that kept him from immediately trying to leap up.

Izuku sat next to him, leaned over his knees, typing something out on his phone. He looked… sad. Which meant he was only keeping up his calm scent for Katsuki’s sake.

There were new bandages on the omega’s arm.

The sight of them roused Katsuki, had him trying to sit up. As soon as he did, Izuku was there, pushing him back down.

“Hey, hey, lay down. Rest, relax.”

“Where’s Kazue?” As unhappy as he was about Izuku being hurt, he was there and he was fine, which meant all Katsuki needed to know was where the pup was. He needed to know what had happened to him, needed all the information so he could decide what he had to do next.

“Doctors are looking after him,” Izuku ran a hand through his hair, green curls still unruly. “He presented as an alpha.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“So, yeah. They have to give him a presentation treatment.”

Katsuki growled, shifted uncomfortable in his bed. His side was starting to hurt a little, but he ignored it. “Yeah. I remember that bullshit.”

A quiet fell between them. Katsuki tilted his head slightly, saw the omega playing with his fingers, water welling in his eyes.

“Hey,” he reached out, placed a hand over Izuku’s. “He’ll be okay. It’s normal. Every alpha has to go through an initial presentation treatment.”

“I know.”

“It’ll just help calm him down a little.”

“I know.”

Katsuki paused. Felt Izuku still trying to play with his fingers, even as his hand laid over them. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head.

“Tell me.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s obviously not. You’re freaking out.”

“I said, it’s fine.”

“Are you worried about him?”

“No. Well, I mean, yes, but that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Izuku tore his hands away from Katsuki, clasped them together. Pressed them to his forehead, tried to take a deep breath, air rattling through clenched teeth. When he squeezed his eyes shut, the first tears slipped out.

“The doctors said I can’t be in the room with him.”

“Yeah. Something to do with scents—”

“I know why, Katsuki. But I’m not there. He needs me and I’m not there for him.”

Ah. It suddenly made a lot of sense and it wasn’t just what Izuku said that fit everything together. It was also what he hadn’t said. That yes, Kazue needed him. But he also needed Kazue. He’d never been away from the pup at such a critical time. Not unless it was against his will. There was a lot of anxiety and trauma in their separation, for both Kazue and Izuku. For as awful as Izuku was feeling, Kazue had to be feeling worse, alone, knowing his parents were hurt, going through presenting as an alpha, all the uncomfortableness of that event itself added onto the fact of Kazue’s distrust of alphas to begin with. And Izuku knew all of that. He was thinking about all of that, on top of his own growing hurt and anxieties. Katsuki could see it building under his skin, a sort of pressure that was going to make the omega explode if he didn’t get to comfort his pup soon.

Just as Izuku knew all of this, Katsuki recognized it as well.

Slowly, despite Izuku’s immediate protestation and the pain that flared along his body, Katsuki sat up, let out a hissed breath with a steady stream of curses.

“How bad am I?” He asked between growls. Izuku startled a bit, drew away, but Katsuki pressed forward. “Just tell me.”

The omega still paused, long enough that Katsuki felt his lip twitching. Then, he reached forward, pushing the alpha back down. “You had burns all along your right side. Mostly severely on your shoulder. But you also twisted some muscles in your back. Your doctors healed you up as best they could, but they are worried about your old injuries acting up. You need to rest.”

“I can rest on my feet.” Past Izuku’s attempts to keep him in bed, Katsuki sat up. His back twinged a little as he twisted to put his feet on the ground and his side throbbed unpleasantly. Nothing he couldn’t handle. “What about you? Your arm?”

Izuku, still trying to shove him back into bed, paused, blinked. When he didn’t immediately react otherwise, Katsuki brushed a hand over the new bandages, drawing the omega’s attention to them. “Doctors fixed me up a little. What about you?”

“Just a couple stitches. I’m still too close to my hospitalization for them to use any Quirks to help me.”

Katsuki growled, used Izuku’s distraction to stand. “As long as you’re okay, I guess. Stay here. I’ll go check on Kazue.”

Again, the omega was left blinking in shock. “But Katsuki—”

“I’m an alpha. When I presented, my mom was allowed to stay with me since she was also an alpha. I’ll make sure Kazue isn’t alone.”