Chapter Text
Eraserhead was tired. He had been tired since highschool and it never seemed to end. This wasn’t the type of tiredness that could be fixed by a good night's sleep or a nice relaxing day with friends. No, this was the type of bone deep exhaustion that throbbed behind the ribs and behind the eyes. This was the type of exhaustion that didn’t stem from lack of sleep (though that certainly didn't help), but from seeing the world and the people of the world at its worst. It only worsened every night when he would pick up his capture weapon and strap on his goggles only to go out and face the worst life had to offer. Every night he was forced to go and see the hate that people held for one another and the needless, baseless violence that others loved to inflict on others. It was a never ending cycle of leaving at night, returning home exhausted, sleeping, maybe eating and repeating.
If it weren’t for his husband Eraserhead wasn’t sure he would've made it past highschool much less in the world of underground heroes. Sometimes it felt as if Hizashi was the only thing keeping him afloat and providing him hope in the world they lived in.
He was dragged out of his musings when his final alarm went off alerting him that if he didn’t get out of bed right at that moment then he was going to be late to the police station. He let out a long groan as he slowly sat up and swung his legs out of bed. There is no way that a 23 year old body should feel like this, but he guessed that's the price you pay working night shifts against villains for the past eight years.
He didn’t waste any more time and swiftly got ready because being late wasn’t an option. There was a big raid going on and all of the heroes and police officers were meeting at the station for a briefing before the raid occurred. Before leaving his room he gave a quick kiss to his husband's forehead for good luck, and then he was off to the station.
While walking to the police station he went over everything they knew about the case that was cause for the raid. Confidential informants had gotten in contact with Tsukauchi and informed him that there was an underground club that catered to villains and that tonight there was supposed to be a large fight pit. According to the informant the fighters were mostly children who had been kidnapped and trained to fight in the ring for their captors.
Eraserhead was filled with rage and disgust every time he thought of the innocent children and the needless suffering they were experiencing. He knew that even when the children were rescued they were going to be irrevocably changed and scarred by what they were forced to experience.
He was so immersed in his thought that he had made it to the station far faster than he realized. Eraserhead looked at the building standing before, took in a deep breath and started into the building ready for whatever the night might bring.
He entered the building nodding to the police officer at the front desk as he breezed by him. Eraserhead had spent enough time in this building for verone to recognize him and for him to know exactly where he was going. He reached the briefing room and could hear voices talking inside. When he entered the room he made eye contact with Tsukacuhi who was once again going over the plan for the night. It was going to have to be a stealth mission because if they went in guns ablazing it gave the possibility for villains to escape with some of the children. Their number one goal for this raid was the retrieval of the children and the arrest of the leader of the club.
Eraserhead had been mentally going over the plans for the night so instead of paying attention he let his mind go blank and tried to relax. When the meeting ended and everyone left to get geared up he approached Tsukauchi.
“Good to see you Eraserhead” Tsukauchi nodded his head in greeting.
Eraserhead slumped onto one of the desks “Do you think we’re ready for tonight?”
“As ready as we can be based on the information we have. We’ve done our best to be prepared but you know as well as I do that these situations can turn south fast. There are just too many people that we cant account for, but I believe in my men and the heroes here.”
Eraserhead simply nodded his head in acknowledgment and left to get ready himself.
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He only remembered brief flashes of his life before the black cell. He remembered a blonde angry boy that shined hotter and brighter than the sun. He remembered the taste of fried pork cutlets, soft touches, and comforting green. And he remembered loud laughter and the inspiring shout “I AM HERE!”
Other than these three memories all he had known was the black cell, the lab, and pain. He couldn’t even remember his own name. He was simply known as #P427. He knew that there were others before him, but the Doctor always said that they were failures. The Doctor said #P427 was special and the key to everything. #P427 didn’t really understand what the Doctor meant, but he was just glad that the Doctor was happy. When the Doctor was happy and said that he did well he would get orange juice, and he loved orange juice. Even though when the Doctor was happy #P427 was usually hurt. It was all worth it for the orange juice, even when his body felt weird and did things he couldn’t control.
#P427 could only assume it was night because he hadn’t seen the Doctor in a couple of hours, and no one had walked by his cell in a while. He was curled up in the corner surrounding himself with his wings when he heard it. #P427 couldn’t help but swivel his head in alarm at the unfamiliar sound. He could also hear footsteps racing through the hallways and people talking to one another too quiet for him to make out what they were saying.
He heard footsteps approaching his cell and tried to make himself even smaller while fully hiding himself in his soft comforting wings. He knew this would make the Doctor mad, but he couldn’t help but hide. The footsteps stopped outside of his cell, but he didn’t dare untuck his head from his feathers.
“Hey, kid. Can you look at me?”
#P427 started shaking in fear, that wasn’t the Doctor. He didn’t know what was going on, was this a test from the Doctor? Was he going to get hurt if he listened to this man?
“It’s okay kid. I’m a hero, you can trust me. My name is Eraserhead”
This caused him to stop shaking and he slightly perked up as he recognized the word hero.
“I am here?” He chirped while hesitantly lifting his head from his wings. The man standing in front of him was barely discernible in the dark even with his advanced eyesight.
The man let out a quiet snort while bending over to start trying to open his cell door.
“Ya, I am here kid. And I’m going to get you out of here” The lock let out a click and the door swung open. #P427 couldn’t help but push himself further into the corner even though there was nowhere to go.
“Please, no. Can’t go. Doctor will be mad.” He started scrambling as the man approached him slowly.
“Hey, hey. It’s ok kid. I’ll protect you from the doctor, but that means I need you to let me help you. Is there anywhere you’re hurt?” Eraserhead said, placating as he kneeled in front of the young boy.
“I see those chains on your ankles. Can I take them off?” The boy looked hesitant, but eventually gave a shaky nod. When Eraserhead got close enough to take off the chain he held in a grimace and tamped down the rage at seeing the quirk canceling cuffs that had rubbed the skin and flesh away on the boy's ankles. There was enough slack between the chains that the boy could walk and Erasheread knew that the chains hadn’t been removed in a long time.
The boy let out a little squawk of pain as the chains fell off and immediately pulled his legs back to tuck into himself.
“Can you walk?” The boy attempted to stand up on shaky legs, but when he let go of the wall to take a step he fell back to the cold ground. Eraserhead went to pick the kid up, but stopped when he flinched back and covered his head as if he were going to be hit.
“If you can’t walk I’m going to have to carry you out. I promise I won’t hurt you and I won’t touch you more than necessary, but I can't leave you here lying on the ground.” Eraserhead once again bent over to pick the kid up. This time #P427 was prepared and managed to contain his flinch because he didn’t want to make the man angry. However, he was still extremely tense in Eraserheads arms as he walked both of them out of the cell where he was created and raised. They slowly climbed up as Eraserhead did his best to not jostle the scared child in his arms.
#P427 couldn’t help but look around and marvel at all of the flashing red and blue lights and at all of the people and noise. He took in a deep breath and let out a little happy chitter when instead of chemicals and blood he could smell the crisp night air.
Little did #P427 and Eraserhead know, but this moment marked a change in both of their lives.