Is there a hotel in grimetown? Or rather, a motel? 😗

OH ABSOLUTELY

Tomura would like to say that it had been a clever, long planned escape. That they’d carefully accounted for every variable, had everything packed and ready, that all they were waiting for was the right time to spring their plan into action before disappearing into the night.

Things never really worked out that way outside of fiction though. 

When it came down to it, it had been just one bad day in a lifetime of bad days driving him into action. Big hands leaving big bruises, the muffled weeping of someone small and helpless, the warmth of tears soaking his shirt as he tried and failed desperately to make it right. Their mother had tried the carefully planned route of escape, and she’d been caught in her planning. Her punishment was a mind so badly torn apart she couldn’t even take care of herself anymore, shunted off to a facility to be looked after until a time it was deemed she was allowed to come back.

In the end he’d just grabbed Izuku and bolted in a frantic rush of adrenaline, getting away with Kurogiri and dumb fucking luck. And they only managed to escape permanently due to circumstances well outside of their control.

If Izuku hadn’t been completely obsessed with heroes and All Might in particular before, he sure as fuck was when the number one hero smashed thier piece of shit old man into a red mist of blood and brain matter. He couldn’t blame his little brother, not when the looming threat that had haunted them from the moment they’d run was suddenly gone. Dead.

A weight was lifted that day, even as they sat huddled together beneath an overpass, a biting winter wind chilling them through the layers of clothes they’d had. Then it was just down to figuring out where the hell they were supposed to go from there.

“Tomura,” Izuku mutters, burrowing a little closer to his older brother’s warmth as the wind picks up, “I’m hungry.”

Tomura's stomach twisted painfully at his brother’s faint words. They’d run out of protein bars that morning, and the small amount of cash he’d been able to snag before booking it was almost nonexistent after breaking down and buying a heavy blanket to help fight the cold earlier that week. The weight of their father - the monster, the villain, All for One - had been lifted, but a different weight had settled on his shoulders instead. 

He had to take care of Izuku. He was the only one left that could.

And he had no fucking idea what he was doing.

Kurogiri might have been able to give him help, but the delicate balance of Quirks and science that kept the corpse running was a finicky, imperfect process. The Doctor had called the dead boy half made of mist incomplete, and it showed in how the warper slipped between behaving like a mindless but devoted servant, chattering happily like a bubbly highschooler to people only he was aware of, and the blank, zombie like state that spoke to a spirit broken and a mind hollowed out. He didn’t need much to eat, thankfully, but he also hadn’t been aware enough since a couple days into their escape to be of any use.

Tomura was lucky enough to get the half-finished prometheus on a good enough day to warp all three of them as far as possible when he told him too. Luckier still that he’d been...programmed, for a lack of a better word, to follow Tomura’s orders. That had been pretty much the end of their luck though. After quietly suggesting Tomura and Izuku find a shelter to stay at, the construct had slipped into another fugue state and had been stuck there ever since.

The shelter had been a good call, at least while it lasted. A warm place to sleep and food to fill their bellies. Since he and Izuku were minors they got the luxury of getting two meals a day rather than the one the adults at the shelter got. But then one of the people running the place had pulled Tomura aside to ask about his situation, offering help to a couple of kids on their own. 

Another bout of good fortune, he’d thought at the time.

He’d been wrong.

Once the word villain had slipped his lips in the context of who his and Izuku’s father was, that had been it. They’d been shunted back onto the streets with a strained, insincere apology and the explanation that children of villains were just villains who hadn’t caused trouble yet. Have to consider the safety of the other people staying there. Those had been the words that had stuck with him. Like he and Izuku had been the ones running around trying to topple the government and take over the country, rather than just more pawns in their father’s sick games.

They found a couple more shelters after that, but all had either booted them or had to be abandoned for similar reasons. Kurogiri looked like a criminal. Tomura’s Quirk was too dangerous. Izuku’s Quirk was villainous. Injustice after injustice, a reminder that even if their father was a monster, the society he raged against wasn’t clean of sin either.

Beneath the overpass, Tomura pulled Izuku closer to him, tucking his brother’s head beneath his chin and trying not to cry. Izuku was only eight years old, his birthday one of the last happy moments they had before their mother was taken away. Tomura remembered the sweetness of the cake, the way the light of the candles made Izuku’s eyes look flecked with gold, their mother’s laughter as Tomura smeared frosting on his indignant baby brother’s face.

He remembered after their little party too. Their father dragging Izuku away down to the labs. The way his brother sobbed as their father forced him to use his Quirk again and again on the bodies - some living, some dead - the good doctor had procured. The bruises on skin when Izuku refused and their father would make him do as he was told. The silence that surrounded his little brother when their father resorted to methods worse than beatings to get what he wanted.

Eight years old. Tomura was only fourteen. No money, no parents, no place to stay, no plan. Not forgetting the highly unethical, largely unreachable frankenstein-esque human experiment that broke both the laws of nature and most of the world’s countries to look after.

“I know.” He muttered quietly into his little brother’s hair, squeezing him in a tight hug. “We’ll get something to eat in the morning.” He promised, not having a single idea how the hell he was meant to make that happen. He would though. No matter what it took, he’d make sure his little brother was taken care of. “Gotta sleep for now though, okay? I know it’s bad, but we’ll figure it out. Promise.”

Izuku nodded, his nose cold where he’d burrowed just past the collar of Tomura’s shirt and pressed against his skin. “M’kay.” Izuku said tiredly, belief and trust absolute and unwavering even in the face of all the hardships Tomura had pulled his brother into. His heart squeezed, eyes burning hotly with the threat of tears

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