Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Deep within the Batcave, Dick Grayson sat on a lonely blue bean bag, the scratching of his pen over of his notebook the only audible thing in the enormous space.

Beside him, Bruce Wayne was laid upon a hospital bed, his left arm covered in bandages thanks to The Scarecrow. To be fair, his idea to use the batbombs to explode the balloons and disperse the gas had worked wonderfully. The problem was that he hadn’t gotten away from the fire fast enough. Bruce had a tendency to forget his own mortality, and it made Dick want to kick him in the batnuts, but that could wait until he had woken up.

Alfred, stealthy as always, appeared behind the teenager, almost giving Dick a heart attack, "Master Richard I've brought you dinner, I strongly recommend you leave your notes for later and eat before the stew gets cold" There was fatherlike fondness behind the man’s monotone voice. "You must remember to take care of yourself. After all no good will come from mindlessly worrying and nothing else, I'm sure Master Bruce will wake up soon".

Dick begrudgingly accepted the bowl Alfred handed him and began to eat in silence, careful to not spill any food on his quickly filling notebook

 It was the fifth in his collection since he joined Bruce in his vigilante activities three years prior, his notes had grown considerably. Under Bruce’s tutelage, he had taken to observing combat strategies and fighting styles, but since joining the League, he had returned to the quirk analysis he used to do in Musutafu.

It was strange, he thought, knowing that he'd been born in a future where a new Superman appeared every day. Hell, the only reason he knew that this was, in fact, the past and not some alternate reality was the fact that Superman and Batman were still admired in his time: The two paragons of the Golden Age of Heroics. To think that Dick himself would one day be remembered as Robin the Boy Wonder was too much sometimes.

A deep, tired growl came from the bed next to him, shaking Dick out of his thoughts.  He lifted his head from his notes to see Bruce's eyes flutter open. His mentor looked around for a second, his frown deepening a little after realizing his position. That position being laid on a hospital bed, arm and chest completely covered in bandages. Finally, the Bat's eyes landed on his student, greyish blue meeting bright green, and his frown softened. Not enough that anyone else would notice, but just enough that Dick could see this relief. Alfred was strict when it came to injuries, which meant if Dick was sitting next to him instead of laying in another hospital bed, then he was ok.

A shit-eating grin appeared in his student's face as Bruce struggled to sit up, "Who would have guessed that the great Batman would be bested by a little explosion? If The Joker finds out your weakness is explosions, Gotham will be in big trouble, Old Bat."

"Very funny, kid. Where's Alfred?" Bruce was used to Dick's usual sass, and he knew to read between the lines. The kid had been worried for him, the same way Bruce worried about him whenever Robin got hurt during patrol or missions. It sometimes made him reconsider bringing Dick into his 'Night activities’, even though the kid had saved his ass more times he could count.

Alfred on the other hand... The man always made sure to lecture him whenever he took too many risks, Bruce didn’t have the energy to listen to his butler being in the right.

Dick shrugged, his body adopting a more relaxed position in the bean bag "Don't worry about him! Alfred is probably threatening the dust into staying off his furnitur-ACK!" Alfred placed one hand in the teenager’s shoulder, nearly giving Dick a heart attack.

" I assure you, Master Richard, that there hasn't been a spec of dirt in my furniture since Master Bruce was your age."Ever stoic, there wasn’t any anger or malice in the butler’s voice, but the teenager's freckle-ridden cheeks tinted pink anyway. His usually grumpy teacher couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, earning a glare from the still blushing teenager. Alfred then turned to the bat, "And you, Master Bruce, should be more careful on the stunts you pull, May I remind you Hospitals are still not an option for you? Think about what your actions teach Master Richard, I have enough trouble taking care of one reckless teenager to add a thoughtless vigilante.”

"Yeah yeah got it, now help me get up"

"You will remain in that bed until your wounds are healed, Master Bruce"

"Alfred..."

Dick watched the adults banter, and a clear innocent laugh bubbled from his mouth. Usually, he would contain such rowdy laughter, but It had been a while since the last time Bruce acted like a child, and after three days of worrying over his unconscious mentor, it was very much needed. 

The teenager's laughter pulled both adults out of their argument. It had been a long time since laughter was heard in the Batcave, and even longer since the last time Dick had honestly laughed beyond a sarcastic chuckle or a meme. Bruce didn't even try to hide the small smile that painted his face as he watched his student laugh like the kid he was supposed to be, and Alfred discreetly captured a picture of the exchange.  A picture Bruce would deny ever existed, even if Dick had it as his phone background.

Dick smiled to himself as he remembered that day. 

No, that wasn't quite right.

That was not his name, not anymore.

Izuku looked down from the cornice of the building he had chosen as his vantage point that night. It was a peaceful evening, a few hours left until dawn, and the vigilante known as Robin had found little rouble.

Of course, that may have been caused by A)The fact that crime was always slow on Wednesdays, or B)After a year people had started taking notice of the fact that the elusive vigilante had a ten-kilometer radius of the city in his patrol route, so trying to commit crimes in the area was futile. It was probably a mixture of the both, but still. Slow nights meant boredom, and boredom meant nothing to distract Izuku from his memories.

Memories were a painful companion Izuku couldn't brush of even after two years of being back on his own time. The years he spent traveling with his adoptive parents, and the ones he spent living with Bruce were precious to him, and the teen would never have given them up. Still, sometimes Izuku wished there was a way to forget, if only for a minute. Just a minute of not knowing that once he had a family that loved him, people who wanted him despite his lack of powers. Once upon a time, Dick had real friends, people who lifted him up instead of using every ounce of their power to try and tear his spirit, will, and conviction apart.

It honestly didn't surprise him that the first thing about the quirk era his brain forgot after leaving for a bit in the past had been Bakugo. He had always been conscious of the fact that he'd been bullied in a lot of extremely gruesome ways back in the future, but the name and face of his supposed childhood friend were lost to time. Until of course fate threw him a curveball and sent him back "home".

Robin was so centered in his newly found pitiful train of thought that he never felt the dark figure of a long-haired man crouching in the cornice beside him until he felt a strong hand in his shoulder and a grumpy tired voice speaking. "Kid"

"Eraserhead, long time no see!" Robin tried to dissimulate the small flinch the hand in his newly burned shoulder caused him. He failed miserably, if the concerned glare the pro hero threw his way was anything to guide himself by.  

"You ok kid?" 

"Yeah, you just startled me, is not every day that a hobo sneaks up on you on top of a ten-story building" Yeah sure, it was true that the hero had to take him by surprise, but make him flinch? He was better than that, Batman didn't raise no bitch. No, the reason for his flinch had been Bakugo and his stupid explosions. Izuku hadn't had time to run from the bully and he didn't just want to call too much attention to himself by fighting back, so he just let Bakugo do as he wanted. And what he wanted was to "Warn" Izuku against applying to UA, and the only way the blonde knew how to do that was by throwing his notebook through the window and exploding his palm right into the grenette's shoulder. Eraserhead didn't seem convinced by his explanation either, but judging by his shrug, the pro wasn't planning on chastizing Izuku for answers. 

That's how their weird...partnership? friendship? However their relationship was called, worked. Eraser would ask questions, more often than no trivial stuff but sometimes he seemed to be trying to take information from the vigilante. In exchange, Izuku stayed (mostly) out of trouble and didn't fight too many bad guys on his own. Most of the underground heroes around the area knew of the strange relationship between the Pro and the vigilante, but most seemed to not care. They weren't limelight heroes, public opinions didn't matter as much and as long as they didn't kill or seriously injure anybody, most vigilantes ended up working with the heroes. 

Pro and Vigilante stayed there in silence for a bit until the sound of a fight called their attention from a few blocks away and the unlikely duo jumped into action.

Aizawa Shouta, AKA Eraserhead, knew five things about the vigilante known as Robin.

First, he was a kid. Not only did his height gave Robin away, but he told Shouta as much after the pro tried to invite him for a drink in a lowkey bar after an especially rough night. Of course, there was always a chance Robin was lying so he had a viable excuse to refuse the invitation, but Shouta doubted it. 

Second, Robin was way too intelligent for his own good. Not only did the kid have an amazing ability for quirk analysis and battle strategy, but he also seemed to have a nearly photographic memory and tended to switch between languages, which meant the kid was a polyglot. Japanese was apparently his first language, but he often switched to English whenever something bad happened or he started one of his mumbling fests. Shouta feared the day Nezu met the vigilante.

Third, the kid didn't learn how to be a vigilante on his own, he had a teacher. Robin had mentioned a mentor a few times, and the energy surrounding the vigilante always felt grim afterward. From what Shouta could deduce, the kid looked up to this mentor of his, but he had died a long time ago.

Fourth, the kid had a terrible home life. Shouta recognized a lot of the bruises the vigilante often showcased, and he wasn’t stupid. The hero knew for a fact most of those weren't products of villains. It was the reason Shota was putting so much effort into getting a fostering license for him and Hizashi, that way if things got too bad he could help Robin by taking him in no questions asked. He'd grown out of the system, jumping from hellhole to hellhole and putting himself through school, Shouta was not planning on letting Robin suffer like that.

Fifth, Robin was quirkless. The main reason Shouta felt a sort of kinship with the vigilante, he depended on hand-to-hand combat, and was a master of it. Shouta was no idiot, the hero had been alive long enough (and talked enough people away from ledges) to know how society treated quirkless individuals. It was only one more reason to protect the kid, vigilante or not.

'And protect him I will' the hero thought, as both he and Robin leaped into battle.

Chapter Text

It was nearing six am when Shouta entered his apartment from the bedroom window. Hizashi usually got up at seven, which gave the pro at least an hour of cuddle time with his husband. Usually, he tried to patrol until four, if only to have more than two hours of sleep before having to go and face the brats at school, but last night had been an outlier. Robin usually went home by three, there was something actively making the kid want to stay away from his house. It had been more than a year since he met the elusive vigilante, more than enough time to understand Robin, at least a little bit.

Shouta ignored his bed and went to the office where a whiteboard was filling with information about Robin's case.

Shouta had started the board a few months back, but when asked why by Hizashi and Nemuri the answer was unclear. It was undeniable to Shouta that he was attached to the kid, it was the whole reason both he and Hizashi had fostering licenses. It was more than obvious that Robin had a lot of potential, but that alone wouldn't have justified Shouta’s effort. Six months of notes, clues, analysis, and even some pictures of the kid taken by security cameras, all connected to the wall.

What did a kid have to live through to spend his nights fighting criminals, without having a parent realize he was gone? 

Robin was a kid, a kid who should have starry eyes full of wonder and unconditional admiration for heroes, at least that's how most kids acted nowadays. Instead, Robin was a sarcastic little shit cynical to the core who could take opponents three times his sides. That kid had been deeply hurt, and if Shouta was correct about his theory, was still actively getting hurt again and again.

One could argue that the kid simply got hurt a lot during his vigilante activities, but the pattern just didn't match. Those star-shaped scars Robin tried to conceal pointed to combustion or explosion-type fire quirk being repeatedly used against him. Robin was quirkless, which meant ongoing abuse was more than likely, and in their months of working together, not once had Shouta encountered any villain with a quirk like that. 

For some reason, every single tidbit of information Shouta gained on Robin always made the pro circle back to that, the fact that the elusive vigilante was fighting without a quirk, and he still managed to be more effective than some limelight heroes. And the kid, hidden a bit by his snarky attitude, was also way too mature, and definitely more mature than a lot of the heroes Shouta knew. There was always this lingering sadness that seemed to accompany Robin everywhere, and Shouta couldn't help but see himself there. Or at least the part of himself that had suffered the most after Shirakumo’s death. 

Robin didn't seem to notice this, it was almost as if grief had become such a constant in the vigilante’s life he didn't notice its weight anymore. Shouta had asked Robin about it once, and he learned that the kid used to have a mentor who was now gone. 

The answer should have satisfied him, yet it felt like there was more. 

Robin was sarcastic, sassy, and never hesitated. Shouta had called the vigilante problem child for a reason. Chaos seemed to follow the kid everywhere, yet in the last few months, it really felt like something else was going on. There was nothing the hero could do, not so early anyway. He left the office, making way to his bedroom and getting into the bed without bothering to take his hero uniform off. 

Hizashi was warm, and Shouta basked in the familiarity of the hold. 

Robin would be fine...right?

Dick (Izuku, my name Is Izuku, fuck) plummeted into his bed, glad of having long changed the brightly colored All Might bedding. He’d found some old-school Green Arrow covers a few months ago, and though he had started using them ironically seeing as Queen had been the one chosen to contrast Bruce in the JLA, they had become really comforting.  It probably had to do with the fact that owning things from the past helped to ground Izuku into his new reality. After two years living back in the future, the old merch served as tangible proof that his old life was real.

It was currently 6 am, which meant Izuku had exactly half an hour to sleep before having to get up early enough to leave the house clean before leaving for school himself. 

If the sound coming from the kitchen was to be trusted (And it usually was) Inko was making a big breakfast for herself, meaning that there would probably be scraps left Dick would have to store in the fridge. Extra breakfast also meant extra things to clean, so he wouldn't even be able to have that half-hour of sleep. 

The front door closed, marking Inko’s departure, and an already dressed Izuku left his room. Well, the use of the word "room" was being a bit generous, since the small space, he was allowed to use used to be a cupboard. Still, it was his, and Izuku appreciated what little he was allowed to have. Plus the broken-down tatami floor meant it was easy to hide his vigilante stuff, even with such a small space to use.

The kitchen was messy, and Izuku wasted no time washing the dishes and pots his “mom” had used to cook for herself. He had learned long ago to not even try and touch what was left, he was only allowed to eat the subpar cheaper ingredients, Inko was doing enough for him letting a quirkless child live under her roof. Izuku gritted his teeth at the memories of the words the woman he once called mom told him. 

It was hard to do everything alone as a kid, but it felt even worse now that Izuku was taught how real parents treated their kids.

He remembered trying, in his four-year-old body, to help his adoptive mom with chores back at the circus. He couldn't understand his adoptive parents back then, English hadn't become a thing for his brain yet, but he distinctly remembered the look Ms. Grayson had given him. It was warm and caring, something Izuku has not experienced coming from an adult in a long time. She had let him help, but it felt more like she was humoring him than she was teaching him how to do stuff just so he could do it alone and mom wouldn't have to be bothered to do chores anymore. Dad was similar, he never let Dick cook alone. He humored him, letting the kids help to take care of their meals in the portable stove, but he never made Dick take care of stuff alone. The Graysons never let him take care of stuff alone, and when he asked them why one day, their answer was clear. 

“You are a child Dick is not your job to take care of everything alone, but ours as your parents to make sure you have everything you need.”

Then Alfred and Bruce came around, and chores were not something he had to do anymore, but rather a way to blow off steam. Dick would forever blame Alfred for his stress cleaning and Baking, and the old butler would just smile. The big cupboard was kept filled with materials for Dick to cook in peace, and if Bruce joined him for some late-night snacking or baking after an especially rough mission or patch? That was just the way their relationship worked.  Cooking was not something Dick saw as a chore, because back then it was simply something families did together. Same as cleaning, although cleaning became less and less important for him the longer he lived in the Wayne Manor.

The memory stung in the back of Izuku’s heart as he finished putting the dishes away, being brought back to reality by the sound of his coffee machine finishing up. The one thing he was allowed to have, and only because Izuku had built it himself. 

The coffee was nice. Izuku was perfectly aware that his specific variety of coffee had been banned in multiple countries for being way too strong and causing more than one heart attack, so a lot of people would consider drinking it as a way of tempting fate. Izuku though? Chugged half a litter in three long sips before refilling his tall cup to go. At this point, Izuku was drinking it out of spite, but that was between him and god. 

Bruce was probably revolting in his grave at Izuku’s caffeinated Russian roulette, and that thought made the teen smile before being forcefully pushed to the back of his head if only so the strangely good mood he had wouldn't get soured by the notion that every single one of the people he loved was long dead by now.

Izuku (He was starting to get used to that being his name, even though Richard would always feel more real) found middle school to be boring, annoying, slightly frightening, and highly useless. 

Mentally he was way over twenty now, having appeared as a toddler almost fourteen years back in Gotham. Physically he was fourteen, but before leaving the past he had graduated high school. Sure, Japanese schools were supposed to be incredibly demanding, but Izuku had been sent to the best schools money could buy back in Gotham. Aldera was nothing but a shithole in comparison. 

A shithole full of quirkist asholes who at best refused to acknowledge his existence, and at worst made Izuku seriously question Bruce’s “No Murder” rule. Especially that Bakugo kid.

That kid had way too much energy for his tiny pomeranian body. It reminded Izuku a lot of Jason actually, if Jason was a serial arsonist so helpless the only hope for him to be redeemed and become a hero was their lord and savior Jesus Christ.

Not that Izuku would ever tell him that, the kid had the power of explosions and society by his side, so Izuku would just pretend to be scared of him until the opportunity to break his NicoNico neck arose naturally, thank you very much.

The thought of breaking Bakugo’s neck made an almost manic grin appeared on the teenager’s face. 

______

Aizawa wanted some coffee. Or vodka, whatever appeared near his line of sight first. His class had zero potential this year, the last one of those brats had just been expelled and it was only May. 

Was he too harsh on the “poor kids”? Hell no. 

Being a hero was a dangerous job, brain cells were needed to not die. This class had none.  A lot of people saw Shouta's teaching as "Too tough", they were only things after all. Shouta had seen a lot of young bright-eyed heroes died because of a lack of proper instruction. No kid would go through that on his watch, no potential then no need to raise the kid's hopes.

Was it a disappointment that none of them had potential for this year? Yes, but it wasn't his fault, hell one of the kids hadn't even chosen to be in the hero course, they had been forced by their Pro Hero father. Shouta had been lenient with that one, simply transferring them to Gen Ed. The rest of those brats could go for all he cared.

He finally reached the teacher's lounge, garnering both amused and (Insert word for Asqueadas) looks from the other teachers. Shouta paid them no mind as he made his way towards the cabinet. Nemuri had bought a bottle of “Workers Vodka” that morning. 

Coffee it was.

_______

“Since you’re all third years, it’s time for you to think seriously about your future” Mr. Tanaka, their homeroom teacher, looked rather bored. Still, Izuku couldn't help but notice the playful look in the man’s eyes. Nothing good could come out of that, at least not for him. Beating a teacher was still frowned upon after all.  ”I’ll pass out handouts for your plans now, but...you’re all...pretty much planning to go into the hero course, right?” 

The classroom erupted in cheers from all of the other students, who immediately began to showcase their quirks at the words of their teacher. Izuku really wanted to disappear, or at least point out the fact that it was illegal to use quirks in public spaces such as schools, but he didn't.  It wasn't his problem if later that week security footage of the scene was leaked to Tsukauchi’s station. Of course not.

“Teach! Don’t lump us all in the same group. I’m not gonna be stuck at the bottom with the rest of these rejects!” 

Katsuki’s words were harsh, coated with something that screamed GET OUT OF MY WAY!  Izuku really wanted to punt him out of the way, but that would only mean trouble, so he didn't. For as much as he wanted to turn Bakugou into the first blonde satellite in orbit, it would be unfair to the kid.

In the background, Izuku could hear a confrontation between Bakugo and the rest of their class, but he paid no mind to them. Until the teacher called on his name.

“Oh Yeah, Midoriya, don't you want to go to UA too?”

“Yup, though I don't see why that's important”

“Watch your tone Midoriya” Izuku scoffed an ‘I'm sorry teach’, as the class laughed in the background. In time he would show them, it was only a matter of time. Bakugo looked pissed though, that could be a problem, but it was a problem for future Izuku. 

Dick always knew his time was finite. From the moment he turned into Robin, The boy wonder, all of the news reports and essays he had read about the old heroes as a kid had been constantly floating in his mind. 

It didn't matter what the focus was, all of the reports had a thing in common, the exact date of his disappearance. The reason for his disappearance was unclear, but it probably had something to do with the Quirk that had sent him into the past in the first place. Once Bruce gained his trust, Dick told him everything. 

He told him about the dawn of quirks,  about AllMight, about his old life, or at least the parts he remembered. It had been a long time after all.

He also told Bruce about the inevitability of his disappearance. Bruce had been adamant to believe it at first. Not the part about Dick being from the future, that was a normal Taco Tuesday when one worked with the flash.

The part Bruce had trouble believing was that there was nothing to be done about his imminent disappearance. About the fact, nothing could be done to prevent it. It was sad at first, to see his mentor and friend so disheartened by the fact his time was borrowed. As time went by, Bruce accepted the idea, always with a frown, but he did. 

A few months before it was his time to go,  Bruce took in another baby bird under his bat wings. 

Jason was brash, violent, and had a superiority complex the size of a fucking truck. Part of Dick wanted to hate him, but the other couldn't help but see the kid as a 'what if'. If the Grayson's had never picked him up, he would probably have ended up just like Jason.

The hotheaded kid hated him, especially at first. In time though, both Batkids became close in a strange way. Having Jason was like having a little brother that came with a crowbar. It was nice, but a highly dangerous practice that only Dick could accomplish. Still, he loved Jason, especially when the mask slipped and the kid allowed himself to be just that.

“Is it true you are from the future? THAT'S SO COOL!” Jason’s eyes filled with child-like wonder every time the topic came out, and he would ramble for hours about beating the pro heroes' asses, powers or not. It was fun.

 When it was time to say goodbye, Jason didn't cry. He only smiled a toothy grin that was missing his last baby teeth. He was thirteen already after all.
“Kick those asholes asses for me Nerd!”
Dick had promised he would, only if Jason kicked a lot of Villain ass for him back in Gotham. The kid smiled a crooked and violent grin as he assured him ‘Joker won't know what hit him!’

The first thing Dick did after he got back to the future was investigating Robin The Boy wonder, he knew they were more than one, but as a child, Izuku had never investigated past the first one. He was curious to see what had been of Jason.

Jason hadn't lasted more than two years, trapped by Joker before his fifteenth birthday.

Dick had left Jason to die, and that would be on him till the day he died. 

Seating on the ledge, Izuku wondered why every time he remembered Jason, It was because something bad had happened. It made sense, it was a painful memory, but the fact that the only time he could manage to think about his brother was whenever something bad happened. 

He knew exactly why he was thinking about the kid now though because Jason would have kicked AllMight's elitist ass into oblivion, which would have made everyone a favor. 

Izuku was really questioning the Number 1 hero's license. Who the fuck gave the "victim" they were trying to save a concussion, only to slap them away after they pass out and then fail to notice the grappling hook said "victim" had been using to rescue themselves attached to their leg. Hell, All Might had even signed his notebook! What was he supposed to do with that page now, eat it?

And how dare the "hero" start lecturing him in mid-air (When the hook attaching to him had been an accident), semi start praising him for being prepared by having a hidden grappling hook, only to start chewing Izuku up once he was made aware of his lack of powers? Leaving him IN A RANDOM ROOFTOP to fend for himself, as he jumped away to continue with his little “heroic acts”.

Furthermore, Bakugo had technically suicide baited him today, not that Izuku cared about the ramblings of a kid. What would AllMight have done if that plus his “Be realistic” speech were enough to make him jump? Oh a part of him wanted to do it just to see the number one’s career ruined. Izuku knew it wasn't true, he was already a hero and had been for a long time. Still, it stung. A younger him had felt nothing but admiration for the American-themed hero, Izuku knew that in harder times, AllMight had been the anchor that kept him grounded to life. 

What would have happened to that younger he had AllMight told him "No, you can't be a hero, be realistic". That would have destroyed him, and Izuku felt bad for that hypothetical him. When he felt that way, there was only one thing that could help Izuku feel better. 

The kid was grinning as he dialed a certain Underground Hero's phone.

Chapter Text

The Graysons had fallen.

Dick was forced to watch in horror, as the ropes snapped, and his parents screamed as the floor approached them at insane speeds. If only they had swung a few meters further, then maybe Dick would have been able to catch them. The teenager could do nothing but stare into his mother's horrified eyes.

Dick had never felt so much pain before. Not after his father abandoned him all those years ago in Musutafu, not when he was diagnosed as quirkless and Inko stopped loving him. Not even when he got separated from everyone in his life after a meta ability brought him to the past.  Those where loses the teenager hadn’t suffered, but this… His parents were dead and Dick couldnt even think about them without tears assaulting his eyes and the void becoming bigger inside of his chest.

“Richard Grayson?”  An elderly voice took Dick out of his thoughts. Right, he was in an orphanage, and the was someone talking to him. Who was it? Dick looked towards the door of the room, where the director was standing. The director of the home was an old woman with warm eyes. She entered the room full of teenagers, scanning the bunk beds until her gaze found him. Dick cowered ducking his head down as the woman gave him a candid smile.

That smiled filled Dick with dread, for it could only mean one thing if she was looking for him. “Mr. Wayne is here, come on you are going to a new home.”

Dick Izuku had never been more grateful for his hacking abilities. The detective was on duty after all, and it just so happened that the lovely building Ass Might have had decided to leave him on top of was close enough to the percent for his phone to be on range.

After all, if there was one thing Izuku loved to do, it was messing with detective Naomasa Tsukauchi. The man reminded him a lot of commissioner Gordon, even though he was like a hundred years younger ('For the last time, I'm NOT that old!' 'Whatever old man, don't break a hip going to the station'), plus, giving grey hairs to a thirty-year-old was fun as heck. He was in the middle of changing every single wallpaper from the detective's precinct to a series of very outdated but iconic dank memes when Izuku felt a very familiar presence behind him. 

“What are you doing up here kid?” Eraserhead sat beside him on the ledge, capture weapon at the ready, presumably to catch him if Izuku were to fall. The whole Idea of Eraserhead thinking he wanted the concrete to make sweet love to his body was hilarious, as if he would be stupid enough to call a pro hero to the scene before attempting sewer slide.  Of course, he didn’t say that, Izuku simply smiled at the slightly irritated Pro from behind his mask.

“Ya know, vibing, plotting world domination, the usual stuff kids do in the roof of ten-story buildings,” Eraserhead scoffed, way too used to his antics by now to believe a word coming out of his mouth. 

“I meant how did you get up here in broad daylight problem child, God knows you are smarter than to climb this early especially since climbing buildings is illegal.”

“Bold of you to assume i care about legality Eraser” Izuku’s smile never left his face, but the hero noticed the snarky edge of it slightly disappearing. Not that it was easy to read that just by looking at the eyes of the vigilante, but he knew Robin well enough to notice when he was about to get serious “Nah, AllMight just dropped me off here after telling me to give up on being a hero.”

---

Shouta hoped he had heard the kid wrong. The murder of the number one hero wasn't something he wanted on his record after all. Behind de snarkiness, the kid looked dead serious. Suddenly, Shouta was extremely glad for the call he received, even if it had interrupted his playtime with Dumbfuck.

"Are you saying that Mr. Number one hero left a depressed teenager on a ten-story building, right after telling him something very clearly potentially triggering?"

"Who said I was depressed?"

"Kid,  I'm not stupid enough  to pass you general angst as regular teenager shenanigans."
"You know what? That's fair," Robin sighed, and for a moment, Shouta saw the same sadness settling on the teenager's shoulders. Oftentimes it was easy for the hero to forget it, but Robin was still a child. A child, on the ledge of a building, wearing a middle school uniform and looking as if he had seen all the injustice in the world unable to do anything about it. It reminded Shouta of himself, right after Shirakumo's death.

"Hey kid, how come you called me to come here more than an hour ago, aren't your parents going to be worried if you get home this late?" Shouta knew the answer, of course, he knew. But a little confirmation was really the only thing in between him and kidnaping a vigilante. No way was he going to let Robin go to a neglecting home after the teenager called him, a pro hero, in me middle of the day, without his mask or any guarantee of coming out of his situation without being arrested. God, he had really gone soft, hadn't he?

Still, a small part of him hoped. Maybe all of his investigating and theorizing was wrong. Maybe Robin had great parents, and he was simply very good at sneaking out. A glance at the vigilante's eyes proved him wrong.

"Trust me Eraser, the last thing my  mom is thinking about is me not being home." And wasn't that a punch in the gut? Robin looked so sure about his statement as if what he said should have been as obvious as "The sky is blue" or "All Might is stupid".  Seriously, the kid was just asking for it at that point.

"That's it, sign here." Shouta was quick, taking the hidden documents from under his protective vest. Robin looked confused, which was fair.
"Uhm, WUT."

"Sign these, they are emergency guardianship papers"  Was he being too blunt? Probably, but enough was enough. As he deposited the papers on the ledge between him and the vigilante, Shouta finished taking in the details of Robin's appearance. The kid's uniform was incredibly dirty as if someone had dragged it through the mud. One of the sleeves was signed and burnt. There were patches everywhere, and Shouta was not stupid enough to consider a trained vigilante clumsy enough to simply ruin his school uniform like that on accident.

"What in the Oogway? What do you mean guardianship papers?" Robin took no time in picking up the documents and reading them, his green eyes running rapidly through the pages, lingering on the places where Shouta had already signed. The vigilante's eyes were growing bigger with each passing page, both wonder and disbelief crossing his expression at the same time.

"What do you think I mean problem child? You are being adopted," ok he definitely was being too harsh, but the sooner Robin was under his care the better. The only situation would be explaining to Hizashi why he was coming back home with a middle schooler in tow, but Shouta would cross that bridge when he got to it. Good thing Dumbfuck was used to strangers, hopefully, Robin wasn't allergic to cats. "Now sign there and tell me where you live so we can pick up your stuff."

Now, there were a lot of ways that interaction could have gone. Shouta had no way to know how Robin would react to suddenly having a hero trusting technically adoption papers his way. Shock, that was to be expected. Confusion? Sure.

But unhinged laughter? That was a new one. Because as he looked for a pen on his enormous yellow backpack, Robin couldn't stop laughing. Shouta had no idea whether he should be offended or concerned, but Robin signed In the indicated places in a matter of seconds, and all the stress the hero was feeling melted from his shoulders.

"God my daddy issues must be having a field day with my tendency of having brooding superheroes that adopt children compulsively and wear exclusively black as mentors," the kid was smiling as he handed Shouta the documents back. The same sadness as usual still shining behind the vigilante's eyes, but the smile still reached them. Shouta had never seen him smiling so genuinely before, and the thought made a warm feeling flutter inside his heart."I'm Izuku by the way, may as well introduce myself if we are going to live together from now on."

Shouta couldn't help but smile. "Shouta Aizawa. Let's go problem child, we better get there before night."

Chapter Text

Aizawa Shouta was a very pragmatic person. He planned all of his moves and attacks fairly in advance and most of his battles were either fought alone or with people he trusted. 

So of course that him fighting alongside a clearly teenage vigilante twice, getting himself a foster license, and immediately started keeping adoption papers on his person at all times, was also a very calculated move, and not at all him being soft for gremlin children who talked back and were full of potential. Of course not, that would be stupid.

So what if for two years he kept the papers under his bulletproof best, hoping for the right moment to ask Robin. So what if he was keeping tabs on Robin's behavior around other adult heroes and every non-hero-related injury he could notice on the kid, in case he wanted to start a case against his "parents". 

So what if, on the strange occasions when Robin didnt show up to patrol in their usual area, Shouta spent the night searching the papers for mortuaries of quirkless teenagers, terrified that he would turn the page and find his son protege as one of the names listed. Shouta would have probably done the exact same thing for any other hero he fought alongside for two years, right? (That was, of course, a lie. But Shouta was not ready to accept how much he cared for Robin, no not Robin, Izuku).

That was, of course, until he put one foot on the kid's old apartment. 

To say it was bare would be an understatement. The apartment looked picture-perfect, like a display of a furniture store. Izuku had entered before him, and for the first time in the years of fighting together, the kid looked honestly nervous. Not afraid, but not calm either, a strange balance that filled Shouta with dread.

"Izuku Midoriya, what do you think you are doing coming home this late!? "The kid stiffened, and Shouta was confronted with the source of his protege's nervousness. A woman, not much taller than Izuku himself, who looked at her son with a level of disgust people usually reserved for especially nasty bugs.  Shouta despised her the second the woman spoke, and yet she had the audacity to keep going. "And who is this man? Have you lost your mind bringing a hobo to the house? I get you like attention, but this is getting out of hand!"

"Actually miss, my name is Eraserhead, I'm a pro hero," lucky for her, Shouta was used to dealing with unsavory individuals. He didn't fail to notice the subtle way Robin had moved to stand slightly behind him. "I'm here to take custody of Izuku, I have the papers right here. I only need your signature, and Izuku won't be your problem anymore." 

He hated those words. "Not your problem", as if the kid was just a problem and not her child. It seemed to be the right thing to say though because the woman's demeanor instantly changed. 

"Well, you should have started with that! Have a seat Eraserhead sir, I'll sing those right away."

If he were a lesser man, Shouta would have turned the woman into a hashtag right then and there. He wasn't though, so he simply followed her to the kitchen table, noticing without failure how a heavyweight seemed to have suddenly lifted from Izuku's shoulders. 

This was the right decision after all.

In his defense, Izuku hadn't slept in at least 56 hours. He didn’t realize how sleep-deprived he was up until he signed the papers on the spot without questioning Eraser's intentions.

It was obvious in retrospect. He’d been on patrol all night, and all the teen drama and villain attacks were exhausting. Ass Might hadn’t exactly helped either, and the sleep deprivation, the two litters of deadly expresso he had that morning, and the light concussion were definitely what made Izuku accept so quickly.

No energy for brain cells, just daddy issues.

The fact that, for that moment, Eraser looked almost exactly like Bruce had all those years prior, was not exactly helping Izuku keep things professional either.

Ok maybe it wasn’t just for a moment, but during that second it was more obvious than ever before.

And here they were, in front of his ‘bedroom’ door, Inko making no move to keep Izuku in her custody.

Maybe, before Bruce and Gotham, he would have felt hurt or insulted by her indifference. But in all honestly, Izuku had grown accustomed to that a long time ago. She had done nothing for him in the past two years, and even before his time travel, Inko was distant. Not that Inko knew about him being in the past for that week Izuku went missing, but still. 

Hell Inko hadn't even been the one who reported him missing after the attack, it had been one of his teachers. Sometimes Izuku wondered if Inko wished he had never come back.

He would have liked that too, but oh well, the world isn't fair.

Eraser (Or should Izuku call him Aizawa now? Doesn't matter, focus) opened the door to Dick Izuku's bedroom with an impassive look in his eyes. At least for anyone who didn't know him well. Izuku had fought beside the man enough times to understand his minimal expressions and body language. 

Eraser was nervous. Oh, what a wonderful and useless talent. Ten points to the guy who can read one (1) person! yay, Izuku!

"This is your room?" Eraser sounded very unsettled, and Izuku couldn't blame him.

Listen, Izuku Richard Midoriya Grayson Wayne (or whatever his name was, brain too tired to decide), was a lot of things. An idiot was decidedly not one of them. He knew what abuse looked like, knew that if he were a normal teenager, Inko's behavior towards him would have been extremely damaging.

Izuku knew that way back when, before growing up AGAIN with the Graysons, it had affected him. Blurry memories of summer nights crying himself to sleep in that closet. Of asking any god that was listening, Why him? 

So yeah, he knew any rational adult would be disgusted, or at least perturbed, at the idea of Inko keeping his "14" year old in a closet, when they lived in a three-bedroom apartment. Eraser had every right to sound unsettled, if anything he was taking it better than Izuku thought he would.

(Bruce would have exploded if he found out. Gotham would have known no rest until he found Inko and handed her over for abusive neglect. Izuku was trying really hard not to think about Bruce right that second.)

"The faster we start, the faster we can leave, don't think about it too much."

Because truth be told, Izuku didn't want to stay more time than it was needed packing. Because deep down, he longed to have a place to call home again, and he had a hunch that place would be found in Eraser's house. 

Yup, he was definitely way too tired for coherent thoughts.

Chapter Text

When Shouta told him "I'm bringing the kid home", Hizashi thought the only reasonable thing. His husband had found another injured cat in a dumpster and they were getting a new son. They already had Dumbfuck and Arson (Shouta's names) But, Hizashi was always ready for more cat kids.

He was not expecting Shouta to show up with an actual human child in tow. 

In retrospect, he should have fucking known it. Shouta had been preparing to try and forcibly adopt Robin for almost two years, he was bound to succeed sooner or later. Hizashi himself had been ready to take the kid (He really was just a kid huh) into their home. 

He looked like hell on earth. There were deep purpled bags under his eyes that rivaled those of Hizashi's husband. His school uniform looked battered and dirty, patches covering most of the fabric, and he was carrying a big yellow backpack that looked just as mangled.

Hizashi was already making plans to replace both of those things when his husband closed the door behind him, a dark look on his face he tried to conceal upon seeing Robin. "Hizashi, this is Izuku Midoriya, aka Robin. Robin, this is my husband Hizashi Aizawa Yamada, aka Present Mic."

"Wait for a second, you are married?" Robin looked dumbfounded, looking back between Shouta and him every few seconds. There was a sly smirk on his face, one Hizashi knew too well from his own husband. It was no mystery to him why Shouta had taken such a liking to the kid. 

"Got a problem with that?" 

"Oh not at all, I'm just surprised someone married you," There was a lightheartedness to the kid's tired tone, practiced ease as he teased Shouta. Looking at Shouta he could see his husband smiling too.

"Hush problem child, I'm not that bad." The kid seemed like he was about to refute that statement, but Hizashi decided to but in before they could continue. He knew his husband, and he could very easily forget about his surroundings when entertained. The kid looked like he could use a good nap and a warm meal, it would be unfair for him to keep pushing diner back just to keep on their banter.

"That's enough you two, hi I'm Hizashi, " he extended a hand, which Izuku seemed doubtful about while he shook it. "You look tired, why don't I take you to your room to unpack while we make dinner?"

"I'll cook," Shouta quickly went into the kitchen, probably eager to greet their cats like he did every afternoon, while Hizashi guided the kid through their home. The second his husband disappeared, Robin became guarded, an invisible wall appearing between him and the kid. A wall built of bricks and concrete, hard but not impossible to break. A wall Hizashi had, once again, seen before on his own husband.

"This is your room, Shouta and I are down the hall and the door there is the bathroom," He opened the door closest to the living room, the extra room Shouta had prepared with a bed and desk more than a year prior. Izuku nodded before going into the room, looking around as if assessing any dangers. A reaction Hizashi was used to seeing older heroes have, and his heart ached for the kid. Still, he kept his smile on, just like always, trying to be cheerful. "Call if you need anything, me and Sho will be in the kitchen."

"Ok," Robin said with a strangely perfect English accent, before closing the door behind him.  Hizashi walked to the kitchen where his husband was already starting to make something, chopping some green onions while deep in thought. He wrapped his arms around Shouta's wait, easily placing his head on top of the shorter man. Shouta simply hummed and continued cooking.

" So, you got the child," He could feel Shouta laughing slightly, the sound rumbling on his chest.

"God, you make it sound like I kidnapped him or something," Shouta was making some pork cutlets and covering them in panko to be fried. Judging by the rice cooker being on, he was making Katsudon. A more complex recipe than Hizashi was used to seeing his husband make, but it was food nonetheless so he wouldn't point it out. It was a special occasion after all.

He could still remember the first time Sho brought the kid up in conversation. As an underground hero it wasn't uncommon for Eraser head to be seen working with vigilantes, but he barely ever mentioned work at home. Maybe that's why it had surprised Hizashi so much when Shouta said "There is a new vigilante who's been popping around, we've worked together lately."

And then Shouta had talked about his suspicions about Robin being a child and the room had felt colder. And talks about the vigilante became a frequent thing because as much as he'd like to deny it, Hizashi knew his husband had a big heart that was bleeding for the child. 

But they could focus on that later. For now, Hizashi was happy to just spend this time in silence with his husband as he cooked, humming an old American song to fill the comfortable silence. 

Dick was trying to focus on his task, but if he was being honest it was starting to prove very difficult.

He'd check the calendar several times, done all the math, and even revised his notes to make sure they were right. At the end of the day, of course, they had been. He had always known his departure from the past was inevitable, or at least he had known ever since Bruce first turned him into Robin. 

And that prophetized day was exactly one week away. One more week, that was all that he got.  And h e didn't want to admit it, but Richard "Dick" Grayson was absolutely terrified. He would never admit it, of course not. He couldn't admit it, not even to himself.

There was so much he wanted to do, so much more he wanted to see. Dick thought about Jason's birthday, a month after his departure, or the trip Bruce had promised if the teen managed to finish high school. So many missions, so many mysteries, so many people he wouldn't be able to help any more.

If  he was being honest, Dick didn't remember much from his childhood, not the first one at least. If he thought about his parents the picture of the Graysons popped up (And maybe, sometimes Bruce's, but that was neither here nor there), and when he thought about home he thought of Gotham, not Musutafu.

That city didn't even exist yet, and it wouldn't exist for another two hundred years at least. Not until after the quirk wars and the destruction of Tokyo. He couldn't even remember his old name of his old home. He knew his life hadn't been great, but not any details. 

Of course, if anyone asked him, Dick would place his mask back on and deny it. He would tell a joke or make a sarcastic comment. He would pat Jason on the back and tell him not to worry, reminding Bruce that they both knew this date was coming. 

But not right now. Right now Dick needed to focus on fixing the Batarang's detonation function and that was that. Denial was a powerful beast, after all, one that Dick would feed until the last possible moment.

To say that Dick was tired would be an understatement. Or was it Izuku? Yes, it was Izuku now, brain asleep.

He knew he hadn't slept in over sixty hours at that point, and that if Alfred could see him there would be a broom-shaped hole partying his hair.

Still, Izuku couldn't go to sleep yet. He was not an animal, the Graysons and Bruce had raised him right thank you very much. He was glad Eraser and Yamada had left him alone to unpack his stuff into his new room (It was still weird to have so much space again, it would take him a while to get used to), but Dick really wasn't planning on using the loneliness to sleep. Eraser had said he was going to cook dinner after all, and it would be stupidly impolite to just skip dinner his first day in, no matter how terrified he was of the prospect of Eraser's cooking.

In his defense, Izuku had seen that man consume nothing but jelly packs and energy drinks for two years, that man was a heathen. Scratch that, heathen was too nice for Eraser's eating habits.

"Menace to society", now that was more accurate.

He was finishing accommodating his green arrow comforter when someone knocked on the door. 

Yamada was smiling, like sincerely smiling. It was a new pace for sure. "Shouta told me to get you, dinner's ready."

"Oh thank you, I'll be right there," It was awkward, but to be fair Izuku hadn't had to talk to normal adults in a long time, he'd forgotten how to do small talk. Plus, what was he supposed to say, 'thanks for letting me live in your house now that your husband is technically my legal guardian?' That would just be awkward. Maybe if he had a bit more sleep on his bones Dick would have thought of something to say, but as it was there was an awkward silence at the moment which just made everything more uncomfortable. 

Luckily for him, apparently, Yamada didn't feel it was awkward. Instead, the man looked inside the room, his eyes glowing. "Oh I really like vintage heroes, you know the Green Arrow?"

"Oh yeah, it's an inside joke though, I prefer Batman." Later Izuku would slap himself for saying that, but present Izuku was on autopilot. Turns out 60 hours of uninterrupted consciousness doesn't help already limited small talk capacities.  Yamada didn't seem to notice anything weird about his statement though, the man simply smiled once more.

"Well dinner is ready, so just come whenever you are ready." And then he just, left. And Izuku was way too tired to question it so he followed Yamada to the dining room/kitchen. Eraser was already sitting at the table, a cat meowing happily on his lap as the hero pet him.  Or well, Eraser didn't look much like a hero at the moment, the stained sweatpants as pajamas look only made him look more like a homeless man than he usually did.  

And yet, there was something so perfectly cozy about the picture. Izuku took his spot at the table, across from Yamada and next to Eraser. And he knew what the meal was even before Eraser could lift up the plates covering it so it wouldn't get cold.

"Katsudon." Maybe on another day he would have kept the walls up, but as it was, Izuku smiled. And so did Eraser when he noticed his face as he stared at his favorite food. His favorite food since way before coming back from the past, which no one had prepared for him in more than two years. (He would definitely deny the fact that he'd been about to cry later when Eraser tried teasing him about it.)

Chapter Text

10 months.

Izuku had been living with Eraser and Mic for ten months, and it had 1: Been nice, and quite fun, and 2:Erased (he) any kind of respect he had for the erasure hero.

And he like liked it, even if Aizawa now reminded him more than ever of Bruce. And honestly, no one could expect him to see a grown man apologize to his cat almost in tears cause he stepped on his tail while holding a tuna sandwich as far away from the kitty as possible and still think of him as a serious brooding figure.

Aizawa the dorky cat parent hadn't been the best part no, only the sprinkle of future blackmail to sweeten the deal.

Izuku had forgotten what it was like to just exist.

And sure, it had only happened because he was stupid enough to not sleep in like 52 hours and weakened himself to the influence of the Dadzawa tm (and he would admit, sleep-deprived Izuku wasn't the smartest Izuku) but hey, now he wasn't living in a closet, plus Aizawa had immediately pulled him out of Aldera and into a different middle school where he may not have had friends but at least he wasn't being "bullied" by a rabid pomeranian.

The fact that Yamada knew everything that was to be known about the golden era of pre-quirk heroism was also a plus. And yes, Izuku loved to infodump about his friends and family sue him. It was a little bit frightening how much Yamada knew about him too, but also hilarious. And Izuku wished he could tell him about what it had been really like, about Bruce and Jason, and Alfred, but there was no way he would believe him so he kept it to himself. 

So yeah, great ten months, nice to have a family again kinda (Or at least live with people who didn't hate him) and that leaves us here. 

Izuku could almost call the doors to UA intimidating. Emphasis on the almost. The school towered overhead, casting a shadow on the middle schoolers nervously entering the building. He could see the fear etched in their eyes, the conviction too, and the energy was almost contagious.

But the building was shaped like an H for Hero, and Izuku had to make the conscious decision to Not laugh out loud. That was the corny stuff he expected from Superman, not from the most prestigious hero school in Japan. It wasn't even subtle, the hallway connecting the two main buildings  screamed "structural idiocy" and Izuku was loving every second of the architectural design nightmare that was the place. And oops, here came the floor.

Izuku had already made peace the idea he would kiss the concrete when someone slapped his back and now he was floating. Interesting, very interesting.

"Oh sorry, that's my quirk sorry I used it without permission I just thought it would be bad luck to fall right before the exam," a girl was talking to him, and after he was upright in the air she touched her fingers to each other and Izuku felt the gravity returning.

"Don't apollogize, that's a very cool power you got there," Izuku smiled at her, extending a hand "Izuku Midoriya, thanks for the help."

The girl smiled brightly "Ochako Uraraka! I better get going, dont want to be late for the exam." She disaprared through the doors, Izuku following shortly after once he had checked none of his support gear had fallen out of his bag.

He followed the mass of students guided by Ectoplasm into the auditorium (which was comically massive as well) and found his numbered seat quickly enough.

He was taking the general exam. Aizawa and Yamada had, of course, offered him a Spot in the recommendation exam list, but Izuku immediately denied it.

It wasn't because of a grand reason like proving himself or some shit, hell no. If he was being honest, the only reason he didn't want to take the easy exam (and according to what he'd heard the recommendation exam was definitely easier) was that he didn't want to deal with the trouble.

He could already see the headlines "Quirkless idiot takes recommendation spot at UA" and he didn't even want to think about the press finding out his legal guardian was the teacher of 1A. Yeah no, no thanks, he would just take the regular exam and avoid the whole being an attempt at a nepotism baby thing.

In almost 400 years, one would think reporters would learn to get a grip on decent human decency or something but alas, here they were. Just like technology, the morality of the vultures had frozen over in the 21 century.

Apparently, God absolutely hated his ass, because, of course, Bakugo was already sitting in the spot right next to his, the scowl on his face rivaling that of a Pekingese. And Izuku would usually find his anger adorable, but he hadn't had enough caffeine in his system to deal with the human equivalent of an angry chihuahua since Aizawa confiscated his prohibited coffee cause it was "bad for him" and "shortening his life span". 

So here he was, Monday morning, about to take a very important exam, not nearly enough coffee inside his system, and Bakugo looking like he was about to curse his entire lineage. And he probably was doing it, but Izuku had learned to filter out the bullshit Bakugo said so as to not hear it. Plus the exam was starting, Ectoplasm clones already delivering the test papers, and Bakugo may have the self-preservation of a Yorkshire terrier but he still was bright enough to not try and kill someone in the entrance exam to a hero school.

The exam was about ten pages long, and it reminded Izuku painfully of the SATs in plain sight, but upon opening it Izuku left out a sigh of relief. It was full of trick questions and thought exercises. Even the maths section was full of traps, and he couldnt help but grin. This had Nezu written all over, and though he had only met the rat a couple of times, it was always delightful to see the chaos of that evil genius. 

Izuku decided to go question by question, just because he was smart and had already passed the SATs didn't mean he was guaranteed to pass this monstrosity, but he still smiled at each no problem. And then he reached the heroics section, and Dick positively beamed.

"Who was the first American Superhero registered in the archives?" The first question stared at him, and Izuku knew a lit of people would be stumped in this one. Because people studied quirk history, because people tended to ignore the golden era of American heroics just because it was pre quirk.

And Izuku knew it like the back of his hand, and he was there in the inauguration of the archives. 

"During the creation of the still standing hero archives, in what is now known as the golden age of American heroics, Batman, also known as the Dark Knight, was the first to be registered."

Izuku breezed through the rest of the questions, smiling to himself any time one mentioned him or Bruce or one of their friends, and by the time he had finished the small analysis essay, he was sure he had passed. He closed his exam, placed his pencil on top of it, and just waited.

He could feel people staring at him, and just a look around proved him why. No one else had closed their exam yet. In any other situation Izuku would have laughed, especially after seeing Bakugo's anger ridden face. The Maltese looked like he was about to have an aneurysm with how much his forehead vein was popping. Izuku didn't want to risk being kicked out of the exam hall, so he just smiled politely Bakugo's way and then just focus his sight on the front of the room.

And Bakugo seemed to take the hint,  since the mini poodle equivalent went immediately back to his exam. Though Izuku would be lying if he said that the angry noises he was making didn't make him smile. Another plus of not going to Aldera anymore, free range to mess with Bakugo aka The human Pug. (And yes he was technically an adult, but Bakugo was a bully so that meant free range of being a little shit against him :3)

The exam continued without problem after that. One of Ectoplasm's clones came to take his finished test away, and Izuku decided to finally take a nap while the others finished (he had read the manual, there was nothing against that on the rules, plus Aizawa was a bad influence.)

He was woken up by a loud throat clearing behind him. A guy with blue hair and lenses was glaring daggers into him, and Izuku didn't have the energy. Upon further inspection, the guys stil had his exam open, so he was an idiot as well. "Excuse me, you shouldn't be sleeping during an entrance exam, it's disrespectful to the school and faculty."

"No talking during the exam! This is the last warning before your papers are removed." Izuku had never been more thankfull for a teacher In his entire life. The guy went red as a tomatoe and Izuku had to make the Olympic effort to not smirk at him before going back to his nap.

Another hour passed, the timer officially ended, and Izuku woke up to the alarm. He felt well rested enough, it seemed like a little post exam nap was all that he needed. And if the blue guy was still glaring at him, well that was in between him and God now so Izuku couldn't give less of a fuck.

Chapter Text

Dick Grayson was a lot of things, nervous was not One of them. The macaroon batter he was aggressively piping onto an oven tray would beg to differ.

Ok maybe he was a little bit nervous, but at least he could take his frustration on squeezing the living fuck out of the pipping bag instead of someone's neck (not that it didnt sound tempting)

Dick really didnt understand what made him so nervous anyways. He'd checked his notes, and in almost six months times he would "mysteriously" disappear from the face of the earth, and nothing he'd accomplished as either Robin or Dick Grayson would matter. 

He wouldn't matter.

Focusing on the macaroons was definitely a better use of his lacking mental energy than that thought though.

Dick hadn't noticed he was working in almost complete darkness until the lights got abruptly turned on (if anyone asked later he did not scream when it happened, but that was beside the point.)

"Didn't Alfred ban us from the kitchen?" Jason was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a devious smirk on his face. It would probably be threatening if the thirteen-year-old wasn't also wearing duckie pajamas.

"Correction, you were banned from the kitchen after the incident."

Jason made an undignified squawk, "Fuck you, I didn't do shit."

"You burned water!"

Jason simply blew him a raspberry as he sneakily took some of the macaroon batter on his finger, putting it in his mouth before Dick could do anything. He was smug for exactly one second before the older gave him a swift hit in the back of the head. "Hands off the batter."

"Oh come on, let me have some they are pistachio!"

"Exactly, and you will wait," Jason grumbled a bit more, but he sat down to dwell on the disappointment of his unsuccessful desert heist instead of living, and silently Dick was grateful for that. With Alfred on a trip, the kitchen got kinda lonely for his late-night baking.

"What got you so stressed anyways, you don't do this kind of three am shit unless you are thinking about stuff."

Dick sighed, putting the tray with the macaroon batter in the oven before looking over at Jason. He didn't want to explain it all to a thirteen-year-old, but he knew he would know no peace until he did if Jason Todd was one thing was persistent. It was endearing when he wasn't being the most annoying little shit and using that thought-headedness to ask "Are we there yet" fifty times in five minutes during trips. 

"Im just worried about the SATs." Jason looked as unimpressed as he felt with the excuse. 

"I call bullshit, I've seen you worried about school, this is something else."

"Well, tough luck 'cause it's the explanation I will give you."
"Nu hu, tell me the truth."

"No thank you"

"Spill up bitch, I'm going to therapize you."

"One, not a word, two, you are thirteen, I'm not getting therapy from a child."

"Tell me or I scream and I wake up Bruce and we are both in trouble."

"Bold of you to assume I haven't been awake this whole time Jason." This time it was both him and Jason who jumped, Bruce smirking at them from the kitchen door.

"Motherfucker, how long have you been there!" Dick grabbed his chest as he tried to regain his breath, while Jason had fallen on his but and seemed to have resigned himself to a life on the floor. Bruce just stood there laughing as the robins reclaimed their dignity, albeit poorly.

"Like five minutes, anyways what's got you so pressed kid, I haven't seen you make so much stuff since you lost that bet and had to tail Superman for a week." Bruce still sounded smug, but there was an undertone there, of earnest worry that Dick couldnt just ignore. Jason was also looking at him from his spot on the floor, worry in his eyes, and Dick knew they had won.

He sighed, taking a deep breath before speaking, "Today is six months until I disappear, I have half a year left here."

A pin dropping could have been heard loud and clear as Dick started putting away the baking equipment. Bruce still frozen on the door, Jason string at him from his spot on the floor. It was a sore subject, his disappearance, it had always been. Just because they knew it was gonna happen didn't mean they were okay with it.  Wordlessly Bruce moved to stand next to him, helping him wash the dishes and putting them away without saying a word. Jason seemed to take the hint as he simply sat back down on the table, in silence. 

And it was nice. In any other context, they could pass as a family just finishing washing after dinner. But as it was, Dick was grateful that they were there with him. At least for now, he could pretend things would stay that way forever.

Izuku was confident he had passed the written portion of the exam, and the practical test had also gone great. He'd beat up bots with a stick, had helped Uraraka by beating the zero-pointers with an Electrical stick, and he was confident he'd gotten enough points to pass.

And yet here he was, at three a.m., making chocolate cappuccino cupcakes while he waited for his lemon curd to chill.

Back when he still lived with Inko Izuku had gotten used to just patrolling when he was stressed about anything (Not that he was stressed now, it was just a stupid exam) but now that wasn't an option. It had been eight months since the last time he was out on the field, and Izuku was very close to losing it. He understood why he couldnt go out, absolutely if word got out that the kid living under Eraserhead's roof was an unlicensed vigilante shit would hit the fan and nobody would be having a good time.

That didnt mean he had to like it.

Technically he hadn't been breaking any laws. Vigilantism was worded as quirk use, he was quirkless. Aizawa had seemed unimpressed by his logic on that one, reminding him that assault and battery was still illegal without a license in which it was "justified" cause they were heroes and blah blah blah. Possible moral implications of that whole ordeal aside, Izuku had met his true archnemesis at this time, bureaucracy.

So yes, normal means of stress relief aside, Izuku carefully measured the batter of each cup before putting his muffins in the oven. He was deciding what to do for toppings (Chocolate buttercream or Italian meringue) when the lights in the kitchen turned on and Izuku found himself jumping feet into the air. (And if he screamed for his life that was between him and whatever god decided to spite him that day)

"Child for the love of all that is holy, it's three a.m what the fuck are you doing here" Aizawa was looking at him with that permanent unimpressed stare of his, mixed with a disbelief Izuku hadn't seen in an adult since he and Jason had released one hundred live bats inside the Batcave for the "aesthetic".

"What the fuck does it seem that Im doing, I'm baking," he said deadpan, before going back to deciding his topping. Aizawa simply sighed, before filling up his coffee mug and sitting at the kitchen island next to him.

"Do I even want to know why you are baking at three a.m. on a Monday? Nezu is gonna be pissed if you fall asleep in his class tomorrow and Im not going to deal with that one for you child." 

Izuku couldnt help but shudder at the idea of an angry Nezu, (As glad as he was about being pulled out of middle school, having that rat as a private teacher was terrifying and every day he wondered who had given him a teaching license), but deep down he knew the worst that could happen was getting adopted by another hobo hero, after all that was what happened the last time he didn't sleep for more than forty hours. As things stood, Izuku just shrugged. "It helps me de-stress ya know? Gives me something to do while waiting for the exam result."

 "This is about the exam? Kid you cannot seriously think you haven't passed, I promise you did well."

"No offense my dude, but you aren't exactly an impartial party here."

"That's true." Aizawa shrugged, before wordlessly going to the sink and starting to wash the dishes as Izuku whisked the heavy whipping cream he needed for his frosting. And it was a familiar image, reminiscent of a different time, in a different kitchen, with a different set of people that Dick Izuku had grown to consider his family. 

And if Aizawa noticed the rebellious tear that rolled down his face at the thought, the hero kept his mouth shut. And once again, Izuku was happy someone was willing to stay with him, in peaceful silence, as the late night became less lonely.

Chapter Text

From the moment he woke up Izuku was having a no good very bad day. This was due to a number of reasons, the first and most important one was that he, Izuku Midoriya aka Richard Grayson aka Robin the Boy Wonder, aka Robin the vigilante, was around 20-something years old and looking at himself wearing a high school uniform for the second time in his way too long for his stature life.

Being completely honest he had gotten bored of counting his age some time around when he turned nine in Gotham, wich was technically twenty-two, but he didn't really remember the first twelve years so did they count at all? He had somehow acquired the brain of a toddler (albeit, a very mature one) after all. But he didn't feel like a nine year old, or a twelve year old. Back then Richard Grayson had just felt tired. And tired meant no brain for math, which meant he had no idea what his age actually was.

All he knew was that he had already graduated high school once and yet here he fucking was, preparing for his first day AGAIN. And the worst part was that it had been his choice to go to UA, a decision taken out of spite that was making him hate his past self just a little.

He stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes said "I'm trying to burn this uniform with my mind", and for the first time since he had first appeared in Gotham, Izuku really wished he had a superpower (sorry, a Quirk) so he could make that a reality.

As things stood, Izuku couldn't actually do it and he just looked like the uniform had personally offended him, which it had. Two full years of an elite Gotham private middle school convincing Bruce of the merits of public education, only to STILL end up in a stuffy grey uniform for high school. Sheesh, one would think a superhero school in the literal future would at least have more exciting-looking uniforms.

After five more minutes of glaring at himself in the mirror Izuku left his room, the sound of soft music and the smell of toast guiding him to the kitchen.

"Good morning listener!" As soon as Izuku entered the kitchen, Yamada placed a plate full to the brim with golden scrambled eggs and a piece of toast in front of his usual place, right in front of where Eraser was reading a newspaper while holding a cup of deathwish coffee (A cup Izuku was very jealous off since he had been forbidden from his deathly blend by his doctor.) The eggs were fluffy and slightly watery, just like he liked them, and Izuku had to admit, from all the changes his life had suffered in the past months (years), one of the better ones was meeting Hizashi Yamada. For every instance Eraser served as a painful reminder of Bruce, Hizashi was the first time since living with his parents the Graysons that Izuku felt that kind of care.

It was nice.

"So Izuku, nervous for your first day of high school?" the teenager scoffed between mouthfuls of egg as if the notion in itself was insulting. 

"Nervous? No just annoyed that I won't have a way to escape Eraser's ugly mug." 

"Likewise gremlin child, I can feel the migraine speaking off Hizashi pass the meds imma pack them to go." Eraser's reply was instant, the hero not even looking up from his newspaper as he retorted. Mic snorted at the exchange, and Izuku couldn't help but let a grin form on his own face, he enjoyed having someone to banter. 

"Don't lie Eraser, you know you love me."

"Yes problem child but that doesn't change the fact that I'm still weighing the probability of you blowing up the school." Izuku tried his darndest not to react to Erasers words even though warmth appeared in his chest (Fuck brooding parental figures and the effect they had on him), and he just kept eating. The eggs were good, he still hadn't managed to figure out what exactly Mic did to make them taste so good. Speaking of, he was suddenly sneek attacked by a hand ruffling his hair making him squawk indignantly much to his guardian's amusement.

"Im off the the station, bye Izu see you in third period, Shota don't give any students heart attacks last year was enough, love you bye!"

"Bye!" Izuku tried to say, but with the egg it sounded more like a sheep 'bah'. Eraser grunted his acknowledgment, never one to be too expressive before ten am, but Izuku knew he would probably kiss his husband hello once they met in the teachers lounge to compensate.

He wondered when exactly it happened, that he started to understand Aizawa and Yamada like hed knew them his whole life. When exactly they had started to feel so... familiar to him. Luckyly for Izuku, it was soon time for him and Eraser to leave for UA, and he was incredibly grateful the hero had a car he could drive him in to not have to deal with public transport. Plus even if he would never say it to Eraser's face, he deeply enjoyed the one on one time he got with Eraser during their drives to UA.

Soon enough Izuku was standing in front of class 1A, glad they had arrived so early to not have any other students to bother him as he located his desk and promptly decided it was time to take a nap.

“Fuck off I'm not wearing that!” Jason stood arms crossed, looking at Dick in the eye with nothing but hatred as the older held up a black tailored suit. The Image was almost comical, or it would be if they weren’t running stupidly late and Richard wasn’t running on two hours of sleep.

Dick sighed, covering his face with his hand in exasperation at the kid's tantrum.  ”Come on brat it’s for five minutes, we take the pictures and that’s it, stop being so dramatic over a suit.”

“Why do we even have to take these pictures anyways, I don’t care!” Jason stomped on the hardwood floor, which must have been painful given that he was barefoot, but if it did hurt the kid didn’t show it. He just kept looking at the suit in Dick’s hands with determined hatred, “It’s just a picture for a stupid magazine, you can do it without me!” Jason accentuated his frase by slamming his door in Dick's face and barely not obliterating his amazing nose (at least according to himself).

In turn, Richard, who was definitely more mature than the twelve-year-old shut up Bruce, began knocking at the door with all the strength he could muster to accentuate his own words. God, he was usually so good at playing it cool, but he was beginning to lose his patience, something that was happening more and more when it came to Jason. He could hear Bruce in the back of his mind 'You two are more alike than you think' or some shit like that, but he decided to pointedly ignore it.

When Bruce told him he was bringing in a new Robin, Dick hadn’t been that surprised. He held the vague memory of there exiting a period when two Robins were running around before one disappeared forever, he’d imagined that would coincide with his return to the future. Expecting his sudden appearance wasn’t synonymous with getting along well with the kid.

"No we can’t, they want to meet the new member of the Wayne family, why is it so hard for your thick brain to understand that!” 

“I am not part of this family, just some stupid pity case, just leave me alone!” Richard sighed, lowering his closed fist with which he had been knocking till the pained tone of the kid made him stop in his tracks.

Oh, Dick hated it when Bruce was right.

The kid, Jason, had sounded almost to tears, angry tears for sure but tears nonetheless. And it took him right back to his first few weeks (months) at the Wayne manor. Back when he still didn't know about the bat, back when Bruce was just a random rich guy who saw the newest orphan in town and decided to take him in.

Back when he still hadn't figured everything out, and the only thing Dick knew was that his parents were dead and in his mind his one purpose in life had become giving brownie points to a billionaire.

He sat down, his back against the door, ironed suit forgotten on the floor, and just began humming. It was a song he hadn't thought about in a while, but that he knew by heart. The song his mom used to sing to him as a child, back when the noise of the ever-changing streets and other cast members became too much and Richard needed help calming down enough to sleep. A long time had passed since he forgot the exact lyrics, but nothing could take the melody away.

It took a few minutes, but he could feel the door opening and he wordlessly squatted to the side to give Jason room to sit next to him. He almost expected the kid to just step on him, but to his surprise Jason sat down without protest, bringing his knees close to his chest and hugging them. Like they were, Dick couldn't help but notice just how small, young, Jason looked and a pit of guilt settled in his stomach.

The weird silence lasted for a minute before Richard felt brave enough to start talking.

"You know, my last name isn't Wayne." Jason turned to look at him, expression unsure, but since the kid didn't say anything he just kept talking. "Bruce is my legal guardian, he adopted me, but I didn't want to lose the name Grayson, especially since when he asked what I wanted to do he was still a stranger. And I hated him, hated that a billionaire could just adopt the high-profile orphan and get cookie points, and that I had to be grateful on top of it. I fucking hated it, and I hated him and everything that had to do with being a part of "The Wayne family."

"What changed?" For once, Jason was very quiet. It was a rare sight, for the kid to not be yelling, or growling, or cursing. That same guilt returned, though Richard didn't know why. He just placed his hand on top of Jason's head.

"I realized two very annoying things, first, being Robin is stupid fucking cool, and second," He stopped, smiling softly as Jason before continuing "He was genuine, and so was Alfred, and we didn't need to pretend to be a 'real family', but it was nice to not be alone."

He got up, dusting off his dress pants before he extended a hand towards Jason who took it after only a moment of hesitation. Dick smiled and barely resisted the urge to hug the kid, not wanting to erase the small progress they made. 

Instead, he took out his dress shirt and tie, revealing a Superman t-shirt underneath. Jason himself was wearing a Flash shirt, a small smile appearing on the kid's face when he realized. "Okay now, time for photos and to fuck with Bruce come on."

The kid laughed boisterously for the first time in the month since he arrived at the Wayne manor, and the noise made happiness bubble in Richard's heart, maybe having a little brother wouldn't be too bad after all. Something which was made much clearer by the sheer expression of horror on Bruce's face at seeing the kids in the living room ready for the photographer, both wearing other League member's merch.

Yeah, he could get used to it.

Izuku was woken up from his nap by an explosion, and the only thing going through his head as his chair flew backward was how he wasn’t paid enough to deal with any of this shit. He wasn't paid at all actually, which meant he had zero fucks to give especially at eight thirty fucking am.

He noticed the other who had filed into the classroom while he was asleep looking at him and Bakugo with horror on their faces. The blue-haired boy from the entrance exam was sputtering and moving his arms in place as if unsure of how to react, and the nice girl he saved looked frozen in place at the door. Bakugo was snarling, more furious than Izuku had ever seen him which was saying something. 

As things stood, he just gave Bakugo an unimpressed look as the blonde Pomeranian stood on top of him. "Do you really want to do that this early Bakugo, seriously?"

”The fuck did you say to me?! What are you fucking doing here Deku huh! Who let a Quirkless idiot like you inside, did you sneak in while the real students opened the gate you pathetic asshole?!” Bakugo, if possible, was getting louder with each new sentence, and his explosive hand grew closer to Izuku's face. Just the simple idea of being in high school again and also having to deal with Bakugo Katsuki was enough for Izuku to deserve a cup of death coffee, in his opinion.

Now Izuku usually wouldn't engage with the angry pomeranian, it was a waste of time and energy he did not have, but he could see Eraser at the door on his yellow sleeping sack and it was a golden opportunity to for once toy with the poodle wannabe without too many consequences. (Especially when every witness would be able to attest to Bakugo starting it.)

"I said that you are a little bitch Ka-a-chan " He grinned, the name was almost foreign to him after however many years it had been since he used it, and the effect was instant. Three different things happened the second after Izuku spoke.

First, Bakugo exploded, both hands lighting aflamed as they sparked, second Eraser jumped out of his sleeping bag, still going ignored by the rest of the class who were all focused on Bakugo and Izuku. 

Third, Bakugo's hand smoked as his explosions were turned off, and he was swiftly wrapped in Eraser's capture weapon, cursing like a madman (yapping like a chihuahua) as he was dragged back, away from his "victim". Izuku immediately put his legs under himself and boosted himself out of the floor, flashing Bakugo a shit-eating grin as he did so. Bakugo was still cursing, trying to get to Izuku despite the tape.

"Bakugo!" Eraser's scream shut him up only for a second before his attention was swapped from Izuku to the teacher, and so did the rest of the classes. "Principal's office now, you are expelled." 

A pin drop could have been heard in the second it took Bakugo to react, and Izuku used it to dust himself off before going back to his seat. It only lasted a second though before Bakugo scowled at Eraser and oh, Izuku wished he had popcorn, he should have definitely brought popcorn. 

"HUH?! And just who do you think you are you dam homeless extra! You can't fucking expel me!" Bakugo looked like he wanted to activate his quirk and blow Eraser's head off, but the man was still looking at him head-on. The capture weapon's grip on Bakugo tightened. 

"I am your homeroom teacher Aizawa Shouta, and you will find Bakugo Katsuki that I can do as I please, now go before I have to drag you out." 

Apparently, Bakugo couldn't understand a direct order (Or how to read the room really) because the pomeranian decided to open his mouth once again and oh forget just popcorn, Izuku wanted candy too, and a Soda this was a proper show. Maybe he should have charged the other students to come inside the classroom to witness the quality entertainment (Although by their horrified faces he doubted they found Bakugo's attituted towards Eraser as hilarious as he did). 

"If you are gonna expel someone it should be HIM! That goddam quirkless, useless Deku tricked someone or some shit cause there's no way quirkless trash like him could actually get into this fuking class, he will never amount to anything let alone be a fucking hero."

"Izuku Midoriya had the highest score ever registered in UA history and it's the first student ever to come first in both the written and practical exam, now leave Bakugo before I make you." He tightened his grip on the capture weapon one final time, using Bakugo's stupor silence to add one final nail to the coffin. "Or are you implying that this school would allow a cheater in? The only person Im seeing right now who shouldn't be here is you." 

And with that Bakugo was dragged out of the classroom. Izuku decided to make good use of Eraser's absence as he placed his desk upright once more and promptly fell back asleep.