A/N: I belatedly realized that I posted this to AO3 but not here.

This will be updated irregularly until Defeat is completed.

Tags/Warnings (copy/pasted from AO3 b/c I'm lazy today): Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Blood and Violence, Dadzawa - An Aizawa Shota Zine, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Adopts Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Adopts Midoriya Izuku, Violence, Foster Care, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Protective Shinsou Hitoshi, Shinsou Hitoshi Needs a Hug, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Protective Midoriya Izuku, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Foster Kid Shinsou Hitoshi, Foster Kid Midoriya Izuku

A bottle smashed against the wall where Izuku's head was mere moments before. Shards grazed his forehead and stuck in his hair but he knew better than to react. Beside him his foster brother cringed, metal muzzle digging into his flesh hard enough to draw blood. It's what caused the violent outburst from the adult to begin with. Izuku had been trying to remove the contraption from Hitoshi's face.

Bracing as best he could while leaning against his crutch, Izuku still yelped and fell against the wall when the large man struck his face. A kick to the stomach had him doubling over as his meager dinner of bread and water was ejected onto the carpet. The man recoiled with a snarl of disgust.

"Clean all of this up, boy. No dinner for a week. If I catch you trying to remove that freak's muzzle again I'll do worse. You're starting to not be worth the government check." The man shook his head and walked away. Izuku fought tears as he heard a muttered, "Quirkless, useless bastard."

As soon as the bedroom door slammed shut the greenette scrambled to reach Hitoshi. With shaking hands it took several attempts to undo the buckle keeping the torture device in place. Purple eyes blinked away moisture as it was removed. Izuku was tempted to throw it against the wall but resisted, slipping it into his pocket instead.

The other boy stood on trembling legs, using the wall for leverage. Once he was stable he bent down to help Izuku up, offering his crutch back. They stood silently staring at each other for several moments before Hitoshi moved towards the kitchen.

First he grabbed a ratty backpack that Izuku wore to school. Food went in, followed by several bottles of water. He then quietly opened the utensils drawer and added a few knives to the pack.

At the same time, Izuku limped his way over to a liquor cabinet. Opening one of the doors as quietly as possible, he stretched up on tip-toes to snag a jar of cash from the top shelf. It was their foster parents' beer and poker fund, cashed from the checks that should have gone to caring for their foster kids.

Neither of them had personal possessions so once their tasks were completed they unlocked the back door and slipped into the night. They set a fast pace that Izuku struggled with, only having one leg, but he refused to complain as they put as much distance between that house and themselves as possible. Once their absence was discovered the man would probably hunt them down, fearing they'd go to the police.

The two ten year old boys hadn't thought that far ahead however. Their goal was to escape the abuse even if it meant going homeless. After being placed with such unfit guardians they didn't hold much faith in the system that forced them there.

They eventually found themselves in a run down area of town. It was late enough that few people were out and about. The ones they encountered ignored them, even with their bruised and bloodstained features.

When they became too tired to continue they ducked into an alleyway and huddled together for warmth. Neither owned jackets, just threadbare long sleeved shirts. They were supposed to hide the bruises - at least the ones not on their faces. The thin fabric did nothing against the cold.

Izuku didn't sleep, too on edge to let down his guard. Hitoshi managed to doze but it wasn't restful. As the sky turned pink with dawn they tried to clean each other up as much as possible. The indigo haired boy had to delicately pick glass shards out of Izuku's forehead before he could wipe away the blood with a sleeve.

Once that was accomplished they stood on stiff legs to continue their trek. Ideally they were looking for an abandoned building to squat in. There were plenty to choose from but after some investigating most were occupied or showed signs of use. They wouldn't risk running into criminals or villains.

They kept their heads down as much as possible to avoid any day time good samaritans or hero patrols. Though, eventually Hitoshi ran into a store to buy them coats. Izuku loitered nervously outside with his gaze glued to the ground. A couple people tried talking to him but when he pretended to not hear them they left in a huff.

When Hitoshi emerged Izuku almost cried in relief. They paused to don the new clothing before his brother urged them into a brisk walk down a side street. It was a blessing to have padding where the crutch pressed into his under arm. The skin was sore and painful from friction.

For some reason the other boy seemed upset but the hurried pace took all of Izuku's concentration. After a while they resumed their shelter hunting. It took most of the day but they eventually found a boarded up house at the edge of an industrial district. A few boards on the backdoor were loose enough for the two malnourished kids to squeeze through.

The dust and cobwebs seemed undisturbed and there was no sign of habitation aside from mice and rats. It was dark and gloomy but during the day enough light filtered around the boards to let them see where they were going. After a thorough check they slumped to the floor to rest and eat. Once done eating they curled up together in a corner to finally sleep, feeling more secure with walls between them and trouble.

When they woke up it was still light out but the sun had sunk low enough to bathe the interior of the house in darkness. Hitoshi climbed to his feet but halted Izuku with a gentle hand to the shoulder before he could follow.

Voice raspy from disuse, his brother reassured him. "Get some rest. There was a convenience store a few minutes down the road. I'm going to pick some stuff up for us."

The greenette wanted to protest but bit his lip. His leg and arm were exhausted. He would only slow his brother down. Voice equally hoarse, Izuku reached up to squeeze his hand. "Please come back."

"I'll only be a little bit."

With that he was gone. Izuku curled up into a miserable ball of anxiety while he waited. Being alone in the dark terrified him, but the thought of Hitoshi getting caught frightened him more.

000

Shota Aizawa was not happy. The twenty-five year old hero would have liked nothing more than to be in bed surrounded by his cats. But no. On his one day off, at seven in the morning his peaceful loafing was disrupted by a phone call.

The police had a case for him that couldn't wait until a reasonable hour during his normal patrol days. Despite his third cup of coffee he still felt irritated enough to level a glare at the detective sitting across from him. The man had the nerve to be apologetic.

"Eraserhead, I'm sorry for calling you unexpectedly. But I have a case that I think you are best suited for." He grabbed a tablet from the desk and offered it to the hero.

"Three months ago a series of thefts were reported in shops around Musutafu's lower east side. It was initially being handled by the local precinct but…" Tsukauchi gestured for him to look.

The tablet showed a report detailing the case. Twelve shops in total were hit and each witness had the same thing to say. Near dawn or after dusk the cashiers said someone approached them at the shop register. They recalled responding to an inquiry before they claimed to not remember what happened until several minutes later. They couldn't give details about the person, just that their voice sounded young.

"One of the local officers reported a similar incident while on night patrol. They stopped to talk to someone before their memories of the event were erased. The perpetrators are smart. They avoided looking at surveillance cameras, but a parking lot camera near one of the stores caught some details."

The detective took the tablet back to bring up a video. It was poor quality black and white and had only a narrow view of the sidewalk. After a few seconds two figures walked by. Both wore dark hooded jackets and it was difficult to tell their height because of the angle, but one of them walked with a crutch.

"You want me to track them because I can counter their quirks." Shota repressed a sigh.

The other man nodded in agreement. "It seems that anyone who gets close to them has their memories wiped. I know it's small compared to your other cases, but we could really use your help."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Shota gave in. "I'll go out tonight. But if I catch them I want time and a half on top of my commission."

Tsukauchi agreed easily enough. While it wasn't normal practice for underground heros, the Erasure Hero had a good track record with the department. It helped that the detective liked him. Determined to go home and sleep as long as possible, Shota stood and exited the office. He suspected it would be a long night.

Patrolling the indicated area at night yielded nothing more than a drug deal and breaking up an assault. Before handing the criminals over to the local police he'd questioned them about the thieves but none said anything. Shota suspected that even if they had encountered the two they wouldn't remember.

Near dawn he found himself sitting on top of a building taking a break. As he sipped a juice pouch he observed the nearly empty street below. Some people were out and about heading to work but no one matched the description. Primarily he was looking for the suspect on the crutch. It was distinctive enough to be useful.

Eventually he stood, intending to head back towards the shopping district, when movement in an alley caught his attention. Crouching down he watched intently as someone in a black hoodie glanced around furtively before emerging into the sidewalk. They were dragging what looked like a mattress.

Interest piqued, Shota shadowed them from the rooftops. Compared to the mattress they were small, possibly a teenager. They struggled with its bulk but managed to drag it for a mile to a boarded up house. The dark hero heard a loud curse as the kid seemed to realize his error. He'd have to pry away the barriers to get the bed inside.

The figure disappeared through a gap in the fence enclosing the backyard before returning a moment later holding a crutch. They looked around before wedging one end of the crutch under the boards and pressing down on it to pop them off. They then handed the crutch to someone inside before wrestling the mattress through. Shota was mildly impressed by their tenacity.

A few minutes later the kid returned to carefully hammer the boards back in place with a rock. They seemed jumpy and on edge at the noise. Once done they immediately scurried around back and disappeared.

Shota waited for an hour and when nothing else stirred around the house he jumped off the roof to investigate. The suspicion was forming that he was dealing with runaways rather than hardened criminals. Caution still drove him as he crept around the perimeter looking for clues.

The only obvious way inside was a broken board on the back door. The space it created was tiny and there was no way anyone but a child could squeeze through. Standing out of sight to the side of the opening, he listened intently. Deep inside the building he could hear a quiet conversation.

"-most out of food. Let me go out next, you're exhausted."

"It's dangerous, we're not risking it."

"But some people gave me money the other day at the park. If I beg we can get enough to last the week."

The two voices were shockingly young and confirmed Shota's suspicion. They were children, young teens at the most. If they really were his suspects they were probably performing the thefts to survive.

"... Fine, but take this. Use it if you're in danger. Don't go too far, just the convenience store. Be back by noon."

The 'this' was probably a weapon of some sort. Creeping away, Shota resigned himself to a sleepless day. There was only one convenience store nearby so he stationed himself on a roof across the street to observe. After the sun rose above the horizon and more people trickled out and about the hero spied a tiny figure in the crowd.

They wore a dark green, filthy, hoodie and used a crutch to move. Their equally dirty jeans had one leg pinned up at the knee, explaining the aid. They kept their hood up even when they leaned against the wall of the store and slid down to sit. An empty soup can was fished out of a pocket and placed on the ground in front of them.

Several people stopped to put change in the can. A couple pedestrians tried to talk to the kid but the street rat shrank away and didn't seem to respond. While he watched and waited Shota texted Tsukauchi.

'Look into missing children, 9-15 missing left leg.'

An hour later his phone vibrated with a response. 'No missing filed. News report last autumn for Izuku Midoriya, now 10. Lost leg in villain attack and mother killed. Getting auth for child services records.'

When Shota glanced back up the kid was struggling to stand. They collected the tin of money and entered the store. A few minutes later they exited with two bags of groceries. Half way back to the abandoned house the kid took a shortcut through an alley but didn't come out.

More than a little concerned, Shota hopped to street level and ran towards the opening. A pained cry echoed between the buildings and the dark hero rounded the corner to see three adults surrounding the downed child. Two were kicking him viciously while the third tried to pull a kitchen knife out of his foot.

Shota's vision flashed in rage and he was acting without conscious thought. The injured man went down with a blow to the back of the head. Before the other two could react they were wrapped tightly in Shota's specialized capture scarf. He slapped quirk suppressing cuffs on the unconscious one before bringing out this phone to report the incident.

The kid cowered against a trash bag and the hero saw him glancing at his crutch across the alleyway. He looked too beat up to make a move for it but Shota kept an eye on him. The hood had slipped down during the attack, allowing his features to be observed.

A tangled green mop of hair fell just below his ears. Wide eyes showed off equally green irises. Freckles dotted pale cheeks still full from baby fat. A few thin scars dotted his forehead. From his small size Shota would never have guessed he was ten years old.

When approaching sirens reached their ears the boy seemed to panic. Scrambling across the filthy asphalt he grabbed the crutch and tried hefting himself up but his arm seemed injured. When Shota moved forward to try calming him down he flinched violently enough to fall back against the wall.

"Calm down, kid. It's ok, I'm only trying to help." He tried to keep his voice low and soft, like when trying to sooth a frightened cat.

A hiccup left the child and he shook his head frantically as tears fell. "N-no! We won't go back!"

"Won't go back where? If someone hurt you, I can help make sure it never happens again. You'll be safe."

When a police car came into view the boy clammed up and curled into himself. Soft crying reached Shota's ears and further attempts to communicate were ignored. Feeling a little bad about it, the hero snagged the crutch so the kid couldn't escape while he was distracted with the officers and criminals.

After giving his statement and helping to corral the men into the back of the car, Shota texted Tsukauchi. 'Found one. Traumatized, won't come with me. Get here.' He included a location tag. Only a second later the detective sent confirmation.

The police officers glanced at the boy with concern but Shota waved them away. "Detective Tsukauchi with the main office is on his way. You can take those three in."

Once the car pulled away he lowered himself to sit a few feet away from the kid to wait. After a few minutes the crying tapered off and watery green eyes peered at him. Trying not to wince at the snot smearing the kid's lower face, Shota tried again. "Are you hurt?"

A firm head shake was the only answer. "Will you tell me your name?" A deep frown accompanied the anticipated negative gesture. Shota counted it as a win. Getting the child annoyed with him was better than him being terrified.

"Do you like cats?" That got him a confused head tilt. Fishing out his phone, he brought up a picture of his two cats lounging in a window. When he showed the boy he thought he saw his lips curl up slightly.

"That's Mami and Chibi. They like chicken and trying to smother me in my sleep." The kid's lips inched up more before he hid his face against his knee.

Feeling more confident at the reaction - dealing with children was not his forte - he hazarded another question. "Do you have any pets?" He was surprised when the kid glanced up and actually nodded shyly.

"What are they?"

The quietest voice ever whispered out, "Sanzoku-san is my rat. He's with Toshi."

Shota let out a quiet hum. He didn't like rodents but he could pretend to for the kid. "Do you call him that because he steals things?"

Another nod. A few seconds of silence almost made Shota think he was closing off again, but the boy hesitantly uncurled from the defensive pose. Green eyes stared for a moment before the boy fidgeted.

"Sanzoku-san and his family kept stealing food. But a cold night made him sleep next to me. Then he got in a fight with another male and got hurt. I fixed him and he wouldn't leave."

"That was very kind of you. Do you have enough food to feed him?" The boy's expression fell and he looked around. Belatedly Shota remembered he had bags with him. They were further into the alley, contents spilled out and stomped on. The kid looked like he would cry again.

"I'll buy you new food once my friend gets here, I promise. Enough for you, Sanzoku-san, and the other person you mentioned."

The kid settled down again though his expression turned wary. "Y-you promise not t-to send us back?" The stuttering seemed to coincide with his nervousness.

"I promise. And if someone hurt you, I promise they will go to jail."

A car pulled up to the entrance of the alley and Tsukauchi stepped out. The detective surveyed the scene before approaching slowly and taking a seat on the ground next to Eraser. The kid tensed up again but didn't react as extremely as he did to Shota.

"This is the friend I mentioned. Detective Tsukauchi can help get you safe and arrest the people who hurt you. But you have to trust us."

"I-I… I want Hitoshi." The child looked overwhelmed and scared.

The two adults exchanged glances before Tsukauchi smiled at the kid. "It's ok. We'll take you to him if you let us. We just want to make sure you're both safe."

The detective brought out his phone and opened a file, tilting it so Shota could see. A picture of a healthier looking greenette who smiled brightly at the camera took up most of the screen. Under it was detailed information on him. A child services stamp marked the top corner of the scanned file.

"Is your name Izuku Midoriya? And your brother is Hitoshi Shinsou? I can tell you that your foster parents will be arrested if they've done something to you."

The boy - Izuku gave a hesitant nod and adjusted uncomfortably. "T-they hit us and yelled when we ate their food."

"I believe you. You see, my quirk is called Lie Detector. I know that you're telling the truth. What you just said is more than enough for us to detain them. We just need you and your brother to cooperate so we can put them away for a long time."

The green gaze was intense and painfully hopeful. The kid clearly wanted to trust them, but had been betrayed by other adults too much. Shota couldn't help the frown that crept onto his face, but kept his attention away from Izuku so the kid wouldn't think it was at him.

"We can go get Hitoshi for you, then we can talk more together." The detective coaxed.

"A-and Sanzoku-san?"

The other man slanted a confused glance at Shota but agreed. "And Sanzoku-san."

The two men stood slowly, Tsukauchi retreating to his car while Shota fetched the crutch and offered it to Izuku. It took a long moment but the child hesitantly took it and climbed to his feet. He followed slowly when Shota led the way and opened the back door for him.

The drive to the abandoned house only took five minutes. When they stopped Izuku immediately struggled to get out. Shota motioned for Tsukauchi to stay with the car before following the child to the back of the house.

"I'll stay here. Promise to not run away?" The greenette gave an uncertain nod before crawling through the hole in the door. Shota leaned against the wall by the door, straining to hear anything. If they were talking it was quieter than the previous time.

Enough time passed that he was starting to worry. Before he could get truly alarmed a worn and threadbare backpack was shoved through the hole, followed by a crutch, and a green head of hair. A moment later a new looking pack followed. Finally, a wild tangle of indigo colored hair appeared.

Hitoshi was taller than Izuku and lanky. His violet colored eyes regarded Shota with intent distrust. Dark bags shadowed under his eyes, contrasting with pale skin. Fresh looking scars at the corners of his mouth made his frown more severe.

Izuku cuddled up to the other boy's side, looking almost protective despite his diminutive stature and timid attitude. "Toshi, this is one of them… He saved me from bad guys."

Shota nodded, "My name is Eraserhead. I'm a pro hero. My friend, Detective Tsukauchi, is waiting in the car."

The boy gave a guarded nod. He didn't say anything but turned to head around to the front of the house. He carried both backpacks so Izuku could walk easier. Picking up on his brother's mood, the greenette looked guilty as he followed. Clearly Hitoshi hadn't taken their presence well.

It was a tense and silent ride to the precinct.