White snow lined the streets and sidewalks, a fresh coat of cold, wonderland hell to walk over as you stuffed both your hands in your, quite frankly, way too thin of a choice for a winter jacket. 

     "I fucking hate snow," You mumbled, having slipped so many times that Dabi's cheeks were starting to hurt just laughing at you. "Are you saying that for real, or just now because you landed on your ass?" 

     "Both!" You loudly exclaim, startling a poor older woman beside you being pushed past in a wheelchair. The girl helping move the woman glared at you, but ignoring that reaction was a lot easier than ignoring the phoenix's ever-growing smirk and raising brow. "Like yeah, I like the aesthetic, and I get real fucking rich because of people buying the sweaters with all the pretty designs and whatever, but holy shit it's annoying to actually interact with. It's—AHH!" You get cut off in the name of karmic irony, your hand an iron grip on Dabi's forearm who let you use him as a way of balance in exchange for laughing at you. Quietly, lest he wanted a boot to his nose.

     "Not a word."

     "I'm not saying anything." 

     Upon heaving yourself up and making sure he kept that mouth of his shut tighter than a secured top-secret Russian vault, you looked around in awe upon taking. . . an entirely different turn in a crossing and arriving at an entirely different area. "Where are we going?" 

     "My apartment." You raised a brow, making an effort to move the beanie on your head out of your eyes, "You have one?" He shrugs, but nods, completely missing your attempts at an insult. "Yeah."

     . . .

     "So you called me, dubbed it an emergency, to go to your apartment?" He shrugs again, pulling you out of the way of a stroller headed towards you in the crowded streets, "Pretty much, yeah." You tried to look at him with any form of a reaction, but none came other than that of disappointment, and seeing as he was probably already aware of that, you decided not to voice it out. So instead you directed your attentions to the buildings, those that seemed to loom over you endlessly each time you lifted up your head. Walking along the sides and paying attention to them you started to notice a shift, one that had it's buildings being made more of the infamous red bricks the farther you went. Passing by the last coffee shop as far as the eye could see, you were now entirely in a street that had nothing but red-bricked buildings. 

     "God, just had to get even colder," Dabi commented after what felt like forever of nothing but silence, taking quiet note of the sun that was halfway down the horizon. With the lack of cancer-giving heat provided by the flaming ball of hate and fire, the cold winds had a lot more to offer as they slapped the both of you unceremoniously. Like a thousand needles of happiness shooting straight into your face. "This doesn't look like the last place," You commented, remembering the story of not so long ago where you were surprised adopted by a taxi driver before having to be saved by a different set of criminals. You remembered the cramped little space, and always wondered after that encounter why they insisted on suffering with that when they were making, no doubt, more than an average person's salary. 

     "We moved. Some meddling bitch saw blood on the leech's—"

     "Toga?"

     "—face and hands and called the cops on us. We managed to push them off for a bit, but by the time they got back Shigaraki had already scouted and got a new place." He sighed, a growing anger on his face, contradicting the smile that he had on, "Sad thing was that they never told me, and I was out when they decided to ship themselves off. Took me two hours to find them, because some fucker thought it'd be funny not to give me the full address." You tried your best at good manners and hold back a laugh, clearing your throat multiple times that made him roll his eyes. "Stop, you can laugh. You sound like you're dying of a cold when you don't." 

     Taking it as an opportunity of consent, you took your chances and started laughing like a maniac in the middle of a busy street. Nobody batted an eye of course—save for some tourists—so you kept going until you were on the brink of a coma from your lack of proper oxygen intake. 

     "Wait wait wait—so you just. . . got home one day and they were all gone?"

     "Yup," He popped his bottom lip, earning yet another loud round of your obnoxious reaction. You could say he didn't really seem to mind, eventually getting dragged along your hellhole as he sneaked in a snicker. "Anyway if you're done laughing at me, we're here."

     You were still slightly bent over, a few giggles managing to escape as you looked to where he gestured. You don't even remember crossing the street, seeing the small hair parlor you were just standing next to moments before on the other side. You looked to your left, beaten-up stairs leading up to an equally beaten-up door. The red paint on it's sides chipped, a rusted metal gate guarding a curtained window to the red door's left. Just a little further, to the right of the stairs once you actually faced it, was a little lowered platform, where a tipped over garbage bin laid in defeat with it's disgusting insides strewn about. You could even see a small window just on your eye level. Perhaps a basement? The apartment was apparently elevated, as proof of the stairs leading up to it, so perhaps it had a basement that was also technically not a basement because it was just by your level?

     You tried to ignore the poor management of garbage, the black gates leading to such a mess creaking with each swing that the wind hit it with. "Shall we?" He chuckles, leading you up as you grimaced a forced smile. You couldn't be too picky, your old apartment was somewhat just as bad, but having lived in literal luxury for the better parts of, give or take, a month, seeing the almost abandoned state of the place made you queasy. 

     Taking a step, your eyes wandered to the little rectangular window just above the black garbage bin. It swayed slightly with the wind, your focus naturally following it before stopping as you made eye contact with someone with a quick snap upwards. Despite the translucent nature of the thing, you could've sworn you saw shaky eyes staring at you, almost in a plead for help, before disappearing just as quickly. "You good?" You turned to Dabi with quick blinks, already on the small platform at the top just before the entrance. "Oh, yeah, sorry," You shook your head and followed after him, deciding that you could maybe check it out later if you asked nicely enough.

     He knocked distinctly on the door—seeing a rusting, metal '4' plastered crudely in the middle—the three small bangs somehow, in a way that only Dabi could successfully accomplish, sounding odd. There was nothing at first, but you heard some grumbling from the inside before having the door creak open with a start. 

     Dressed with a black sweater and a bright red leather coat pulled on top, was the man you recalled the name of Shigaraki. He looked tired, holding the door open with a grimace to the sudden assault of the outside wind and light. "About fucking time," He grumbled, his words almost slurring together as he gripped the door with gloves that were as confusing as a vest. You compared it to a vest because it was unnecessary, never having thought of an occasion where you'd need to wear something that protected your torso but left your arms exposed to the cold. It was the exact same reasoning for his gloves, not entirely fingerless yet not entirely useful either.

     Maybe your confusion also played on the fact that you forgot that he was in possession of a world-destroying power, but no one really cared why you kept staring at his hand.

     "That idiot doesn't know how to stop mumbling." He easily lets you two inside, turning a left as in front of you was a shoe rack. Stacked on top was some beaten up sneakers and a pair of white boots, while below were at least two more pairs of. . . also some boots, but more combat-heavy. Jeez, impossible to guess who owned those. "Had to lock his ass downstairs to get some semblance of peace," he jumps the couch that was pushed up against the wall of the small entrance room, you following and almost bumping into a counter. In front of you was a rack that had a stove, some cabinets on top and a fridge fashioned next to it. 

     You followed it, finding that their kitchen apparently lined the entire wall just leading up to a door at the end of the room, to your right. Interestingly was that there was a visible line on the floor from where the dirty tiles ended and linoleum started, finding it amusing that this didn't stop them from letting the kitchen counters run that far. You looked at the couch, a table in front of it and another a few feet. On top of the second one was a small flat screen TV, a simple glance finding that there was a small hall behind it leading off to the right, making out the faint outline of another door if you tilted your head far enough.

     . . .

     Wait did he say lock someone downstairs?

     You looked to Dabi to ask about it, a horrified look of dawning realization on your face before he easily grins at you lazily, "I'll explain more when you meet him." He starts walking to the end of the cramped place, sending a small nod to Shigaraki as a form greeting, who only grunted in acknowledgement towards you. Seems he was having a fun time—or not, you couldn't tell by his face—watching some boring news that reported on some sort of mugging. 

     He turns to the right, just behind the TV, and, to your delight, you were correct in assuming it was a small hallway. A little emphasis on small as he pushes a door open—yes the one you faintly saw—and hitting on a switch. A bright, eye-piercing type of white flooded the entire bathroom, one you could only get from a cheap light bulb as he opens up a closet directly in front the both of you. It was a little. . . cramped, for more than one person, scrunching your face as you saw what disgusting substance was lurking in the toilet water. "Agreed, your bathroom's a better place to make out." You hit his shoulder, earning a laugh as he gestures to the sizeable trapdoor inside the large cabinet. 

     With a tilt of his head, he somehow thought that offering to let you open it was a good gift, earning a glare and a quick scoff from you. "I'm not touching that."

     "Fair enough." He leans down and easily snaps it open, the cobwebs underneath making you glad you decided to let him do it. "Adventure awaits, my love."

     'A beating awaits your ass if you don't shut up!' Came a muffled voice from outside, no doubt Shigaraki's as the phoenix rolls his eyes, already lowering himself down the narrow stairs, "Walls are thin." You stifled a laugh lest you wanted to be told to shut up as well, following after Dabi as you walked the steps that were so steep you could've sworn they'd be legally considered ladders. "Oh God, why's the entrance to your basement in the bathroom?" Dabi shrugs, easily reaching the bottom while you not-so-gracefully stumbled after him. "Don't know, I didn't really pick this place." Before you could have a follow-up question asking where the rest of his party was and how small their place was for it to house all of them, you looked to see a shaking man pacing the walls of the place, now starting to see what Shigaraki had meant about the mumbling. "So anyway, here's the guy."

     You looked him up and down, the raven-haired man freezing in his spot like you getting caught trying to sneak food from the fridge at unholy hours of the morning, (the look of fear you usually held was less of being caught by Jirou at three am, but more-so that you were eating her food. So fear nonetheless.) dull green eyes darting around to everywhere but you. "Elijah, my girlfriend. Y/N, Elijah." You couldn't even correct him on that as. . . the scientist? Remained silent, nodding shakily as his hand twitched to do something.

     Catching on surprisingly quickly you held out a hand, making the effort to actually walk to somewhere nearer as he swallows a lump, "Hi, nice to meet you. Seeing as nobody's bothering to explain anything here, is there a chance you could tell me why a gentleman such as yourself is stuck in this creep's basement?" He shook your hand firmly, guessing that some professionalism was still due despite the circumstances. "I take it that-that, you're the reason why, I was uhm, taken." He closes his eyes, pursing his lips with a small inhale, "That sounded wrong, by God I'm so sorry."

     . . .

     Gee golly wow someone more awkward than you. You could definitely work with this.

     Laughing softly you retracted your hand, glad that he was at least given something to warm himself up with other than the dirty lab coat he (still?) had on. "It's fine, I get it. Why? What do you mean though?"

     "I was in the laboratory that worked on the drug that. . . that uhh," He looks behind you in some sort of plead for guidance, before realizing that all he'd share a look with was Dabi and looking back at you quickly with sweat dripping from his forehead and neck despite the cold weather, "Affected you, from what I heard. The uhh, pink?" You slowly nodded, urging him to continue, "Y-Yeah. I wasn't one of the assigned members on that particular project, but I have some handlings with it. What with, with uhm, close ties to that particular project. I swear I didn't know what they were doing!" You almost jumped when he grabbed your hands, shaky, teary eyes looking into yours for some sort of semblance of mercy, "Please believe me! If I had known sooner I never would've helped! They-they paid really good and I needed the m—"

     "Woah, woah, okay, slow down," You laughed in. . . amusement, more than anything, that underlying tone of pity no doubt present in your voice as you tried your best to ease his nerves. God, and he's been stuck here alone accompanied by nothing but his thoughts for who knows how long? Poor soul. "I get it, desperate needs for desperate measures and this was a job offer straight from the heavens above. It's not your fault." Before he could start ranting again you cut him off, softly smiling all the time to convince yourself you weren't being a bitch, "Anyway! Thank you, so much, for taking the risk of leaving that place. It was really brave of you, and I'm glad to see that you got out of it safely." He lets you talk, lowering his head—in shame or in embarrassment? Who knows—as his whole body still looked like a leaf threatening to fall in the name of autumn. "But, I am going to need your help. See, I have a friend that might be able to aid me of this drug problem, and possibly get rid of all traces of it inside me. Problem is, we need more information on it."

     You bit your lip, looking back to Dabi for help who, like the outstandingly useless piece of crap that he was in the moment being, only shrugs. He mouths an 'I don't know', sighing as you turned back to. . . Ethan. Evelyn? Elijah! "Another problem is, we don't know where to get said information. All I'm asking for is the whereabouts of the laboratory," He looks up, his tongue poking the insides of his cheeks. Was that a nervous tick? "I can. . . I can help with that. I don't know much of the specifics, but I remember landmarks and the general area."

     You grinned—successfully ignoring the cons of that statement—squeezing his hands in comfort. "Thank you, Elijah, this means a lot to me." Dabi clears his throat from behind, craning your head back as you nod. "Sorry, just a moment." He nods gratefully, almost not wanting to let go of your hold when you did, another panic attack bubbling up in his stomach. Like a shark smelling blood the fear settled once again, swallowing a heavy lump as stumbles away to land on a chair. It creaked from his weight, taking so much deep breaths that he was practically swallowing all what little oxygen the cramped basement offered. This was not a good place to keep a guy with anxiety.

     "Where'd you even find this kid? He's like so young!" He raises a brow, "Yeah babe, you're in your early twenties too."

     "Yeah, I am, but this guy isn't!" You tried to talk in hushed voices, but it didn't really matter because the person you were talking about less than thirty feet away from you was in the middle of a mental breakdown and was no doubt shutting out all the noise. "He looks like a college student! Why is he—oh Goddammit he's fresh out of a semester with good grades in Science and got scouted by whoever this fucko running the whole operation is in promise of good money as long as he kept his mouth shut. Dammit!"

     He stares, impressed. "I think you just gave me a boner."

     "I think you just made me weirded out." Before you could continue on with your banter came a phone call, the device vibrating loudly in your inside coat pocket. You would've placed it in your pant pocket, had it been for the fact that you were a New Yorker that didn't want to get robbed. "Y/N here,"

     "Hey it's Layla." The brunette unenthusiastically greeted, practically hearing the disappointment in her voice through the line. Not at you—at least you hoped, you hadn't even done anything yet—but definitely at something she wasn't at all thrilled to hear, "I'm just gonna get to the point. Taneo's memory has been jogging up a bit and he can remember some directions to the lab. Don't know how accurate they are, but I might as well have thought to tell you. What about on your end? Got anything?" 

     You looked to Dabi (who had a brow raised at your smug look) before your eyes landed on Elijah, rocking back and forth in a chair and mentally taking a note to try and console him. "Yeah, I have one."

note ; HI I'M BACK AHAHAHAHA MY DUMBASS DECIDED TO START WATCHING BROOKLYN99 AS SOON AS THE LAST DAY OF MY 3 DAY VACATION CAME IM A MESS
WELL HOPE Y'ALL DOING WELL LOVELOTS