Controlee

62. Two Best Friends Walk Into a Bar, Ouch

Rule 84: If you're going to let loose, make sure you've got a damn good reason.

The villains were shit-talking society again and Bakugou was actually getting used to it. That was probably a bad thing. He was willing to admit they made some decent points: some heroes didn't deserve to be heroes (Icy-Hot's bastard father— for instance). Bakugou wasn't all that much for non-violence either, normally, but he didn't see how their violent means were going to get the ends they wanted.

They were fucking idiots. Destroying society wasn't going to fix heroics. Heroics wasn't even broken, it was just too open to weak idiots who didn't deserve the title. Murdering All Might wasn't going to make it all better.

Thankfully, a distraction came so Bakugou didn't have to listen to any more of their bullshit. There were pros and cons to what that distraction was though. The pros involved Robin being back down here and so much safer for it. The cons involved her being back down here, roughed up worse than before.

Was it earlier today he saw her? Yesterday? He didn't know. It didn't look like there was any more blood on her than there'd been before, but there were fresh bruises instead. Around her neck, on her bare arms— she'd been training late when the attack started so she was still in her PE uniform with its short sleeves. The ones on her neck were just like the ones he'd left on her when that control villain made him attack her. She was limping too.

Bakugou growled, throwing himself forwards but the damn chains held him back. Stupid restraints. If he could just use his quirk, these villains would be toast already, but they were too cowardly to face him at full strength. Definitely too cowardly to face Robin at full strength.

Her injuries weren't even the worst thing about seeing her. No. Before, when she came, she'd looked so scared. When that bastard got too close to her, she'd flinched, tried to pull away, or just shook in his hold. Now, she looked blank. Her eyes were hollow.

She sat on the chair next to him without a word and stared at the floor. "Robin?" She didn't so much as blink.

"That's not her name, you know," Firefuck said, smirk twisting and pulling at the fucking staples holding his patchwork quilt face together. That bastard hurt her, and there he was, lazing against the bar, looking all smug.

Bakugou was going to tear that fucker's throat out with his teeth.

"Robin?"

Psycho-Chick giggled, the sound grating on Bakugou's ears. "I think you broke her."

"At least now when Crusty's Sensei wants her, she'll be compliant."

"He might not be happy with how much you hurt her though," the Two-Faced Creeper warned and Bakugou prepared himself for the completely contradictory comment that would follow. He called the guy Two-Faced Creeper for a reason. "Bossman will love it. Nice work, Dabi." And there it was.

"But she doesn't even look scared anymore," Psycho-Chick whined, moving closer with that blade she never let stray far from her fingers.

Bakugou growled, at how close she was getting to Robin, but Psycho-Chick only patted his head in response. What use was he? He couldn't do anything to keep the creeps away from Robin and he couldn't think of a plan to get them out of here.

It was a subtle thing. When Robin sat down, she'd brought her hands together, wrapping one hand over the other and setting them in her lap, back straight but head down. Bakugou could see the bones and muscles in her hands shift under her skin almost constantly, it was weird. But then, as Psycho-Chick got closer to her, her hands stilled in their tiny movements. 

It was almost a relief, the way she tensed. It meant she was nervous, which meant she wasn't as hollow as he'd thought. Maybe she was only faking this so Firefuck wouldn't take her away again. Maybe she was fine, just acting this way to stay safe, biding her time like he was.