The Emperor's Dragon

Time For Emotional Baggage

Izuku looked up at the ceiling. It wasn't his room. He was lying in a cot in one of the spare rooms at Doctor Garaki's facility. It was warm enough and he was comfortable enough but he felt sick.

The quirk should have healed his dad. It should have regenerated him. It did for him. He'd tested it. Tomura had tested it, and the Doctor had tested it. What had gone wrong?

Izuku screwed his eyes shut and shook his head savagely. Despite the motion he could still see the bulbous mass of flesh that was his dad's head. It wasn't normal. It wasn't right. He swallowed hard and then forced himself to take a deep breath.

What had gone wrong? Why hadn't it worked?

The quirk had spread over Dad as it had for him. His quirks hadn't reacted badly to it. He'd seen that but...

"Shit!" Izuku swore. He knew he shouldn't use a bad word but he couldn't help it. His eyes widened and he felt sick again.

He heard his Dad's voice in his mind. 'Your quirk is different from mine. If you keep a quirk long enough, my Little Dragon, you can't give it away.'

"No," Izuku whispered, bolting upright. He threw the blankets away and staggered to the door. There was a small bathroom attached to the room he was in. It was a closet really, containing a toilet and a small hand washing sink. Izuku made it to the toilet before he threw up.

"No," he said, struggling to breathe through the snot that was running down the back of his throat. Tears streamed down his face. He shook his head before he retched again.

Could it be his fault?

No, he didn't absorb quirks that quickly. Doctor Garaki had checked that for him. His dad had confirmed it. And the regeneration quirk worked on his dad.

Except...

Izuku shook his head again and spat into the toilet before he flushed it. He felt terrible. Except he didn't really know how long it took him to begin absorbing a quirk. What if he'd kept part of the quirk? Not enough so that he couldn't give it away, but just enough that...

Izuku retched again. He choked and gasped and his spit was slick with snot.

He forced himself to sit back, ignoring the cold floor as he leaned against the wall under the hand basin. No, he couldn't have kept part of the quirk, because he couldn't split quirks into pieces.

The thought was logical.

It didn't bring him comfort.

"I can't have kept it," Izuku whispered to himself but he wasn't convinced. He knew it by the sick feeling pooled in his stomach. He knew it by the way his throat was tight.

He just knew it.

Izuku heaved a deep breath and then pushed himself upwards. He grabbed the hand towel and wiped his face.

He had to know. He had to test it. He couldn't have kept part of the quirk but he had to find out. He went to the door of the room and slowly slid it open. He needed a knife.

While the Doctor had moved with them to Niigata and Saitama Prefectures, Izuku had been to this facility often enough that he knew where there was a small kitchenette. He could get one of the Doctor's scalpels but while the Doctor appeared absent minded at times, his equipment was kept clean and ordered. He'd notice that. A kitchen knife would do the job just as well. He only needed to make a little cut.

He got to the kitchenette without the others hearing him. Izuku could hear them talking but he didn't need them to interrupt this. He had to know. Once in the kitchenette, he opened the draws quietly. It took a few tries to find a suitable blade. Izuku pulled out the knife, and then retreated back to the small room he'd been given to sleep in.