A Lost Creation

Fear and Hatred

**CW: BLOOD, VIOLENCE**

When you wake up, you find yourself still blinded by the bag over your head, your hands cuffed behind you also, but you're sitting on something firm this time, on a wooden chair you guess.
You immediately cry out for Uncle Giran, without thinking too much about it. He had been there when you'd been taken and made to go to sleep, so he should be here, too, in your logic.
You can hear faint voices, so you know you're definitely not alone, but you hadn't quite decided on whether that was a good or bad thing yet. You were scared enough as it was, you didn't want to over-consider who you were sharing a space with.
At least you couldn't hear the men that hurt you.

"Ah, you're awake." An older voice observes, removing the bag from your head in one swift motion.

You startle as you're thrown into the light of the room again, your eyes squinting before the world unblurs, revealing a well lit room with windows that went from the ceiling to the floor.
It appeared to be just you, Giran and a couple of older men that you didn't recognise in the room. The one that had revealed the room to you was a thin man in a suit, balding with a large nose that seemed unnaturally long.
Not the usual kind of man you feared, but the way he was looking at you told you that you probably should anyway. The other was what you thought was a man with long, long black hair, long enough to hide the majority of his face, which scared you more than being able to see what he looked like underneath it all.

Uncle Giran was slumped forward, asleep or...

"Giran!" You call out, wiggling despite knowing you won't be able to get free anyway.

Flashbacks reel through your mind to when Dabi had been kicked in the head and you had thought he was dead. You keep trying to tell yourself it was the same thing, the men had made you go to sleep, the pain from the headache from the impact of a stranger's fist still noticeable even in your panic.
But the panic becomes harder to control when you see the blood by Girans feet, your heart beginning to race and nervous bile threatening to travel upwards from your stomach.
You struggle harder despite the older man laying a hand atop your head, his weight firm enough to stop you from being able to move too much.

"Giran." You choke.

"He lost a little blood, but he'll be alright." The ugly, balding man informs you. "He'll wake up... eventually."

You glare at the man, willing your quirk to jump into effect and make them all sick like it had back at the bar when the heroes had hurt Dabi, but no matter how much energy you tried to pour into making your quirk work, it didn't happen.
The man makes a noise of amusement.

"The quirk nullifiers were a good idea, Skeptic. She's trying so hard."

The dark haired man pauses his typing for a second to grunt an acknowledgement.

"Don't worry, little girl. We'll make sure you're taken back to your family once we narrow down the League of Villains and manage to lure them here." The suited man promises, sounding oddly certain about it.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Let me go!" You huff with exertion as you try breaking out of the cuffs.

"Stop that or you'll hurt your little wrists." Your captor snaps.

"Fuck off!" You growl in response, repeating the words you had heard your mom use time and time again with her boyfriends.

Dabi wouldn't like you saying that, but he wasn't here right now.

The balding man looks a little taken aback for a second before shaking it off and walking away from you, leaving you struggling in the chair.
He begins talking in a low voice to the man focused on all the computer screens again, who you could assume was named Skeptic. You couldn't hear what they were saying clearly enough, and you didn't want to look over at Giran because the sight of the blood was threatening to make you sick.
So you mull over the suited man's words. When the League of Villains arrived, you'd be able to go back to Dabi and the others. You had no idea who or what that was, but the fact it had the word 'villain' in it made you nervous.