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Touya knew what being trapped meant when he was four and his father pulled him by his red hair. Touya misbehaved once too much, pushed it a little too far.
He spent an hour in the dojo‘s closet that evening. He wasn‘t sure if his siblings and mother heard his screaming and wailing at the dinner table.
They did. And by the time his father opened the door again his throat was raw.
It became more frequent in middle school after his mother left. Touya had breakdowns during his training and Enji would grab at his white roots as he shoved him in the closet.
His pleadings were never acknowledged.
When Touya set Sekoto Peak ablaze his dry white hair caught fire quickly. His own demise welcomed him as the world around him finally burned for him and he could watch from the center of the flames at last. It was over.
Until it wasn‘t.
Touya Todoroki was pronounced dead before his ashes went cold.
Dabi rose from his ashes when they were far beyond cold.
Touya really learned what being trapped meant when Dabi borrowed his corpse. When his last sliver of hatred wouldn‘t stop burning for his father.
Touya was sure he escaped his prison as he set himself on fire as his quirk malfunctioned. But as soon as Dabi opened his eyes he was just trapped in a new prison. Not quiet dead but too far from being alive already.
————
Dabi was hostile, anger.
Touya was sadness, bitter.
Dabi was hatred, fire.
Touya was agony, freezing.
Dabi was violent, destruction.
Touya was fragile, cracking.
And in a way, Dabi was still Touya. But only at night. Only when the weeping was just a buzz in the background as Dabi laid on a cold floor with whatever poison in his system.
Sometimes it feels like Touya tried to dig his hands free, claw his way out of Dabi‘s stomach but he wouldn‘t let him.
So he laid with him. Dabi was unable to let him die. He tried.
In another life Dabi would‘ve cried. He would weep and weep with Touya.
But Dabi didn‘t weep.
They always ended up falling asleep like this instead.
————
The first thing Dabi picked up was screaming, muffled and detached. Maybe because it wasn’t there. The scream was unintelligible and bled into sobs and weeping. It was despairingly familiar. Dabi never liked familiar. Ever since he died that dreadful crying wouldn‘t leave his side. It followed him like a ghost of his past life.
The second thing Dabi picked up was pain. Something he handled way better. The dull ache right behind his eyes, the sharp sting in his chest and lungs, the heavy weight on his limbs. His hand twitched against the fabric beneath him.
When did he move?
“He‘s actually alive.“
Rough and raspy. Dabi knew that voice. It was familiar in a sweet way but sour in its aftertaste. Dabi hated sour. It hurt around the burns on his mouth.
Touya didn’t know that voice. It left him shivering.
Dabi‘s head lulled to the side as he pried his eyes open. His vision swam but the hideout was as dark and grimy as he remembered so no bright light hurt his too dry eyes. The only lightsource were the dim spotlights above the bar. They illuminated his boss’ hair to a bright white.
Touya stopped weeping.
Shigaraki loomed over the bar counter as he stared Dabi down. “What?“ Dabi didn‘t recognize his voice. It came out slurred and still drunk on sleep and booze. He still tasted it in the back of his throat.
“You came back high off your ass at 3 am and almost busted your head open on the bar stool.“ Shigaraki’s voice dripped in venom but Dabi was used to his boss throwing tantrums. Dabi just hummed, feeling a disgusting tingle in his chest.
“Stop fucking showing up high.“ The room was so quiet Dabi could hear Shigaraki’s nails digging into his own neck, scratching and pulling at the dry skin.
Dabi couldn‘t tell how much time went by between blinking and breathing. But the next time opened his eyes he saw Shigaraki towering over him, strands of hair hanging in his face as he looked down on Dabi’s drugged out expression.
“If you‘re gonna overdose, go somewhere else.“ His expression was nothing but annoyed, his brows furrowed in anger. There was a voice in the back of Dabi’s head. He still came to check on him.
He didn‘t notice when Shigaraki left but when his head leaned back and lulled from side to side he couldn‘t find the soothing white strands of hair.
He slipped in and out of being aware of some of his surroundings and being stuck in a scorching heat with nothing surrounding him.
Sometimes he saw soothing white or heard muffled voices, white silhouettes danced in front of him.
Sometimes he was burning with a child in front of him.
————
“-abi? Dabi!“ A hand touched his shoulder. Dabi tried to jerk away but only ground his back against the couch cushions before the hand retrieved by itself. He pulled the staples bloody that were barely holding his misery of a body together - his corpse.
“Shigaraki?“ He almost couldn‘t hear himself. But he knew he actually said it out loud when the man scoffed at him.
He could see Shigaraki‘s lips move but it was hard to understand anything. Dabi rubbed his eye with the balls of his hand as his ears slowly picked up Shigaraki‘s strained voice.
“You have a fucking death wish or something?“
Dabi grinned lazily. He was already dead.
Touya sat in his flames, silent at last.
————
Dabi stumbled through the door of the hideout. He had a dazed grin on his face as he swayed towards the bar. Twice greeted him, Toga squealed something in her annoyingly high pitched tone.
Shigaraki wasn’t there to snarl at him to fuck off and sober up somewhere else.
Dabi‘s grin fell a little as Touya sniffled again.
————
Dabi laid on a mattress in the hideout. Nights like these were the worst. The pills ran out, the coke bag already empty, nothing left in the dirty tinfoil. There was nothing to stuff his head full of cotton as Touya’s wailing started again. Nothing to muffle the sounds that shouldn’t be there.
He turned towards the wall and his eyelids finally fell shut. His mind gravitated towards familiar white hair. Smooth, silky. Cold hands soothing his aches, soft fingertips grazing his healed burns. Even softer lips pressing against his chin, his cheek, his temple. There was no more fire, no more weeping, no more aching staples pulling at his angry skin.
And as he looked up he saw a pair of adoring grey eyes before his mother‘s face fell apart, leaving a gaping hole where her features should be. In the hole that ripped through her head was fire. It was too hot.
Dabi realized that he forgot what his mother‘s face looked like.
And at some point the grey eyes were replaced with a violent red.
————
Dabi dragged his feet behind him as he pushed towards the door.
“Sober for once, huh?“ It wasn‘t really a question but Dabi still turned around.
“Course I am, boss.“ His speech was still slurred from the cheap booze. Shigaraki didn’t say anything about it.
Jagged nails tapped the wooden table and his other hand held a gaming console. “Well don‘t fucking get high. I prefer you with your head on straight in battle.“ His tone was harsh but it still made Dabi tingle under his ribcage again.
He wanted to dig his fingers in his chest and rip his skin apart.
————
Dabi‘s head was fuzzy when his hand crept over the mattress. He didn‘t remember laying in anyone’s bed.
Dread sunk in his stomach when his fingertips bumped into soft skin. Not soft enough.
The mattress shifted besides him and soft hair tickled the skin on his bare chest that still felt something.
His eyes fluttered open. White. White on the pillow, white against his chest, white on the mattress. His fingers ran through the strands of white. Soft.
And suddenly Dabi knew where he was.
The syringe laid weakly in his hand as Shigaraki yelled at him about something. Probably getting high while his boss tried to talk to him about an important job.
Dabi closed his eyes for a moment before looking down at the warmth against his chest.
Dabi‘s hand tangled in white strands of hair as he pressed the head further into the pillow, the other grabbing onto the frail looking hip. All he saw was white as his hips moved at a steady pace. He indulged in the silence inside him, indulged in the sounds under him. His hips stuttered as he looked ahead and saw familiar grey eyes. Shame clogged his throat and he didn‘t even notice that he stopped. Not until a resistance pressed against his hand that still gripped into the soft white.
He couldn‘t look away. Dabi shoved the head back into the pillow before picking up his pace.
He never saw Shigaraki asleep before, never vulnerable like this.
“I can‘t remember.“ His voice was nothing but a whisper. “Can’t fucking remember her face.“ His fingers frantically stroked the softness on Shigaraki’s head.
The man started to stir but Dabi barely noticed as the started at a wall. Or maybe at the boy he swore stood in front of the mattress.
He heard his name. The name of a man who lived on borrowed time. The name his mother would never call him.
Dabi’s eyes flickered down again and his mouth was faster than his head. Dabi couldn’t stop himself from saying it and only realized when it was too late.
“Mom?“
Or maybe it was Touya who said it.