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A whimper left you as you graced your skin, the touch hurting more than the vodka you used to poorly disinfect your wound. You were no medical professional and a healing quirk would‘ve been amazing to have right now, but neither were you blessed with one, nor did you have any idea how to care for a quirk-caused burn like this. This shit wasn't taught in first-aid classes and now you wished that they did, as horrible and disgusting that wound looked.
You cursed yourself for not having any weapons or first aid kits in your little void. It was mainly used by you for storage and could only be accessed through bags (or other openings usually used for storage). You cursed once more, this time because of the man who was responsible for your situation. If he wouldn't have destroyed everything, you could've tried using a door frame as a portal and left this disaster, but here you were, stuck in this ruined building, left to wait as the only possible exit was blocked off.
Huffing, you reached down your bag for some juice and your favorite snack, glaring at the man who stared at you coldly. That was the thing that unnerved you so much - you were stuck with him, the very guy who was responsible for this shit show. Sitting across each other with a safe distance at least, you continued your bad job of disinfecting the wound, grimacing at the pain.
"You're doing a horrible job", he spoke your mind, sounding amused. You debated throwing your vodka bottle at him but quickly discarded that thought, deeming your vodka very important for keeping you sane for however long this would last. Taking a sip, you frowned at the burning sensation in your throat and decided to mix it from now on with the juice.
"Fuck off, Dabi", you threw at him annoyed, "if it weren't for you, I would be in my goddamn bed right now and not stuck with you."
"Poor little girl", the man with black hair cooed sarcastically. Maybe you should've thrown something at him after all. Sighing dramatically, you went through with your idea of mixing your beverages and flicked the juice bottle open, gulping some liquid away, to finally mix it with your beloved disinfectant. Silently thanking the gods for bestowing you with such a quirk, you went ahead to pour the mixture down your throat. One step closer to keeping myself sane, you thought sarcastically.
Your body thankfully started to feel hot but you knew better that it was only an illusion. You didn't stop shivering ever since you made your way to the pharmacy in hopes of buying some medicine to treat your cold. Thanks to Dabi, who thought it was a great idea to put everything in flames and to destroy this building with that weird monster, you couldn't get your hands onto the much needed medication now. That shady man must've realized that you're sick too. His timing has always been that great.
Just as you put the bottle down you realized, that he still watched you carefully. That guy must've thought that you were potentially dangerous. You couldn't explain his wary look and staring otherwise. In your current state, you could maybe scratch him with your long nails on accident, but that was it. You never were a danger to begin with, even if you had been lucky enough to be born with such a rare quirk. You were a university student, not some hero in training - you didn't have the strength or stamina to actually fight anyone like heroes did.
Taking another sip from your bottle, an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine and you shook your sudden dizziness away. Your cheeks started feeling hot and you felt your heart pounding in your ears. This collapsed building was a lot colder than you anticipated and now you realized that desperate measures were needed for the survival of your body too.
"You must've noticed by now that I've got a cold", you spoke up and your voice trailed, not being able to prevent a sigh, "please be like, nice for once and give me your weird jacket, please?" Adding another please at the end to stress your need for warmth, you waited. Hoping for the jacket but already expecting the worst, you watched astonished how the villain stood up and walked over to you. Standing now right before you - towering over you more precisely - you followed his eyes to your vodka bottle.
"Let me have the rest." Shrugging, you accepted this trade without much thought and pushed the vodka bottle forward to him. Before you knew it, the torn, dark-blue jacket was thrown onto you. Smiling happily like a little child, you didn't let another second pass by before putting on that familiar smelling cloth. It was way too big for you but you couldn't complain. Better wearing a villain's jacket than nothing. Tugging the collar up, you leaned against the wall, watching how Dabi took a taste of the vodka.
"It was pretty expensive", you told him, not really knowing why you did that. You both had never been very talkative to begin with. Raising your brows at him for not moving away from you, you jerked up as he suddenly sat down next to you and grazed your shoulder in the process.
"It isn't bad", Dabi murmured and gulped a good amount of vodka down, what you couldn't have done. Instead of drinking some vodka alone and getting instantly more sick and too drunk, you were glad about having some juice left in your little portal. Peering at him dumfounded, you didn't bother complaining about him being way too close.
"So", you started with a sigh, "wasn't your greatest idea to attack some hero, that I don't even know, like this."
"I fulfilled my mission", he stated matter-of-factly. "It doesn't matter that I ended up here. I just need to wait for them to figure out the coordinates."
"What if they think that you're dead?" You couldn't bring yourself to sound anything other than disinterested. Holding a conversation with Dabi wasn't exactly your favorite activity, but you've got nothing better to do, you figured.
"I could take you as my hostage, once rescue services start arriving." You looked up to him with a blank look and huffed. He just shrugged. "You're not useful for anything else."
"Not like you left me anything to work with." Gesticulating around the destroyed room, you sighed, "no doorway, nothing. Not even a big handbag. My quirk needs some form of entrance to function. This way I can only grab things from the void that I had stored at some point in there."
"The void?", he repeated amused and you nodded.
"Yeah, my doctor had finally named that place after...", you trailed off, stopping yourself from completing the sentence. He didn't seem to listen at least. You took another gulp from your bottle before changing the subject, turning around to face him. "Did you know? Time doesn't flow inside the void. I found out after hiding there for waking up late for school. When I was ready to face my parents, I returned, only to realize that no time had passed. I have been studying last minute in the void quite a lot since then."
You finally gain a reaction from him; you would call it slightly surprised, before his expression went back to his usual one: "That’s a handy quirk to have."
"And?", you prompted him, a frown making its way onto your face. You just knew that he wasn't done talking.
"Do me a favor and I won’t take you as a hostage."
"What kind of favor?"
"Let me stay in that void of yours when I ask." Blinking at him, you felt dumb for assuming something way more important. Like being an accomplice for the criminals he’s part of.
"Only if it’s you. I don’t want to see your buddies or to implicate myself in a crime. It’s been enough with knowing you." Dabi shrugged, giving a curt nod.
"Deal." You didn’t notice leaning your head on his shoulder. Well, you did know you just did that, but it happened pretty naturally. Like it was normal. You excused this as acceptable behavior, because you were, frankly, very tired, sick and possibly drunk, and Dabi didn‘t react at all at this relatively intimate gesture.
"You doing alright nowadays?", you muttered, catching him off-guard with that question. So much so for being disinterested. You figured that it was an okay-ish time to ask that now. He took another sip of the vodka.
"Since when do you care?", he retorted, a sprinkle of amusement in his voice. If you didn't know any better you would've thought that he was hesitant to let you know, trying to dismiss any attempts of learning more about him. He didn’t look at you, facing straight ahead. You couldn’t help but huff, notably quietly due to your state.
"Not caring. Just curious, it’s been some time." Closing your eyes, it was strangely comforting to have his coat on you and to lean on him. There was a nice, familiar warmth radiating off him.
It took him a long beat to answer, indulging your attempt at small talk: "Still pursuing my goal." You hummed, a little lost in thought.
"Relentlessly?", you questioned further, him agreeing with a hum. Before you knew it, a sigh left your lips. No need to argue over that, you thought. You knew by now that he was absolutely unhinged. You proceeded to not dwell on it, aware you would get upset otherwise.
"Well, I'm busy studying to finally get my degree and be done with Uni. Not too long before I will be working a boring adult job", you decided to change the topic, noticing, how your vision started to get a little wonky. You decided to ignore that for as long as you could.
"Boring doesn't fit you." Moving your head up to try and gauge his expression, you came to the annoying realization that you had big troubles reading him. It used to be so easy with him and his lively expressions. Now all that you got were blank faces that told you nothing. "With your quirk you would be sought-after by any agency - I would even go so far and say that the corrupt HPSC would've gladly taken you in."
"Well, my childish dream of becoming a hero kind of died alongside my annoying, dear childhood friend." You involuntary laughed, voice going hoarse: "Figured it would be better to not get involved with that kind of world anyway. I'll stay out of that mess and will try to live an ordinary life."
A beat of silence followed, making it seem like it stretched for far too long. You wondered what went on in his head and if this entire conversation even stirred anything in him.
"Good." At this point you weren't sure if you heard that response or not, voice quieter and more gentle than any other words he had spoken tonight. The fever, the alcohol or both must've finally gotten to you, your skin hot but surely cold to the touch. Perhaps your breathing was also a little off, contributing to you feeling dizzy. Or maybe the wound accidentally caused by him was also part of the problem. The little voice in the back of your mind contributed that it must be because of him, his mere presence fucking with your mind for sure and tying it all together into this neat, little fucked up package of a situation.
It didn't matter what it was - you felt like you were going delirious either way. Your eyelids felt very heavy, deciding it was time to no longer force yourself to stay awake. Closing them, your nerves felt a lot calmer right away, the sweet release of sleep creeping closer.
"Go ahead and do your best to live a long and good life, [Y/N]. Boring might not fit you but it will keep you a lot more safe." That came out of nowhere, making you think that this must be a hallucination, a part of your dream. Something you wanted to hear to affirm that a part of him still cared about you in-between his spiral into madness where nothing and nobody else mattered besides wanting the one dead, that made him this way. The cold exterior and brash words left much to desire. And perhaps you did want that validation deep, deep down.
You hummed in response, going over his words in your head: "Rich coming from you, of all people.." You laughed quietly. Dabi did not seem to find it as funny as you did. In fact, he seemed it reasonable to stop the conversation right then and there, you half asleep by that point and realizing that he did not need to drag it out. His calm breathing lulled you into false safety, letting your guard down entirely and drifting into dreamland, silhouettes and conversations playing out of vaguely recognizable times before you grew up to be an adult.
When you came to again, you found yourself lying in a hospital bed. Confused and with a headache, you inquired how you ended up there. The nurse explained how rescue services found you knocked out and with a fever inside the ruins, caused by a villain attack who had wreaked havoc to murder a Pro Hero. You figured that Dabi must've been pulled by one of those portals at one point for him to disappear so seamlessly.
Once you were fully awake and on some medicine to help you feel better, two policemen came to ask you some questions. You simply told them that that villain had been scooped up through some portal right after the assault, them just nodding and writing that down, seemingly content with that answer. Your nurse started looking real upset when you explained your poor attempt at disinfecting your burn, her starting to lecture you how your little idea of pouring alcohol onto it had worsened the healing process. You couldn't help but grimace, realizing, that that bastard must've known all along and had watched you act like a clown for his amusement. You mentally noted down how pouring alcohol onto any wound was, in fact, a bad idea.
Additionally, you later also learnt that you had suffered a second-degree burn, thankfully nothing severe like you initially thought but you would need to visit the hospital again for a check-up. You were finally sent off the next day with an antibiotic cream and some pain meds, your burn wound properly bandaged and taken care of.
After the exhausting ordeal and calling your parents to inform them that you were fine, you finally went on your way, ready to fall into your own bed and just relax. You arrived to a small, white grocery bag hung on your door, containing some scar ointment with your favorite snacks from the conbini.
That seemed like an apology. Or an attempt at an apology without actually apologizing. All things considered this was an atrocious apology but it wasn't very likely for you to meet him again anyhow. For all you knew, this was the last of him you ever got - and you would gladly take this little gesture over nothing.
You wouldn't complain about a gift from a dead friend, after all.