A/N: I was given a suggestion by Terrence Johnny Stanford to listen to the song Anesthesia by Type O Negative. The song does indeed closely mirror the feelings in the relationship between Dabi and Melina. So I used his suggestion as inspiration for Dabi's thoughts and emotions, as well as the words he uses, to express his emotions in this chapter. It's difficult as hell writing an apathetic character who suddenly develops feelings for someone. So, fingers crossed that I didn't miss the mark. Hope you like the chapter!

Dabi hunkered down on the fire escape to peek into her window. He saw her sitting curled up in the pink fuzzy chair, asleep, a book laying face down on her chest. She was wearing a lavender tank top and yellow pajama shorts covered with fat white sheep wearing lavender sleep caps on their heads.

He liked this new, softer side of her. However, he didn't like the new, sharper edges, the suicidal tendencies, she had developed. The only thing more frightening than someone with everything to lose was someone with nothing to lose. He was no longer sure which category she fit into.

Unfortunately, Shigaraki had succeeded his plan to break her - just not in the way he expected. Obviously he never intended to create a raging bitch who would be coming after him with the fury of hell in her heart.

Dabi patted the pocket of his jacket that held the two black cylinders, the retracted metal batons. He had found them under a table during the clean up after the short but violent brawl with their surprise guest.

His eyes studied the woman rolled into a fetal position in the chair. Could the mystery man in grey leather really be her? If he had not suffered at her hands himself, he would never believed her to be capable of such strength and brutality.

His eyes roamed over her body, visually measuring and comparing. The height and build were right. He recalled how it felt when the person enclosed his waist with their arms. The embrace had the same fierce gentleness of her hugs. When his hand was slapped away as he tried to remove the mask, it reminded him of one of their first encounters. The person never fought back, never tried to hurt him. The only hit he received was when the person kicked him in the chest to free themselves before he could remove the mask. That kick hurt like a bitch.

Dabi rubbed his chest where the bruise over his heart had finally stopped aching. For days he could see the imprint of the boot sole in purple and black on his chest. At last the bruise had faded to brown and green.

It can't be. It just can't be her, he thought to himself, hoping against hope it wasn't true. But he knew the truth of the matter. Deep down inside he knew.

The window was open as if she had been waiting for him but had fallen asleep. It was three in the morning after all. He had wanted to see her much sooner. As a matter of fact, he had wanted to come straight to her that night instead of returning to the bar to pick up the pieces However, good sense told him that would be a huge mistake. If he had come to her, he might have gotten them both killed.

Dabi slid one leg into the window, then ducked down to clear the windowsill and pulled the rest of his body into her room. He stood in front of her, staring at her. She was so pretty, so innocent looking in her sleep. Maybe he shouldn't wake her. Perhaps he should never have come here.

Turning on his heel, he moved swiftly toward the window.

"Dabi?" she called before he could slide back through. "What are you doing? You're not leaving are you?"

"Actually, I was," he said, turning back around to look at her.

Melina yawned and stretched, uncurling her body from the chair to stand up.

"Please, don't leave. I haven't seen you in almost two weeks," she murmured. "I miss you."

"Oh, that's funny because when I saw you yesterday you looked like you were having an absolute blast, and I was nothing but a bad memory," Dabi growled, clenching his fingers around the weapons.

"Yesterday?" She sounded confused, then her eyes widened and her cheeks reddened. "Oh."

"So you're siding with the heroes now?" Dabi blatantly accused her.

Melina rolled her eyes, shrugging her shoulders. Tossing back her hair in truly queenly fashion as if she didn't give a damn what the riff raff thought of her, she sniffed arrogantly and dared to shove her nose in the air. Wow. She really is a piece of work. An absolute masterpiece.

"You have nothing to say for yourself?" he demanded, wanting her to argue, to prove him wrong.

Her eyes fell on him, narrow and intense, reminding him of her bygone cat eyes.

"I have plenty to say for myself. The real question is, are you willing to hear it?" she questioned him.

She straightened her shoulders, facing him head on. He liked it when she took a solid stance, expressing her dominance, her fearlessness. A smile played at the corner of his lips as she inhaled to begin speaking but he spoke before she could. There was something he wanted to say first.

"Why are you friends with a kid?!" he yelled, looming over her. "I told you to stay away from that kid. He's my..." He stopped speaking abruptly as if preventing himself from saying something he shouldn't. "He's my enemy. A hero. I've fought against him and his little friends before."

"That boy is a veritable child. He's only a friend," she insisted, folding her arms under her breasts. "I've told you a thousand times on no one's side. Have you never heard to keep your friends close and your enemies closer? I take comfort in keeping those I don't trust close at hand. Why do you think I attempted to ingratiate myself with the League of Villains?" she inquired pointedly. "By the way, you're not the only one who can scoot around in dark corners, hiding in the shadows and remaining unseen while observing."

Ooooh, scary stuff. Dabi actually did find her scary as hell on a certain level. After all, she had gotten the drop on him and Toga the night she shot her with the bee sting dart. Then she had the gall to stroll right into the bar and make a mess in the haven of the man who already had it out for her. That took a shitload of nerves he would have never guessed she had.

"I also like being right out there, making a spectacle of myself. That's called hiding in plain sight. Another tactic I enjoy employing."

No, shit, he thought to himself without speaking the words. She was on a roll, and he didn't want to interrupt.

"I am on my side, and my side alone. I only have friends when it's convenient."

Dabi wanted to call bullshit but didn't. She needed friends. She needed him and for some goddamn irritating reason she needed that hero kid.

"And I'm never without enemies. It's an unfortunate side effect of not putting up with anyone's shit. You can't please all of the people all of the time, but pissing everybody off at once is a piece of cake," she said with a wry grin.

Melina certainly had a talent for pissing people off. Once again, she had made Shigaraki fit to be tied. Even Kurogiri avoided the man at all costs lately, fed up with the ranting and raving, the childish fits that often involved throwing random objects at hand.

Dabi pulled his hand out of his pocket, bringing out the batons.

"By the way, I was returning these," he announced, extending his hand to her.

She shocked him by having no reaction at all except to stare questioningly at the black cylinders in his hands.

"What are those?" she asked him in a bland tone without taking her eyes off the objects.

"You dropped these during the fight at the bar. I thought you might want them back," he pressed, extending his arm completely to push them closer to her. "Here. Take them."

"I don't even know what those are." She backed away. Her face was deathly pale, almost sickly gray.

"Melina, you're lying," he accused her. His voice wavered despite the excessive control he used to keep from shouting at her in his frustration.

For a second she appeared astonished, her mouth dropping open and her eyes widening into large circles. Her hand pressed to her chest over her heart.

"I don't know what - "

"Stop lying!" he bellowed, dropping the batons onto the floor before he threw them through her freshly painted wall. "If you care anything about me at all, stop lying to me."

"Okay," she murmured in a way that conveyed she admitted defeat. She shrugged, keeping her eyes on her toenails painted the same light purple color as her shirt.

"Tell me why," he begged her, stepping close to her. He placed his finger under her chin, lifting her chin up so he could see her face as well as to look into her eyes. "Why would you do something so stupid?"

"Because," she said, her eyes narrowing with determination and stubbornness as they held his. "If I'm going down, I'm going down with a fight. I won't sit around, scared and pathetic, waiting for them to kill me. I might even get lucky and take one of them down with me."

"I could have killed you," he said, brushing her hair out of her face that obscured her eyes.

"When did you know it was me?" Melina turned away from him, leaning against the nearby column at the foot of the bed.

"Not until later. I thought back about everything, started piecing things together. Did you really think I wouldn't recognize your body? The way you move? The way you touch me?"

"I guess I thought way too highly of myself believing I could pull one over on you." She clutched the tall, thin column as if was the only thing holding her up. "Now I need you to tell me the truth. Did you send me the bouquet? The death threat?"

"No," he answered flatly. "Why would I do something like that?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't," she rejoined, her shoulders sagging with relief.

"I don't know who could have sent it. Anyone in the bar that night. Besides, I'm pretty sure you managed to put yourself on the shit list of every member of the League of Villains. God, Melina, why? Why did you do this? You only made things more difficult for us."

"I did what I had to do to protect myself," she responded, her voice pelting him with shards of ice. "I told you before...I'm the only one I truly trust with my life."

Her tone injured him more than her words. His heart ached as badly as it had the night she kicked him on that rooftop. What the fuck is going on here? This wasn't supposed to hurt. NONE of this was supposed to hurt. He wasn't supposed to feel anything. He should be able to walk away without a second thought of her.

"I don't think I should see you anymore," he shot back venomously in self-defense. He wanted to hurt her as much as she was hurting him. "I won't be coming back."

Melina turned around so he could see her face. Although her cheeks bore streaks from her tears, her eyes were presently dry. They had transformed into hot, molten gold again.

"Now who's a liar?"

She was far too fucking tough for her own good and his. He wanted to be angry, to hate her, to be able to leave her and not look back. However, his feet stayed glued to the wooden planked floor as if he had grown roots there.

"Then let me tell you this bit of truth," he hissed through his gritted teeth. "Life was easier before I had feelings for you. I wish I had never learned to care about you. I regret knowing you."

Dabi seized her by the arm, jerking her forward. Her face was impassive, but her lower lip trembled. At least he believed he saw it quivering before she pressed her lips together into a thin, straight line. How could such a beautiful woman with a gentle touch be so harsh and cruel? She was sweet enough that literal honey flowed out of her mouth yet she was capable of such hatefulness, stonewalling him and shutting him out of her heart in less time than it takes for it to beat just once.

"How can you not feel anything?" he asked her.

"You misunderstand, Dabi. I feel everything. I feel too much, therefore, I have no choice but to go numb," she explained, leaning closer to press her chest to his.

He could feel her heart beating against his chest. The way she stared at him made him think she believed if she looked away, he would vanish into thin air. He held his breath as she slipped her hands under his coat. Her hands slid over his chest, over his shoulders, and down his arms to remove his coat in one extremely smooth movement.

"Whoever said it is better love and lose than to never have loved at all is a fucking idiot," she said, lifting his t-shirt.

"I agree." He pulled the t-shirt over his head after she raised it to his shoulders.

Her eyes softened when they saw the bruise on his chest. Her eyebrows drew together in worry. The corners of her mouth drooped with sadness. Her fingers stroked the green and brown marks that no longer looked like a bootprint. Her silky smooth lips pressed a kiss to each of the remnants of the injury she had inflicted on him.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"They say love hurts. I guess it's true," he murmured, running his fingers through her long, loose waves.

His fingers twined into her hair, pulling until she emitted a small yelp. Finally, she leaned back her head, exposing her throat to him. His lips pressed to her skin, relishing its softness. His tongue darted out, tasting her. God, she even tasted like honey. The stuff practically oozed from her skin.

"I would have been so much better off to have never known you," Dabi said, his fingers sneaking under the hem of her shirt.

"Ignorance really is bliss, I suppose," Melina concurred, her hands gliding up his arms.

Dabi's hands moved up her sides, gathering her shirt as they went. His hands covered her breasts. They were a perfect handful, fitting neatly into his palms. He cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in his hands. For their size, they were heavy, compact, and firm. His thumb stroked over the nipples causing them to tighten into rigid nubs. The moan she released when he rubbed them again made him harden, pulsating with a yearning discomfort.

"You are an absolute fucking nightmare," he growled, angry with himself as his self-control melted away while another part of him hardened like iron. "And I am a complete fucking idiot because I can't let you go."

"Don't let me go," she begged in a desperate whisper.

A groan passed through his lips when her small hand pressed against the bulge making his pants uncomfortably tight. Like an addict, all he could think about was getting a fix of his favorite drug. His drug stood in front of him, her breasts in his hands, her hand on his hard cock stroking it through his pants to relieve the delectable pain of arousal.

"Do you want to punish me?" she asked. "I've been bad."

"Wh-what?" he stammered, gazing down at her in confusion.

"Get undressed and sit down on the bed," she commanded him in the irresistible way that made him addicted to her.

While Dabi took off his pants and shoes, his eyes hungrily observed her pulling her shirt over her head then pushing down her little bitty shorts. After he sat down on the side of the bed, she carefully lay down across his lap, placing her behind in a prime spanking position across his thighs. Her most intimate part lay on top his causing it to twitch under her as his fingers stroked her lily white behind streaked with the purple burn scars.

"Go ahead...spank me," she prompted him, raising her behind a little. "I deserve it."

Dabi took a tentative smack. When she did not make a noise, he slapped her behind once more, a little bit harder. It felt good. Adrenaline rushed through his system making his skin tingle.

He slapped her again, making his hand sting. She grunted. Every muscle in his body tensed with excitement then released. Not only was he releasing his emotional frustration each time he smacked her ass, with each slap her body bounced a little, rubbing against his throbbing erection. Leaning back, raising his hips into her, he whacked her soundly. His hand meeting her butt made a cracking sound, and she whimpered, writhing on his lap.

"Oh, god," he groaned, placing his hand on her ass to hold her down on top of him.

He gave her several more stinging thwacks until she cried out his name. This was fun and all, very cathartic, but he required something more. And so did she. He figured out a new way to punish her.

Picking her up by the waist, he moved her around to place her on her back in the middle of the bed. Grabbing the curtains from the columns on either side of the bed, he wrapped the sheer material around her wrists to bind her loosely.

"Dabi." Melina said his name in a pleading way that turned him on even more.

He bent her knees placing the soles of her feet flat on the mattress, positioning himself between her widely spread thighs. The tip of his penis bobbed at her glistening entrance, ready to plunge deep inside of her.

"Do you still regret knowing me?" she asked, her eyes half closed with desire, glassy with wanting.

"No," he confessed, cupping her jaw in his palm. "I just want to not feel the pain." He leaned over her, placing her hand over his heart. "It hurts here."

"I know. I can help you numb the pain," she promised. "I'll be your anesthesia."

Dabi resisted the impulse to thrust into her, to sink himself all the way down to his pelvic bone. Instead, he pushed in the head, watching her wiggle her hips in an attempt to get more of him inside of her. Pulling himself back out completely, he almost laughed at her disappointed groan, her pouting expression. Pushing his hips forward, he entered her a little deeper. She bit her lower lip to hold back a moan. Arching her back, she tried to impale herself further onto him, but he pulled back.

"Uh, uh, uh," he chastised her, pinching her nipple and receiving a whimper in return. "Not yet.

Despite being able to easily untangle herself from the thin curtains twisted around her wrists, Melina chose to remain his captive object of desire. He believed she enjoyed being teased as much he delighted in teasing her. He repeated the in and out process many times, going a little deeper each time. Almost driving them both mad with anticipation, he finally sank all the way into her, gradually reaching the hilt of his shaft. Giving her what she wanted gratified them both. She whispered his name into his ear, squirming under him as he lay still allowing her to feel every inch of him inside of her.

Then, the long, slow tease was over. Dabi fucked her hard and fast, reaching the point of no return quickly. Striving for the little death, he failed to experience a true la petite mort, or a temporary loss of consciousness, that sometimes accompanies a powerful orgasm. However, he did feel a rush of endorphins that offered a temporary respite from the pain both physical and emotional. All of his anger, frustration, and fear was swept away with that satisfying flow leaving him and going into her.

Melina unwound her arms from the curtains, pushing the fabric aside. She extended her arms to him, beckoning him to seek comfort in her embrace. Not too long ago, he would have laughed at the prospect. Affection had never been something he enjoyed. But she had changed his mind about so many intimate concepts. Especially this most disturbing and elusive concept of love.

Dabi cautiously positioned his body on top of hers, permitting himself to revel in her embrace. Exhausted from his efforts, his body tingled with a pleasant numbness, feeling electrified but relaxed.

Lovesick idiot. You're being an unbelievably big dumbass, he berated himself as she tenderly stroked his head, his shoulders, his back.

Although he wished things could go back to the way they were, he knew that could never happen. The unknown future was unsettling at best, possibly lethal to one or both of them at worst. He hated it. He hated all of it. The only thing he didn't hate was her which would eventually be their downfall - he was sure of it.

Sinking further into her embrace, forgetting everything in the outside world, he concentrated on her. He inhaled her scent. Honey, flowers, great sex. His fingertips slowly moved over her arm, her chest, her face. Smooth skin - soft, so soft. Her body felt warm, comforting. Her breathing was cadenced and steady; her chest rising and falling at regular intervals under his. He shouldn't be finding his center in her, making her his point of focus. But at the moment, he needed to make her the anchor of his emotions before he became completely unhinged. Soon he would have to leave her. He would do everything within his power to get back to her. But life and some people had a bad habit of getting in the way sometimes.