Hello! Here's the eigth chapter, please tell me what you think of it :3
Fencer29: Hello! the Yaoyorozus are mostly bragging when they poison Mirko, because they thought it would work. Pride is a ready sin after all :D As for Nezu and Recovery Girl knowing, I have to admit I did not think about them ^^'''''' It's a mistake on my part sorry!
Chapter 8.
Dabi blinked once, twice. Even if he could talk without bleeding all over the place and ripping his jaw open, he was not sure he would have said anything. The sight was mesmerizing, yet not in the good sense. Shigaraki and the heroine-in-training had finally returned to the room after what had seemed to be an eternity for him, and now sported fucking wings. Actual, feathery, immense wings reminiscing of fucking Hawks' ones; Shigaraki's ones were white with bluish tips while the girl's ones were black. They were both panting as if they had just run a marathon, and Dabi was pretty sure that the faintest breeze could knock them down. He tried to get up, but his entire body complained, pain like a million needles on his skin. Almost all of his staples had come out because of the explosion, and with the addition of overusing his quirk, his entire body was protesting, no matter he could not feel pain anymore.
The girl staggered to the bed and fell next to him, panting heavily. Shigaraki seemed to follow her idea, collapsing on whatever room was left on the mattress. They clearly needed to rest. Dabi had no idea where the wings came from or why they now had fucking wings, but the process – which had lasted about an hour if his perception of time was not too fucked up – had clearly been exhausting and painful. The flame-wielder closed his eyes. He needed to clean his wounds, but he also needed rest. A small nap would not hurt, and he did not have enough energy to properly take care of himself or even think at the moment. Soon, the sleep he had been fighting against for a good hour now catch up and blessed darkness engulfed him.
He woke up at someone carefully moving him. Dabi's eyes shot open, and he almost jumped on his feet to fight back but stopped himself at the last second. It was the girl, and she looked fairly worried. She had removed her bloodstained and torn up dress, wearing just a pair of jeans and a sports bra. For a second, he wondered why she was not wearing a shirt, but the fluttering of her new black wings reminded him of the situation. Right. He glanced at her eyes, silently asking her what she was doing. He could not risk opening his mouth for anything. His wounds would get worse, and he did not feel like having more damage to fix.
"I'm going to look over your wounds, but I have to undress you. I'll leave your underwear. Is that okay?"
He slowly nodded. He hated having someone helping him, but pride was pretty useless against an infection. The girl smiled softly – although her eyes told him she was on the verge of a mental breakdown – and helped him as he sat up. His entire body screamed in agony when he moved, but Dabi swallowed it. Now was not the time to be a weak ass bitch.
"T – Shigaraki is cleaning himself up. He'll help once he's out."
Dabi nodded and noticed her hair was slightly wet; she must have done the same before helping him out. That made sense; considering the state the two had returned in, a shower had probably not hurt. He difficultly removed his cloak – which was pretty much completely burnt, he would need a new one –, but the shirt was a no-go. Raising his arms was completely out of the question. The pain would be unbearable, and he would tear apart his skin without the staples. Shigaraki returned a few moments later, wearing nothing but black pants.
"Oh, you're just in time", the girl said before gesturing to Dabi's shirt. "He can't take it off, and I'm not strong enough to rip it open. Could you do it please?"
"You want me to rip his shirt open?" Shigaraki repeated, eyebrows lifted in bewilderment. Dabi cocked his head to the side. Was there a problem with that?
"Well, I don't see any other option. And he can't keep on wearing dirty, ripped clothes if he wants to recover."
"It makes sense," Shigaraki conceded and came over to Dabi. "Here goes one of your two-hundreds white shirts."
'That's rich coming from the guy who's been wearing the same fucking shoes for years.' He remained still when Shigaraki grabbed the shirt and tore it open. A hissed passed Dabi's lips; some staples had followed suit, and his body spasmed once or twice as the small pieces of steel were torn from his skin. His entire body was crawling with pain, and he could not even scream or curse.
"Sorry."
His pants were removed as well and he found himself in his underwear, bleeding, skin barely holding together. He really looked like the fucking Frankenstein monster, but he loved it. Sure, it was not the most practical appearance, but it would be perfect to get his revenge on Endeavour. Who would not be horrified at the sight of the bloody number one's son? How could he do such a thing to one of his own children? Was he truly fit to protect the people? He almost grinned maniacally at the thought.
"It's pretty bad," the heroine-in-training concluded after having examined him. "But we're lucky that no infection settled in." She grabbed a stapler from some sort of first-aid kit the wackos had brought with the now-winged pair. "I'm going to start with your face. But first, you have to… to open your mouth, I need to make sure there is no dirt or anything in the wounds…"
He nodded and opened his mouth, revealing the huge holes between the flesh, tendons, and muscles underneath the charred skin. It felt like burning alive all over again, and he would kill for anything that could make the pain go away. The girl winced at the sight of his face, going paler, hands shaking even more than before. Even Shigaraki seemed uneasy at the sight.
"It's… I'll try to be as gentle as possible… I'm sorry we don't have morphine…"
She slowly cleaned his face, careful and gentle. He had not received such care in a long time; it felt strange. He was not fond of the feeling; he did not need people to care for him; once he would have danced on this piece of shit of a world grave, he would probably go in a firework of blue fire. It would surely be a hell of a sight to behold, a shame he would not be able to see it. Oh well, he would still see perfect little Shōto go up in blue flames. His ice would not be able to save him from the flames of hell.
"Ready?" He nodded, and she breathed deeply. "Try to remain still."
In the end, Shigaraki had to hold him into place. His body was jerking wildly whenever a staple went through his flesh, especially under the eyes. The pain was a burning flame charring his nerves, and he gripped the sheets as tight as he could. If he could cry, tears would be rolling down his cheeks.
"Alright. Your face is done", the girl finally said.
What was her bloody name again? She was one of perfect Shōto Todoroki's friends, right? Maybe he would kill her once all of this was over. It would teach this little puppet a lesson. It would probably suck, though. Mirko would be out for his blood – more than she already was, he was a villain after all –, and she was stapling him back together. He could show some basic decency and allow her to live. For now, at least. The girl stapled his skin together and when he could finally move his arms without having to fear ripping off whatever was left of healthy skin on his torso.
"Thanks", he rasped, massaging his body and testing his limbs one after the other.
And then, the girl started pacing the room, back and forth, back and forth, as if she had just remembered something crucial.
000
Why had she not made trackers? It was her fault. How could have forgotten to create the objects? It was her fault. Had she gone dim-witted? It was her fault. Was she not supposed to be the smartest student of class 1-A? It was her fault. Was Mirko safe? It was her fault. Why was she such a mistake? It was her fault. Why must she always fail those she loved? It was her fault. Why had she abandoned her sweet Tenko? It was her fault. Why had she not made trackers? It was her fault, her fault, her fault, her fault, her fault, her fault. She had failed, failed, failed, failed, failed, failed.
There was probably blood and skin underneath her nails, but she did not care. Failures did not deserve to be cared for. She was such a shameful failure, a pathetic excuse of a sister who had run away from her baby brother, a mistake who brought nothing but sadness to those around her, a stupid little girl with stupid dreams who never learnt, a –
Hands grabbed her wrists. She looked up, her dull black eyes finding two beautiful rubies shining beneath a waterfall of snow upon the porcelain. Tenko.
"Stop that", he hissed, and she nodded numbly. "The fuck is wrong with you?"
"I left you, it's my fault, I didn't make trackers, it's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault –" Her flow of words was interrupted by Tenko shaking her shoulders. It was the only thought she could muster, playing in her mind like a broken record.
"Enough!", he roared. "Now's not the bloody time to worry over somethin' that happened sixteen years ago! Sit your ass down 'n help us think of somethin'. Or at least stop pacin' the fucking room 'n tearin' your own throat open."
She nodded again, following meekly when he sat her on a chair, rubbing his temples. Her eyes fell on the wings on his back. The monstrous appendices were almost curled up against his skin, slightly grazing it sometimes. She wanted to rip them off, correct her mistake, protect him, erase all the scars on his body. He did not deserve to be used the way he had been, by the cult, by All For One. The man who had stolen him away, hidden him from the world, from her. She should have been the one to raise him, help him with his first crush, help him with homework. But did she even deserve it? Did Tenko not deserve better than her? She had left him out in the garden all alone, after all. Why had she been such a bad sister? Why, why, why, why, why, why, why?
"For fuck's sake, will you stop?"
She lowered her hands and stared at her fingers; she had been scratching her neck again. Blood and skin adorned them, as she had predicted it.
"Boss, about what that Archangel bitch said. You two are siblings?"
Dabi. His voice was deep and raspy, talking was clearly painful, and she did not have the strength to look at him. She did not have the strength to do anything. She should have done better; she should have found a way to do better. Her breath turned erratic. She had failed. Again. Two failures in one day, she truly was a – Tenko's deep raspy voice brought her back.
"Yeah. Her name's Hana, she's my sister. Big, little, dunno, she used to be older than me, now she's younger. She survived my decay because of some quirk fuckery, no one really knows. Fucking batshit crazy story."
"You have wings."
"Fair enough. Now, any idea on how we get out of this hellhole?"
"Fight our way out?"
"With no quirks 'n a walking open wound waitin' for septicaemia? You're still half-dead."
"Rude but fair."
"I should have made trackers…", she mumbled again.
"Yes, we all got that part", Tenko growled. "Now, any good, feasible idea on how we get out?"
Her mind did not register that part, continuing on its track of thoughts.
"I made one during the summer camp attack. Why did –"
"What d'ya mean you made one durin' the summer camp attack?", Tenko snapped, and she looked at him.
"I made a tracker… Awase-san merged it inside the nōmu attacking us. It helped the heroes finding and rescuing –"
A yelp of pain escaped as her brother brutally backhanded her to the ground, straddling her, his hands finding her neck once again. Her eyes widened, and she instinctively gasped for air. She found Tenko's eyes; the two rubies were shining with pure hatred, his entire body shaking with fury. Her body was once again assaulted with scorching pain, her mind going blank, the wings crushed beneath her back.
"It's you. It's your fault, they found Sensei, they arrested him! You little bitch! We lost everything because of you!"
Tenko was suddenly pushed off of her by Dabi, who had apparently kicked him in the ribs. She rolled to her stomach, coughing and instinctively holding her throat.
"Calm the fuck down!" the pyrokinetic villain shouted, stepping between her and Tenko. "She dies we die!" he added, showing the door. "They need her as a god incubator or some shit, ye're a sperm donor."
"I don't give a fuck! She got Sensei arrested!"
"All Might arrested him! Not her."
Tenko roared in pure fury and slammed the door of the bathroom behind him. Tears stung her eyes, and Dabi crouched before her, examining her neck.
"'S ugly but ye're fine", he concluded. He was about to get up, but she grabbed him, uncaring he was wearing nothing but underwear. She did not care for nudity. "What now?"
She fell into his arms, tears cascading down her cheeks and sobs racking her body like an earthquake as wails of pain tore themselves from her throat. She did not know why she was crying; everything hurt so much. Her heart, her mind, her body. Blood was hammering against her temples, her heart was thundering beneath her ribcage, and a storm was raging in her head. Why could it not quiet down? She had not meant to hurt Tenko. She did not know at the time; she was not sure yet. However, All For One had called him "Tenko Shimura", and she had known, it had been confirmed. He was her baby brother, her last living family member. She loved her adoptive parents deeply, but it was not the same without Tenko.
Tenko, who would bring her drawings for her birthday, who would always run to her when he was scared, who smiled at her as if she was the sun of his world, who hugged her tight whenever she was down. Her baby brother, whom she had failed. A wail of agony escaped her lips as she sobbed against the pyrokinetic. She did not why he did not reject her, but she could not be thankful enough. His skin was unbelievably warm, reminding her of her mother's embrace.
000
"Fuck!"
Tomura roared as he punched the mirror with all of his strength. It shattered on impact, glass cutting his skin and drawing blood. Neither the slight pain nor the sight did anything to soothe the rage, and Tomura kicked and punched about everything he could put his hands on, cursing and roaring until his voice was hoarse. He could not form any coherent thought; pure rage was running through his veins; fury was raging in his mind and the desire to destroy had never been more present. He wanted to utterly annihilate everything and make that horrendous blend of painful feelings go away. If only he could decay them.
His eyes fell on the shower. He had taken one already, but he did not care. Turning on the water, he stepped of his clothes, almost ripping them, and stood naked under the stream of hot water. His skin would most likely be reddish once he would step out of the steaming shower, but he did not care in the slightest. It would go away in a few minutes; it was nothing bad. Moreover, boiling his skin was something he definitely enjoyed. Every nerve was alive, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the hot water and calming down. The feelings coming from his wings were bizarre to say to least, and the appendices seemed pretty sensitive.
They might be useful during sex, who knew? He chuckled at the thought. The Paranormal Liberation Front was already a pretty nice to be around when he wanted to get laid, and the wings would surely make things even easier. Thinking about sex in this situation might be strange, but Tomura did not care; whatever helped him calm down was good in his books. He ran his hands on his face, trying to force himself to remain calm and calculated. He had to, otherwise, he and Dabi would never make it out of here. The heroine-in-training could go and die for all he cared; she was just like the others, and he had been completely stupid to allow himself to feel anything for her.
So why did she help Dabi? She could have let him suffer. Why did she cry for you? Why would she allow you to strangle her, twice? The voice in his head was strangely childlike as if Tenko Shimura resurfaced from the depths of Tomura's memory at the thought of his sister. Tomura snickered.
"Fuck if I care. She let father hurt me, just like the others. She got Sensei arrested."
She was a little girl, you thought so earlier, and she was rescuing her friend, just like you would rescue yours.
"Shut up!", he roared, slamming his fist against the shower wall.
Tomura stormed out of the shower, quickly half-drying his body and throwing on the pair of underwear and jeans he had been wearing. He opened the door to the main room of his cage to quite the sight. Dabi was putting the heroine-in-training in the bed, and she seemed unconscious. He watched the other villain make sure she was not crushing her wings and rose his eyebrows. Since when his right hand was so careful around heroes?
"She saved my ass", the black-haired villain articulated, as if sensing his question. "Also, she cried herself to sleep." Tomura shrugged and sat on one of the chairs, massaging his temples. His head was pounding. "Ya gonna cry too?"
"Fuck you, dipshit."
"Ya seriously gonna have an existential crisis now?"
"I've been kidnapped by a cult; my sister just came back from the dead and is the reason Sensei is in jail. I'm entitled to have one."
Suddenly, he inexplicably started to cackle. The cackle turned into full-blown hysteria, and Tomura threw his head back, arm over his eyes, as insane laughter spilled from his mouth. He wanted to destroy the last few days and wake up back in his room. Everything felt so unreal, dreamlike. Or rather nightmarish.
'Fuck you too, universe.'