Note: What even is an update schedule? *laughs nervously*
Blood leaks down her hand, but Momo clenches the glass harder anyways. The pain barely registers in the back of her mind, although she knows that it will come back to bite her later on.
Her muscles are rigid, teeth bared.
For the first time, she realizes she's capable of hurting someone. That she wants to.
Maybe that will scare her later on, but, right now, the only thing Momo is capable of feeling is a sort of desperate fury.
She needs to get them both out of this, but she's not sure that there's any way that she can.
Dabi maintains his grip on Bakugo. His face remains impassive, though Momo is sure she didn't imagine the brief flicker of irritation across his features when he glances at Toga.
And Bakugo… his face is pale and drawn, the dark patch spreading across the lower half of his shirt a testament to how much blood he's already lost.
And his shoulder… She hadn't even noticed before now. It looks like an entire patch of cloth from his right shoulder has been torn- no, not torn- rotted away. His shirt hides whatever damage has been done, but she can see the crisp, white of bandages poking out.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but," it takes Momo a moment to realize Dabi is actually addressing her, "put the glass down."
Toga hangs back, hand clutching at her wounded shoulder.
Momo feels sick, but she… she realizes she would do it again. If it meant saving herself and Bakugo, she would do it again. Except… except she hasn't actually saved them.
Toga, while in obvious pain, isn't down. Not by a long shot. Dabi might have his hands on Bakugo, but he's still a very immediate threat.
Even with her (very pathetic now that it's been paired against a villain with a literal flame quirk) shard of glass, Momo isn't confident she could get Bakugo away from him.
Maybe the best thing for her to do here is just… give up.
Her stomach sinks.
There's no way she can win this fight.
Logically, she knows this, yet it feels like something has been awakened inside her.
She can't be passive. She has to fight, both for herself and for her classmate.
If she gives it up now, she has no idea what will follow. She has no idea if they'll even be allowed to live.
Bakugo has already been tortured. She can see that much. She doesn't know what they'll do to her or what they'll continue to do to him.
This is an escape attempt and she's not naive enough to let herself hope this will remain unpunished.
Her continued defiance now may only make things worse for them.
Momo's resolve wavers, but she can't bring herself to drop what feels like her last line of defense.
She bites her lip, but she doesn't drop the glass.
"Drop it," There's a cutting edge present in his tone now, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"L-let him go." Her voice trembles and Momo realizes how insane this has to look. She's in cuffs. She's a student. And she's trying to make a deal with the villain? Her classmate for a piece of glass?
His expression hardens and before she even has time to consider what he might do next, Bakugo is jerking to get away from him, an aborted cry on his lips.
Dabi's grip is merciless and, injured already as he is, Bakugo doesn't have the power to get away from him.
What…?
It takes her only a moment to realize that he's burning him.
Bakugo doesn't scream- and maybe that's what makes it so horrifying- but his bloodless face and clenched teeth speak of a pain Momo can't comprehend.
Isn't burning supposed to be the worst?
"Stop!" For a moment, she forgets to breathe. "Stop it!" She lets the glass clatter to the ground. She doesn't care anymore. She just wants Dabi to stop hurting him.
Dabi does, releasing his arm, and Bakugo crumples to the ground with an audible gasp. He curls around himself, shoulders shaking silently. Whatever limits her classmate has, he is fast approaching them, if he hasn't reached them already, and that… that's terrifying because Momo has never seen Bakugo look so defeated.
She's on the floor before she can think any further and suddenly she can't breathe for an entirely different reason.
Toga has tackled her to the ground, face contorted with a rage that's almost demonic in its intensity.
Toga's hand is clamped over the lower half of her face.
Momo can't scream, she can't fight back, she can only lie there and wait for the other shoe to drop. Wait for whatever punishment will come for what was an unplanned and unintentional rebellion on her part. For what was likely a very planned and very intentional rebellion on Bakugo's part.
"Aw, you made me bleed!" Toga's lips are pulled back, teeth barred in a full blown snarl. "That wasn't very nice of you."
There's a metallic taste on her tongue and Momo almost gags when she realizes that it isn't her blood she's tasting- it's Toga's.
Her nails dig into Momo's flesh and she squeezes her eyes shut, terrified of what might follow.
"Toga…" Momo's eyes snap open at the clipped warning that comes from Dabi. "Get off of her."
She seeks him out with her eyes. She doesn't know if she should dare think of him as an unexpected ally.
Some of the rage drains from Toga's expression, frustration taking its place. "You're no fun," she complains, but she obeys and she sits upright, but she doesn't remove her hand.
As it is, it's only a partial relief.
"Get your shoulder looked at before you ruin it," he tells her impassively. He's not looking at either of them, Momo realizes. His eyes are focused on Bakugo.
Is he admiring his handiwork or making sure he can't try another escape?
Momo can't tell, but the former idea brings the taste of bile to her mouth.
In any case, there's no chance of further escape. Now that the immediate threat of Toga is no longer taking up her attention, Momo realizes that they have further company.
A third villain- a broad-shouldered woman- steps into her field of vision. She steps closer and gently takes Toga by the arm.
"Let's get your arm looked at," she says, voice deep and soothing. She barely spares Momo a glance, but that's just fine with her.
"Big sis…" Toga protests, but she allows herself to be guided to her feet. "It's just blood. It barely even hurts."
"Get her out of here, Magne." Dabi sounds tired if nothing else.
"This certainly makes things interesting," another voice cuts into the proceedings. Shigaraki stands in the doorway, taking in the scene before him.
A tingling starts in her chest and works its way down to her stomach.
Momo swallows past the thick lump in her throat when he makes eye contact.
He holds her gaze for several seconds, before he fixates on Bakugo.
Even around the hand-mask, Momo can see the draw of his eyebrows, the way his expression shifts to something dangerous and unpredictable.
"You're certainly doing a fantastic job at making this harder for yourself." Dabi doesn't look at him, doesn't even face him, as he speaks.
"Fuck off," Katsuki snarls, though it's certainly not as vitriolic as he'd have liked.
This time, Dabi does raise his head, his expression about as bemused as that ruined face could manage.
"Sorry, kid," he says and, fuck him, he actually does manage to sound genuinely sorry, "you're stuck with me. Unless you want Toga?"
Judging by the raised eyebrow, Dabi already knows his answer.
He's back in the chair again. They have no intention of letting him get away again. He's strapped even more securely, legs, ankles, elbows and shoulders.
Although maybe that's in part to keep him in place while Dabi does his thing.
Katsuki watches him warily. Even if Dabi's intentions are to help- and Katsuki's not entirely sure he believes that- it wasn't that long ago when he'd been burned and used as a tool to get Ponytail to stand down by the very same bastard apparently now entrusted with his care.
He's unused as it is to being any sort of hostage. For it to have been against Ponytail of all people is something Katsuki's not sure how to process.
Dabi had regarded him skeptically for a minute or two upon walking in before shaking his head with a sigh. He hadn't said anything after that. He'd simply taken a seat and cracked open the First Aid kit he'd brought with him, responding to none of Katuski's attempts to provoke him.
His shirt has been cut away to give Dabi better access to his injuries, leaving him feeling far too exposed and his flesh prickling into goosebumps.
Would it seriously kill them to invest in some heating for this place?
With his quirk being reliant on how much sweat he can produce, Katsuki has never done well in the cold.
It's a setback he's learned to work around, but not one he's managed to overcome.
Dabi straightens and turns, giving him a look at what he holds in his hands.
He'd ground his teeth and born it when Dabi had disinfected the wound in his side. The idea of Dabi stitching him up is something else entirely.
Katsuki does the best he can to press himself back. It's useless and he knows it, but damn it, if he's not going to try anyways. "You're not just going to bandage it and be done?" he demands.
Dabi seems amused. "You don't like needles?"
"I don't want your fucking hands on me!"
Two hands come to rest on either side of his throat. The touch is featherlight, but Katsuki still freezes, lifting his chin on instinct, as if that could do anything to help him get away- he remembers very clearly what had happened the last time those hands had been on him.
Shit. He hadn't even realized they were being observed.
"I'd cooperate if I were you," Shigaraki says softly. "You've already pressed your luck enough as it is."