For fifteen minutes, Dabi watched the broken, unconscious form of Geten breathe, every inhalation causing a shudder to ripple through her body. Every time she made a hacking cough, blood spurted from her mouth, making his fists clench tighter and his teeth grind against one another with building rage. Ten minutes in, he had reduced Takame's corpse to ashes to vent the inferno inside him.

That was all he could do. He couldn't move her because of all the broken bones and fractures. The one thing he could was to shift her head an inch, to ensure she didn't choke on her blood.

All he could do was wait. The throbbing pain in his arms from blocking that hit was nothing compared to the pain in his chest at seeing her on the verge of death, enduring a merciless pummel that she didn't deserve.

He felt like every breath he took injected him with even more fury that he wanted to scream, to let the world know he wanted to burn it all.

Stupid girl. Why can't you see that you never belonged to the MLA? Why are you getting yourself killed for them?

Geten shuddered as she coughed out more blood that stained the rusty containers' surface. Dabi tore his eyes away. You could have stopped Takame before he went after her. You're weak.

Wasn't my fault I got sent on this damn assignment, he argued on instinct.

Yet his conviction disappeared upon seeing Geten's state. He ignited his arm, feeling the fiery torture wrack his already fractured limb. It didn't expunge the guilt, but he liked to think that it could, somehow.

Did Shigaraki know, sending two people whose quirks don't work well against him?

He was confronting Shigaraki when they got back, that was for sure. But for now, his concern was her.

Is her breathing slowing? Shit.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling helpless, so utterly helpless. C'mon, girl, don't die on me. Please.

When he opened them, he saw two figures rushing towards them. He recognised one of them as the soldier who had welcomed them at the airport.

"Help her first, I'm good." He said as he extinguished his punishment. The two of them nodded. One of them stepped forward to lay a hand on Geten.

Dabi slapped it away with a glare. "Are you an idiot? She's in no state to be carried."

The soldier gave a patient smile. "I'm not moving her. My special ability can teleport people to a nearby location I'm familiar with by being in physical contact. We're bringing the both of you back to the airport where Compress will take you back to Deika."

"Ah," Dabi said, leaning back, "My bad."

In the next few seconds, Dabi felt a light tugging sensation, definitely smoother than the gunky horridness that was the Doctor's method. The next moment, he found himself back at the airport on solid ground, with the other three in the same position.

"Keep her spine in line," Dabi ordered, and the two obeyed, gingerly holding Geten in place. "How long till Compress gets here?"

"ETA ten minutes," The teleporter announced. Dabi swallowed – If he doesn't get here on time...

Dabi was sweating despite the quiet and cool night; the serenity of this scene was destroyed by the haggard breaths Geten was drawing. He kept looking at the sky, trying to spot a black dot in the darkness. When a seeming eternity had passed feeling more anxious by the minute, he saw it, illuminated by red lights.

He heard the whirring sounds of the chopper as it closed in and landed. Dabi spotted the familiar orange-brown coat and the black hat of Atsuhiro Sako, and a painful smile of relief tugged at his lip.

One thing Dabi liked about Compress was that despite his showman persona, he didn't mince words, or speak when there was no need to. Sako raced out of the aircraft, compressed Geten and pocketed her.

"You need me to do you, too?" Sako asked him.

Dabi shook his head. "Let's go. Thanks, you two." He acknowledged the soldiers, who bowed in return and left. The two Lieutenants climbed into the helicopter and the pilot lifted off.

"No headsets? I'm not going deaf here," Dabi shouted over the whirring.

"Chill, the pilot has a noise-cancelling quirk. He'll activate it soon." As Compress said this, the ruckus disappeared, as if they were back on the jet. Another pang of hurt poked at Dabi, thinking about his nonchalance at the start of the mission.

"You look like hell." Compress noted Dabi's arms and the dust and grime on his coat.

"Yeah. Assignment was harder than we thought."

"I presumed much. Who was it?"

"One of the advisors in my regiment, and his daughter."

Dabi heard the surprise in Sako's tone. "Oh, Skeptic's gonna go mental. Not that he already isn't."

That got a chuckle out of Dabi, but it died as he thought about the damage Takame had done.

"But you guys finished the mission, right?" Compress asked.

Looking out the window at the night sky, he muttered, "Yeah."

"You didn't throw her under the bus, did you?"

Dabi's head flicked back to face Compress. "What the hell, no! Why would I?"

The performer raised his arms to placate his anger. "Sorry, last time you talked about her, you were ready to kill her or whatever's in your head. You mean to say that you guys are on good terms now?"

Dabi sighed. "I just don't hate her. And I have no reason to let her die. Shigaraki wouldn't be happy." He added as an afterthought.

Compress gave a tiny sigh. "Well, I'm sure you have a thrilling story of how you two managed to get to this state."

"We definitely do," Dabi said dryly.

"Tell us all about it tomorrow. Go get some sleep tonight. The doctor has a cell activation quirk, he'll fix you up first, then her."

"No, get her first. I'll wait."

"Fine," Compress relented after seeing the adamant expression on Dabi's face. "You're really...concerned for her. It's weird."

Dabi replied with a yawn.

––––––

The doctor flipped through his clipboard. "Multiple fractures on her arms, five broken ribs, dislocated jaw and a skull fracture."

"But you fixed all of it...right?" There was an undertone of a "You better have." that the doctor understood, given the reassuring smile he wore at Dabi's question. He was getting sick of people trying to calm him down with smiles, like that would help.

"I used my ability as best as I could, and it fixed most of it, but I only sped up the recovery of the cell reparations. We'll be providing iron and calcium supplements to help her along, but she'll be bedridden for the next few days."

"Any permanent damage?"

"As long as she gets enough rest and doesn't exert herself, she'll be fine and back to normal in a few weeks."

Dabi exhaled. "Alright. Thanks doc."

Dr Shimano nodded and left the room. Dabi looked at Geten, whose chest rose and fell at a stable pace as she slept, no longer shaking, a significant improvement from just an hour ago.

"Sorry Geten," He said. "I fucked up."

As the words left his mouth, he took a second to realise what he had just said. He blinked. When did I start caring so much?

The air-conditioned room and the leather chair he was seated on let the remaining surges of adrenaline fade out, to be replaced by an ice-cold fist of realisation – The events that had transpired in the last couple of hours punched him in the face.

He had not left her side once the entire time.

You're really...concerned for her.

He got out of his seat, staggering upon registering Mr Compress' words from earlier with clarity, similar to receiving a fiery touch on his skin. What the hell?

He glanced back at Geten sleeping, then he left the room with extended paces. I should get back to my room. Yeah, that's a good idea. He pushed all thoughts of the girl out of his mind, focusing on the inevitable debrief from him the next council meeting, since she couldn't –

He swore under his breath. Stop thinking about her. These thoughts, feelings, whatever they were. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was unnatural. Foreign. Probably dangerous.

––––––––

The next morning's meeting convened, in the absence of Lieutenant Apocrypha, with Dabi's debrief of the mission.

"Alright, Dabi, care to explain what happened?" Shigaraki drummed his fingers on the table.

Dabi stood up, wearing his trademark lazy expression, though he was actually fatigued. "So our target turned out to be a Mihara Takame, daughter of Shingu Takame, who was an advisor to Violet Regiment."

He noted the widened eyes of the old MLA executives. Hanabata's gaze flickered between the desk and him. And was that a bead of sweat rolling down Skeptic's forehead? It might have been his imagination.

"What?" Re-destro gaped, then turned to Shigaraki. "Grand Commander, I apologise deeply for this treachery. I had no idea —"

Shigaraki waved his hand. "Never mind about that first. Continue."

"We got into a fight, which turned out bad for Apocrypha, who took most of the damage, but I managed to finish the assignment."

"Yeah, that's the part I wanna know." Shigaraki leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "Why did you guys end up taking the beating you did?"

"Takame's quirk was a shitty matchup against mine and hers. He just wouldn't feel any pain. Impossible to incapacitate him."

"And Apocrypha's ice did nothing?"

"No, it didn't hinder him much."

"Then how did you kill both of them?"

"I took out the woman first." Dabi mimed twisting a neck. "For her old man, I concentrated my flames onto his head. Carbonized it. He probably died from brain failure or something."

"Ah, copying Endeavour now, eh?" A small grin made Dabi bristle, though he concealed it.

He shrugged. "What can I say? He's got decent moves to copy, and I have the firepower to match his. Speaking of which, you might want to send a team to dispose of the body. I didn't burn up the girl, only Takame."

Shigaraki frowned. "Why don't you do it?"

"Excuse me?" The coldness in the room spiked as the two stared at each other with venom.

"I don't know why you could cremate the larger-sized adult male but not the small girl. Go fix your mess."

"You're really going to send me all the way back just to burn one more corpse?"

"Yep." Shigaraki's eyes were still fixated on him, as though daring him to act out. What do you want? Something about the way his leader questioned him was off. Hell, he was never so interested in these small problems that cropped up. Dabi had talked to Twice before the meeting. According to him, a small riot broke out in the town centre over Shigaraki's leadership, and the latter didn't seem to care.

Did you send the hit squad on us? Dabi's eyes swept the room. Hanabata and Skeptic's faces were whiter than normal, but that was because Takame was on their list that Apocrypha freaked out so much about, right?

Dabi was about to argue further, but decided against it. He needed answers, and he doubted anyone in the room would offer anything worthwhile. Maybe going back would be helpful.

He spun around and walked towards the door. "Fine. I'll get to it now. Prep the jet, Skeptic."

Without waiting for an answer, or for Shigaraki to stop him, he left the room, slamming the door behind him with a growl. He had to admit, though, that the solitude and this menial task given to him allowed him time to think about everything that had happened last night, and he kept coming back to the one name.

Mesa.

That was all he got from the thug. A name that he couldn't even be sure was real. Dabi was somewhat confident it was a legitimate answer: the thug was terrified of dying, especially after Dabi used his partner as a demonstration.

When one was about to die, truths became more apparent. They stopped lying and told the truth, whether one was on their deathbed or backed up against an alley.

Sensei had done the same thing.

Dabi frowned, and quickened his pace. Which reminded him...that factory, it looks similar to the one that night. Guess I'll look around there too.

He emerged from the underground tunnel to the airport, a convenient distance from the mansion. And his face blanched. Why the fuck is she here?

Geten was talking with the pilot, her posture bent, and Dabi didn't need a doctor to tell him she was still injured.

He marched up to her and waved off the pilot. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going back." She said, her face tight with pain. Or defiance. One worried him, the other annoyed.

"No, you're not. You're still fucked up, you're going back to the hospital." He pointed away from the helicopter beside both of them, which reminded him of a parent sending a kid to their room.

And just like the kid, she was acting like a brat. "I need to go back. Please. How did you even know I was here?"

"I didn't."

"So you're going back to Tokugawa?"

Dabi bit back a retort. "No," he tried.

Her eyes narrowed. "If you're going, I'm going."

Dabi envied Sako for the issues he could solve with his quirk with one tap. He stretched his sigh out. "Alright. Fine. One condition."

"What?"

"Go take a shower and change out of this. You look and smell like shit."

Geten seemed to be in no mood to shoot a returning insult. She nodded.

The two took a helicopter ride, which Dabi figured was Skeptic's way of flipping him off — he was in the mood for another private jet ride, at least up till Geten showed up.

Along the way, Dabi explained what had happened while she was unconscious or hospitalised. She nodded, rather numbly, to everything. He felt like pressing her on why wanted to come along, but she looked to be in such a somber mood Dabi kept quiet once he was done.

"Thank you," Geten said, which caught Dabi off-guard.

He stared at her. "Huh?"

But she lapsed back into silence.

Takame's words really affected her, huh? He got the gist of it: Takame was pissed off. Dabi was too focused on finishing the job, the concussion dulled his senses, even as he crept up to the both of them. He didn't hear everything Takame said, but enough of it.

He still had no idea what she was doing here. Guess he would find out.

They touched down a while later, took another motorbike ride – also in silence, to the factory. When they got off, there was a rush in her step, as though in anxiety, to reach the site of their Pyrrhic victory. Although, Dabi managed to keep pace with her.

Mihara's body was still there, and the imprint of Shingu was visible on the stone ground. Geten took out some ice from her pocket and used them to shut her wide eyes, then adjust her broken neck. She looked like she was sleeping.

Next, she fashioned her ice into a platform which carried the young woman. Dabi quietly watched all this unfold, not wanting to interrupt whatever she was doing.

Then Geten walked towards the nearby forest. Taking out more ice, she formed a wide, curved object, which she used to shovel dirt.

Oh, so that's what she's doing.

As if in a trance, he picked up some sticks off the ground, lit the tip of them and passed three to Geten, who had laid Mihara's body in the grave and filled it with dirt.

She looked at the makeshift joss sticks, then at him, and gave a quivering smile. She knelt down to place them on top of the grave.

As she tried to stand up, she stumbled a bit with a wince of pain. Dabi grabbed her shoulders to steady her. "Hey. Don't stress yourself."

Her footing is off, he noted that, as well as her constant flinching. Her ribs were probably still hurting.

He sighed and muttered, "You – You can lean on me. Just don't tell anyone I said that."

"I'm fine," She said with less believability than a hero's promise. But she did, after a pause, rest her head on his shoulder, as the two stared at the blue flame that slowly died, its bright azure radiance leaving small spots in their eyes.

"Why's it seem like you trust me all of a sudden?" Dabi had to ask.

After a moment of silence, Geten mumbled, "I think...I think I just do. You're not the worst."

That's a first.

"So why'd you bury her?"

"Because…" She looked at her hands. "They didn't deserve it. It's weird, isn't it? I got beat up so much by them, but I'm still respecting her."

"No, it's not weird. It means…" Dabi considered his next few words. "It means your heart isn't cold."