Out of Body by Gorillaz: watch?v=gawKAeTayNY

Rape/Non-Con warning

So it's been a while, sorry 'bout that, had to keep all of my grades high as they could be (except for Math, haha I'm cool with failing) and I had to take care of some of my friends and family. So, now along with this chapter I'll be posting 2 others on Tuesday and Wednesday to make up for the weeks that I missed. I also got the end of the story planned out, it's going to be intense!

Chapters until you and Dabi hook up: 10

At the mere sound of your gritty voice, Jin and Dabi immediately locked eyes with your droopy eyelids, buzzing pinpricks sadistically roaring towards countless parts of your body, your retinas having a well-timed game of peek-a-boo with blurriness fogging your lens.

"Shit, nearly scared me half to death there," the black haired man muttered with a click of his tongue, patting the ratty bristles of the carpet beside him absentmindedly until his fingertips latched onto the first aid kit, unlatching its contents and letting out a low whistle.

"Looks like we're lucky this freak hit jackpot, it's a trauma kit," he rummaged through the unorganized clear tubes denoting themselves as urethral catheters, multiple sponge-like prep pads and packets reeking of a distinct alcoholic hospital smell before finding a rubbery buckled item. Bubaigawara sat as patiently as a two year-old preschooler high on crystal meth would, quite literally twiddling his thumbs and fidgeting all the while the suspense was killing him, emotively reacting to each and every item the patchwork fiend had graciously sifted through.

Practiced feats of a polished manner were transpiring with each and every adjustment the goth had allocated to the medical instrument before he lifted it to a dimly lit ceiling light, the other man's covered facial features exaggeratingly twisting and turning with each gear in his head clicking into place, finally absolving the mulberry scarred man's actions with a low oh. Adeptly wrapping the tourniquet above your shoulder joint, he watched your face for any signs of anguish as he tightened the windlass as if he were wrapping a secure wire around mounds of dense clay, grimacing subtly to your increased tremors and the various salty drops of sweat dripping down your figure more than before his helping hands.

At some point the latex buckled tool was wound around enough times to which you started letting numerous cries of pain escape your shivering windpipes, a sharp edged intake of breath stabbed your already withering resolve and you screamed, "FUCK! Why do-agh! Does... that hurt so damn much?"

Shushing you for a brief moment, his stapled hands persevered in the smarting spasms he evoked in his actions, going around with the black tourniquet once more and granting him another instinctive feral noise from you, hissing slipping from the gaps of his teeth in an empathetic display.

"Alright, now that that's done..." was uttered in a seemingly robotic manner as if stopping life-threatening bleeding was an everyday occurrence of the sort, securing the windlass with another pinch and a throb above your shoulder joint, taking a white sticky note left in the kit and marking it after a glance of an oven's ultramarine digits denoting the time. Thanks to his quick thinking and reaction time, your arm that had effortlessly taken the bullet and decorated its flesh-colored home inside your shoulder had been pressed until it was white, a grisly gradient of blanc darkening to the usual skin tone it normally harbored and the sickly scent of ichor lessened as it was pressured enough to be clotted substantially.

"How are you so levelheaded doing that? Wow, what a pussy," the dual-personality owner asked in a somber tone, as if he had already had the foresight to look into the scarred man's past that revealed all that he had lived through.

His occupied and calm countenance faltered at his line of questioning, cyan blue irises beginning to spin into an unstoppable wheel of the sky until his still figure's consciousness fell into a spiral that he had become all too familiar with, sizzling echoing in the openings of his ear canals whispering of times he wished he could forget and then he wasn't bound on his knees to the carpet in the apartment. Touya was drifting as far as the human eye could reach, an invisible pull plunging him into a kaleidoscopic dimension that was patched and bound by sewing needles going through the motions with red thread, a basic color that seemed to haunt him for all of his life.

A feeble attempt to turn his head back to take a gander at the opening he had fallen from greeted him with a circular hole steeled with flesh-pink muscle strands holding its visibly throbbing opening, an entrance wound he had touched on your body and not some sort of hallucination that held his being in its cold, dead hands. He would have called it a prison if its embrace wasn't regrettably comforting in the process of displaying a sadistic slideshow of horror in the family in which he belonged to long ago, murmurs of Todoroki acting as if they were as magnificent as cooing doves christening a holy matrimony in all their splendor.

That's the thing, being out of body was paradoxical as it was by itself in concept, comfort and repulsion laid waste to the interdimensional construct created by defective neural pathways strung along in his hippocampus and amygdala, direct clashing contrasts defining most of his dead livelihood and his present self. Had he grown the urge to snag a peek at some wayward locks drifting towards his previously black eyebrows, he would have gagged at the noxious maroon color they presented in their wretched glory. Endeavor had raised him so well, that at any question at his abnormal rationality towards something that would even panic the experienced if but for a moment, would irrefutably send him back to this broken record of a psyche on repeat.

It's hilarious, even, to realize that most of his childhood memories both horrid and heartwarming were barely there in his cracked think-tank of a noggin, steam emanating from a nozzle in his floating reverie had begun to cling onto his skin like lice, that his composure of his metaphorical being in his own damn mind was just a hair's length away from being thrown into a boiling pot and in danger of being shielded like most of his past like an eclipse. Disassociation reared its nonexistent corporeal body and gifted him with the enraged frame of a bulky red-haired man clenching his fists over a trembling and terrified woman, her snow-white hair frazzled beyond belief as if goosebumps had begun spreading onto her scalp as well.

"Oh," is all he could muster in a laughable imitation of Jin's earlier statement, his mottled purple skin being a thing of the future and what replaced the revolting display was pristine peach, as he dumbly recognized the two people as his birth mother and father. It was as if the events were as clear as day and not muddled by any traumatic defense mechanisms his mind had set in place to numb his composure to his neutrally set gait, and the intensity of emotional clarity was even more overwhelming, shivers running down his spine coated with an intoxicant courtesy of the misery he was experiencing.

While the visual aspect of the past being brought back to life and screened in front of him was undoubtedly opaque, cotton was in his ears and he felt like a kid again, covering his ears so tightly without the use of his tense hands, effectively muffling the sounds he refused to hear. It wasn't until he was brutally shoulder-checked aside by his own father had he snapped out of his haze, vision settling on the angry handprint making itself home onto Rei's cheek, her audible sobbing in the background with his younger brother's shrieks and whimpers. It was the last time he had laid a single finger on her face, for she was wrongfully imprisoned in a ward to be "nurtured" into society and isolated from her own flesh and blood, the children she had made.

A swig of a glass bottle and a gulp later, he was transported into daddy dearest's firm grip and the repulsive scent of fermented starch lingered from the other's breath, heartbeat skyrocketing along with his breathing pattern, acting like a rabbit forced into a corner by none other than the big bad wolf. Thrown onto his father's bed, he wished he hadn't remembered and that it was all just a gigantic whopping lie, just a false memory that had nothing to do with whatever he had endured in his past. He'd be lying to himself, plain and simple.

Now the disgusting miasma of alcohol was exhaled unceremoniously onto his younger face, Dabi was a figment of what else would come to be of him, Touya Todoroki wasn't killed yet and he was being molested by his own kin, his supposed father.

"So cold and fragile, Rei," he whispered softly and caressed his shaking cheek, his wide hand coming to rest under his chin and forcing him to daintily point his neck in submission, laying his neck bare. "I could never be angry at you for so long," a chuckle resounded and he pressed his forehead against his and stared almost kindly if he wasn't currently committing pedophilia, incest, and an amount of other fucked up crimes.

Him, Endeavor, committing a crime? What utter nonsense and unruly blasphemy, senseless media hounds and foolish lambs know not the scope he graciously protects them from. Armed marauders, arson, assaults, terrorism, the works. Enji Todoroki is nothing but a hero, nothing more, nothing less.

He wished that he'd forgotten and it was nothing but a delusional fantasy brought upon by his abusive upbringing, yet the too-real sound of rustling clothes and unbearable warmth being bestowed onto his lower regions were no figment of his imagination. Enji and Endeavor's personas combined in his drunken stupor and created the monstrosity of a human being that spread his legs, it wasn't his fault, he reassured himself. How long, however, did his family look past all of the fire and brimstone that created scars on his body and his younger brother Shoto? How long had they merely turned their heads when their father decided to beat them into the ground as a punishment? No difference was made this accursed night, the night in which his innocence was laid bare and completely slaughtered and mauled ravenously, traumatizing him for years to come.

Touya remembered when his father pressed him into the mattress and for the very first time, he had felt how it meant to be used and branded from the inside and out by his hands, as a Todoroki he knew he purposefully allowed his face to scrunch into a wretched pucker in response to the pain, but he kept quiet. Just like his mother had taught him to, like his sister and his brother, in the Todoroki household there was an unspoken rule that was never to be broken, lest you bow to the unthinkable consequences. Todoroki Touya snapped out of his stupor once the bastard started moaning, there was no doubt about it, the man was not only consciously raping him but inconsolably going through with it. Cyan flames burst into ignition with white accenting their ardor and efforts, a hypnotic-like banshee cry resounded in the kickback and the towering figure had been unsympathetically kicked away from the smaller.

That was the day Touya Todoroki succumbed to the fire and a new life was born in his death, he was never good at keeping quiet anyways. He had the scars to prove it.

"TOUYA!"

Water splashed refreshingly onto his sizzling face, the culprit being your hand weakly holding a cup of water left discarded on the ground, disassociation spell being broken by being called something he was just a moment ago, no, a long time ago. He looked past your injuries and away from the context of the situation and realized that he was the one who had been injured. Something he once thought irreparable, made clearer by the cooling splatter of water that sank into his remaining pores, he wasn't okay. Having to resort to cocaine wasn't a simple pick-me-up that allowed him to relax and it wasn't something that he did purely for symptomatic reasons. Dabi did it because he never wanted to deal with having become who he was because of Touya.

You dragged yourself over to Dabi, even when there was still an IV tube sticking out of one of your veins, thanks to Jin helping you find your skittish tree branches in your wrists. Even when there was a hypertonic saline solution making sure you wouldn't further go into hypovolemic shock, you mustered the strength to move to the obviously unwell man's side and softly rest your hand onto his head. You brushed your hands into his scalp without any further thought put into the actions, aiming to relax his figure even the slightest empathetically.

"It's okay to not be okay. Sounds cheesy as all hell, but that's the truth to it." He caught your eyes and leaned into your touch as if he was a little kid, despite his outward appearance of a punk man who didn't give a single fuck about anything.

"You can't keep running away from yourself forever, Touya. It's fine if you want to be called Dabi because of everything you've lived through, but you can't keep quiet." If he still had tear ducts, perhaps a drop or two would have threatened to escape by now, but alas, he had to make do with his strangled expression.

"Let it out," and faint gasps of depression bubbled out of the broken man's throat before rising in frequency and loudness, sobs now wracking his anguished face and stressing his already pulled taut skin, you held him in a gentle hug and sat with him.

Bubaigawara seemed conflicted as always in interrupting the two of you, but he still went forward with his decision to speak, "It's been ten minutes already," he made a motion towards your fastened tourniquet. "You can take it off, I'll bandage it for you," no duplicitous voice following any of his statements with his stony face.

Jin then grabbed the nearest blankets and pillows, essentially creating a blanket fort for the three of you and stirring oatmeal in a pot of sweet cinnamon and vanilla, serving everyone in preparation for spending the night with people he'd now call his friends. He placed himself at the other man's opposite side and wrapped his arms around him as well.

"You looked like you needed it, friend."