Dabi seemed more disgruntled when he arrived home lately, especially where it concerned Hawks. He would often go on rants about how he didn't trust the winged man, how annoying he was, how much he talked. Ayumu had gleaned that he remained oblivious to how much he himself talked, though she slowly came to realize it was a tactic to help him cool down between uses of his Quirk.
Monologuing was his common tactic to change subjects or delay what he didn't want, delay answering, etc. What a stereotypical distraction for a villain to engage in. Now that she thought about it, Shigaraki was the same.
It had been about three weeks or so since she'd left the apartment, and she was feeling off. Shigaraki had seemingly disappeared and, being one of his top people, Dabi had taken over quite a bit of the work for what was now the Paranormal Liberation Front. Apparently it was a whole thing now.
The takeover of the PLF movement was something she'd had to poke and prod in order to get answers about. Many of the questions were only answered when Dabi threw a book at her.
In the semi-autobiographical book The Meta Liberation War, a man named Destro spoke on the previous discrimination of Quirk users, then called Metahumans. He was born in a time when they were the minority, and he had lost his mother because of that persecution.
Destro had been imprisoned when he wrote the book, which quickly became a symbol for those who were on the receiving end of Quirk discrimination. He'd expressed that free use of one's Quirk was a human right, that the government was wrong in trying to regulate their use. And then he'd killed himself.
The book gained a following, increasing the numbers of the movement that had lost its leader. Except that Destro had had a son, so his bloodline continued.
Re-Destro, a descendent, had taken up his mantle and headed the Meta Liberation Army, which numbered in the tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands. Anyone could be a member, hiding beside you.
He'd challenged Shigaraki and the League to fight. She'd been alone for several days as Dabi fought and then restructured the League and the Meta Liberation Army into the Paranormal Liberation Front. Something about Tomura gaining Re-Destro's respect as a fighter and leader. His Decay had wrought destruction of a scale no one person had ever created before. It was like a bomb, running through buildings and beings alike. Her mind superimposed pictures of Hiroshima and the nuclear bombs that descended from the Americans during the second world war. Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.
"How is Tomura? Have you seen him recently?"
"He's training," was Dabi's vogue reply. "Why? Do you miss him?"
Ayumu chewed her lip, hesitant to admit that, while he was a villain and worse, she was concerned about the young man. He had been injured during the fight with Re-Destro, but she was not told how badly. "Just going a little stir crazy," she said at last. "He'd usually insist I at least come out to a meeting. I miss leaving the apartment."
"Uh huh, yeah, sure." Dabi's bright eyes narrowed at her. "He has control of his Quirk now, you know. He can touch anyone he wants." His fingers drew circles on her thigh, bared as it was by her short, loose dress. "Jealous, doll?"
"No. Has Toga asked about me?" That should get him off that train of thought. While Dabi had shared her with Shigaraki, he was oddly possessive of her attention.
He snorted. "I can't even keep up with half the shit she says." Dabi tipped his head, inspecting her face. "Am I not enough company for you, doll? Are you lonely ?"
"Would you take me out if I said yes?"
For a moment she was worried she'd said something wrong; Dabi stared at her with that empty expression he wore when he was deciding whether to set something or some one on fire. Then a smirk unfurled across his lips and she released her breath.
"I'll see what I can do. Can't have my poor girl getting cabin fever." He pulled her to his side, the affection without sexuality no longer surprising. "What've you been doing when I'm out working all day?" he teased.
"Painting," she said evenly, gesturing to the canvases on the other side of the apartment.
He hummed, studying her with those keen blue eyes. "Usually you'd be at it when I get home, or you'd be bugging me for new canvases or something. You alright, doll?"
Ayumu rolled her eyes, which were red-veined and carried deeper bags than she got from dream-induced insomnia. "I'm tired."
"You been sleeping okay?" He tipped her chin toward him, stroking along her jaw. "You look kinda sick."
"Gee, thanks."
"What d'ya want for dinner, Babygirl? I'm gonna order us something." He pulled out his phone and flipped through to a delivery app. "How about soba?"
She leaned back on the sofa and shrugged. "Whatever you want is fine."
He put in the order and there was a knock on the door not twenty minutes later.
"Are you not hungry?" He had eaten nearly half of his noodles before realizing she was picking at her own. His eyes narrowed, inspecting her closely to observe that she looked a little thinner along with her haggardness.
Ayumu ate a bit as he watched, but she took no joy in the flavor, didn't even bother using the sauce for her noodles. "I've had a lot of heartburn lately," she retorted.
Dabi watched her as he finished his meal, waiting until she'd slowed to a stop before scooping up her takeout bowl and capping it with the plastic lid. He set it in the fridge and grabbed her forearm. "C'mon."
Ayumu tugged her forearm to no avail, scowling at the dark-haired man. "What?"
"We're leaving, move your ass."
She rolled her eyes. "Where are we going?"
"To burn you outside so I don't ruin the furniture— to the doctor, dumbass. Where did you think?"
That creepy Frankenstein doctor who created mindless slaves out of corpses, butchering them for parts before forming them into monster. "No, thanks." She was unprepared when her back slammed into the wall beside the door, burning-hot hand engulfing her throat. "That wasn't a request, doll. You look like shit and you ain't eating, so the doc is gonna do a little check-up and make you all better. Got it?"
He was concerned about her health? That sounded like a load of shit. Sure, he'd never starved her, though those first few days had been a little lacking. However, he'd never actually expressed interest in her wellbeing outside of ensuring he could use her when he wanted.
"I'm a little under the weather. I'll eat some soup and crack—"
The hand around her throat squeezed in warning. "I thought I made myself clear. You are mine. I want you healthy so I can use you like the little fuckdoll you are, so we are going to the doctor." Steaming breath tickled against her face. "Got it?"
She nodded and allowed him to lead her away.
"Mhm, mhm." The rotund man tapped his pen against the clipboard. "It seems congratulations are in order."
Ayumu stared blankly at the man, clad in that ridiculous, flimsy hospital gown he'd insisted she wear. While he had never said anything particularly salacious to her, she thought the man must have a medical fetish with how much he espoused the necessities of things like this. Surely she didn't need to wear the traction socks too.
She narrowed reddened eyes, tipped her head as though the change in angle might also change what she thought she'd heard. Alas; as she tried to clear her head and her ears, the doctor was shaking hands with a proud Dabi.
"I got the shot—"
"Depending on where you were in your cycle, it's entirely possible you may have gotten pregnant early on," the man reasoned, pushing back his glasses. "Nothing is one hundred percent effective if one is sexually active."
"I don't want it," she snapped at the tail of his last word.
It was Dabi's turn to speak up. "Tough cookies, doll. I do."
She spat venom back at him. "It's not even yours, what do you care?"
"Maybe, maybe not. I've been a bit more careful with my Quirk lately. Even if it's not mine biologically, it's still my kid. You're mine."
"What if it's Tomura's? Or Hawks'? I'm sure they'd have opinions." Ayumu was pissed enough that she didn't care about the doctor standing and listening. It's not like the creepy fucker didn't know that his boss had slept with her. What was one more guy to add in.
"I'm the one who let those losers touch you. I set it up, and they both know whose girl you are." He prowled closer, voice as low and heated as when he'd considered killing her. His palm laid heavily on her stomach. "And I mean all of you, doll. That includes what's growing in here."
His eyes bored into hers until the heat of them brought tears to her unblinking eyes. Her mind was snow on a television screen, abuzz with his words but empty of meaning.
"Perhaps an ultrasound would be a good idea?" Both pairs of eyes snapped toward the doctor. "It can often help women come to terms with the reality of the pregnancy."
Ayumu frowned, but Dabi nodded. "Let's do it."
She didn't want one, didn't want anything except to get rid of all of this. Her situation had been somewhat manageable before, but this… she couldn't do this. How in the hell was she supposed to be able to deal with this ? The only conclusion was that she couldn't; she needed to get out of it somehow. The simplest solution was to get the thing out of her. If she could speak to the doctor alone, then maybe— Based on the infatuation in Dabi's eyes, he wouldn't allow that. Maybe Shigaraki? He was younger, more likely to be frightened by the idea of fatherhood than Dabi.
She let them lie her down and position her legs, though she flinched when they placed her knees in the stirrups, spread them to make room for the machine. Apparently early in pregnancy they were vaginal. The lube spread on the clublike apparatus was cold.
"Let's see, let's see." She scrunched her eyes as he shifted the wand around. "Ah, there we are. And here we see— oh."
She turned toward the monitor against her better sense to see what the doctor had been surprised about.
He was typing something on the computer, labeling two masses.
"Twin A here looks healthy, somewhere around six to seven weeks, I think. And Twin B, mhm. Yes. It seems you're having twins in about thirty weeks. Twins are typically born prematurely. We will get you as close to full term as can be, but don't you worry." He winked at her. "I know a thing or two about nursing something to life."
No. No, no, no. She was dreaming; this was a nightmare. Or maybe a dream Dabi had had that was somehow transferred to her. It couldn't be reality.
Dabi's hand returned to her stomach, rubbing soothing circles over the skin. "Fuck, Babygirl. We hit the lottery, eh?" He bent to place a kiss on her cheek, her skin jumping at the gentle touch. "Don't worry about a thing. Daddy's gonna take care of everything."
Notes:
In case you're okay with slight spoiling, though this will be made explicit later...
...
Dabi totally had the doc give her fertility drugs once his sperm count was up. He's a dick.