Work Text:
Distantly, Dabi can feel the ache forming in the back of his eyes the longer he stares up at the ceiling. His body feels cold, shivers running up his spine. He doesn’t know why exactly he’s still lying like this. He knows if he got up and closed the window it wouldn’t be cold like this anymore.
He blinks and his eyes want to glue themselves shut the second he closes them. They feel frozen solid, but he opens them again. He can feel how dry they are. It makes him think about how it would feel dying in the freezing cold instead of the scorching heat.
He flips over, cold air instantly running up his back. He shivers, sucking in a breath at the feeling of the cold. When he puffs his breath out, he can see his breath due to the chill. He stares at it for a long moment. He wants to reach for it.
During the cold months, he likes to pretend he lives a different life. He stares at his breath when he breathes out due to the visibility from the cold. He likes to imagine it’s from him being actually born with an ice quirk as well. He likes to pick at the icicles on buildings and hold it in his hands, envisioning if it were to come out of them instead.
His whole body is trembling from how freezing he is, lips becoming chapped from the chill. He stares forward, pressing his shaky fingers over his face. He can barely breathe, teeth chattering as he tries to force himself to not cry thinking about the life he could’ve had if he was born perfect.
He could easily make himself warm again if he wanted to, spread a fire across the room and burn up with it. In the back of his mind he believes that even if he were to burn up again, he would still come crawling back. For some reason, no matter how many times, and no matter how many ways he tries, killing himself never works. It agitates him to his core, and that fact alone is what is apparently keeping him alive. His absolute rage; there’s no other way to put it, but deep down he wants to put that fire out, and has wanted to for a long time.
He often spends his days motionless, waiting for something to happen but that something (which, he doesn’t even know what it is), never arrives.
He forces himself to fall asleep in the cold.
He wakes up to the abrupt sound of a window slamming shut. At this, his heart annoyingly decides it’s time to begin slamming against his chest as well. He’s so alarmed that his brain is screaming at him to sit up, to do something, but he instantly finds that he simply cannot. His muscles are refusing to co-operate with his mind, and he realizes he can’t feel anything at all. He wheezes, heart sinking when he hears someone talking to him because he realizes he also can’t see a thing. He literally can’t open his eyes. He’s numb all over, he can barely breathe, he can’t move, he can’t do anything.
His chest heaving is about the only thing he can really feel due to how hard he’s suddenly breathing. His nostrils flare but they’re a clogged mess and his throat feels like it’s on fire. It’s too dry and it’s causing him to wheeze. He wants to claw at himself but he can’t seem to get his arms to move.
His breath hitches and he thinks he can feel himself jolt when he registers someone holding his face. He can feel the breath, and can also feel the panic in their motions as they check over his body. It’s a gentle touch, they’re barely moving him at all. He feels drowsy, and once it clicks who it is he gets a sudden wave of guilt all over. He thinks the shame makes his face warm. His delirious state made him forget that he was self destructing in Hawks’ apartment. Hawks’ bed, Hawks everything. He feels so panicked and ashamed that he can barely breathe, he thinks he’s gonna explode all over again.
Hawks must’ve decided it was safe enough to sit him up because he’s being slowly moved upwards. Hawks is holding his face and all Dabi can think about is how ridiculous all of this is. He feels so mixed up, his body and mind screaming all different things at him at once and yet he can do nothing but sit and dwell on it. He wants to scream, wants to fight, wants to do anything and he can’t do any of it at all. His chest is still heaving, but now Hawks is cradling his face despite how limp he is. Partially, at least now, it’s on purpose. Dabi doesn’t want help. Doesn’t want Hawks to see this, to see him. It’s pathetic. He can feel his head hanging, and Hawks holds onto the back of his neck, putting light pressure against it with one hand while he slowly drives Dabi’s neck against his shoulder.
He can feel himself shaking, still unable to breathe and chattering all over. He doesn’t know how long he’s sat against the other until he blinks his eyes open, and they hurt. The second he opens them the world doesn’t come into a full view, it’s blurry and wrong and shaky. His face feels like it’s made of wax. He closes his eyes again, too dizzy and too nauseous to keep them open for much longer.
He can feel Hawks putting simple pressure on his neck, and he just wants to cry. He blinks again a few times, and the world comes out a little less blurry but his vision shakes and he closes them again. He thinks he feels bile rise to his throat the moment they shook, and he thinks he might die if he were to throw up.
He knows Hawks’ is talking to him, or at least trying to. Moreso, he’s talking at him because Dabi can’t reply because he can’t even breathe right, along with this, can barely hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. He can hear his heartbeat, and with every pump he feels it across his veins.
He inhales sharply, coughing so roughly that he’s sure he must be bleeding from his throat. He’s heaving, unable to catch his breath and it only gets worse with the sheer panic that he feels all over. For the millionth time in his life, he’s terrified. His head is constantly swarming, yelling at him that this can’t be it, don’t let this be it (On the contrary, it likes to tell him that today needs to be his last; it’s not worth fighting anymore.)
He feels Hawks hand on his back, and it fails to ground him in the moment. He forcefully opens his eyes, and the room is still spinning. It once again nauseates him, and he’s still mortified to throw up. He begs himself silently to not. He keeps forcefully blinking, and the world spins a little less. The first thing that really comes into view is a sharp, vibrant red. It takes his brain a few seconds to catch up and recognize that they are obviously Hawks wings. They’re wrapped forward around Dabi as a heat source.
He ultimately begins sobbing, and it comes out as harsh, half-wails that don’t fully come out because every time he breathes it feels as if there’s needles pricking in his throat. He heaves, fighting himself like a wild animal to stay alive. There’s trails of snot down his nose, tears mixed with blood leaking down his face.
He’s suddenly steaming all over, and before that happened, he didn’t think he could be more panicked. He breathes in sharply, and his body is aching all over. He can feel himself burning up. He’s still chattering all over, somehow still too cold but all too hot. His brain is screaming at him to not let this happen. Please don’t let this happen, please not now, he wants to live, he needs to live, he has to, he has to -
He must’ve said some of it out loud because he’s being suddenly moved, a little too quickly at that, before Hawks corrects himself and moves him with more thought. Dabi shuts his eyes before he can get a good look at him, he doesn’t think he can bear it.
His body is on fire. His limbs are tickling with a constant, burning sensation. It’s a much unfamiliar burn than he’d usually feel. It’s the most he’s felt in a long time, and his body craves it in such an intense way, but all the same, he despises it. He doesn’t want to feel this. It’s awful, and humiliating.
He can feel Hawks holding his face just as well as he can feel his sharp gaze, even with his eyes closed. Though, he can’t fully put together what he imagines his face looks like at the moment. He doesn’t at all want to, either. He doesn’t want to imagine the rage in his face. Why wouldn’t he be angry?
He breathes easier, though it still comes in quick puffs. His limbs are aching worse now, and a new addition is that they itch all over. When he moves his arms upward, sharp pains are instantly shot through them. He snivels, arms shaking harshly. Hawks placed feathers under his arms carefully, warm hands still splayed across his face. Dabi pathetically sobs harder.
He doesn’t know how long he and Hawks sit like this. His body continues to ache all over but the pain becomes dulled after some time. With this, he refuses to open his eyes. It mortifies him. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he’s mad at himself for feeling so scared to open them. He’s been burnt to a crisp and witnessed much scarier things than this.
Mostly, he doesn’t want to face himself, or Hawks, or any of the world.
Despite this, he knows he can’t ignore it for much longer when Hawks' voice comes out, quiet compared to the previous rush in his ears. “Dabi,” he says, voice shaking, and then swallows. Dabi doesn’t open his eyes to look at him. It’s silent again for a long, drawn out moment.
When he hears Hawks sniffle, it shocks him so bad that his eyes pop open. It’s not as blurry as before, and Hawk's face comes into view rather quickly. Dabi wants to shut his eyes instantly when he gets a good look at him, though. His eyelashes are all clumped up, cheeks rosy and obvious tear stains down his face. When they meet eyes, and Hawks fucking smiles at him, Dabi crumples all over again, shamefully trying to turn his face out of his hands.
It doesn’t work, and Hawks’ begins talking. “Fuck. You scared the shit out of me,” he whispers, sniffling again. “Don’t- don’t do shit like that. You can’t do shit like that.” He says, and despite everything he doesn’t sound angry as Dabi had expected. Though, thinking about it now, Dabi can’t remember the last time Hawks had really reacted with anger at him. That in itself is making him feel sick and dizzy. He can’t figure out why he’s like this. Hawks just hugs him, pressing his head against Dabi’s shoulder.
The lump in his throat gets worse when he does this, and he croaks out: “I-I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry,” he begins to ramble, and Hawks shushes him, attempting to soothe him but Dabi plows on. “Dunno what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” He says, desperately trying to let him know. Hawks just shakes his head. They’re silent again for a while.
Hawks lifts his head, looking him over for a long moment. Dabi can’t reach his eyes. Despite the tingling under his skin, overall he just feels numb. “Stay here a second,” Hawks tells him as he gets up, his movements hesitant as he makes his way out. Dabi stares forward, swallowing hard.
He feels disconnected from the world as he stares forward, unblinking until his eyes begin to burn in his head. He stares at his lap, not looking up when he hears the door creak along with Hawks’ quick footsteps back to the bed.
The other sits down, grabbing Dabi’s face with his hands. He has loose feathers wrapped around a giant glass of water. “Drink this,” Hawks’ asks, feathers bringing it up to his mouth. “It’s warm. Should help you.” He says, still holding his face. Dabi lets the glass be pressed to his chapped lips, allowing himself to take a few gulps of it. It does help, as Hawks’ had said it would.
Dabi can tell Hawks wants to say something more by the look that's plastered on his face. He also knows that the other can’t quite find the words to say. It’s not like he blames him, because he doesn’t know what to say either. He wants to keep apologizing. He wants it to be over.
They sit in silence when Dabi’s finished with the water. Hawks has removed his hands from the other’s face, instead, pressing his head against Dabi’s shoulder. It’s quiet, but Dabi can briefly hear the tap-tap-tap sound against the window from the breeze outside. He can hear Hawks’ fan, and most notably, he hears the subtle sniffle that’s slightly muffled by the position of Hawks’ face against his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he repeats again, and it comes out as a harsh whisper. His throat is too raw.
Hawks’ shakes his head. “Don’t be, please, just…” he trails off, lifting his head from Dabi’s shoulder, and when Hawks looks at him, Dabi still doesn’t meet his eyes. He stares off elsewhere. “Fuck. Why would you do that?” He asks, and his voice shakes. It’s a strange contrast to how he sounded when they’d first been acquainted. He now knows all too well the different ways Hawks’ sounds.
Dabi, despite the obvious plea in Hawks tone, doesn’t give an answer. He shrugs, not noticeable unless you’re really looking, but Hawks eyes are sharp all over him. “Dont - Don’t do that. Please, please talk to me. Don’t do that.” Hawks begs, and Dabi’s stomach sinks. He’s begged to be listened to his whole life and now that someone is desperately listening he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He craves it and pushes it away all at once. There’s too much to say, too much Hawks’ doesn’t know, too much no one knows.
Dabi turns his face away as much as he can. Looking at him is too much. When Hawks reaches for him, he lets out a pitiful whine, attempting to push him away. It doesn’t work. Hawks’ continues to hold him, waiting for an answer. His stomach churns as the other waits.
Eventually, it all comes out at once. “I can’t do it anymore,” it’s a harsh whisper, and when he says it his voice shakes. Hawks’ somehow holds him a little tighter. “I-I can’t, I can’t, it’s too much, It’s, It’s not worth it, you don’t understand, It’s not worth it,” he babbles on, feeling sicker. “I-I don’t have any reason to live, it isn’t worth it a-anymore. I don’t- I can’t, It isn’t worth it. I’m sick of feeling like this.” He hiccups, stumbling over his words at every step. “I don’t wanna be angry b-but i’m so fucking angry, i-it’s the only thing fueling me, but I don’t want to feel it a-anymore. I should’ve died a long time ago, so, so, so long ago, Hawks. I-I have to.” he sobs, hoarse and painful. Hawks shushes him, petting his hair.
He sobs harder as Hawks’ continues to shush him, brushing back his hair. He keeps whispering how it’s okay, it’ll be okay, you’re okay, Dabi. He doesn’t believe him.
They sit like that for a while until Dabi calms down again, and he’s exhausted. He wants to go back to bed. He doesn’t know how much longer he can handle it. Luckily for him, Hawks’ somehow seems to know him through and through. He pulls back, grabbing the water from the table. “Here. Have some more of this, and we’ll get changed and you can lay down,” he says, holding the water out to him. “That’s okay, yeah?” He asks, and Dabi takes the water, merely nodding while he takes small sips.
Hawks hums, standing up and digging through his drawers for just a moment. He pulls out the two absolutely ridiculous pairs of matching pajama pants they got a while ago. It was meant to be a “joke,” or at least, that’s what they both pretended it was a lot of the time. Dabi’s are an ocean blue with some lighter polka dots surrounding them, while Hawks’ are a deep red with lighter red polka dots surrounding them. He can see him pull out two plain black shirts to go along with it, along with fresh pairs of socks.
He crawls back on the bed, shuffling Dabi carefully out of his shirt and helping him slip the new one on. He helps him with his pants, helps him put on the socks, and everything. Dabi wants to tell him he doesn’t need to help him put on clothes, because that's ridiculous, but he knows Hawks’ wouldn’t have any of it. And, although he won’t usually admit it to himself, he likes it when Hawks’ is all sweet with him.
Hawks’ changes next, and Dabi just watches silently as he moves. He questions why Hawks’ decided to stick with him like this. He can’t wrap his head around it.
Hawks’ crawls onto the bed, and this is where he begins to check over every spot on Dabi’s skin. Dabi is silent as he does it, and he wants to tell him it’s okay, there’s nothing to check. Dabi knows it’s not true. He doesn’t argue about it this time.
Hawks looks up at his face when he decides he’s done checking over his arms, moving forward and kissing his cheek a few times. Dabi flushes so bad he feels like he might explode, stomach dropping as too many emotions swirl around at once. Ridiculously, it makes him want to start bawling again. “Do you feel sick?” The other asks, and Dabi shakes his head. “Too hot?” another shake. “Too cold?” another shake. “Kay,” Hawks’ breathes out, petting back his hair again and then kissing his other cheek. Dabi crumbles all over again, tears flowing down. It hurts and his chest shakes. He loves him. He really loves him.
“It’s okay,” Hawks says again, kissing his nose. “Here, I'm gonna go get a cloth and a brush, I'll be back.” He states, standing and moving across the room to go into the bathroom.
He walks back after a moment, scooching towards Dabi and wiping off his tear stained face with a warm rag. He wipes gently, pushing back his bangs to wipe across his forehead incase he was feeling sweaty as well. He did this often, because Dabi often had days where he wouldn’t get up and would feel disgusting; so Hawks’ would sit him up and tell him it’s all okay while wiping around his face so he felt a little less dirty.
The other wiped behind his ears and wiped around his neck, setting it down on the table so he could start brushing his hair. He moves behind him and starts brushing in silence. He stops for a moment to grab the remote, letting a feather plop it into Dabi’s lap. “Here, you can turn something on,” he says, and then begins brushing again. Dabi fiddles with the remote for a while before he actually turns anything on at all.
Hawks’ uses his feathers to turn off the light in the room. Dabi hadn’t really noticed how much time had passed until he did this. It was quite dim outside. Hawks’ has Dabi shuffle down, running his hands through his hair as he settles himself against his lap. He feels exhausted. He doesn’t really want to sleep because he wants to keep feeling Hawks’ hands in his hair. He stays awake for a little longer just to feel it, but eventually he’s so tired that he knows he won’t be awake for much longer.
Hawks’ shuffles down, moving them both under the covers. Dabi’s head is pressed against Hawks’ chest and the other continues to run his hands through his hair, stopping only to kiss his head a few times. He lets himself fall asleep.