Chapter Text
Dabi doesn’t remember the last time someone called him by his birth name.
At some point during his miserable life, a very long time ago, he thinks he might have liked it. Touya has a nice sound to it, after all, and, perhaps more importantly, it isn’t Todoroki.
His mother used to whisper it into his ear after yet another training session with his father, he remembers with bitter fondness, while she was tending to his injuries and he likes to believe she was saying it with love, then, her quiet, broken voice repeating it over and over again until her throat went hoarse. He would raise his hand to her face, sometimes, if he felt daring enough, and wipe any tears she might have involuntarily let spill, telling her in shushed whispers that is wasn’t her fault. She never believed him, of course, but she would smile nevertheless and ruffle his hair, saying into his hair what a brave boy he was and how proud she was of him. He also didn’t believe her, but they took comfort in lying to each other about these things, pretending everything was fine at least for a moment.
It was also what his little siblings used to call him, on a rare occasion they were allowed to interact with him, more often than not while also in tears, clinging to him and sobbing into his shirt after their father yelled at them or pushed them around once again. If he thinks about that, he associates the name with helplessness, with a blind rage burning in his chest as he desperately wished he could do anything at all to ease his siblings’ pain when they called him, the name falling from their mouths as a desperate scream for help.
When he thinks about his father – oh, his father - the name is poisoned, always snarled at him with fury or disappointment or, more often than not, both, after he inevitably messed up another move or didn’t dodge a blast quick enough. He hated it when his father used his name. The man had no right, not when he never cared about Dabi – about Touya – at all. This name was a gift from his mother, one of the only things her husband has ever allowed her to give to her children, and the least he could do was to leave it alone.
But - it’s been years since he has last seen his family, at least as anything more than a quick glance on the street, on TV or, well, while being attacked, but Dabi doesn’t like thinking about it. The thing is, no one else calls him Touya, no one else even knows that name (even Hawks, but hey, it’s not like he revealed his tragic past to Dabi, did he?) and this is because, for all purposes, Touya is dead. As far as he’s concerned, there is nothing left of the kind, stubborn, soft-hearted boy he used to be, the boy who burned to ashes the night he finally snapped and left, skin melting off his face and tears blending in with blood.
The point is, he doesn’t remember the last time someone called him Touya.
So why is he hearing it now?
“Touya, get up! Breakfast is done!” A loud voice gets through the sleepy daze he’s still in, bringing him back to Earth.
The voice is female, or at least that’s what he assumes, and weirdly… familiar? It’s not Toga, that’s for sure and… Well, there isn’t a lot of women in his life right now, if he’s being honest. So why does he know this voice?
Wait.. is that Fuyumi? But, no, that’s ridiculous. He hasn’t seen his sister in years. It isn’t possible. And how would she find him anyway? He must still be dreaming.
He slowly opens his eyes, blinks and immediately cringes, bringing a hand to his eyes as an unexpected brightness hits them painfully. This is not the abandoned warehouse he happens to live in nowadays, that much is sure. Nor is it Hawks’ apartment – not only his boyfriend isn’t anywhere to be seen, but there is also a striking lack of their usual blanket nest, something Hawks apparently can’t fall asleep without. So this isn’t any of the places he would have expected to wake up in – great.
Don’t panic. You’re alive, that has to count for something, right? Not much, but something. And, if he thinks about it, the ceiling of this room seems weirdly familiar.
In fact, his brain realizes as he lets his gaze wander around, the entire bedroom looks awfully familiar too. The gray blanket he’s tangled in, the fiery red curtains over the windows, the posters of All Might sticked a little wobbly to the blue walls… But it can’t be.
It can’t be and yet he is sure this is his childhood bedroom.
There is a moment when he goes completely still, not even breathing as he takes it all in, trying to convince himself this is some sick joke or maybe a drug-induced hallucination. He doesn’t remember taking any shit recently, couldn’t even if he wanted, since he’s pretty much broke and, even as a villain, he won’t stoop so low as to steal fucking cocaine, no matter how much he likes it. But who knows. He’s been kind of fucked up recently, it wouldn’t really be that much of a stretch.
Honestly, he will take any rational explanation, even a humiliating one.
And that’s when the panic finally comes, like a gigantic wave, hitting him hard, almost suffocating. What is he doing here? Was he caught? Do they know? How? It that makes no sense, none of that makes any fucking sense. He can’t remember getting caught, hell, he hasn’t seen daddy dearest since the High End fight! And, if he really was caught, then why would he be at his family house anyway and not, you know, in jail? Like a criminal should?
His breath quickens and he grips the blanket tighter, eyes darting from one too familiar thing to another. A dread in his gut makes him sick, the sight of this place makes him even sicker and the thought of his father getting one over him yet again nearly makes him puke.
What other explanation there is though? Of course Endeavor wouldn’t turn him in if he realized who Dabi really is, oh no, it would ruin his precious reputation. Number One Hero can’t have a villain son, now can he? So of course he would do some shit like that. Why is he even surprised? Endeavor always thought he’s the smartest person alive – of course he would try and keep this under wraps for as long as possible.
Well, Dabi is certainly not sticking around. No matter how much hearing Fuyumi’s voice after so many years makes his heart squeeze, he isn’t going to jail over it.
He jumps out of bed, nearly falling on his face in a hurry to get the hell out of this damned house. No way he will not spend the rest of his life locked inside his old bedroom like some naughty teenager. Dabi is a dangerous criminal, a murderer, a second-in-comand of the freaking League of Villains – and they think he will let them tame him so easily?
He’s already on his way to the window – unlocked, with no bars in it, it’s like they didn’t even try - when something catches him off guard. His clothes. These are certainly not his. Did they really bother enough to put him into some ridiculous hero pajamas? What the fuck? Is this part of his punishment? All Might’s cartoonish face taunting him from the middle of his chest? Well, to be fair, it is terrifying. He will give them that. And the little heads on the pants – yeah, he’s not thinking about it.
Or maybe… But no, surely not? Did they really think he would play along with their happy family farce? Oh yeah, he has heard about Endeavor’s oh-so-wonderful change of heart after the whole High End thing, but come on. It was obviously a pile of bullshit. People like dear old Enji don’t change and they surely don’t deserve any second chances, not after literally almost murdering one of their sons, abusing the rest of their children and making their wife lose her mind. His poor naïve siblings may believe whatever they want, but Dabi has scars to remind him every single day what kind of man his father truly is and no amount of apologies are ever going to change that.
Only… he doesn’t. It takes him a while to notice and for a moment he thinks he must have gone crazy, because his skin is completely smooth and healthy, no trace of the barely healed burns he is used to seeing. Just few faded marks here and there. No purple dead skin, no staples, nothing. His eyes must be popping out of his head, but he can’t stop staring. His breath quickens, as does his heartbeat, blood humming loudly in his ears.
What. The. Fuck.
In a second he’s standing in front of the large mirror, gripping the edges tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white. What he sees there makes his blood freeze.
It’s not him. It’s not him, only it is, isn’t it? It’s a very old version of him, from before his life got so irreparably ruined, from before everything went to hell.
He moves one hand and watches in a horrified silence as the person in the mirror does the same. He slowly touches his face, his soft, unmarred face, and feels that there really is nothing there. His eyes are still this bright blue color that isn’t quite turquoise but isn’t your regular blue either. (He used to hate them, because of how they made him look even more like his father, but eventually learned to like, both because of how they remind him of his fire and because Hawks loves telling him how beautiful they are). His hair though, his hair isn’t black and that’s probably why it’s so hard to associate the young boy in front of him with, well, himself.
He can’t be older than fifteen, maybe even younger. His limbs are too long for the rest of his body and yet still, compared to his normal ones, somehow too short. He’s still far too skinny but not as tall as he should be and, oh yes, he is a redhead. Fuck.
This is not Dabi staring back at him in shock. This is Touya and that fact is enough to almost make him faint.
“Touya? Are you okay? Come on, it will get cold,” Fuyumi shouts suddenly, banging loudly at his door, as if she thinks he’s barely asleep instead of low-key having a panic attack.
He flinches, turning towards the door with wide eyes and racing heart. This can’t really be Fuyumi, right? This can’t be real, none of it, he’s surely still dreaming, it’s just another nightmare, god knows he gets enough of those. This can’t be real, because if it is, then he doesn’t know what he will do.
“Touya?”
“I’m fine,” he croaks weakly, knowing she will come in if he doesn’t answer and very much not wanting her to. Only he’s definitely not fine and she surely must hear it, since his voice sounds chocked up even to him.
“Well, hurry up then, I made eggs, your favorite,” she answers after a moment and she’s clearly concerned, but fortunately leaves him be, her footsteps slowly fading as she walks away.
Okay. So this is happening.
Fuck.
How did it happen? How is he a kid again? Was that someone’s quirk? He had no idea there even were time travel quirks! Or maybe it’s some kind of de-ageing? He can’t remember much from before he woke up here, but there are flashes of a fight somewhere in the back of his mind. Not with a hero, this time, but with one of the recruits he was trying to get for the League. Normally disposing of them was easy, after all, by then he has his quirk almost perfected, no longer risking burning himself while using it, but something must have went wrong this time, maybe one of them catching him off guard. He can’t remember, but it’s the only explanation.
The question is if this is permanent or not.
God, he hopes not. He already hates everything about this situation. Being a fucking hormonal teenager again is the last thing he needs in his already pretty messed up life.
Idly, he wonders if by some chance there might be some black hair dye somewhere in the house. It’s unlikely, his father would never allow anything as ‘rebellious’ as that, but a guy can dream. The red is simply disgusting.
Maybe he can fake a quirk accident and make himself bald? Even that would be better than having his hair again.
Oh right, he almost forgot. Speaking of that. His quirk.
Would it still work as well as it has been for the last few years, after he has finally learned to control it properly? Or is he back at square one? At fifteen he was, well, embarrassingly bad. It wasn’t his fault, mind you, he really wanted to stop burning himself all the time and he tried as hard as Endeavor expected him to, but the stress, his weak body and some kind of spite all held him back. He can admit now that in a weird way he enjoyed frustrating his father with his poor performance, enjoyed destroying the old man’s plans for Dabi’s future as a perfect hero - although he did not enjoy the scars it got him- and this enjoyment made his control even poorer.
After he was forced to leave, though, and then survive on the streets, with no doctor available and no one to protect him from various creeps but himself, well, he had no choice but to master his power as quickly as possible.
Experimentally, he approaches one of the All Might posters he has on his boring light blue walls
(He grimaces a little as he does, disappointed in his younger self. He has put them there mostly to piss off Endeavor, sure, but still. No taste. It should have at least been Best Jeanist.)
and without thinking twice, sets it on fire.
He braces himself for the pain, fully expecting the flames to burn his flesh like they always did back then, but it never comes. It never comes.
Huh.
To be honest, he was not expecting this, not really. Nothing in his life has ever been easy, so why would it be now? His quirk coming back with him was something too good to even consider and yet here he is, staring in bewilderment at the burning wall and his hand, engulfed in his blue fire but miraculously unharmed.
His lips slowly twist into a slightly unsettling smile as the feeling of dread slowly decreases. This changes things, of course. If he can control his quirk as well as he does in the future, then he could change a lot of things. He could save Shouto, save all of his siblings, his mother even. He could protect them from Endeavor, for real this time. Get them all as far away as possible. Never have to suffer from his own flames burning him alive, never have to live with this horribly ruined body, barely held together with metal and spite.
He could easily kill Endeavor if he wanted.
And fuck, does he want to. It would be so simple too. Just wait ‘till he’s asleep, sneak into his room with a nice kitchen knife and there, no father anymore. He would probably go to jail for that or be forced to flee and become a villain once again, but he would be fine with that as long as it means his family will be safe.
He pauses, still staring at the strange person in the mirror. His face is clouded, brows creased as he thinks.
Isn’t that exactly what he wanted from the very beginning? To murder his father? To see him begging for mercy, just like Dabi begged him that night, and then deny it, just like Endeavor did? Wasn’t his whole villain gig only for that one purpose?
So why is he hesitating now?
It takes him a moment, a long moment of utter frustration that leads to him snarling, lashing out and in the end, to half of his room being on fire – good riddance, that one - but eventually he figures it out.
It was never about simply killing Endeavor, not exactly. Sure, the death itself would be a nice bonus, but Dabi doesn’t want his father simply dead. No, he wants him destroyed, completely ruined, just like Dabi once was.
He has always imagined their final battle in a certain way – very public, for once, with the whole country watching, as he reveals his identity and tells them all about what a monster their precious Number One Hero truly is. He dreamed about their shocked faces, full of horror as they look at his barely patched together body and realize that it was Endeavor who did it, to his own son nonetheless. He wanted everyone to hate his father, to find out he made one of his children turn into one of the worst villains in the country. He wanted the man to fall from grace, to utterly humiliate him. Dabi didn’t even care what would happened to him after he did all that, for all he cared he could die along with his father or get thrown into Tartarus for the rest of his miserable life. It didn’t matter. The only thing he needed to see before his end was his father’s crushed face as the man realized he has lost everything.
But that was then. None of this could happen now. Dabi isn’t even a villain now, for starters, and technically this Endeavor didn’t do anything too drastic yet. Being murdered by his teenage son, seemingly for no reason, would only turn him into some kind of a martyr and that’s the last thing Dabi wants.
No, he will not kill his father, he eventually decides, no matter how much he wants to. Not yet, at least.
Mind made up, Dabi sighs, once again glancing at the mirror. Shit, he really hates this. How fucked up is that when the person you see in the mirror isn’t even you? If this is permanent, then he would really have to get his hands on some hair dye soon. And piercings, he liked them. Really, anything that will piss off his father sounds like a great idea. Maybe even a tattoo? They probably don’t do it to minors without permission, but he thinks he remembers a place in the worse part of the town where people don’t really ask questions. Something to consider, for sure.
Suddenly, completely out of the blue, his stomach growls. Loudly. Huh.
He probably should change and go eat that breakfast, shouldn’t he? He doesn’t want to seem too suspicious too early and eggs are his favorite anyway. He can’t exactly remember if him skipping meals would be considered normal or not, but then again, all of his memories from before are a little fuzzy, so this whole thing is bound to blow up in his face sooner rather than later.
To his deepest disgust, it quickly turns out that his clothes consist mostly of light and colorful t-shirts and light blue jeans, loose ones at that. He shivers, the mere thought of wearing something not black and skin-tight making him physically uncomfortable. Why was he like this as a child? Did his parents buy his clothes or something? Or was it really his ‘style’ back then and it’s thanks to his villain career that he turned into an e-boy?
Interesting questions for sure, but none of them are actually helpful right now, unfortunately. Because this is a problem. He obviously can’t come down in pajamas, he might be slightly crazy but he is not suicidal (at least not actively), only he also can’t force himself to wear any of this rags. Some fucker might have thrown him back into Touya’s body, but he is not Touya anymore and he sure as hell is not going to just fall back into being some basic bitch, thank you very much. He is Dabi and Dabi would never even spare one pitying glance at such.. clothes.
Before he can consciously rethink his decision, the flames that are still slowly consuming his room in the background move and soon the whole closet is burning as well, because why the fuck not. He can’t stop himself from grinning with glee as he watches these abominations turn to ash. He has never before felt so free in this house. And, he realizes with a weird feeling in his chest, he can’t remember the time when he wasn’t scared to be here either.
He isn’t scared now.
It takes him a few seconds but eventually he figures he should do something about the fire. Burning down this stupid house is a very appealing idea indeed, but he supposes it’s a bit of an overkill for the first day. He makes a lazy gesture with his hand to extinguish the fire, leaving behind only a bunch of charred furniture and darkened walls (not exactly tasty, but better than that baby blue from before, he reasons). The state of his room pleases him to no end – he can’t remember how many times he has dreamt about burning it down. His own little golden cage.
He sneaks out and finds Fuyumi’s room without a problem. The sight of it gives him a pause for the slightest of moments - no visible change from the last time he’s been there, bringing back memories he doesn’t want to recall right now - but soon he focuses back on his task. It turns out Fuyumi owns some darker clothing, although not a lot. The black jeans are tight enough, although a little too short for him, leaving his ankles fashionably bare, and the black tank top could be a little bigger, but all in all, he’s satisfied.
He walks into the dining room with no glance towards anyone, aiming straight for what used to be his seat, noticing the eggs waiting for him. Everyone else are already eating, in silence, because Endeavor is present, but all of them look up when he arrives. Dabi wishes he brought a camera with him when he sees the scandalized look on his father’s stupid face. It takes all of his self-control not to burst out laughing.
“Touya, what on Earth are you wearing?” The garbage man demands instantly, his eyes comically wide. Dabi is almost sure there’s some red on the man’s face and wonders if it’s from building anger or if dear Enji is simply flustered.
“Hey, are those my clothes?” Fuyumi exclaims at the same time, frowning in confusion. He supposes he can’t blame her. He would probably be a little surprised too, were he in her place. She probably wasn’t expecting her older brother to steal her things. (She’s not Toga.) Especially since, as far as he’s concerned, he is not yet out to anyone in his family.
“Sure are,” he replies with a wink, grinning madly. Sue him, but he has always hated family meals mainly for the tense atmosphere looming over them (and also for Endeavor in general, obviously, but that is something he has already decided to leave be for now) and so his first time travel fix-it is definitely going to be making their family time better.
It must be working at least a little, because although Fuyumi is rolling her eyes at him with exasperation, there is a fond smile on her lips. Natsuo, on the other hand, has to hide his giggles behind his palms as they all observe Endeavor’s face turn even more flabbergasted with every second.
“Why would you wear your sister’s clothes?” The man grunts eventually, his eyebrows furrowed in something akin to frustration. His grip on the chopsticks visibly hardens and Dabi barely stops himself from laughing out loud when the food falls down back on his father’s plate right before it would reach his mouth.
“All of my clothes burned down and I had nothing to wear,” he explains calmly, taking a bite of his own food without such an embarrassing fail. He swears he can see the corners of his mother’s mouth twitch.
Of course, it could never be that easy. Not when their father is, unfortunately, still breathing.
“What do you mean burned down?!”
And shouting, apparently. Yeah, Dabi didn’t miss Endeavor’s yelling at all. He covers his ears with a grimace, noticing how any calm he might have created evaporates instantly as his siblings tense while their mother’s breath hitches.
The man’s sudden outburst causes the whole table to shake, spilling his tea all over the food he has on his plate. This time nothing can stop Dabi from snorting and sure, it only aggravates his father further, but Dabi is nothing if not stupidly reckless. He looks the man in the eyes calmly, like a parent waiting out their child’s petty outburst, and continues to eat as if there’s nothing out of the ordinary.
“Well, I was just practicing, you know, to make you proud,” Dabi openly bullshits with a smirk playing on his lips that he only party manages to hide behind his own mug of a perfectly intact tea. “But I am so bad at this that I accidentally set everything on fire. You know how it is.”
Though, sadly, Endeavor looks like he does not in fact know how it is at all.
“Oh, honey, are you hurt?” His mother, the angel, asks quietly but with concern, her eyes already searching for any sight of burns on his body.
“I’m fine,” he assures her, feeling oddly touched. Of course her first worry is the well-being of her child and not the ire of her quietly fuming abusive husband, who cannot seem to be able to articulate anything, apparently too shocked by his son’s sudden change of attitude. This Endeavor is surely still unused to such blatant disrespect directed at him by anyone, especially since he’s not working with Hawks yet.
Because sure, Touya used to be a rebellious little shit as well, Dabi will give him that. But he wasn’t nowhere near brave enough to mock Endeavor to his face, preferring to piss the man off with little things, small acts of defiance which earned him painful punishments nonetheless. And even if from time to time he managed to muster enough balls to dare challenge the man directly, Touya would always tremble with badly hidden dread. Dabi is well past it though, any fear of his father disappearing along with every ounce of respect he might have once had for the man. Right now, as he looks at his family’s nervous fidgeting and obvious apprehension, his only emotion in regards to his father is pure hatred.
“You practiced on your own?! You know you’re not allowed—”
“In fact, I need an entire new room,” Dabi interrupts the man quickly, enjoying the way his father’s face is becoming redder and redder. He almost expects steam to blow out of the man’s ears or something. It’s hilarious. “And new clothes, but we established that already.”
That’s when it finally is too much for the old man. He lasted longer than Dabi expected, to be honest. The father he remembers would probably smack him just for wearing a girl’s clothes. This one actually needed a little provoking!
Dabi ducks without missing a bit, a wave of boring orange flames missing him just barely. By doing this though, he causes the table to fall over, food flying everywhere, along with the plates that crash loudly on the floor. Fuyumi yelps, the fire almost catching her too and she quickly staggers back. Natsuo is just looking at them shocked, frozen in his place, while Rei starts shouting at Endeavor immediately.
“Enji, stop! Look what you’re doing!”
“He won’t be speaking to me like this!” Dear Enji roars, the iconic bits of fire appearing on his beard. His eyes are furious, hands clenched into fists as he tries and fails to intimidate rather annoyed Dabi.
He wasn’t done eating, okay? God knows this new pathetic body of his needs every piece of food it can get.
After that little spectacle, Shouto finally starts crying, breaking the momentary silence. In seconds Fuyumi is there to comfort him with hugs and hushed words, despite being obviously scared herself. Natsuo is staring at Dabi with something that might be awe, but it’s clouded by anxiety as the boy bites down on his lower lip.
“Now, father, I don’t see why you’re so angry, I’m simply informing you that my bedroom burned down and needs to be fixed. You should have expected that, really. Children with fire quirks are known to sometimes lose control on their power and—”
“Lose control?! Sometimes?! Boy, you have no control over your power at all! You’re useless and weak and that’s why you can’t use your quirk without supervision! I thought you were old enough to understand basic rules.”
“Your rules suck though,” Dabi points out in his too-innocent voice, blinking his wide eyes at the furious man. Then he drops the act and waves his hand casually. “And I really don’t see the problem. It’s just some furniture to replace. Aren’t you rich?”
Whatever response he would have gotten to that (probably another blast of fire in the face, if he’s being realistic) is interrupted by his mother, who is suddenly by his side, grabbing his arm and squeezing it with warning.
“Touya, that’s enough,” she chastises him, keeping her voice low even though Endeavor can obviously still hear her.
“Did you hear him? Is that any way for a child to speak to his father? That boy is insolent and ill-mannered and it’s your fault for spoiling him too much!”
“Spoiling…?” Dabi can’t help but snort in disbelief, the sheer shock of that statement replacing the anger for a moment. When was he ever spoiled? Does Endeavor honestly think loving your child and not insulting slash beating them up all the time equals spoiling?
How dare that dick imply that Touya was ever treated too well in this hellish house?
Endeavor’s hand goes up and in seconds Rei is standing between them, still trying to protect her son even though she is probably scared of her husband the most out of them all. The man does not react to her at all, glaring at Dabi with disgust and breathing heavily. He looks a moment away from firing another blast at him and Dabi silently dares him to try.
“Enjii, please, just leave him alone, let’s just eat, okay? Touya will apologize, won’t you, darling? And I will clean this up and make you your favorite, there’s no need for all this shouting so early in the morning,” Rei offers with a forced calmness, although her hands are shaking, as she makes sure her body is right in front of Dabi’s.
Dabi has to admit, he doesn’t remember his mother this way. It makes him feel guilty now, seeing her ready to take a blow for him, just so her precious child will not get hurt anymore. She’s so strong, stronger than most and it took him a long time to realize that – sold into the marriage she didn’t want, forced to live with a violent man who didn’t care about her at all and made to give birth to his four children. And yet somehow she never hated them, at least not until Enji broke her one time too many.
Really, he’s impressed she managed to take it for over fifteen years before she snapped.
His memories of her are clouded, any positive emotions hidden under the resentment they all felt when she hurt Shouto. They knew it wasn’t her fault and that she didn’t mean to, but she did and it was because of her that their youngest sibling was scarred forever. And then she disappeared, was taken away, left them. Alone with their father, with no one else to stand up for them anymore. That was the moment it all truly went to hell for them. And Dabi knows none of this was his mother’s fault, logically, but he has always blamed her anyway. For the fact that he had to grow up in one day, along with Fuyumi, and take care of his siblings, because Endeavor sure as hell wasn’t going to.
He doesn’t hate her now. Even when she has no chance of winning, she stands proud, he notices. She is tense, so much that it looks almost painful, and her voice is pleading, not demanding, but she is not backing down. She does it for him, to save him.
He tried to do it too once, be like her, that day his life ended, he remembers. Endeavor was about to hurt Shouto, little Shouto who wasn’t even six years old yet, and Touya couldn’t let him. He walked in on them during ‘training’ or more like a torture session. He was screaming then, and crying and begging Endeavor to leave his little brother alone, can’t you see what you’re doing to him?!, but the man was too angry to listen. He was about to burn Shouto then, for real, maybe leave him with another scar and Touya wasn’t going to let that happen. Jumping in front of him and taking the hit himself was not a conscious decision, but he never regretted it, even after the fight ended and his siblings were left sobbing brokenly over his half-melted body.
He was weak then, desperate, irrational. Consumed by panic, he wasn’t able to control his power and it cost him dearly.
He is not weak now though and he will not let anyone take hits for him anymore, not when he is perfectly capable of taking them himself.
“Leave him alone? Even now, you’re on his side?” Endeavor’s voice is quiet and calm all of the sudden but there is a dark look in his eyes and Dabi knows what’s going to happen even before his mother realizes the same.
He finds himself between them the moment his father’s hand raises again, ready to slap his wife into submission the way he always used to when he decided she was out of line. Instead of letting the hit land, Dabi catches the thick wrist midway and stops Endeavor’s hand from making impact just in time. It’s not easy, Dabi’s physical body is still pretty weak, but his reflexes are better and he has an advantage of his father not expecting him to intervene.
Endeavor’s eyes are wide as he regards his suddenly so much more defiant child, like he can’t quite believe this is really happening. He’s not entirely wrong, since Touya probably wouldn’t dare to do anything like this, not until that night at least. Dabi takes a great satisfaction in keeping eye contact with his father and even sends him a cocky smile, despite knowing what a bad idea it is.
“You brat, you will regret it!” The man snarls, yanking his arm free, and attempts to hit Dabi this time, but he is quicker and easily avoids it, much to his father’s frustration.
“Leave mum alone, you asshole,” Dabi says dangerously after he stands up again, staring at the man with the rawest hatred he can muster. It’s not particularly hard. He more or less dreams of disemboweling Endeavor at least five times a day.
Faintly, he hears the horrified gasp of his sister, a whispered ‘awesome’ from Natsu’s mouth and hushed sobs of little Shouto. It reminds him even more that he needs to protect them, all of them, no matter what. His father used to prefer ‘punishing’ him without an audience and Dabi’s sure it’s not easy for his siblings to see this now. At first he has thought it would be fun to rile his father up, but now it hits him that he’s not going to be the only one hurt and that his own stupidity could cause his family even more harm.
“Touya, please, stop it,” his mother urges, reaching for him, probably in an attempt to hold him back. She’s shaken, pale and crying, tears ruining her make-up and he knows she’s not sure what to do after he jumped in to save her. He notices, with a sad kind of understanding, that there is a similar hatred in her eyes to what he imagines is in his own every time he thinks about Endeavor, only her is buried deeper, less visible.
He brushes her off, gently, not about to give in, not this time. He decided long time ago that he will not allow Endeavor to hurt him ever again and he intends to keep it that way, no matter what world or time he’s in.
“I’m not doing anything, he’s the one who’s trying to hurt you,” Dabi snaps, regretting it instantly when he sees Rei flinch at the harsh words. It seems that he got too used to being rude all the time as a villain, even to people he cares about, and now can’t control it. Just yesterday he would only laugh at the similar thought, but now he decides he will need to change it.
He has no time to apologize though, because a moment later Endeavor sends another blast of fire right at him. A loving father, everyone.
Dabi rolls out of the way in time, pushing his mother out of the way, and no one gets hurt, but it’s a close one. He narrows his eyes, crouching next to the fallen table, and summons his own flames, letting them spread all over his arms.
There’s a moment when Endeavor laughs, without any real humor, and his face is full of contempt.
“What are you going to do, boy? Fight me?” Endeavor sneers at him, taking a lazy step closer. “With these pathetic flames of yours?”
“If I will have to,” he answers, even though he knows very well it’s a rhetorical question.
“You will only hurt yourself,” the man states, although there’s a small twitch on his face when seconds pass and the blue fire on Dabi’s arms remains harmless. “We both know you are too weak to win with me.”
“Maybe I am, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to give up,” Dabi informs him cheerfully, letting his quirk spread a little more, enjoying the slight tingling and a pleasant warmth.
He doesn’t want to accidentally burn anyone (well, other than his father) so he’s more careful than ever with using his power, but soon enough there is fire raging all over his body. There are sounds of surprise and concern from his mother and siblings, but he ignores them. Knowing the effect it will have, he creates a small fireball in his palm with practiced ease and smirks at Endeavor’s stunned expression. If he remembers correctly, this is something his father was trying to teach him around this time, with - to say lightly - unsatisfying results. The need to show off and his flair for dramatics have always been Dabi’s weaknesses, he admits, and maybe he’s petty - he definitely is - but in some way the shock on the man’s face and something like reluctant pride in his eyes already feel a lot like a win.
“When did you learn that?” Endeavor demands, but he’s visibly less angry and in a way Dabi should probably be glad about it, the danger to him and his family gone, but all he can feel is an urge to shoot his fire at the man anyway, to leave him with a scar so he would remember. The one from High End is gone now and it leaves Dabi itching to hurt.
“What does it matter?” He asks, just to be difficult. Endevor still didn’t put out his flames and so Dabi doesn’t either.
“You improved,” his father states with enough hesitation that it sounds almost like a question.
Dabi smirks smugly, enjoying the confusion.
“No shit,” he snorts, his self-control barely non-existent.
His mother is waving her hands frantically, silently begging him to stop now that Endeavor has calmed down. He’s inclined to ignore her, but the sight of his brothers and sister curled around each other, with wet cheeks and pale faces, makes him reconsider. Damn, it isn’t even an hour since he got here and he’s already going soft. What kind of a pathetic villain he is?
“I literally just told you I was practicing on my own.”
“Well, that’s good. Your performance isn’t as terrible as always,” Endeavor says and it’s probably the most praise he has ever received from the man. Dabi almost wishes the real Touya was here to hear the words, that kid would probably appreciate them at least, instead of simply wanting to puke. “Maybe you can still amount to something. Though you still shouldn’t practice on your own if it ends up with your room ruined.”
The urge to punch him almost scares Dabi with its intensity. He doesn’t need the garbage man to praise him, to mercifully allow him the possibility of not being a failure. He wants to believe that if that night never happened, he wouldn’t end up as a villain. Maybe he would even be a hero, taking his father down via legal ways.
(Probably not, he retracts, but who knows. The world is, after all, full of surprises.)
“I lied about that by the way,” he informs the man, forcing his mouth to twist into a smile. If he can’t hurt him physically, Dabi will just have to be as much of a nuisance as possible. “I didn’t burn it because of an accident. I burned it because it was fucking ugly and I want a better room.”
“What…?”
“Alright, I think it’s time to clean this up,” Rei interrupts, her smile forced as she diverts Endeavor’s attention to herself. “We wouldn’t want the stains to ruin the carpet, right? I’m sure you have a lot of work, Enji, you go take care of that and we will clean here, right, Touya?”
Knowing that anything that would escape from his mouth would just restart their conflict, Dabi wisely chooses to keep quiet and simply nods. Endeavor eyes them both a little suspiciously for a very long couple of seconds, but eventually leaves the room without another word, probably about to lock himself in his study. Not that anyone will miss him.
Of course, if he expected this little stunt to have no consequences, Dabi was very much wrong.
“Touya, what on earth were you thinking?!” His mother whisper-shouts at him angrily the moment they are alone. “You can’t provoke him like that, you know how he is!”
“I let him get away with treating you like shit for much too long,” Dabi replies calmly, his arms crossed over his chest and no, he is certainly not pouting. “Treating us all like shit, really. He’s a shitty father, a shitty person and a shitty hero. I can and will make him regret ever laying a hand on any of you.”
“This isn’t your job,” Rei objects weakly, her voice desperate, and suddenly he realizes she’s still crying, her body trembling slightly. He has no idea what to do, shooting panicked glances towards Fuyumi, who is too busy calming down Shouto to help him in any way.
Unsure if he’s just going to make her feel worse, he tries to explain, “I—I love you. I can’t let him hurt you, you understand, right? I can’t let him hurt me, not anymore. Really, why are we letting him get away with so much? We could expose him, he would be ruined and we would be free! He would never hurt us again.”
Rei doesn’t look like she believes that and honestly, he doesn’t either. Right now there are no permanent scars on their bodies, no dead sons, no crazy wives. They have no evidence for the abuse they suffered and even if someone would miraculously believe them, no judge would ever convict the Number Two Hero without a solid proof.
He grits his teeth, once again reminded why he started hating society so much. How helpless, powerless he felt, unable to do anything to make his father pay unless he went and did it himself. Villainy is almost never a choice, he thinks, as the ugly feelings he’s been keeping under wraps resurface, boiling his blood with an urge to grab a kitchen knife and solve their problems once and for good.
Rei must see something in his eyes, because suddenly she pulls him into a gentle hug. “I know how you feel, sweetie, believe me. And I admire that you want to protect us, I do, but I am the one who needs to deal with him, not you, Touya. I am the parent here, it’s my job. I admit, I might have not been the best at it, but—”
“Mum, that’s not true,” he assures her, after pulling away, trying to chase away the phantom sounds of Shouto’s screams echoing in his ears. “You’re doing all you can, but you must know he’s just too much for one person to handle. I won’t let you do this alone anymore. You can’t stop me.”
She stares at him like she’s seeing him for the first time. Tears are still falling down her face, but she smiles. “I know. I have never been able to stop you from anything, have I? You’re so stubborn, my dear. One day it will get you killed.”
She’s joking, of course. Or Dabi thinks she is. Doesn’t change the fact that she’s absolutely right.
He shrugs, smiling at her too. “It will be worth dying over.”
Her laugh is wet and slightly hysterical, but he pretends he doesn’t hear that. This time he’s the one wrapping his arms around her as he puts his chin on her shoulder.
(Why does his fifteen-year-old self is so fucking short?)
“Still, try not to make him angry like that again,” she asks. “I know he will hurt you eventually if you keep it up, who knows how badly, and I can’t lose you, do you understand?”
Something clenches in his heart when he hears her say that. How must she have felt after finding out what happened to him last time? How much did she miss him, how many nights did she spend crying over the son she believed to be dead? And why hasn’t he ever visited her…?
Oh, yeah, because he was a villain. Right.
He sent her flowers though, lots of them, that surely counts as something? He wasn’t the worst son ever, was he? It’s not like he didn’t want to see her, but her condition was so delicate already and he feared that adding having her son revealed as a dangerous criminal would only ruin her progress and surely she would hate him anyway…?
Suddenly his throat feels funny and his eyes… are wet? Is he… bleeding? But why would he, he doesn’t have his wounds yet, he wasn’t hurt…
Oh.
He must be crying. That’s it, isn’t it? Tears. It feels foreign, fake in a way that shouldn’t, but also surprisingly relieving.
Crying. It has been so long since he was even able to, since the unforgiving fire burned out his tear ducts and robbed him of the ability forever, he forgot how it felt. The salty water is warm as it rolls down his face and it wets his mother’s shirt, but she’s holding him tightly so he can’t do anything about it.
Why is he crying though? He won, or got as much of a win as he could ever hope for with Endeavor, his family isn’t hurt, he isn’t hurt, so no reason to be sad, other than his father still breathing. It must be exhaustion catching up to him. For sure.
“I know, mum,” he says quietly and fortunately his voice isn’t shaking like he feared it might. He buries his face into her neck, enjoying the physical contact a bit too much, savoring it while it lasts. When was the last time he got to hug his mother? He’s not sure and he won’t admit it out loud, but he missed it. “I know, but you’ve been doing it for so long now, you need a break. I can handle father and I won’t let him hurt me anymore, okay? None of you. Just trust me.”
Rei doesn’t answer verbally, instead she nods, squeezing him even tighter. And then there are other arms around his middle and his legs, startling him for a second before he looks down and sees his siblings joining the group hug.
“Are you really alright, Touya?” Little Shouto murmurs into his thigh, not looking up.
Dabi ruffles his brother’s hair affectionately, smiling down at him, “Yeah, kid, I’m great.”
“You scared me.”
“I’m sorry, Shou.”
They stay quiet after that until finally the closeness gets to be too much for Dabi and he awkwardly escapes the hug. His mother chuckles at his antics, wiping the rest of the tears from her face and smiling softly for the first time. Shouto raises his arms, demanding to be picked up which Rei does without complaints. Natsuo looks like he wants to say something, but isn’t sure how and Fuyumi stares at her eldest brother with narrowed eyes.
“So why are you really wearing my clothes?”
“I wasn’t lying, all of mine burned down,” he tells her, smiling innocently. He sees it for a desperate need to change the topic and bring some normalcy to the conversation it is and happily indulges her.
“But why mine?”
“I could hardly wear Shouto’s, could I?”
“You could have taken Natsu’s or dad’s,” she pushes, her stare unimpressed as she crosses her arms across her chest.
“Maybe I just didn’t like any of theirs,” Dabi shrugs, still smiling. The child versions of his siblings are surprisingly adorable – it’s hard to stay annoyed at them for too long. “Didn’t have anything black in there.”