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This wasn't supposed to happen, this was not how Dabi planned this all to go. He wasn't supposed to get attached, he wasn't supposed to care.
He was supposed to be fine dropping these people the moment the risk got too great, he was supposed to be fine with being alone.
Now he can't stand it anymore, not like before.
He had joined the league to use them, and have some standing and allies before his revenge took him down the path of no return, of flesh charring off his bones and smoke in his lungs as he finally took down his father, making him see him and what he did.
He was supposed to be nothing til then, a haunting memory to his family.
He wasn't supposed to be cared for, to care in return but now he can't imagine his life without it.
He's grown weak, hasn't he?
Here he was, in a dilapidated building, damp with mold and on a ratty couch that's seen better days, burns and stabs across its fabric.
It wasn't supposed to happen but it did, his accursed quirk being used for something other than pain and the scars across his flesh, bubbling his blood.
It was being used for comfort, to.. help.
It felt wrong.
He was being used as a heater, how strange is that? He never thought there was a positive to his useless body but the others somehow disagreed on that. If you asked him just a few months back he would've laughed in your face as he burnt you to ashes but now?
He couldn't help the ache he felt in his heart when he saw his ..friend start to slow, get sluggish and dazed as the cold crept in, barely there.
It reminded him of things he thought he rid of years ago but it kept crawling back. He didn't care to name it, it'd feel too real if he did so he ignored it. And so he let his ally use his body heat, to starve off the cold that made the lizard so unlike himself, letting his quirk bring life back to those scales.
It hurt to imagine a world where his quirk was good at helping people but this, this was okay for now.
And this wasn't the only strange thing this group of people made him feel, think or do.
He thinks back to the times his heart lurched in his chest when strange criminals reached out to touch Toga and he lashed out without a second thought, their ashes gone on the wind and how Toga smiled at him after he did, running up to him to wrap her small arms around his waist, squealing a thank you.
Or the times his stomach dropped as he watched Shigaraki pace the floor, his nails digging wounds into his neck as he rambled on about his plans, his enemies, his teachers, his father.
He didn't really know what that feeling was but he didn't like it, it felt wrong as it swirled in his chest. He bit his lip to keep his thoughts from spilling out, from reaching out to the younger man to pull his bloody hands away from his skin. They were all so young, so young, it hurt.
He kept quiet.
He thinks back to the times something settled in his gut, uncomfortable like lead as he saw Toga struggle to calm down one of Jin's episodes, the man on the floor as he babbled and screamed at himself, tears in his eyes and how scared Toga looked as she tried to calm him, her eyes damp too.
It made him feel sick and he didn't like to think of why, thinking of it too hard made him remember grey eyes and long white hair.
He remembers the ache in his chest and in his eyes when he returned to the league one night after drinking, the building was.. so quiet and there were drops of blood on the floor, dust in the corners
Tear tracks running down Toga and Jin's faces, Iguchi carefully spinning a roll of bandages around Sako's stump of an arm, Shigaraki pacing and rambling curses, plans for revenge and agony. And No Magne.
She was gone.
He wasn't even there.
He's thankful he can't cry anymore.
Being here wasn't supposed to mean much, he was present as little as possible, only using the league as a homebase for his plans.
But they forced their way in, forced his heart to beat when he thought it had forgotten how to. It reminded him of his siblings, how they fought so hard to see him smile even when the world crashed around him, his dreams bleeding out and how he tried to push everyone away, bury himself into training, into burns and bruises but those little hands and little smiles refused to let him go.
Sometimes he wishes he hadn't let go but those were the dreams of another boy.
He tried so hard to push Touya back into the ground, leave him rotting on that mountain but just like before, little hands and little smiles refused to let him go, laughing at his attempts to make them go away.
Except this time they understood his anger, and felt it for him too, maybe things will be alright this time, for a little while at least.
Until his flames, always eating away at his flesh, finally rotted him away.
It doesn't burn as much.