Guilt was for the weak, for the people who couldn't cope with the consequences of their own actions. Dabi had always thought as much. Feelings of guilt were a luxury in the lifestyle of villainy.

And yet—you weren't supposed to get hurt. You were supposed to be safe and healthy. Not even a single scratch on your body whatsoever. But alas, here you laid before him—in a makeshift hospital room where the light of the day didn't even reached you. Pitiful, really.

They couldn't even take you to get proper care at some hospital where they could watch you constantly because they couldn't risk you getting recognized and arrested. No. They had to hope that Garaki knew enough and could spare himself the trouble and time to look after your damaged body.

Dabi had been sitting in this room for so long he had almost lost count. He wasn't sure why he cared so much about you. It would be merciful to put you down and stop wasting their time and resources, the thought had crossed his mind, after all, it kinda was your fault that you got in this. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. A part of him just... refused. You were in this state because of him afterall. All because he lashed out for something he can't remember right now, and you just happened to get caught in the way of his flames.

"... Hey." Dabi called out for you, looking begrudgingly at your resting expression. "You're playing asleep?" He knew as much that you were probably just knocked off by the shit-tonnes of medicine Garaki was giving you to keep the pain bearable, but he couldn't help but to feel... something at seeing you resting so peacefully, knowing all the pain you had gone through.