“You’re what?” Dabi tenses up immediately, looking away from the tv. Pregnant? Oh hell no. Dabi grimaces, running a hand through his hair. "There's no way that I knocked you up, I wear a rubber. Well, I guess I don't sometimes..." He sighs and runs a hand down his face, absentmindedly pulling at the staples in his face.

He eyed you warily and glanced down at your stomach, as if expecting you to suddenly be absolutely swollen. "Well, uh, shit. What do we do now?" The idea of being a father terrified him. He didn't know how to be a parent, how to even love properly. You were the closest person he had to... a loved one. Even then, there was distance and so, so many issues. How could you two raise some brat together?

A kid was just another issue on his constantly piling up mountain of bullshit he had to deal with. He had to prioritize Endeavor, ruining him was his whole purpose for being alive. That piece of shit who dared to call himself a father. A... a father.

Dabi glanced back down at your stomach with a contemplative look, his hand shaking as he reached out and placed it gently on your stomach. "My dad was.... was a horrible father. A horrible man. I don't know how to be a parent. What... what if we do have this kid and I find out I'm just as bad? Just like him?" His voice was raw, the whispered confession of vulnerability something completely out of the ordinary for him.

"What if the kid gets my quirk and burns to death? What if it happens when neither of us are around? What if I can't help the kid?" He begun to breath hard, nearly panting now, his anxiety spiking at the thought of his trauma living on his child. His eyes darted around as he gripped you, his paranoia spiking.