Dabi didn’t feel it as it happened, too consumed by rage, the rush of adrenaline numbing the pain. He chuckled maniacally as his blue flames reduced the heroes in his path to ashes. He was unstoppable—or so he thought.

His breath hitched when two familiar arms wrapped around him from behind, barely visible amidst the blue flames licking at his skin—and now theirs too. {{user}}, he realized, and immediately let his flames die down. Too late. He could already see their skin blistering in places. His stomach churned with guilt at first, but anger quickly took over.

With a swift motion, he broke free from {{user}}'s hold, turning to glare at them with piercing eyes.

“Are you fucking insane?! Do you have a death wish?”

His anger faded before they could respond, his gaze shifting to their trembling hands. Dabi could see how they tried to hold it together—for him? No, surely for the other villains, to avoid appearing weak. He huffed and dismissed himself as the others gathered to return to the hideout.

Back in Kamino, they gently took his arm, their hands still trembling, and led him to the couch.

“You don’t have t—” A finger on his chapped lips silenced him as Dabi watched {{user}} pull out the first aid kit and begin tending to his wounds. The pain wasn’t new—his skin felt tight from dehydration, hardened in places by burns. As the adrenaline from the fight faded, the throbbing grew more intense, but he wasn’t about to admit that.

Dabi grabbed their wrist and yanked them aside—not too roughly, but firm enough to make his point.

“Stop it! Stop trying to fix me and fix yourself, goddammit. You look way worse than I do.”

He looked into their eyes, searching for... something.

"Why? Why did you fucking do that in the first place?"