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Time is relative.
That is what Dabi told himself, when he realised that he had been staring at the bleak wall for the last three hours without moving or speaking or thinking anything in particular.
Time is relative.
And so is reality.
And he himself is relatively unimportant.
He kept staring.
Dabi was upset about feeling like shit. It was a paradox probably. Feeling bad about feeling like shit made him feel even worse and so on and so on. Devil’s circle. But he couldn’t help himself.
Yesterday had been fine. Yesterday had been more than fine actually. He had been outside, getting some ramen from the local grocery store, playing cards with Toga and Twice and later watching a film with Tomura. He had felt good. It was stupid to feel so wrong and horrible today.
He blinked, another half an hour had passed.
With a sigh, Dabi shifted in his bed to stare up at the ceiling instead, trying to relax his aching muscles which were more than upset about lying around all day.
He didn’t know why, but everything today felt wrong. It felt out of place, out of reach, distorted and warped. He wasn’t able to grasp the world around him properly without feeling it slipping away immediately again. He couldn’t focus, he couldn’t calm.
There was music playing downstairs and voices occasionally carried up towards his damaged ears and even though he couldn’t make out singular voices or words, he was pretty sure the rest of the league were finally having a relatively relaxing weekend. But the fact that they were keeping their music so low he could only barely make it out, spoke for the fact that they were trying not to disturb him. They were holding back because of him, because of his mood or whatever.
Dabi dragged a hand across his face when a familiar thought came up in his mind.
If he wasn’t around… they’d live a lot more freely.
He sighed. He knew it was intrusive and he knew it was just his depression speaking, but damn his brain was loud today. The thought had been running over and over in his head for hours now.
The pain could be over if you’re not here anymore.
You would stop annoying people so much if you were gone.
Your meds are evidently not that fucking helpful.
It would be better if you were gone.
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts and for a moment, Dabi considered ignoring it. But then they’d probably panic and break his door open, expecting to find him dead on the floor again with drugs in his blood.
He hummed unhappily, trying to make it sound as passive aggressive as a humming could be.
The door opened about halfway and Tomura leaned into the room, partially hidden by the doorframe. “You wanna eat something?” He asked and Dabi pulled his knees up below the blanket, crossing his arms above them.
“Nah. I’m fine.”
Tomura studied him, then tilted his head.
“You don’t look fine man.” He cleared his throat. “How ‘bout you come downstairs? Just to sit around with the rest of us.”
Dabi glared at him, curling up a little more.
He didn’t want to be around people right now.
He didn’t want anyone to look at him, or to talk to him, or to be aware of his existence. He wanted to stay in his room and stare at the ceiling until he fell asleep. Or to stay in his room until no one was paying attention, so he could open the window and just… fall out of it. Fall deep. And not wake up.
He shrugged. “Not interested. I’m fine.”
Tomura sighed. “Yeah, you keep saying you’re fine. What’s up man? You sick?”
Sick meant Ujiko.
“NO!” Dabi yelled suddenly, then blinked and cleared his throat. “No. Not sick. Just not feeling great today. K? Happens.”
He shrugged, trying to do his best at seeming uncaring, but Tomura shifted in the doorway.
“Can I come in?” He gestured into the room and Dabi raised an eyebrow, then shrugged.
“Do what you want. I don’t give a shit,” He mumbled and Tomura nodded, leaving the door open when he stepped closer and leaned against the wall next to the bed.
They were silent for a moment, then the white-haired young man cleared his throat again.
“You having a depression phase?” He asked quietly, a bit awkwardly even and Dabi raised his eyebrows.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He grinned fake. “I’m always depressed if ya haven’t noticed yet,” He chuckled and Tomura sent him a glare which meant that he clearly didn’t appreciate the joke right now.
“That’s the thing though. You’re not always,” Tomura answered and Dabi looked away again, picking at the staples on his right hand.
“None of your fucking business,” He finally mumbled and Tomura turned fully towards him.
“Yes. It is my fucking business,” He hissed and Dabi clenched his fists. But Tomura continued different than what he expected.
“You’re part of this league, part of this fucking family. And you’re my friend. I wanna help you! But I can’t do that if you don’t talk to me!” He scratched his neck. “Toga said you slept till past 1pm today. So clearly you’re having a depression day, ‘cause you always sleep long then. You haven’t left your room today, you haven’t eaten anything or talked to anyone. And you get like this every few weeks. Hell, if I’m keeping track correctly, every week at least once! That’s not normal!”
Dabi clenched his fist tighter. “I know,” He mumbled and Tomura sighed.
“I’m not judging you. Or accusing you. I wanna help. What do you need?”
Dabi blinked.
Wait what?
He looked up, confusion written all over his face.
“Help? Fuck off man. This is none of your business! And no! I don’t need Ujiko!”
Tomura rolled his eyes. “We’ll talk some other time about why you hate Ujiko so much, that’s kinda worrisome man. And I’m not trying to get up in your business, I’m trying to help you!” He hissed, then he took a deep, calming breath.
“How about, you come downstairs, eat something and just sit with us, so you’re not all alone in a shitty looking room. And once you’re feeling better, we talk about this all, and figure out how we can get these episodes under control. ‘Cause I want you to rather play cards with us like yesterday, than have you overdosed on the fucking floor again like month.”
Dabi stared at him.
He didn’t want to talk about it.
He didn’t want to seem crazy.
He didn’t want to fucking interact with people.
Dabi sighed and rubbed his face. “Will you leave me alone if I come downstairs for a few hours? Just to sit on the floor. I’m really not in the mood to talk to any of you fuckers.”
Tomura nodded. “Totally. Sounds fair.”
“And you won’t involve Ujiko in this whole fixing attempt. Got it?”
His leader nodded again. “Yes, got it.” He held his partially gloved-hand out and Dabi hesitated, then grabbed it let him pull himself off the bed.
Before they could leave the bedroom, Tomura raised a hand again and stopped Dabi in his motion.
“Also, Dabi… We’re not doing a fixing attempt. You’re neither crazy nor broken. So like… no fixing needed.” He nodded, not waiting for Dabi to reply, before walking out of the room.
Dabi blinked, clearing his throat. Maybe he’d start believing that some time. Not now, not today. But tomorrow maybe. Who knew.
“Also Dabi?” Tomura yelled from the stairs and Dabi raised an eyebrow, while pulling the bedroom door shut behind him to follow his leader.
“What?”
“Take a fucking shower and use the bathroom. I’m pretty sure you haven’t done either today yet. Not healthy!”
Dabi rolled his eyes. He would. Probably. Later. Right now, leaving the bedroom was enough of an accomplishment thought. One step at a time.