Chapter Text
No one’s ever cared enough about me to help me through the pains I’ve gone through my entire life. For the majority of my life I’ve always been on my own. My parents could care less and my sister would never even look my way. The only times it was relevant was when you were in physical pain and it would cost money.
Until that wasn’t a concern anymore and money was. Money and opportunity.
I ran. That’s all I could do. And I ran into the mysterious third I never spoke of.
And now, here he was talking to me again. My insides burned hearing his voice before I hung up. But he called me back when I had a hand on the doorknob. The fear settled in my bones and had me picking up.
“Now, birdie-cat, you can’t do that,” he teased. “You’re gonna hurt a man’s feelings.”
“Like you ever gave a shit,” I scoffed. “Why the hell are you calling me, Dabi? How did you even get this number?”
“I got friends in high places. And I missed you.”
“You sure didn’t miss me when you left me for dead in a ditch,” you growled. “Besides, don’t you have a red feathered dick to suck? He’d hate it if you were talking to me.”
“You’re gonna have to stop reading those tabloids. They’re nothing but lying shits.” I heard the dangerous tone hidden in his voice when he was agitated. Smiled when I struck a nerve.
“I’m coming to see you later.”
“The hell you are. Leave me alone, Dabi, you have no business being in my life now.” You looked back at the door and smiled. “You only cared that I was broken enough to obey everything you said. I’m not the same woman from then. I’ve moved on. I have men who care about me, flaws and all.”
“Hanging around my little brother and his lovers isn’t moving on. It’s distracting you from the truth. You’re a homewrecker, birdie-cat. It’s only a matter of time before you come to realize that.”
Finally, he hung up, leaving the words fresh in my mind for me to ruminate on.
Why was this happening now? What moron thought it was a good idea to realize him of all people from a penitentiary? Integrating him back into society was the equivalent of putting a swan in a swamp. Or in his case a phoenix by a beach. After that war, who was going to hire him or let him into their work establishment/life?
There was so much wrong with this it hurt my head to think about. All I can focus on now is the fact he will come for me during the day at work. Maybe I can fake being sick and hold off on going to work today.
Then he’d wait until you’re back in the building the following days before striding in. Plus the boys would stay behind to take care of you, damn their work schedule, I berated myself.
The boys didn’t know about any of this. Telling them I dated a criminal, Shoto’s “dead” brother no less, would push me away from them. But the longer I hid this, the angrier they’d be when they found out. Not “if”, “when”.
What was I going to do?
There was only one person who could understand me in this situation and that was Jirou. She never told Momo, or anyone, this, but she dated a bad boy with a record towards the end of middle school. She broke it off when she found out he was using some stolen chemicals to make a bomb to blow up the apartment building his dad lived in.
When we met and I told her who my dad was, she immediately went on record to explain what had happened with them. Which then propelled me to reveal to her my backstory with Touya, who I now only saw as Dabi.d
So when you got that phone call, she was the first person ringing on your way to the empty break room at the agency.
“The hell do you mean he’s coming to see you,” she gaped. I just finished running through the ordeals I just experienced before heading to work and she was not happy.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “He was one of Shigaraki’s lieutenants in the war. Toga’s a different case given her . . . history, but the difference between her and Dabi is that she didn’t see any difference and saw it as a term of affection because of her quirk. He brings pain onto others to relieve the weight of his own.”
My breath grew heavy as I looked over my shoulder in case anyone was following me. But there was no one. At least, no one that wanted to be seen.
“What do I do, Jirou? I can’t tell the boys about this.”
“Ok, I understand not telling Shoto, but why can’t you tell Kiri and Bakugou? I know they’d understand.”
“Do you believe they’d keep quiet,” you asked with sarcasm.
Her silence meant she knew I was right. The three of them were ripe with communication. And Kirishima was notorious for spilling tea to his lovers because the guilt would weigh down on his chest.
For extra measure, Jirou, Tsuyu and Mina walked down to the agency to “visit” as they put it for the boys. The minute they were preoccupied with sidekicks, Jirou rushed to my desk with the frog and pink alien in tow.
“Has anyone suspicious come up yet?”
I shook my head. “No one I recognize. Dabi’s appearance is unmistakable to anyone. I’m sure he’d get flagged on the street out of reflex before he made his way over here.”
“Plus, it’s not like he can just walk into a hero agency, especially his brother’s, without alerting the owners —ribbit—” said Froppy.
“I still can’t believe you never told us you used to date Dabi before he went on mental,” Mina huffed. “That sounds like crucial information to tell the girls who helped you bag three boyfriends.”
I turned to Jirou with a wide stare, that turned hard like I was trying to melt a hole through her head. She shrugged and leaned against the wall.
“They were going to find out eventually. And they deserved to know.”
I sighed, hating how right she was. “After what you guys went through to put him there, I was afraid how you were going to react. Besides, we were together the minute he was released from whatever facility patched him up. Things went south the minute he saw me and I didn’t put two and two together until I saw him hanging around other girls.”
“What a jerk,” Jirou mumbled in agitation. “But you know the longer you keep this from the boys, the worse the bounce back will be. And it’s not like he’s known for holding out on bad news from his brother.”
“Shoto will be the first to know, and his rage will be everlasting.”
I shrank back at the thought of hearing Shoto yell directly at you. Anger was a rare emotion for him to display as he had been done with his father’s everything since the day he started school. He had grown numb to the pain of being abused, which hurt you to think about it.
Mina turned to me with her arms crossed against her chest. “So what are we going to do?”
“See if you and the others can keep Dabi as far away from his brother as possible. This seems like something you should involve Deku in. I know he’d understand.”
It was at that moment the phone rang. Not the phone for the agency, my personal phone. I didn’t even have to look at the caller ID to know it was Dabi. Jirou nodded for me to take the call and cracked her knuckles like she was about to punch it. Froppy and Mina burned holes through the screen.
I picked up and put the phone on speaker. “Birdie-cat,” Dabi cooed with his scratchy, deep voice. “Where are you?”
“Why do you need to know,” Jirou growled.
He paused. “Are you out with the girls on your day off? Tell me where you are so I can drop–”
“Dead? Drop dead, is that what you were going to do? That would’ve saved us a lot of trouble,” Mina countered with a scoff.
“Hang up now, Dabi. I don’t want a thing to do with you.”
“Now is that any way to speak to your husband?”
I froze. He’s never used those words to describe my relationship. Not when we were dating and definitely not in the phone call he gave me this morning.
“What do you mean ‘husband’? I might as well be married to my bosses.”
He chuckled dryly on the other end. “You don’t remember? Or did your father hide it? He and my dad were best friends. They were so close, in fact, they wanted to combine the family’s assets with an agreement.”
My heart plummeted in my chest with slow realization. “What deal?”
“You would marry me the day we both turned 18. I already signed the deal when the fiery bastard wasn’t looking after the accident. And if you remember, you signed a paper when you turned 18.”
The memory of your parents forcing you to sign an agreement stating you would never grace the doorstep of their house once you moved out flashed to the forefront of your mind. You never came back to the house. But they were emphasizing you would move out in a different way.
“No,” you whispered in shocked disbelief.
“Yes. You’re married to me, darling. So tell your husband where you are.”