Chapter Text
“You have to be joking, right? This is a prank? This is definitely a prank, I’m not that fucking gullible-hey! I’m serious!”
Shigaraki couldn’t help but listen, it wasn’t that hard to hear him through the thin walls of their apartment.
He’d been on the phone with someone for almost an hour, and about halfway through the arguing started. Normally, he’d just answer the call in front of Shigaraki; he didn’t have much to hide. Yet once he looked at the caller ID, he fled the room with his skin sickly pale.
Dabi hadn’t told him much about his home life, and Shigaraki never pushed. He did mention why he changed his name and talked about his siblings often, but never his father. He’d only heard bits and pieces, and the rest was easy. He turned off broadcasts about Endeavor, he changed his number frequently, he only had two keys to his agency, and not to mention the names he screamed at night.
It wasn’t too difficult to put two and two together.
And now, he was in a room, yelling about something he couldn’t possibly guess.
“Come on man, you know I-the dorms are almost built! Why doesn’t he just stay with the green one?…I can get that, but you must have room! Or Fuyumi! Anybody-oh I’m being selfish? I have a life now, a real fucking life! The last thing I need is to have him trying to wring my neck even more than usual!”
His voice shook with anger, fear soaking through the floorboards of his words. He’d only heard him this upset once before, and it wasn’t a very fun drive home after that. He refused to speak after they released him from the hospital, and he didn’t try until he was seated with Shigaraki in bed, sobbing.
“I know he’s just a kid, but the hero-guardian lifestyle clearly isn’t working. If he stays with you or Fumi, he’s less exposed. The press will-…oh fuck you! I’m clearly thinking of him! If the press gets a hold of him, you know what’ll happen.”
Shigaraki found himself shuffling away from the table, his latest gadget forgotten. The door to the room Dabi was in wasn’t quite closed, allowing for a small sliver of his partner to be exposed.
Dabi’s entire body was shaking. His thick red and black locks lay messily over his scalp, tickling the edge of his sculpted jawline. The small pink patches that marked his burns stood out against the paleness of his flesh. The phone was balanced between his shoulder and ear, fingertips dancing with flames.
“I’m fucking scared, Natsu. He doesn’t know me that well, and what if something happens while he’s here?…Yeah, I know, I’m a pro and all, but I don’t know how to handle this kind of shit. Are you positive there’s no other way?”
The flames extinguished quickly, smoke puffing from his palms. A shaky breath followed.
“Okay. Bring him tonight, he can stay until the dorms are finished, or until I combust.”
The phone slid from his shoulder, bouncing lightly on the bed. His brilliant blue eyes remained locked on the dresser across from the bed; his hero costume lay across the top in its haphazard glory.
For being a pro, he sure was nonchalant.
Shigaraki didn’t mean to stare, he knew it was an invasion of privacy. And yet, he couldn’t seem to look away as Dabi slid off the bed and onto the floor, anger dancing in his irises as he burned holes in his costume with his gaze.
His hands were clenched tight with small blue flames licking at the crevices between his fingers. Heavy breaths shoved their way through his lungs, his body shaking with unseen ferocity.
“I can hear you, Tomura.”
He went to leave, muttering constant apologies, but he spoke before he could get the chance to exit.
“Endeavor’s being investigated.”
Shigaraki slowly pushed the door open. He plopped down on the floor next to Dabi, mouth shut and ready to listen.
“He’s at the police station right now, and isn’t allowed to see Shoto. He has to stay out of the house, and nobody else can take him.”
Shigaraki nodded, laying his palms face up. He wasn’t about to touch him without warning, he just wanted to provide the invitation.
Dabi didn’t pull his gaze away from the costume in front of him. He let his body shake, not even bothering to move from his position.
Shigaraki had seen him in so many states, but this was new. He’d held him when he came back from a patrol that ended in a funeral invite. He’d listened as he screamed as loud as his lungs would allow when he came home from another goddamn meeting about his connection to Endeavor. He’d sat with him in silence as he tried to ground himself, digging his nails into the couch cushions and reminding himself that he wasn’t there anymore, he was home now.
And yet, he’d never seen him so unsettled.
“He’ll be staying with us. Here. In this apartment.”
Shigaraki watched as his knees drew up to his chest, fingers finding their way to his bicolored scalp. They latched onto his head and pressed, trying to find solace in dull pressure that would eventually melt into pain.
“He’ll be here with me. With us.”
Loud breaths filled the room. He never took his eyes away from the hero costume.
“I can’t-I don’t think I can do this, Shig. I fucking can’t. He’s too-I never-I was such a-“
“You’re scratching.”
Shigaraki hesitated before his hands met the frantic wrists allowing his nails to rake across the skin of his skull.
“You’re worked up, Dabi, and you have every right to be, but let’s try to calm you down first.”
Dabi didn’t even have to look at him to see the pity lacing his expression. He could feel it along with his deep anxiety.
“He won’t be safe with me. He’ll never be safe with me. I’m a mistake, I’m a horrible hero that can’t even protect his own fucking brother from that-that monster-“
Shigaraki took his hands away from his head, thankfully not seeing more than a speck of blood. “You’re not a bad hero, Dabi. You’re a good hero, and a good brother-“
“I’m not! I was too caught up in hating him that I couldn’t even bring myself to help my little brother. I thought he was too much like him, I couldn’t see how bad it really was because I was too caught up in how bad it was for me.”
His words were choked sobs, ripping past his scarred lips. “I’m selfish, and he doesn’t need someone else to try and make up for their mistakes right in front of him.”
Two arms pulled him to the side, encasing him in a cool embrace. “There’s no right or wrong response to trauma, Dabi. You did what you could to survive and get out. Now please, you’re fucking smoking.”
Dabi shook in his grasp, words lost in the mushy mess that was his thoughts. He simply listened to Tomura speak.
“Right now, he just needs someone to be there, and that’s you. You’re a good hero, I know it. Now just try to breathe, can you do that for me?”
It took a few minutes of sobbing to get Dabi to work out a regular breathing pattern. When he finally did, Shigaraki helped him off the floor. “Come on, let’s clean up that spare room so he doesn’t have to sleep on the couch.”
—-
Dabi stood still when he heard Shoto knock.
It wasn’t too loud, a very polite knock if he’d ever heard one. And yet, you’d think he was shot in the leg from his reaction alone.
The entire apartment was cleaned and kid-proofed. He’d boxed up any alcohol bottles and his ‘spare’ cigarette packs were locked up with them. Dabi even locked away his pill bottles. He didn’t need Shoto to know he relied on little pills to keep him asleep at night.
He’d spent so long trying to make the apartment seem put together that he didn’t even think of trying to keep himself presentable.
“Dabi, it’s fine. You have to let him in sometime.”
It took a lot more physical prompting than Shigaraki would have liked. He did eventually make it to the door, his hands shaking fiercely as he tried twice to turn the knob.
After his third attempt, the door finally opened.
Shoto was standing in the doorway, a backpack in his hands and another slung over his shoulder. He had a small scuff mark on his unmarred cheek and a butterfly bandage adorning his forehead. It wasn’t much compared to how banged up he remembered him being.
Neither spoke for a few moments, just reveling in the sight.
He didn’t remember much from his brother. Only how he always came running to their father whenever he called, never bothering to finish whatever he was doing. He was at his beck and call.
And now, he was standing in his doorway, wearing a too-big shirt and his eyes wide.
“You…dyed your hair.”
Dabi found himself at a loss, unsure of how to respond. Sure, he didn’t have any greetings lined up, but that was a weird one.
“Yeah, I did. Whose shirt is that?”
He watched his little brother’s cheeks brighten, one hand reaching up to touch the material as if he was just seeing it for the first time. “Midoriya’s.”
“That kid you beat at the sports festival?”
He only nodded, eyes meeting his own.
Dabi stepped back to provide space for Shoto to move in. He watched his brother shuffle into the apartment, flinching as the door closed behind him.
“It’s…clean.”
“Yeah, I cleaned a bit before you came.”
He simply stood in the doorway and watched Shoto, every muscle rigid. He was here. He was in his home, shaking and unattended by anyone but him. After years of radio silence on both ends, they were stuck together.
“Dabi, is everything alright?”
Both turned to see Shigaraki standing towards the edge of the room. He had tea bags in his hands, cradled by eight fingers.
“Yeah, we’re fine.”
He cleared his throat after speaking, turning back to the heterochromatic boy.
“This is Shigaraki. He’s my boyfriend.”
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
“Now you do.”
Dabi tried to fight the anger surging through his veins, knowing his father still held his isolationist principles. Everybody knew Pro Hero Dabi was with his personal equipment designer, it made the news every so often.
Endeavor was making a point of keeping him out of his life.
“It’s nice to meet you, Shoto. You can set your stuff down for a bit if you’d like, or in your room.” Shigaraki nodded to the empty room closest to the corner, the door open to reveal its plainness.
“Our room is closest to the door.” Dabi turned back to see his brother still trying to adjust to his surroundings. He looked like he was trying to scan the room for the entrances and exits, like Dabi found himself doing every so often.
He was still on edge.
“You’re safe here, really. If you want we can just stay at the agency.”
Shoto tried to respond, only to find himself fumbling for words that wouldn’t arise. He simply nodded, making his way to the room Shigaraki mentioned. He felt uncomfortable; he was practically a stranger to the man. He couldn’t remember any interactions they had after mom left, and then there was ‘the fight’, but his memories of Touya were far apart. When he finally became Dabi, they stopped communicating all together.
The room itself wasn’t much, just a bed and a dresser, but it felt more homely than his room ever had.
There was effort put into it, even if it was small.
—-
“He looks so different.”
Shigaraki watched Dabi stare at the now closed door, his eyes wide. “He looks so…damaged now. When I knew him, he was just so small. Happy. The man didn’t have a chance to crush him fully just yet, he was still set on trying to bring me up. Shoto hadn’t presented his quirk yet, and he was so…”
His body collapsed onto the couch. He was falling apart right in front of him.
“I can’t do this, Shig. He hates me, I know he does-“
“He doesn’t know you yet. You haven’t talked to him in years. Give him time, he’ll come around.”
He sat with his companion on the couch, trying to comfort him as exhaled small clouds of smoke.
“I left him alone just because I was so scared of what the old man might do, and now-he’ll fucking kill me. He’ll kill us both. I can handle it, but not him. He’d crush him.”
His hands curled up in his hair again, scratching away at his scalp.
“I can’t let him kill him and I can’t protect him. He’s not safe with me, I’ll get him killed-“
“Dabi, you’re panicking.” “Yeah, I am!”
He curled up into a tight ball as his fingers met damp skin. He’d broken it again.
“I’m so fucking scared, Tomura. I couldn’t protect him then and I can’t now. I’m-“
“Touya?”
Shigaraki looked up to see Shoto standing with his eyes wide, one hand outstretched to his brother. His fingers curled in once he realized touch wouldn’t go over well.
“He’ll be okay, Shoto, he’ll be with you in a-“
“I did this, didn’t I?” He let his hands hold each other in front of him, his pupils never leaving the panicking form in front of him. Dabi couldn’t seem to react; he was too entangled in his own dread.
“It’s not your fault, he just-“
“Dad’s always been a scumbag, but it shouldn’t be your problem, Touya. Trust me, I tried to stay out of your life as much as I could.”
A deep sigh pressed past his lips as he fumbled for words, still scared by his brother’s apparent breakdown.
“You have a life now, and I’m just a reminder of every painful thing you ran away from.”
Dabi stopped scratching, hands pulled into Shigaraki’s protective grip.
“I can go. I’ll tell the police I’m staying with you, and I’ll just stay at home. Nobody has to know-“
Dabi snapped up towards his brother, eyes aglow with newfound concern. “I’m not leaving you, not again.”
He tried to bring himself down to earth. His breathing was still too fast, and he couldn’t really feel his fingers, but he tried to stay grounded. He was being selfish; Shoto had just been ripped from his home and exposed so deeply and Dabi was the one panicking. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He’d scared his brother so much already, but the idea of seeing his father’s face again horrified him to no end.
“You’ve taken so much shit from him, and you’re finally getting a chance to leave him behind. I won’t fuck that up for you.”
Shigaraki slowly pulled his hands towards his body, trying not to notice the amount of blood decorating his nails.
“I think we should all eat something and try to get some sleep, we can deal with this in the morning.”
Both parties agreed soon after, Shoto going to settle while Dabi let Shigaraki pull him off the couch and into their shared bathroom.
The blood was just a little too much for his liking.
—-
Shigaraki made tea.
He wasn’t the best at homely things, neither of them were. Dabi often collapsed the second he returned or simply dragged Shigaraki to bed, and on his days off he was too exhausted to really find time to be domestic. Shigaraki was awkward enough that every attempt was weird and uncertain enough to prevent him from trying again.
And he still figured out how to properly make tea.
“We’re not too fancy here, but we can whip something up. What do you like?”
Dabi felt his chest sink, realizing the depth of his question. He had to ask him what foods he liked. He’d lived with him for years, and he didn’t even know what his brother’s favorite food was.
“Soba, but anything’s fine.”
He likes Soba.
It’s a start.
Dabi filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil. “It’ll be the shitty store brand kind, but that works for me. Shig?”
He only received a nod, realizing just how awkward he seemed to feel around him.
Shigaraki had forced himself to be the adult earlier since Dabi was too busy losing his shit. What a lovely addition to his ever-growing guilt.
“So, you still at UA Sho?”
“Yeah, I’m in my second year.” He looked around the small kitchen, eyebrows knit together. “If you’re a pro and make a lot of money, why live in an apartment?”
Dabi shrugged, following Shoto’s observant gaze. “I like simplicity. It’s nice only having a little bit of space to look after-easier to control and protect.”
He’d spent so long trapped in a house full of space, he couldn’t stand to be in another house like that. There was too much room for disaster in that building. It hardly counted as a home.
“I figured you just spent the paycheck on booze or something.”
“Sorry squirt, I prefer blowing my compensation on cigars, expensive women and cheap scotch.” He gave a dry chuckle, pretending not to notice how his humor went completely over his sibling’s head. “I keep it locked up.”
The kettle started to whistle, signifying the water’s boiling point. “Well, water’s-“
Shoto was curling up in his chair, eyes locked on the steam rising from the spout.
“You good, kid?”
Dabi tried to understand how the whistle of steam was scaring him, Shigaraki rising from his seat. “Shoto?”
They watched as Shoto tensed up tighter, his fingers digging into his pants. He couldn’t seem to focus on his elder brother’s words, or the figure standing beside him, or even the heat pooling in his face. All he could hear and see was that kettle.
“Sho, come on, what’s going on? Talk to me-“
Their mother.
Dabi didn’t remember much, but he remembered taking out the trash after his mother was sent away and seeing a steel grey tea kettle shoved into the bag.
He never thought to ask.
When Shoto came into his room for the first time in weeks, face cradled in his palms, he didn’t ask what did it, or even who. He just held him and let him sob. The way a brother should.
“Is it the kettle, Sho?”
He got a stiff nod in response. He’d seen this expression before, up close and personal. It was the face retired firemen made when they heard wood crackling with embers glistening in the logs. It was the face heroes made when they heard a siren on television. It was the face Tomura made when he saw that little girl with a black ponytail at the park walking her dog.
It was the face he made when he heard his father’s name.
He practically threw the kettle in the sink before throwing himself to his knees in front of Shoto.
“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. You’re safe in here, okay? I wouldn’t let anybody in here who could hurt you.”
Except me.
His hands moved up to his cheeks, hovering above the skin. “I’m going to touch your face, and if you want me to stop, then stop me.”
Shoto pulled away as fingers met his warm cheeks.
“Okay, not the face. Got it. Can I touch your hands?”
Shigaraki stood, amazed, as Dabi reacted without hesitation. He wasn’t showing the blatant fear he was before when he was alone, or the panic when Shoto left. Anytime his brother was upset, he seemed to override his own anxiety and put his brother first.
And right now, he was just holding his hands, whispering to him in a calm voice.
“Feel how cold my hands are?”
He felt his eyes well up with tears that weren’t there. Shoto never seemed to cry anymore, but he felt like tears might break free at any moment.
“I don’t feel like him, do I? I’m not here to hurt you, Shoto. It’s just me, Touya.”
Shigaraki knew just how much it hurt him to use the name. He cringed when reporters used it, and hated doctor’s offices with a burning passion just based on the paperwork. And here he was, putting it aside so blatantly.
“It’s just big brother Touya, I’m right here.”
Shoto managed to start breathing regularly after his brother coached him through it, exaggerating his own breathing to help him find a pattern. He ran his thumbs over the tops of his hands, whispering calm encouragements when he finally calmed himself. He latched onto the big brother role quickly.
“You think you can eat something?”
Shoto nodded slowly, grabbing Dabi’s hands as he tried to stand.
Shigaraki immediately moved to the stove, filling a small pot with water and setting it on top.
“Can you just…stay here for a minute?”
Dabi gave a small nod, acting like he couldn’t feel Shigaraki’s eyes on him.
“I’ll stay here as long as you need me to.”