Maybe We'll fix Each Other

Chapter 10

"You really should take a break."

"Fuck off, doc," Dabi snapped back.

Dr. Nakamura ignored him and took a step closer, hand outstretched but hovering just above his elbow.

Dabi felt his legs shaking underneath him. And goddamn he hated the fact that he was currently bent halfway over the sink along the wall of his hospital room just to keep himself standing.

"The nurses tell me you've been pacing all day yesterday and this morning," she continued. "While I admire your drive, you can't push yourself this hard right away."

"I can do whatever the fuck I want," he answered venomously. "This is fucking pathetic." Dabi forced himself to straighten up, then turned and moved to make his way back to the bed.

He turned and dropped down heavily onto the edge of the bed, sending Dr. Nakamura a fierce glare when she held his arm to help him lower without falling forward.

She didn't look the least bit phased, simply returning his anger with a flat stare. He quirked an eyebrow and let out a huff, turning his face away without a word. She seemed tough enough to put up with his shit, and had managed to keep him around longer rather than dying from his infection. He could respect her. But not to her face.

"All the paperwork has been finalized," she said, moving over to sit on one of the chairs by the wall. "Your blood cultures are still negative, and your vitals and white counts have been normal for the past few days. All in all, you've made a good recovery."

Dabi grunted. "Good recovery my ass," he muttered angrily.

"Well, what did you expect?" Dr. Nakamura asked.

Dabi looked back towards her with his brow furrowed. When she simply stared back, he narrowed his eyes. He refused to answer that.

Dr. Nakamura let out a sigh and leaned back. "You almost died, Dabi. You needed medications to keep your heart beating properly. It's okay if your body needs time to get back to full strength," she said bluntly, but gently.

He cast his eyes to the floor. That was the problem wasn't it. His body would keep failing him, no matter how much he worked on honing his quirk or pushing through pain. Would...would the doctor know a way to help with that?

Dabi flicked his eyes up to her. They watched each other for a moment before he took a breath and decided to give it a shot. Worst she could say is no, right?

"Doc," he began. "I was wondering–"

Before he could continue, the door swung open abruptly, startling the pair inside.

Dabi's face instantly soured, and he sat up straighter just to look down on the heroes that entered the room. Aizawa was there, and out of everyone, Dabi supposed he didn't necessarily mind that.

But no. It was the fucking bug and some guy with glasses and green and yellow hair.

"Oh, joy," Dabi drawled, sneering at Centipeder.

"Don't start," Aizawa replied with a monotone, drawing Dabi's eyes to him. "Everything's in place. In order to transfer you your new quarters–"

"New cell," Dabi scoffed under his breath.

"--you warrant multiple hero escorts."

Dabi shook his head with a smirk. "Lucky me," he answered. He sent Centipeder a dirty look. "I just couldn't wait to chat with you again."

Centipeder looked like he was holding back a retort. It delighted Dabi that he was so easily irritated.

"Dabi," Nighteye said matter-of-factly, grabbing his attention. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "The following are the conditions of your agreement."