Stuck in rubble with the Enemy - Dabi x Male reader

Voice Grip

"It's when good people do nothing, that the bad ones win." 

-Alicia Keys-

(Note: When text is like this, it's a thought. 
When the text is "like this", it's Uult's internal Voice's (the sassy one) thoughts.
When Uult talks "like this", he's using his internal Voice's dark tone aloud.
Hope this makes sense.)

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Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...

Ringing. It was like thousands of doorbells were ringing in his craneum.

If headaches could split skulls, Uult would have died instantly. But he hadn't, so that was something good? He could still move, that counts as good news, but the ringing in his ears screamed, making his migraine worse. 

Forcing himself past the pounding, Uult vaguely recalled being pinned down (read: attacked) by some people in bright colors, protecting something, swearing — actually swearing! — in Norwegian and then...

Then, he blanked out.

The air was musky and heavy with dirt. Dust settled into brown hair, giving it an ashy-grey-tint. His eyebags were heavy and bruised-black. Fingertips and lips were blue, and heavy. Too heavy.

Damed dust.

Uult's eyes adjusted, pupils dilated, blinking the dust from tired lids. Then he felt it; the handcuff on his wrist. Uult groaned for the nth time, wishing he was back in his bed. Any comfy bed, like the one at home. Or maybe in an Ikea?

At least rocks won't be digging into my spine then.

He puffed, twisting to his side before coughing harshly. 

Voice? What happened? Am I dying?

"Get up. You have to get up. They're coming for us."

A stab of fear shook Uult's body.

Again?

Because his legs were fine (sort of, he noted) he shoot up as fast as he could, then, wavered. He had moved too quickly. He slapped a hand on his mouth, pressing and breathing painfully.

"Mrph!"

After the nausea faded slightly and his vision flickered back on, Uult focused on the physical. One, he was no longer surrounded. Two, he was alive. Three...Three...

Uult gazed drowsily around.

Through the fog-like clouds, he pieced together that the building behind him had been almost entirely demolished. Mismatched, powdered-to-dust rubble lay scattered everywhere around him and his quartz spikes stood up like hairs on a frightened beast.  There was a muddled shadow of black ash to his left; two to his right. 

Ignore. Ignore that.

Dust still filled the air and he was alone in the screaming, screaming, ringing, screaming—! Uult covered his ears in an attempt to block out the horrid sounds.

Do they ever stop?

Boom's and swooshes and lights flickered through the dust in small bursts, back-lighting a dark figure as it came closer. And closer. And closer. And closer.