Touch (Dabi X Reader)

Part 2: A Crack In The Armor

The pain came back, just as you said it would.   What you didn't mention was that the numbness would gradually fade away.  It might sound nice to some, but Dabi hated it. He felt like he was driving towards a cliff in slow motion, waiting for the crash, unable to turn the wheel.  He had no control.  He hated this feeling of helplessness and traded it for anger instead. Why did he even ask for your help to begin with?

His answer was given to him as soon as your quirk's effect finally stopped.  Dabi stared angrily at the empty pill bottles. It was amazing how quickly the brain adapted, his body acting as if he'd never had to deal with his damaged nerves before.  He had half a mind to hunt you down and demand you take care of it. He didn't, of course, pride the deciding factor.  The scars were his, a series of choices made, a patchwork flag he wore into battle.  They were his burden and a reminder of his fight; he wasn't going to give that up so easily.  Still, he couldn't deny the temptation that surrounded him like a cloud, even if all he did was entertain the thought.

Dabi waited all day for your visit until finally your characteristic knock on his door rewarded his patience.  He stood from his bed and cooled his features into their typical mask before opening the door. There you stood, keen eyes already assessing him.

"Can I come in?" you asked. Like the day before, he stepped aside just enough to let you pass.  He had discovered yesterday that he liked having your presence close to him... it gave his pulse a little rush.  He caught a whiff of your shampoo as you gingerly passed him and felt the softness of your shirt as it brushed against his own like a whisper.  His grip on the doorknob tightened.

As soon as Dabi closed the door behind you, you got started.  You were determined to be strictly business.  "How're you feeling?" you asked, keeping your tone even, the perfect balance of concern and professionalism.  Dabi wanted to laugh.  Were you always this serious?

"Like shit." He grinned. "That quirk of yours is potent stuff."

You couldn't help but let a grin escape in response to his candid words, a fracture in your hastily built armor.  "Not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."

"It's a compliment." He stated.

You felt your throat go tight.  Stay on task.  Stay on task.  You cleared your throat slightly as you averted your eyes from him.  "Well, let's have a look."

With a little less flair than yesterday, he removed his jacket like before, followed by his shirt as he turned around to display his back for you.

You could see that the bandages were seeped through.  You had laid them on thick since you knew you wouldn't be able to check on him as often as you'd like – he was still going out to do Shigaraki's bidding and you had others to look after as well.  You were planning on seeing him daily, but it looked like he'd need more.

Your little checkups were far from over.  You couldn't help but wonder what he thought about that.  You honestly weren't sure what you thought about it yourself.

"I'm going to use my quirk and then change your bandages.  I'll check on you again tomorrow morning before you leave."

"How often do we have to do this?" Dabi asked.  His tone was difficult to decipher.  Concerned? Annoyed? ...Hopeful?

You cleared your throat again, desperate for a glass of water, as you began to remove the soiled gauze. "I'll probably visit you twice daily for the first week, then reduce it to once a day or every couple of days for the second week.  We'll see where we are by then.  It'll take at least a few weeks before it's fully healed.  That's only if you're good though, and don't go out and use your quirk for a bit."