#because this one has too much strees and pain in it for them to be able to do it

[money-and-dandellions]

Lester would definitely put Meg in a shop cart and run with her in it through the aisles and then at the parking lot and they would laugh feeling freedom in their hearts and how everything else vanished away for a few long seconds

[wordsandshawn]

Before Now - chapter 16

previous chapters

in this chapter: What happens when the past catches up... 

warnings: swearing, verbal abuse, physical abuse, mentions of past trauma, emotional manipulation. 

16. 

It’s been a few days since that conversation with Shawn about professionalism and me remaining on tour. Since then, things have been relatively uneventful, thankfully. Shawn and I have finally settled into a routine of focusing on the work that has to be done. True to his word, he hasn’t gone out of his way to check on me or anything like that, and I’ve been able to work on improving my photography skills without anything else getting in the way.

If I’m honest, I’ve stayed as far away from Shawn as possible whenever possible because I don’t want to give anyone a chance to talk or make other unwanted comments about me online. Even though I told myself it wasn’t a good idea, I couldn’t help but notice all the comments and opinions over the pictures of me and Shawn in the café. Even though I’ve been trying to minimize any opportunity for comment, just being here on tour with Shawn has created a lot of talk about me and the ties I have to Shawn, but that’s something I know I’ll have to learn to deal with. 

The venues are pretty much always in relatively large cities, and I can normally find at least one coffee shop within walking distance, so it has become my little tradition to spend some time in coffee shops at least once or twice a week since tour started. Coffee shops used to be my outlet at Uni, and I spent so much time in them studying or grabbing coffee with friends. So now, even though there are so many different ones, they still manage to feel comforting and a little bit like home, which I welcome since the constant travel can feel really disorienting. Even if I just slip away for a short time to grab coffee or steal a couple hours to edit, I enjoy the walk and the time to clear my head and get away from the chaos of backstage or the monotony of the tour bus.

Today is no different, I’ve ordered my drink and found a table off to the side where I can edit for a while. My drink is half empty and it’s getting closer to showtime, but I’m determined to finish putting together this video edit before I leave to head back to the venue. That way I’ll have something for Shawn and Andrew by showtime tonight if Shawn wants to post it. I’m so absorbed in my editing that I barely notice that someone is pulling the chair out across from me. My first thought is that they’ll ask to use the chair to put at another table, but the second my eyes finally look up to meet the person’s face, I freeze completely, my fingers still hovering over the mousepad on my laptop.

He sits down without waiting for an invitation, and I still don’t say anything. I’m in shock. He’s just sitting in front of me, after all the shit he put me through. After realizing that we were over and treating me like I was worth nothing. After telling me I wouldn’t be anything without him and that no one would ever love me. After showing me that I wasn’t worth loving and making me believe it for so long. After all of that and two months without any contact, granted I did block him on everything, he’s sitting across from me with that smug smile that I loved the first time I met him.

I’m still staring at him over the laptop in front of me. “What are you doing here?” It’s the only thing I can think to say to break the silence.

“I missed you.” He responds with that air of genuineness that I don’t buy anymore, but I used to lap right up. He knows how to say the right thing at the right time to get anyone to believe him, but I know better now. “You’re always talking about how you wanted me to make more of an effort, so I’m here. I drove five hours to come here, for you, for us.” He tries reaching across the table, but I move my hands to my lap, and he stops.

I stare back at him, blankly. “Gregory, there is no us anymore.” I remind him because it’s clear he doesn’t see this the same way I do. I quickly shut my laptop shoving it into my backpack. I grab the half empty cup of coffee before bolting from the table and leaving the coffee shop. He follows after me, calling my name. I’m not even sure what he expected to happen or how he found me in the coffee shop, but I also don’t really want to know.

“Skylar, wait!” He’s standing at the entrance to the coffee shop now, and I’m about a few steps away.

“What?” I question, turning around, suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of anger for all the shit he put me through and the way he showed no remorse about any of it, like he never really cared about me at all.  

“Come back inside? I just want to talk. You weren’t replying to my texts or calls.”

“We broke up.” I respond, as though it’s that simple when in reality, it’s not. It’s never that simple. My cheeks redden when I realize I’m standing on the sidewalk shouting this at my ex as people walk past me, pretending to mind their own business when I know they’re listening in, waiting to see what will happen next. A part of me is waiting to see what will happen next too because this all feels so unexpected and not even real. 

“I apologized. I came here to find you, to talk to you, so the least you can do is talk to me.” He responds, with that hurt look on his face that has made me fall back into him so many times, but not this time.

I shake my head at him, “I can’t, I have to work.” I respond weakly, finding the only excuse I can think of in the moment. I turn away from him without waiting for a reply. The street is crowded enough, and I force myself to look straight ahead as I walk towards the venue. When I reach the corner, I finally let myself glance back. I don’t see Gregory anywhere. He’s gone, at least out of sight, and I wonder if that encounter was just a hallucination. Maybe I am going crazy. Maybe the lack of sleep lately is getting to me, because if Greg really did come out here to find me, I can’t imagine he would just let me walk away like this.

Crossing the stree, I head back toward the venue, still nervously looking around and over my shoulder the entire way, half expecting for Greg to pop out of nowhere and scare me again. Only when I’m past security backstage in the venue do I finally let my guard down. I head into the Q&A room, which is set up, but no one is in here yet because there’s still some time before the Q&A starts. I take a seat on the ground to finish the work I wasn’t able to finish in the coffee shop, but my mind is still reeling from the encounter with Greg so I’m finding it nearly impossible to focus. It takes me an entire hour to finish something I should have been able to do in fifteen minutes, which only makes me feel even more frustrated.  

Even though I go through the motions for the rest of the night, I feel so anxious and unsettled. Finally, after the show is over, I’m relieved to be able to get away and go to sleep. Normally, I’d stick around backstage, getting footage and relaxing for a bit, but tonight I just want to be on the bus in my bunk, alone. I want to shower and sleep. The rest of the work and editing can wait until tomorrow. As I step out into the cold night air, I pull my sweater closer to my body, picking up my pace as I start walking toward the bus, which isn’t far from the venue exit, thankfully.

A voice cuts through the mostly silent parking lot, “Finally, it’s fucking cold out here.” If I wasn’t cold enough already, my whole body feels suddenly freezing, and I spin to search for where the voice came from. I don’t need to see him to know that it belongs to Gregory.

“How did you get back here?” I question, knowing full well that this area should be off limits to anyone who doesn’t work for the venue or belong to the tour crew, so the fact that he’s back here is a security issue in itself, not to mention the fact that now I’m alone with him. There’s no one walking past like earlier on the street, and everyone is still in the venue since the show just finished. 

Greg steps out of the shadows, and I try not to show that I’m afraid, but I am. As he steps closer to me, I can’t help but step back, trying to keep at least some distance between us. He smiles a sinister smile, “What, are you scared?” He taunts, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, “I just want to talk.” He’s close enough now that I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and if there was any chance I’d ever actually agree to talk to him, I know now that this is not a good idea, at all.

“What do you want to talk about?” I question, but my voice comes out barely a whisper, and I’m surprised that he even hears me.

“You and me.” He reaches for my hand, but I move it out of his reach and take another step back. Every time I step back, I get a little closer to the bus and I hope that someone will walk out from the building and see me, see us and ask what’s going on or at least stand to witness whatever happens next. 

“What about us?” I question, still just hoping to buy time and avoid getting him angry, at least until we’re not alone anymore.

“I know things weren’t perfect, but I loved you.”

I have to intentionally stop myself from rolling my eyes at him, knowing it would make him angry. “We broke up, remember?” I remind him again, trying my best to keep my tone even and keep my voice from shaking. It’s like he forgot everything that happened in the last few days before I moved back home. He always did have a tendency to conveniently forget things in a way that worked only in his favor.

“I thought we would get back together. It was just a hiccup. I can’t believe you just left.” He responds as though he has any right to be angry at me for what happened. 

“You slept with someone else and threw all my stuff outside when I confronted you.” I’m suddenly pissed and hurt all over again as these painful memories that I’ve been trying for so long to get over are suddenly rushing back to me at once. As hard to believe as it is, that was not nearly the worst thing he’s done or the most hurtful during our time together. It’s just that getting thrown out that night actually gave me the opportunity to leave and recognize that I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Sometimes, being in a situation for so long makes it difficult to recognize how toxic it actually is. Leaving, well getting kicked out, made me go back to my apartment where my roommates helped me see how dark things had gotten, and how broken and unsafe I actually felt with Greg.

“I made a mistake.” He insists. “Everyone makes mistakes. I’m not perfect!” He throws his hands up in a shrugging motion, but I can’t help but flinch away from the sudden movement. 

Even though I know that I shouldn’t be getting into this conversation right now, or ever really, I still respond. “That wasn’t even the first time you slept with her, that was just the first time I called you out on it.”

“I fucking told you Skylar, it was a mistake. I was the best thing that ever happened to you. You weren’t shit before you met me. And you think this Shawn kid is helping you. You think he gives a shit about you? He’s a famous singer, he doesn’t give a shit about anyone. I bet he just keeps you around for a good fuck.” He gets closer and closer as he shouts all of this at me, and I have to blink back angry tears. It takes everything in me to keep my composure.

My blood is boiling. I don’t feel cold anymore. Instead, I feel hot with rage. That fear I felt only seconds before is replaced with anger. My hands close into tightly balled fists that I keep securely at my sides, “Don’t talk about Shawn.” I respond, seething. I know that meeting Greg’s outrage with my own is not a great idea because that just escalates the situation, but I can’t help myself right now. How dare he say things like that about Shawn and about me. He has no right. 

The fight or flight instinct in me that originally led me to look for a way out of this situation is suddenly ready to fight. It doesn’t matter to me anymore that he could very easily hurt me and that he wouldn’t think twice about doing so. He has already hurt me. I’m tired of being hurt and silenced and broken.

He knows his effect on me. He’s practically taunting me as he steps closer. This time I stand my ground and speak the truth.  “We’re not together, so just leave.”

Greg laughs, loudly and obnoxiously. “I told you no one would want you. Stop fooling around and come back home with me. It’s where you belong.”

A sudden surge of boldness bursts through me, along with that desire to fight.  I’ve choked down my words on account of Gregory for so long, for too long. “Well you clearly still want me. Maybe because no one else wants you.”

His palm comes into contact with my cheek before I even notice he’s lifted his hand. The sharp pain and stinging sensation bring more memories back into my mind, memories I have been trying to forget for months. His face is inches away from mine, “Don’t speak to me like that.” He practically growls. 

My two hands come up in front of me before I can think of the consequences of retaliation. I don’t want him this close, so I shove him back, hard. “I don’t love you. I don’t want to talk to you. Leave me alone!” He stumbles a bit. He’s drunk, but I know from experience he could still overpower me if he really wanted to. 

It takes him a second to regain his footing, but I know that when the dizziness passes and he gets his bearings back, I’m in for something that I don’t want to be in for.

“Hey what’s going on here?” I hear Shawn’s voice carry across the empty lot. This distracts Gregory momentarily, but I don’t tear my eyes from him to look at Shawn, because I don’t trust Greg, not even for a second. I’m sure Shawn can sense the tension and even though this parking lot isn’t well lit, I know Shawn can tell that Greg doesn’t belong here.

“This is between me and my girl, so fuck off dude.” Greg says, turning to Shawn.

“I just heard her tell you to leave her alone, so I don’t think it is.” Shawn steps closer, and I realize he must have been standing outside for at least a few seconds before he spoke up. I always knew he was tall, but it almost feels like he makes himself even bigger than he is as he stares Greg down. If Greg is intimidated by Shawn, he doesn’t show it.

“Gregory, just go, please.” I whisper the last part. I can tell he’s already angry, but the last thing I need is for him to cause a scene. The last thing I need is to lose my job because he can’t keep control of his anger. I’ve already lost enough on account of his anger.

“Skylar just come with me.” He reaches for my hand, but I take another step back, my cheek is still stinging from the slap. I’m not going anywhere with him.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Shawn practically growls stepping between us. Shawn’s now standing in front of me, blocking most of me from Greg’s view, and I don’t mind. He takes a small step back, gently pushing me back too, creating more space between me and Greg and less space between me and Shawn.

There is silence between the two of them in a way that feels like a challenge, or like they’re sizing each other up. I’m terrified that Greg is just going to lunge at Shawn and they’ll get into an actual fight. My fingers wrap around Shawn’s forearm without me realizing it, and when I do, I’m not sure if it’s because I’m holding Shawn back just in case or if I need something to ground me and he’s the only safe person here. 

I can’t help but notice how this parallels the night we ran into Shawn in the bar and he came to my defense when Greg was drunk and acting out like he always was. I remember being frustrated at Shawn for getting involved that night, but this is diifferent. For these last five excruciating long minutes I’ve been standing out in the cold with Greg, all I wanted was for Shawn to burst through those doors.

“Skylar, go get on the bus.” Shawn mutters to me, although he never takes his eyes off Greg. His tone is low, even, and eerily calm, and somehow that’s the only thing that’s keeping me from breaking down completely in this moment even though my heart is beating wildly and adrenaline is coursing through me. I’m trying to process everything as my eyes dart between Greg and Shawn, I know that the way Shawn is feeling right now is not matching the way his voice sounds, but he clearly has a much better reign on his emotions than Gregory does.

“Just butt out, dude.” Greg responds. Shawn doesn’t move or respond to him, so Greg addresses me instead, “Skylar, don’t listen to him. I just want to talk. Just me and you. Let’s just go somewhere and talk, please baby.” Greg’s voice is softer than before, that voice he uses when he wants me to believe him. The one he’s used so many times before while convincing me that things will be better if I just forgive him, that he won’t do it again, that he really is sorry, that he loves me. I’ve heard that voice too many times to count, and I’ve fallen for it too.

Shawn doesn’t move or even react to what Greg just said to him or me, but I feel his muscles clench under my fingertips. He’s still positioned between me and Greg. “Skylar, get on the bus.” He repeats, his tone still sounding calm, but slightly more forceful this time.

I’m afraid to get on the bus because I don’t know what will happen between Greg and Shawn if I leave them here alone, but I’m about to break down, and I don’t want to be standing out here either. I hear the door to the venue opening, and this time, I turn to look at who it is because Shawn is still positioned in front of me, and I’m almost sure Shawn won’t take his eyes off of Greg.

I notice one of the crew members has stepped outside, and he looks confused by the scene he sees in front of him that’s looking a lot more like a standoff than anything else. 

“Call security.” Shawn says, his voice carries across the open lot loud and clear, not faltering even a little bit. His gaze still doesn’t leave Gregory, but the guy know’s Shawn’s talking to him. 

Without missing a beat or asking any questions, he speaks into his walkie talkie, “We need security in the lot, now.” 

“No, man. You don’t have to call security. Seriously, this is just between me and my girl and if you would just let me talk to her…” Greg is basically pleading with Shawn at this point, and I’m still frozen behind Shawn. Greg has sweet talked himself out of a lot of situations, but it doesn’t look like this is going to be one of them and for that I’m relieved. 

Now Shawn has an ally, meaning Greg is already double teamed, not to mention the security that is on their way. “You shouldn’t be here.” Shawn says to Greg.

At least two security guards rush through the doors before Greg even has a chance to respond, “Please escort him out,” Shawn says, in that same calm yet forceful voice. I watch as they approach Greg, and he fights against them. Once Shawn is content that they’ve got him, he spins around, looking at me, really looking at me for the first time since he stepped outside. He starts to say something, but I finally bolt, taking off toward the bus, like Shawn had told me to do several times earlier. I can hear Greg yelling at the guards. I know people have started flooding outside, wanting to know what the commotion was all about, probably hearing the call for security through the radios, but I can’t care less about them or what they might think right now. 

The tears are flowing freely down my face by the time I make it to the bus and yank open the door. I’m met by silence and an empty tour bus as the door slams shut behind me.

As much as I feel like collapsing right there on the ground in the front lounge of the bus, I force my feet to continue moving as I blindly make my way toward my bunk. It takes all my energy to hoist myself up into my bunk. I don’t even bother taking off my shoes. I just shut the curtain until I am surrounded by darkness, and I finally let myself break down completely.

.

Chapter 17

[leagueofidiots]

People keep referencing the one chapter of you're NNWM, what happened??

Shigadabi, but my subconcious was shipping Spinnerdabi on main in retrospect/ Magnetmagic briefly

Song fic for Billie Eillish's Listen Before I Go

Last two chapters, needs a little context, but all the important stuff is explained

I'll also include the chapter after because I'd feel bad if I didn't

WARNING!! I'M VERY SERIOUS!! THERE IS A SUICIDE ATTEMPT HERE!! I EVEN TRIGGERED MYSELF WHILE WRITING THIS, AND THAT IS VERY RARE!! BE SMARTER THAN ME, AND MAKE SURE YOU'RE NOT SITTING ALONE IN A DARK HOUSE AFTER SKIPPING TWO MEALS!! HUG A PILLOW!! GET SOME WATER!! BE CAREFUL!! 💜

•Take me to the rooftop•

Tomura's asleep next to me, face still turned up to the stars. We've been up here for about two hours, but he finally fell asleep.

The promised celebration was nice. We had it as soon as I was well enough to be close to normal as I could, which only took about a week. They learned how to make a few things from what Hawks gave us before the battle, which I ended up eating some of to make them happy.

They did end up having to take me to Ujiko. My burns spread, now uneven again. He says he'll bring my aesthetic back next time I go in to get my staples fixed. I agreed. There will be no next time, after all.

•I wanna see the world when I stop breathing, turning blue•

After Tomura brought me up here, we simply talked. No unnecessary emotional dumps. No tears. No drama. Just simple things.

And now he lies next to me, a bandage he tied around his pinkie allowing him to grasp my hand in his own. It's nice, I'll admit. Breathing in the cool air as I sense his every small movement.

The stars are beautiful tonight. We snuffed the flame of our lantern, though that was nice too, just to see them better. The city lights make it so there aren't many, but it's still a good night for the sky.

•Tell me love is endless, don't be so pretentious•

Careful not to wake him, I carefully pry my hand from my boyfriend's. I'll do what I need to do, but I'd rather him not be awake for this. It's my time, no matter what.

I'm ready for the end, and apparently whoever it is that decides my fate agrees. All I can hope for is that Tomura doesn't blame himself when they find me dead on the sidewalk tomorrow.

What will they do? At least I'm not their leader, but I do still have an influence on the league. Even as useless as I am now, surely they'll still react.

Standing at the edge. It's coming. The end of it all. I'll never have to think about any of it ever again. The brutal training my father put me through. My mother going insane. Burning. Ujiko's experiments. The streets practically eating me alive. Giran's guidance into crime. Killing my father only a week ago.

•Leave me like you do•

The news has been all over the case. Endeavor and Hawks found dead. Witnesses say it was Dabi that killed them. Both burnt to a crisp, Hawks with half-grown-in wings.

Dabi's body hasn't been found, not even a trace. They think he might have burned too, that the black and purple flames seen from outside the wall of blue may have consumed him entirely, taking even his ashes with him.

•If you need me, wanna see me•

And they're right. Dabi's dead. Lost in the flames. Dabi carried rage and purpose, and all he stood for was taken with my piercings and my skin.

Touya died with his innocence, along with his weakness. And now Dabi has followed with all of his anger. Everything that fuelled him, that kept him going, is gone now. So now I am nameless.

•Better hurry 'cause I'm leaving soon•

I wonder what they'll do when I'm really dead. Will the news care? Or will it just pass by like anything else?

They certainly care about the rest of the Todorokis. The thoughts of my mother and siblings make more sense to me than my own at this point.

Rei Todoroki. Wife of Enji Todoroki. Recently released from the mental asylum. Deep in grief. She's planning the funeral for a month from the day of his death. Their deaths. She's set up a shrine for her late husband next to the front door, though reports say it's more for his identity as a hero than the shrine for her son.

•Sorry can't save me now•

Fuyumi Todoroki. The daughter of Enji Todoroki. She says she can't grasp that her brother is dead. She says she feels it in her soul that he isn't. That it's freeing, her father's death.

•Sorry I don't know how•

Natsuo Todoroki. The son of Enji Todoroki. He's avoided all reporters. Hasn't left his room since getting the news. His family says that he and Touya Todoroki used to be close, and Natsuo was elated to hear he wasn't dead. All that is gone now. That his only consolation is that his family is safe from the pro hero.

•Sorry there's no way out•

Shoto Todoroki. Son of Enji Todoroki. He's been busy with school, so not a lot of reporters have been able to talk to him, but his grades are suffering. UA is considering making him take a year off to focus on his mental health.

•But down•

The family as a whole is in general agreement. It's a tragedy to them. Both deaths. And while Endeavor may have had a negative influence on them in life, and they feel safer with him gone, they still mourn his death.

And while it's a painful blow that Touya has died again as Dabi, it is also a good thing. He had turned villain after all. It's for the best.

Well, I guess they'll really get what they wanted. Touya, Dabi, and whoever I am now are about to be long gone.

•Down•

What were my last moments with each of them? I want to think of each of them before I go. I at least owe each of them a thought.

•Taste me, these salty tears on my cheeks•

Start easy. Eri and Butt. They were together on the couch, weren't they? Yeah.

Eri was tired. Once it hit around nine, she lay down on the couch, calling up the dog to curl up next to each other. There was almost a smile on her face as she drifted off, and Compress carried her in.

•That's what a year-long headache does to you•

Hawks. He had done things, after all. And it was my fault he was gone. Even if he was a traitor, he still did the best that a pro hero could do. It's not him I'm mad at. Was mad at.

His last moment was spent trying to get Endeavor to stop. For legal reasons, surely not because he cared at all. And then my father just had to burn him up, like everyone else in his way.

•I'm not okay, I feel so scattered•

Compress. Where had he been?

His date with Magne had been postponed once I ended up injured. He'd said I was more important. Like I had any importance. After he'd taken Eri to her room, he'd gone to bed, saying he wanted to rest for the date.

I wonder if they'll move it again when they find me? I hope not.

•Don't say I'm all that matters•

Kurogiri. Tomura was right, he really is good.

His last action towards me was pretty simple. Before he went to bed, he gave me a pack of beers that we'd ended up taking to the roof. Told me not to drink too much.

I probably should have respected that wish more. I'm on my fifth can. I don't regret it though.

•Leave me, déjà vu•

Spinner.

His last action hadn't been anything much. Just said good night. Still, before that he'd told me off to the side how proud he was of how much of their food I'd eaten.

•If you need me, wanna see me•

Magne. Bless her, I wish I'd said goodbye to them.

Tonight she was having problems with her stomach, so she spent her evening in her room. The last I saw of her was her smile as we did each others' eye liner.

She was very helpful during my healing process. Brought me the closest to normal out of anyone.

•You better hurry, I'm leaving soon•

Toga. What will Toga think of me when she sees? Will she hate me?

Toga spent most of her time singing karaoke with Jin. My final memory of her is the sound of her cheery voice as she spun around, nearly forcing her hairbrush down her throat as a makeshift microphone.

What was the song? I wasn't listening. I wish I had been so I could hum it to myself now.

•Sorry can't save me now•

Jin. I'm a terrible person.

After most people had gone to bed, he'd pulled me aside. Asked if I was okay. That it was okay if I wasn't. And you know what I did?

I lied.

And he'd smiled. Like I'd said something amazing. And he spent the next five minutes saying how happy he was that I was happy.

He'll definitely hate me when he finds me.

•Sorry I don't know how•

And Tomura.

Tomura.

Before he'd slept, he'd looked me straight in the eye, my hand closed gently in his, and he'd said he loved me. That he needed me.

I'm so selfish.

His red eyes shone beautifully as he'd said it, filling me with butterflies. They'd died as soon as he broke eye contact, but it was the first thing I'd felt since the attack.

I'd told him that I needed him too.

•Sorry there's no way out•

I'm glad I saw them all. That I can recall what our final words were. Their last smiles at me. That I can picture them all in my mind. It'll help me when it's time.

There's no way I'd be strong enough without it. Even now, a foot away from the ledge, I'm scared. The end.

•But down•

The end has always been a comfort. Something to look forward to. Whenever my head got dark, and I couldn't see a way out, I just reminded myself that there was an end that drew closer with every second.

•Down•

And here it is. Waiting for me a short drop and a few seconds away. Since getting up has already felt like an eternity, but the six steps from where I started aren't that far compared to the path of life I've been lost on for so long.

•Call my friends and tell them that I love them•

The league helped me find it. Find life. They showed me where I was, and they've led me to this point. I'll have to thank them when we all end up dead and I see them again. If I see them again.

•And I'll miss them•

Even before Shigaraki bribed us with those dumb gifts to stay in the bar and treat it like a home, I considered them a safe place. Safer anyway.

•But I'm not sorry•

And they kept me on the path I needed to be on. Kept me alive. For the most part, kept my additional burns to a minimum.

The streets never did that. They left me to defend those younger than me, even if only by a few years, at the cost of my life if need be.

•Call my friends and tell them that I love them•

If not for the league, if not for seeing that newscast when I did, Endeavor would still be alive and active as a hero. Life would still be a spiral with no clear end in sight.

•And I'll miss them•

I step onto the edge of the roof, looking down at the end. Like in storybooks. The villain dies, and they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

•Sorry•

I drape one leg over, closing my eyes. I'm ready for it. My ending. I lean forward.

And just as my eyes snap open and a feeling of paralyzing panic fills me with regret, it happens.

A hand, one finger bandaged, reaches out and grabs my wrist, leaving me dangling by a foot and an arm off the roof of the bar.

Shigaraki's arms feel strong. So strong compared to me. After he caught me, he didn't waste a second getting me down from the roof. I can't say I wanted to stay up there.

My whole life led up to that moment. Everything I went through was just to end it all. And then I didn't want to. Right at the last second. Is that weakness?

Shigaraki's heavy breathing of panic and sobs managed to wake somebody up, and eventually they've all filed out to the scene of the two of us sitting on the floor, Tomura holding onto me tightly, my sight fixed firmly into the distance.

"Shiggy, what's wrong?" asks Magne, rubbing her eyes. 

He doesn't answer, still clutching onto me, and I can't find it in myself to answer. "Be careful of Dabi's burns," warns Kurogiri.

I can't feel them. Even if I could, I don't think I'd care. He's anchoring me, and right now I desperately need that hold on reality. Still, he loosens his death grip.

"Did something happen?" asks Spinner, his hair cascading around his face.

"Well obviously something happened. No, they look peachy!" Jin plops down in front of us. "Dabi, did you…?"

I finally snap my gaze to him, staring at his masked face. "I'm sorry, Bubaigawara, I just---" 

His arms wrap around me too, pressing my face into his shoulder. "You don't have to be sorry," he says in a broken voice. I wait for his contradiction, but it doesn't come.

I hear Compress kneel behind us, pressing his hand on Shigaraki's shoulder. "He's okay, Tomura. We'll look out for him."

My boyfriend's body shakes, his available fingernails digging into my chest through the front of my shirt. "Dabi, please don't, please, you said you loved me, please don't leave me," says his quiet voice.

I feel awful. I hurt him for nothing. And Jin. And I can feel in the air that the rest of the league is slowly figuring it out too. It didn't even come to anything but hurt.

"Dabi, I swear, you need to stop being so blind," says Toga, sitting behind Twice. "You know that we love you, right?"

"I know," I whisper. "I know. I'm sorry."

Kurogiri sits to the side of me Tomura doesn't take up. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. You just wanted the easy way out of your suffering. There's nothing so terrible about wanting it to stop. I just hope you'll learn someday that we can help you end it in a way that will let you keep going after that."

I nod, reaching up one of my hands to place over Tomura's. Geez, I'm crying. Again.

"And even if it's selfish of us," says Magne, sitting herself next to Shigaraki. "You're good to have around. And not just for your quirk, either, so don't start that nonsense again."

Tomura grabs my straying hand. "Don't you ever pull that crap again."

I squeeze his hand. "I won't. I swear. Thank you for catching me." And I mean it. There's something in me now that I think I've been stuffing down.

I love these people. And while it does scare me because of all that's happened with those I've loved and trusted before, I don't think it'll end like that this time. I love them. And I want to keep going, even if for a while it's only because I have them, that's okay.

I love them enough that I want to keep living. To keep trying. Past all the pain.

"I wish you'd told us before now," says Spinner, tying his hair back to keep it out of his eyes. "Maybe we could have helped before it got to this."

"No, I knew," says Twice, face still pressed into my shirt, dampening it with his hot tears. "I knew, and all I did was give him a little slap on the wrist. You people are just blind!"

"No," I say, bringing my other hand to his back. "It's not any of your faults. If anything, you guys already helped a lot. Please don't blame yourselves for this."

Magne ruffles my hair gently. "It's nobody's fault. Sometimes things are just like that. What's important is that you're still here with us, and nobody got hurt."

"Did you want to talk about it?" asks Kurogiri.

I shake my head. "Nothing new. I just had it set in my mind as the only option. It got to be too much a while ago, and that's what I decided, so then once Endeavor was dead...I just sort of went on auto-pilot."

Toga smiles at me faintly. "Well, don't worry about it. Just a week ago I killed a guy on a whim; we all do weird stuff sometimes. That was a bad example, huh?"

Shigaraki grunts. "It kind of was. I'm in a weird mood though, so I'll allow it."

The next hour is spent in silence as Tomura cries the rest of his feelings out and we simply sit in the bar. It's not the same, but it's good. I feel lighter.

The next day brings awkwardness and hangovers, but it really doesn't matter. We're all just sort of happy to be around each other. Grateful.

Magne and Compress do end up going on that date, and they end up having a lot of fun apparently. Whatever Sako did must have been very impressive, with the amount of blushing Kenji was doing when they came back.

Tomura and I go on an official date too, a few days later. It's very nice. I really do love him.

And now, it doesn't really matter what we're doing as a group, or where or next mission will take us, because regardless of whatever it is, we're doing it together. And really, that's all I've ever wanted in a family.