Chapter Text
Tomura flinched against the barrage of debris kicked up by the windstorm that surrounded him. Rocks pinged against his arm with unsettling force. He struggled to move against the wind, struggled to hear the muffled voices against the roaring in his ears, when the cold bite of steel cut through the chaos.
Tomura blinked his eyes open, the dream fading as his senses slowly came back online. As the roar subsided, the tension eased from his muscles. “Hello?” he said drowsily.
The murmur of voices. The smell of microwave popcorn. Twice’s steady breathing - Tomura had apparently fallen asleep on his shoulder. He was in the safehouse. So then why did his arm hurt?
He looked around, forcing his eyes to focus, and saw Toga hovering over him, blood dripping from the point of her knife. His blood.
Toga tilted her head in confusion. “I stab you in your sleep and you respond with ‘hello?’”
Tomura scowled. “I fall asleep and you stab me?”
“To be fair,” Twice said, “that wasn’t her first reaction. You didn’t wake up when she poked you.” After a beat, he added, “Also, could you please get up? My arm’s numb.”
Tomura sat up with a groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “How long was I out?”
“Long enough for the movie to finish,” Compress said apologetically. “I’m surprised you slept through all the gunshots and explosions.”
“It was a lousy movie anyway.”
“At least you’re not the only one,” Toga added, pointing with her knife - still stained with Tomura’s blood - at the other end of the couch. Dabi was slumped over, his head resting on Hawks’s shoulder. Hawks, despite perching on the arm of the couch, looked surprisingly comfortable, his wings hanging limply to the side.
At Toga’s raised voice, Dabi and Hawks blinked awake. In synchronized panic, their eyes flew open wide and they reeled back. Hawks fell gracelessly to the floor with a thud. “I’m okay,” he squawked immediately, followed by a sheepish, “Ow.”
Spinner stepped into the room, two bags of microwave popcorn in hand, and froze, his eyes darting as he took in the scene, not sure what to comment on first: Tomura bleeding, Toga holding a bloodstained knife, Hawks on the floor, or Dabi grinning wickedly and snapping a picture of the disheveled hero.
“You all need therapy,” he declared finally. Then, with a sigh, “I need therapy too, because none of this fazes anymore, and that’s a problem.”
“I’m sorry I stabbed you,” Toga said, her voice softer than usual. “That was rude. Here…” Reaching into her pocket, she fished out a Care Bears bandage and gently applied it to Tomura’s stab wound. Tomura watched her with detached amusement.
“Wait-” Hawks sat up, pushing his hair out of his face. “Stabbed?” His brow furrowed in concern as he studied Tomura.
“Only a little,” Tomura assured him, lightly applying pressure to the wound.
“The bleeding’s slowing down a lot,” Toga added.
Hawks steepled his fingers. “Toga,” he said patiently, “we do not stab friends, especially friends with heart conditions. Tomura, are you feeling okay?”
Tomura blinked slowly. He checked the heart monitor he wore around his wrist. His heart rate had barely changed.
His fingers itched with the near-constant urge to reduce it to dust, but he knew it was either this or one of Hawks’s feathers, and he’d rather stick pins under his fingernails than let that bird eavesdrop on his internal organs. “I’m fine. I’m going back to sleep now.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Twice scolded, holding Tomura upright with one hand. “You’ve been sleeping all day.”
“It’s these damn beta blockers,” Tomura complained, slumping forward and cradling his head in his hands. “When can I stop taking them?”
“Two weeks,” Spinner said.
“I’m gonna go die now.”
“Nope,” Dabi said, shaking Tomura back to some semblance of wakefulness, though his movements were sluggish with exhaustion. The scars under his eyes stood out more than usual, revealing the sleepless nights he had endured since the battle.
“Okay,” Spinner said slowly, “is there anyone here who’s not hanging on by a thread?”
Silence.
“Excellent,” he said flatly, setting the popcorn down on the milk crate that served as a coffee table. “Breathing still hurts, and I get winded going up the stairs. Add me to the list.”
Twice’s eyes swept over the group in dawning horror. “Don’t tell me I’m the most functional one here.”
Compress offered a wry smile. “I’m fairly functional when it’s not a bad pain day. Today is.”
Toga sighed. “I’m just… tired, and I don’t know why.”
Hawks slowly raised his hand. “I feel fine, all things considered.”
Dabi snorted. “You fell asleep on me and then fell on the floor. I’m not sure which is worse.”
Hawks slowly lowered his hand.
Tomura looked around at the ragged group. “What a damn sight we all are. We’ve been nerfed hard.”
The silence that fell over the room was heavy enough that Tomura felt himself sag under the weight.
“You were prepared to die back there,” Dabi said bluntly. “Not just prepared for the risk, you thought it was inevitable.”
“Yeah,” Tomura admitted. “And you… you were dressed in burial clothes.”
“Yeah,” Dabi said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Toga squeezed onto the couch between Tomura and Dabi. She drew one knee to her chest and rested her chin on it. “Death is, like, a whole thing. A process. When someone - person, animal - thinks they’re gonna die, they don’t just freeze - they collapse. Their body shuts down.”
Compress tilted his head. “That’s… surprisingly insightful, Toga.”
Toga stuck her tongue out at him, but her usual exuberance was subdued.
Compress continued: “Collapse is a good word for all of us lately.”
Toga sighed. “Animals can just snap out of it. They run around for a little while, then they’re back to normal. Lucky them.”
“Running around is the last thing I want to do,” Dabi groaned. “Doesn’t seem to be working out too well for Hawks, either.”
“What, you think I want to be doing all this?” Hawks protested. “If you think my schedule is packed, you should see President Mera. A lot of things are changing, and someone has to make sure they change in the right direction.”
Tomura narrowed his eyes. “And you think you’re the guy who has to do it? You’ve always been the Commission’s puppet. Do you even have a single personality trait that isn’t propaganda?”
Hawks flinched, glancing away.
“Okay, can we please stop verbally sniping each other?” Twice pleaded. “We all feel terrible. This isn’t helping.”
“Agreed,” Spinner said.
Toga smiled faintly. “Hey Spinner, you seem to be doing okay except for the bad lung. What’s helping?”
“Just following the doctor’s orders,” Spinner said with a shrug. “Physical therapy. Walking. Breathing exercises. Moving my body helps as long as I don’t overdo it.” He looked meaningfully at Tomura, who had received the same instructions, although Tomura’s recent health scare had made him hesitant to exert himself.
With a heavy sigh, Tomura said, “Every evening, right? Around 6:30? Maybe I’ll join you.”
Spinner’s expression softened. “That would be great. I know the neighborhood looks like a whole lot of nothing, but the woods have a lot of walking paths.”
Toga straightened. “I’ve been exploring a bit by myself, but walking with you guys would be more fun. Since we’re not the League of Villains anymore, maybe we should be the League of Hikers.”
“Veto,” Tomura replied immediately.
“Count me in,” Compress said. “When my muscles allow it. Gotta save some of my energy for my next big performance after all, whatever it ends up being.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll join the hiking club,” Twice said, immediately followed by, “What a bunch of old geezers. Next you’ll be taking up birdwatching.”
Hawks’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of, I finally tracked down a crested ibis! That’s another one for the life list!”
Compress nodded in approval. “Oh, nice!”
Dabi groaned, cutting an annoyed glare at Hawks. “I can’t even find a damn wood pigeon. Show-off.”
Spinner chuckled. “Well, except for Hawks, we’re all technically retired. We might as well go the midlife crisis route while we’re at it. Why are you still sitting on the floor, by the way?”
Hawks made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and that was answer enough.