she’s deaf to the sirens, blind to his injuries. She’s cradling him gently, lovingly, humming a song — nothing special; a theme song from a cartoon he used to love. Her cheek rests gently against his head, rocking gently. He’s in her arms again. in this moment, all she can think is that to rip the same child from his mother’s arms twice is a cruelty she could never forgive. Her voice shakes, but her grasp around him is tight. “it’s going to be alright, Touya.” She whispers, brushing sweat from his brow. “I’ve got you. Mama’s got you. I won’t let you go, this time. I’ll never let go again.”
she’s shaking, she’s cold. just like she always was. his head against his chest and idly feeling her heart beating, eyes vacant and staring towards the ceiling, sirens drowning out the hum he wish he could place. sazae-san ?? he thinks it is, touya can’t think entirely straight at this moment. his hands were throbbing, dull pain, his joins ached and his mouth was dry. he needed water, but there’s no way in hell he’s about to ask to move. this is the one thing he’s wanted, his family, his mother, to see his face, recognize him. to think, dabi spent years of his life running from them, avoiding them like the plague, only to yearn to be held again like he was a child, his mother cradling him ... the concept scared him in concept, in theory. in reality, it’s causing him to dissociate, think about the years she must’ve spent by herself while he escaped and planning the big moment where he’d expose their secrets for everyone to see.
hair been covered in ash to hide red streaks that were bleached red by the stress of trauma and wishes to fade from existence. blue eyes, heavy as they drag from tiled ceiling to mother as she speaks.
it’s going to be alright, touya.
i’ve got you. mama’s got you.
i wont let you go, this time.
it makes him laugh, dry and humourless, once and fading into the nether. if he wasn’t hurting so badly, it’d probably spark more. quiet giggles, delirium as he shuts his eyes and coughs between them. warm hand of touya’s moved from where it was grasping her arm to find one of her hands, dull heat thawing her frigid digits. how he wanted to argue with her, remind her that he’s a murderer. killed her husband, the man who abused her and her children, the number one hero, along with upwards of thirty innocent people.
i should be no son of yours.
he thinks, eyes shutting as sirens blaring gets louder. sounds of engines dying down signals to him, his time’s up. touya todoroki’s being dragged to the highest security prison, never to see the light of day again, never to live the life with his family he deserved to live. being ripped away from his mother in the cruelest fashion, and he knows whatever hell they’re going to get from rei will only fuel his heartache further.
don’t mistake his pain for regret. truth is, if he had to do it again, he would. if there was another endeavour, if enji todoroki lived, he wouldn’t ease into the police’s desires. touya would rip himself from his mothers arms and disappear again if it meant the ending to their suffering, a different expose on how enji ruined his family’s life and no amount of atonement will ever fix that, despite how hard he tries.
it’ll never be good enough.
touya’s breathing is shallow and quiet, tilting his head a bit just to be closer to her. she’s as cold as the winter’s nights and he’s a raging furnace due to hell flames licking his insides, but he’s never felt warmer. safer, despite knowing he’ll be in handcuffs and jumpsuit soon. “rei,” he croaks out, voice raw and tired. almost human again. “you have to let me go.”
he knows she doesn’t want to. he doesn’t want this, either. never once did he think he’d yearn for this, yearn for his family to embrace him past recognizing his features, but once he’s gotten it, he doesn’t want to give it up. but dabi staying around would only cause more strife, more grief. they’d never live in the peace touya wants for them if he tried to be a part of the family. he doesn’t want to, anyways.
“mom.” it’s the first time he’s said that, called her that, in a decade, “you have to let me go.”
