Work Text:
Hawks slipped into the Commission apartment, letting the door close behind him as he ran a hand through his red-stained hair. Not daring to relax, not here, he carefully peeled his jacket off, wincing as it dragged across his raw wing nubs. His vision flashed of cerulean fire and eyes filled with rage and not even betrayal. Disappointment.
Fingers still aching from the last detaloning dug into the back of the sofa as he came back to the present. It’s time to call the time of death. Only muscle memory kept him moving, robotically hanging his coat on the rack to scrub later. Or dispose of. It was more red and burnt holes than brown at this point.
Hawk’s hand lingered, thumb catching on one of the distinct slashes. Admit defeat, there’s nothing left. The League was… the League was an interesting mission. That was all. It would always end eventually, and he was a fool for thinking any of them would accept a deal in the end.
Hawks peeled off his compression top, wincing at each snag drag across burns and other wounds the Comision considered superficial. Trying to ignore how the League treated each with equal importance. I let you down the final time. He’d treated himself for years before the League, he’d manage long after them.
Time.
Aizawa mentioned time before. That’s right ,he just needed time to readjust after an undercover mission. Reset, reestablish who he was supposed to be. I let you down the final time. So much he’d learned about their life, their interests, their passions. And yet… He steeled his expression for the cameras he knew covered every inch of the apartment.
Can’t even say I really tried to fix a thing about myself. He’d always be under the Commission. It didn’t matter how far he ran or how well he hid, they’d always find him.
And recalibrate him.
And turn him into a puppet for them. Again.
He tried. He did try. But he always knew it would be futile. Resistance was futile, the Commission was inevitable. Even if he accepted the League’s offer of freedom, of safety from them, it would’ve ended the same. The Commission would aways find him, always get through whatever barriers he put up to make him comply. It was easier to just follow orders. Be a good soldier.
I put your safety on the shelf. It was him or them. It always came down to that, no matter who he got close to. Toga would at least be safer.
Safer for whom? Dabi’s scorched voice accused. She’d be placed in care once she got out of the hospital. She’d be fine. She wasn’t going into the Commission, she wasn’t expected to be anything other than a civilian. He made sure of that.
Hawks shuddered at the price, wing nubs pressing painfully against his compression top as he curled into himself. He’d do it again. He was already the poster boy, it was too late for him. But if he could keep even one kid out of this, it was worth it. It had to be.
I’d say I never meant to disappoint. Hawks pushed off the couch, forcing one foot in front of the other as he limped to the bathroom. He peeled off his top, wincing distantly as it pulled and stuck to the burns and slashes covering his upper body. He threw it over the mirror, uncaring for the blood that dripped onto the vanity covered in products.
If he looked now, he might just break down. You’re doing that anyway. He hissed at the thought, cutting off harshly with a glance at the camera. Not here. Nothing, no one was safe here. Just shower, change, make an excuse and leave. Kami, he hadn’t been to a safehouse in so long. Would they even still be safe?
Safer than here. But what’s the point now that you’re gone? Freezing water pelted his back, red rivers running down into the drain as he stared blankly at the wall. He braced against the wall, arm burning from the position as his other hung limp at his side. Stolen moments and forbidden touches flitted across his carefully blank mind.
Water sloughed off his hair, caked with blood and regret. He couldn’t lift his right arm more than a few inches without searing pain. Should probably fix that. His gaze bore holes in the shower wall as his heart raced, pupils expanding. Fine. Fine. Later then.
Can’t blame it on anxiety or other broken parts in me. Hawks went through the motions one-handed, roughly pulling through his hair. A few strands got caught in the way, circling the drain before getting pulled below. Fingers curling, he scrubbed at his scalp. His talons would’ve dug into it, but as it was they scrabbled uselessly, the quicks raw. The few small feathers hidden by his hair burned as he broke apart the follicles and a nearly-severed shaft snapped.
He gasped, falling to his knees with a wet thud. A few fingers actively bled as he rocked in and out of the freezing water, hand locked in his hair. White hot pain coursed through his hands and feet. They curled inwards even as his left stress locked on his hair, pulling a few clumps as the price for Toga’s freedom burned through him like wildfire.
It was fine. They had to do it periodically anyways. It was fine. He’d do it again.
The truth is I just didn’t care enough to carry out my share. He did. He cared too much. That was the problem. He got attached. He got attached, and his- the League paid the price. He didn’t get to call them that. Not after what he did. Hawks shuddered at the ghost of a comforting gesture. The Commission always made it clear. He was a fool for thinking this would be different.
I knew the crime and knew the cost. Hawks slowly came to awareness, the water now a light pink and his form wrecked with shivering and a blue tint. Drawing a shuddering breath, he forced his right arm up through the pain and awkward angle. He let out a choked cry as he clamped down on the pressure point that released his stress grip.
The few clumps of hair fell as Hawks pushed to his feet and turned the water off. He made a few grabs for the rough red towel before snatching it. He stared at it a moment before blinking hard and dabbing at his body. The fabric pulled and left fuzzies behind he couldn’t be bothered to remove.
Kurogiri would have a fit if… Hawks almost smiled for a moment before clamping down on the thought. Kurogiri would never see them again. Because of him. He’s getting help! The thought almost made him laugh. Even if he did recover, gain back some of who he used to be, the Commissioned owned him. They owned him as much as they owned Hawks, and it’d be a cold day in hell when they gave up a quirk like that.
I gambled on your life and lost. Not bothering with the compression top, Hawks pulled a fresh jacket on, sharp pain radiating from his right arm as he maneuvered it through. He grit his teeth, closing his eyes for a moment before jerking it on the rest of the way. His toes curled against the unforgiving tile around drops of blood he’d need to clean before the next “visit.”
Shiggy- Shigaraki, Twice… Hawks shook his head. Keep it together until we’re there. If it looks like you’re even more affected, they’ll just remove someone else. Who even was left? He barely talked with Miruko. Eraser even less. They wouldn’t order a hit on a top ten hero, that would be absurd.
Right?
I’d say I never meant to make you hurt. Hawks dabbed makeup on the cut across his face and on his now sluggishly bleeding hands, watching for a moment to make sure it wasn’t seeping through. A heavy weight settled on his chest. Miruko would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Aizawa wouldn’t have thought twice. No one else would’ve gotten so attached as to actually think they could get away.
Hawks dragged himself out the door, each step shooting sharp spikes of pain up his spine. Sunglasses and a hat to conceal his soaked hair and no one would suspect the ragged young man of being a pro hero, much less Hawks. And with his phone still in the apartment, very little for the Commission to track him with. Of course they’d find him if they tried, but that was one time. He trudged down the stairs, not even glancing at the elevator he passed. He didn’t get to use the elevator. Not today.
But what’s that worth now that you’re gone? Hawks tripped over his feet, tumbling down as his wing nubs flared painfully trying futilely to catch him. Could still- no. No. He didn’t get to take the easy route. Not after what he’d done. He’d been through so. Much. Worse. He could handle stairs. He would handle them.
Picking himself back up off the landing, Hawks pointedly didn’t look at the cameras dotting the stairwell. Not as covered as the apartment, but enough. He shuffled further down, leaning heavily on the railing to catch himself as the missing talons kept pitching him dangerously forward every few steps.
Dabi would’ve helped. Hell, Dabi would’ve carried him down himself as much as he’d deny it the next day. You don’t have Dabi anymore. Stop complaining, you little bitch. Hawks snarked to himself even as that wound tore deeper. Dabi wasn’t here anymore. He threw all that support and care when he betrayed them.
Had every chance to make it right. Hawks shook as he stumbled out the back of the building, only just registering the Commission tails without his feathers. It was always going to end this way. The moment it got personal, he should’ve left, should’ve fought, should’ve done anything other than stay. Too exhausted and in pain to lose them, he could only wait til they got bored enough to stop paying attention. His body protested the idea, but it was the only way.
And looked the other way each time. He didn’t need to get involved with Dabi. If he did, it should’ve been to use him. To get information out of him. To get closer to get information. Not to find a family. People who actually seemed to care when he was hurt, when the Commission punished him, when they experimented on him. Was any of it even real? Maybe they were using him as much as he set out to use them.
Hawks’ breath caught at a shock of black hair and cerulean eyes across the crowd. He distractedly paid for the yakitori and started towards the fleeting figure but turned away. It didn’t matter how close he was. Even if he wasn’t guaranteed another round of searing flames, he would only put Dabi in more danger by even thinking about approaching him.
No point in trying to bend what’s real, I owe that much to you my dear. His arm only got worse as time ticked by, red and inflamed and pain spiking with every jostle from walking and accidental brushes with strangers. With the shoulder out of socket, he could only pin it so tightly to his side. Pain shot up through his arm as someone shoved past, drawing a whimper from his lips before he could swallow it.
So many people pressing into him and jostling and talking and even without his feathers it was too much. Hawks darted into an alley, couldn’t even bring himself to care about the Commission finding a safehouse. The others were far enough apart. It was fine. He just needed a moment. He slipped into the rundown building, dust coating every surface and rats scurrying at his intrusion.
My weapon loaded with neglect. It took all his strength just to close the door before he collapsed against the wall. He peeled forward just enough to give his abused wing nubs a break, panting as his heart raced and mind drifted into oblivion. Strangled, grating calls mixed with whimpers through his hand as he tried to calm down, the safehouse filtering out most of the oppressive noise and bodies outside.
My future with that sweet regret. After kami know how long, Hawks could finally gulp enough air in and looked about the safehouse from the floor. He killed Twice. Fuck. He was a troubled man, but a good one. And Hawks killed him in cold blood. No, you tried. You tried to stop it. If he had just… Twice could’ve gone with Shigaraki. Hell, he could’ve escaped with Dabi, Compress, and Spinner. But no. Even after they fled with cold rage and an emotion Hawks refused to acknowledge, Twice stayed. He must’ve thought Hawks was being controlled or puppeted in some way. A harsh, wet laugh fell from his lips. That would’ve been too easy. No. Instead he betrayed them so the Commission didn’t wipe them from existence.
I’d say I never meant to watch you die, but didn’t I? Twice’s face would be at the front of those he’d killed for the Commission. By the end, he must’ve realized. One of them needed to die. And Hawks still had to protect Toga from the horrors the Commission would’ve inflicted. Did inflict on him. Still might inflict on Kurogiri. The nomu would at least be used to the treatment from the Doctor. He just knew Toga would’ve either ended up on the cutting room floor or turned out far too much like him.
And now you’re gone. With a shuddering breath, Hawks grasped his right arm and roughly shoved it back into the socket, a low keen escaping as he ducked into his arm. A faint shuffling sound sent him surging to his feet, gingerly holding his arm as he reached for a feather sword that wasn’t there. Wouldn’t be there for weeks. Casting about, he grabbed a loose board. He tried to adjust his grip only to find it locked in a stress grip. Fuck.
It’s time to call the time of death. Hawks stalked forward, struggling to hide his limp. The safehouse provided very little cover, a barebones room with holes in the creaking floors and stained walls. The grip would be unwieldy to fight with, but nothing he hadn’t faced before. At least they couldn’t rip it out of his shaking hand. You’re a pro hero, damnit. Pull yourself together.
Admit defeat, there’s nothing left. Head swimming, Hawks stumbled and leaned heavily on the counter of the small kitchen. Long abandoned, the place didn’t have running water or much else. What was he even expecting to find? A runaway child could be hiding just as much as a petty thief or… Hawks reeled back as Dabi emerged from the attached room, scars still inflamed and fresh burns blistering beyond the staples. A frown pulled at his face, eyes wary and full of something he refused to acknowledge.
I let you down the final time. Hawks rapidly shook his head even as he fell into a clumsy defensive stance. No no no. No, he can’t be here. He was just. So. Tired. Dabi’s lips moved, but he couldn’t hear anything past the rushing in his ears. His face twisted in agitation, sparks alighting on his fingertips that made Hawks flinch back.
I’m sorry that I never tried to fix a thing about myself. Hawks drew up the board warily, a flimsy defense against a fire quirk. Dabi tried again before signing as his eyebrows pulled into more… no, he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t get that anymore. That must be for someone else.
‘Kei, what’s going on?’
I put your safety on the shelf. Hawks just shook his head, looking around hoping willing that there was someone else in the room. He didn’t deserve them. Didn’t deserve their help. Certainly didn’t deserve whatever he and Dabi had.
Dabi’s eyes blew wide and he started forward, hesitating at Hawks’ flinch. He glanced down. And did a double-take. Oh. Yeah that did look bad. Makeup ran off his hands with the blood, a small pool gathering on the counter and dripping onto the floor as more soaked the board. His shoes must be in a similar state judging by the similar pool below.
I know this isn’t fair but I still swear… The world spun as Hawks tried desperately to stay upright. These were villains. He had his orders. It didn’t matter what they meant. It didn’t matter he’d spent the last two days paying for their escape and Toga’s freedom. He… he…
I never mean to take your… voices finally filtered through as his world went black. An involuntary screech slipped out as he fell harshly , already fucked up arm ablaze as it twisted against the counter.
“We’ve got you, we’ve got you, Kei.”