Chapter Text
Dabi stood on the balcony, back pressed against the wall, a cigarette lit in his fingers. He puffed at it contently, just happy Hawks had finally let him onto the balcony. Hawks was scared that someone would see him if he smoked outside when his neighbors would be coming or going, and he forbade Dabi to smoke inside or near the baby. Under the darkness of night, the only light were the stars, the tip of the cigarette, and the living room lights which backlit Hawks as he stood in front of the door.
“I bet,” Hawks said offhandedly, “if you just texted Fuyumi again, she’d be happy to meet up.”
Dabi stopped in his tracks, breath catching halfway in his throat. He looked at Hawks in the corner of his eyes before taking a long drag off the cigarette. Then another.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Endeavor asked me to talk to her the other day. Said he thought there was something Fuyumi wasn’t telling him, which there was.” Dabi raised an eyebrow, taking breaths off the cigarette at a faster and deeper pace now. He looked away from Hawks as Hawks continued, “Like the fact that you texted her, which you didn’t tell me. And she had some interesting thoughts about why you kidnapped her baby.”
Dabi chuckled. “She tell you I’m a big, bad, evil villain? Thought you knew that by now, Birdie.”
Hawks let out an annoyed flutter of his wings, feathers ruffling as he shifted. Dabi had burnt down to the end of the cigarette, flicking the cigarette onto the cement ground of the balcony and pressing it out with the sole of his boot. He pulled another from the box in his trench coat.
“You heroes are always like that, though. ‘Specially you,” Dabi mocked before Hawks could respond, letting his second cigarette hang between his teeth.
Hawks shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out at the skyline. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dabi chuckled. “That’s the problem with you heroes. Someone tells you to do something, and you do it. Even if it means invading the privacy of your…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. Who was he to Hawks? “Even if it means invading my privacy,” he corrected.
“Endeavor asked me to help his daughter, whose been going home to cry every night because you wanted to be a fuckass. Or do you not care about Fuyumi anymore? Were your little texts just for show?” Hawks kept his voice low, albeit frustrated, trying not to cause a scene outside. “I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy . I figured that talking to her might give some insight about getting her baby back to her. And what was I supposed to do? Tell Endeavor, ‘No, I don’t care about kidnapped children?’ Grow up, Dabi.”
“And you’d do anything for Endeavor .” Dabi spit out the word venomously around huffs of smoke. “The little Endeavor doll in your closet is cute.” He dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and stomped on it with significantly more force than the first one.
“Hey,” Hawks said, frustration seeping into his voice more and more. “You’re not the only one with a dark past. Don’t talk shit about the one thing I have from my childhood, just because you’re unhappy you don’t have anything from yours.”
Low blow. Dabi turned to him, and the rage in his eyes genuinely frightened Hawks. The fight or flight instinct flashed passed him for a millisecond as he wondered if Dabi would light him up, right on his balcony. Dabi seemed to be seething, almost, steam coming up from the seams on his cheeks. “Do not talk shit about my childhood, or so help me God, Hawks, I’ll-” He turned away suddenly, clenching his hands into fists and unfurling them. He set his hands on the metal fencing around the balcony, gripping it until his knuckles turned white and the metal turned red with heat. “Don’t.”
“Fuyumi was right, then?” Hawks asked. He didn’t have to repeat Fuyumi’s theory to know what Dabi knew exactly what he was talking about; that was a yes.
Each point Fuyumi had made - the connection between Dabi and Touya’s quirks, his hatred for Endeavor and hero society, his motivation to see and take the baby, why he would know Fuyumi and their childhood and her phone number - they were all emphasized here. Dabi didn’t have to answer for Hawks to understand. He’d become upset at the mention of Hawks helping Endeavor and seethed at the possibility that Hawks could gleam his childhood. Hawks suspected things were worse than either Fuyumi or Dabi dared to say, and Hawks didn’t want to push him any further. Hawks certainly didn’t like rehashing his childhood with others. He stepped closer to the railing, setting his hands on it where the heat didn’t reach.
“You don’t have to answer,” Hawks said quietly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry. I wanted to help.”
The simplicity, the honesty, and the kindness shocked Dabi. Hawks was such a snarky bastard, always cracking jokes and egging Dabi on. It was a testament to either his awareness or his care that he’d noticed the way Dabi seethed and eased up. Just a few seconds ago, the only thing stopping Dabi from going full-arson was the baby on the other side of the glass, but Hawks’s easing up calmed him. His hands on the metal cooled and he pulled them off.
When his left hand reached across and touched Hawks’s cheek, he almost jumped a mile. Had Dabi not actually calmed down? But the move was swift and soft, albeit still threateningly warm, as he turned Hawks towards him and closed the gap between their lips.
After the first moment of shock, Hawks relaxed his body, pressing his face into the palm of Dabi’s hand, kissing back. Dabi’s lower lip was rough, and his top lip was smooth, and he didn’t press Hawks any further than that one gentle kiss, even though Hawks would have let him. As suddenly as Dabi had leaned in, he leaned back again, pulling his hand away and stepped back.
Hawks was left standing by the railing, hand still wrapped around the cool, metal bar. Dabi slid open the door and, before closing it, turned back to Hawks.
“I’m going to bed. Don’t bring up my childhood anymore,” he said. “But… I’ll consider taking your advice to text my sister.”
Hawks nodded, letting Dabi disappear into the apartment.
Dabi (11:27 pm): flood tunnel. tomorrow. 10 pm. do NOT bring endeavor.
2 (11:27 pm): Is Ichiro still safe?
Dabi (11:28 pm): of course.
Dabi debated over thumbing out the next text, but something in him wanted to. His childhood was a shit show for sure, but Fuyumi always had a natural instinct for family in her. When he’d broken in, he had been so intent on trying to make her understand, and he hadn’t even been sure exactly what he wanted her to understand. But of course, he should have guessed, she understood it anyway.
The next message was risky, but she’d kept the originals secret from Endeavor. Hawks had said she’d even kept her “theory” from Endeavor. Dabi figured that if someone could be trusted with this message, it was Fuyumi. After everything she’d been put through - by their family, by him - she deserved to get it.
Dabi (11:32 pm): what you told hawks was right.
Hawks dropped down on the ground, feet landing in the grass with a thud. He’d been carrying Dabi, who had been carrying Ichiro, as he flew; Hawks had insisted he wanted to see Ichiro off but that he would give Dabi the privacy to do it himself. Fuyumi was already standing there, waiting patiently. He startled at the sight of Hawks. Although Dabi had mentioned Hawks in his text, seeing the hero-villain duo was a surprise.
“This,” Hawks said, motioning between the three adults in a triangle. “This is our secret, okay?” He spoke primarily to Fuyumi, and when she nodded her head, he smiled and took off, a single red feather falling off his wings behind him.
Dabi stepped over the mushy ground, mud seeping over the soles of his combat boots. Ichiro, upon seeing Fuyumi, began to babble, calling her “Mama” and reaching out to her. Dabi let him go, let Fuyumi take her baby in her arms. Her eyes were wide, almost as if she didn’t believe she was getting her baby back, especially not without a fight. Her eyes started watering.
“Come here, sweet boy. Hi, honey,” she cooed quietly. Ichiro giggled as she pulled him to her chest. Then she turned her attention to the villain in front of her. “Is it really you, Touya?” She held her free arm out to invite Dabi into a hug.
He let her. For the first time in years, Dabi breathed out, and Touya breathed in.
“I’m sorry,” Dabi whispered. “I guess I haven’t been a very good big brother. For leaving you guys with him. And then I come back, and what do I do? Steal your baby?” “God. Which I wasn’t trying to do, by the way.”
“Why did you come that night?”
“I wanted to see him. Knew you always wanted a family. When Endeavor showed up, I panicked.” Dabi looked around instictively, as if he thought Endeavor still might show, and he might need to shift into combat mode. This was foreign to him, the idea of family and care. He wouldn't say it was bad - Ichiro's giggles, Fuyumi's kindness, the cool press of Hawks's lips, letting people care - but the newness of it all roused his fight or flight instinct. “I should go. You shouldn’t be seen with me.”
“Touya, wait. I don’t… condone what you’ve done. But I didn’t condone what dad did, and I still forgave him. You’re my big brother - I want to forgive and protect you. You may be my big brother, but I’m still your little sister. We protect each other. Remember when I would help you clean your burns when we were children? Or when we would cook dinner for everyone? We always made yaki udon because it was your favorite…”
Dabi's heart stirred. She remembered little details like that? Something about the softness of her voice, and the seemingly genuineness of it, drew him in closer, made him want to open up. For all the pain of his childhood that pushed him away, it was easy to forget that Endeavor was the only problem, not his mom or Fuyumi or Natsuo or Shoto. It was easy to forget.
And it was difficult to remember. There wasn't just the idea that she cared, but the contrasting notion that Dabi had been living without care for so long that he had forgotten it. "I should go. I don’t want you to be seen with me.” Yet, no matter how long he was apart from those who cared, it seemed his role of big brother couldn't be given up. “You’ve got a good kid there, Fuyumi.”
“Hey, Touya. You have my number. Don’t be a stranger.”
“I’m just here to give you your clothes back,” Dabi said after he climbed in through Hawks’s patio door.
“Back to your edgy uniform, then?” Hawks asked from the couch, raising an eyebrow. He looked back at his phone - at a text from Endeavor about hero stuff - as Dabi rolled his eyes and slipped into the bedroom to change.
He was out of the room quick, back in his (clean) white shirt, black jeans, and trench coat. Dabi made his way to the sliding glass door. He settled his hand on the handle and looked over at Hawks. “I’m going back to the warehouse,” he announced with a sense of finality. Why shouldn’t it be? They were, essentially, coworkers through the League who had been forced together for the sake of the child, not for any deeper reason. With Ichiro home and safe, Dabi could return to his rough and tumble life on the streets; there wasn’t much else for him.
“Hey, Dabi,” Hawks said, standing and reaching the door quickly. They stood face to face. After a beat of silence, Hawks added, “If you ever need anything, a shower or food or anything, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. You can stop by whenever. Just stop by for dinner. I’m making yaki udon tomorrow.”
Dabi smiled a small smile.
“Thanks, Birdie.”