Work Text:
Hawks thumbed at the mark inside his elbow and smiled. He'd taken a lot of comfort in the mark as a child, the blue flame that told him someone out there would love him unconditionally, someday. As he grew up and started his career, he learned to tone down his enthusiasm - soul marks guided people who would have a significant impact on each other's life, usually positive, but that didn't always mean love stories. A friend or mentor, anyone who would support or guide you - any of these relationships counted. Hawks doubted his life would ever leave him with the time for a romantic relationship, but any of these other options sounded nice, too.
Lips pressed into a thin line, he brushed the blue flame in the crook of his elbow, both amused and annoyed with himself.
"When do I meet you, Flamey-blue? I'm not known for my patience..."
Hawks chuckled, put on his shirt and tan jacket and left for his meeting with the Commission. What could they possibly want, today? His agency's results had been nothing but stellar since he started four years ago, and now he'd even risen to No. 2 in record time. Maybe he'd finally get to go on a joint mission with Endeavor?
The president looked tired when he entered her office, though Hawks doubted anybody else could tell. She seemed to age at an accelerated pace, ever since taking on the president's role, and Hawks doubted most people would believe she had been the one to teach him hand-to-hand combat for most of his teenage years.
That was when he'd learned most of her tells. He already knew he wouldn't like what she had to say.
"Hawks. I'm afraid I have to ask more of you again."
He listened to the details of the mission without batting an eye, as the president of the Hero Public Safety Commission asked him to infiltrate the League of Villains. If he didn't know any better, he would call this a suicide mission. What business had the No. 2 Pro Hero to be sent out alone on a spying gig with the purpose of joining the most dangerous terrorist organisation in the country? But he knew her, and he knew the Commission wouldn't risk their investment in him without a good reason. He had the training for it. It just seemed stupid to send someone with as much visibility and scrutiny as Hawks into the lion's den.
He made the right noises to accept the mission, perhaps adding a flair of dramatics. Something about assigning him to this mission just didn't smell right.
The president nodded. Then she exhaled deeply before continuing. Hawks hid his surprise at the unusual display of emotion.
"As I said," she continued, her voice soft, "I'm afraid we have to ask yet more of you."
More than a suicide mission infiltrating the League?
"This is Dabi," she said as she pushed a picture across the desk. "Their main recruiter."
Hawks approached. He'd memorised the faces of the League members after Kamino, but this photo looked a lot clearer than he'd ever seen before: a close-up taken in a back alley, somewhere.
"These are the pictures of the damage his quirk made at the UA Training Camp. I don't think you've seen them before."
He'd visited the charred forest on an off-day. He hadn't seen the grainy pictures of the blue flames devouring the forest. Something stuck in his throat. This didn't have to mean anything.
"And this," she said, voice ever so soft, "is a picture taken by the agent we first sent to infiltrate. You may remember her. Her quirk was Picture Perfect."
"Takeuchi-san," Hawks said. They'd worked a couple of missions together. She was an underground hero, much better suited to infiltration missions than he ever was. Her quirk let her record what she saw on a tape or a nearby electronic device. Incredibly useful for later review. That explained how they got such a good shot of Dabi.
"Correct. We gave her a fireproof recorder as a precaution, which turned out to be warranted. Dabi burnt to death the entire group she'd infiltrated as a stepping stone to the League." She let that sink in. "Another member of her group managed to land an attack on Dabi first, which is how we got this."
She pushed forward another picture, focused on Dabi's arm this time, torn jacket revealing that the dreadful stapled scars climbed up to his forearm and covered most of his elbow... but not all of it. In the crook of his elbow, the top of a feather still peeked through, bright red clashing in ugly ways with the purple scars. A single silver staple stabbed right through the feather's middle axis.
Hawks' heart sank.
"And this is why we believe he's more likely to be receptive to you coming to them. Alone. I'm sorry I have to ask you to sacrifice this for the greater good as well, Hawks. But you understand what's at stake."
He did, and that was the only thing giving him the strength to keep his arm down despite wanting to grab his elbow in order to.... what? Deny reality a little bit longer? Protect the mark and himself against the truth?
Hah.
Not all soul marks meant something positive. Only the vast majority of them, and he had been foolish to ever expect otherwise.
Now, he just needed to trick his soulmate into believing their mark was a bond of love, instead of their downfall.
Turned out, Hawks might have been a bit more attached than anticipated to the thought of someone being out there for him, just for him. The nausea at the back of his throat just wouldn't leave, only getting worse the closest he got to his apartment. He sighed. This wasn't the first time he'd have to kill unwelcome hopes and thoughts holding him back, but the only effective way he'd found for achieving that embarrassed him.
At least, with disposable income he could buy lavender-scented candles now, instead of burying his nose into his Endeavor plushie and pretending he could still smell the faint traces of his mother's perfume, long gone.
Back in his apartment, Hawks turned the lights off and lit a candle, making sure to power off his phone too. Then he sat on the couch and stared at the ceiling while he thought, as the subtle scent of lavender drifted around him and spread in the room.
One by one, he extracted every secret hope he'd never admitted before. Not even to himself.
Unconditional love. What that might feel like.
One by one, he took the time to examine and study these wishes that had been buried deep inside, as if even the faintest of lights could ruin them.
Unconditional support. Even without showing results, or only average performance.
One by one, he carefully understood and acknowledged each of them.
Unconditional trust. Still doing everything he could himself, but knowing someone would catch him should he stumble.
One by one, he said goodbye to these beautiful, meaningless dreams and crushed them.
The crumbs settled at the bottom of his soul.
Untying a lifetime worth of hopes took more time than he'd expected and the sun was rising through the curtains by the time he was through. In an ideal world, he would have stopped to rest then, but Hawks had never lived in an ideal world. And that was why he got off the couch and stretched, ready to fight another day. To change that. Feelings couldn't get in the way of creating a brighter future.
Today, he would patrol, and reassure the people, and be a good Hero.
Tonight, he would contact Dabi.
Hawks was ready.
As soon as Hawks saw Dabi, he had no doubt he'd just met his soulmate. Sapphire eyes that didn't waste a moment to lock with his and pull him in, a cold gaze that did little to hide the passions roaring beneath. Hawks was immediately fascinated, and immediately harnessed the feeling to play up to it without letting himself get drowned into it. There was undeniably something at play here, something even bigger than the enormous tension from a meeting between a top Pro Hero and one of the most wanted Villains in Japan.
A soulmate bond.
After that, it was nearly sickening, how easy it was. Dabi never said anything even though he had to wonder, had to know who the red feather on his arm likely pointed to. They threatened each other a bit. Hawks let his eyes widen when Dabi first pulled out a blue flame. His hand reached for his elbow before stopping halfway, as if he'd just remembered not to give anything away.
Dabi saw. Dabi saw everything.
And Hawks was counting on it.
They continued with the boring missions and pointless tests of loyalty, with the intense banter that flowed so easily and that both of them knew made no sense, considering who they were.
Hawks pushed on some days and allowed himself to be placated on others, depending on Dabi's moods, Dabi's doubts. He never lost sight of the plan. Mostly because he knew he'd already won.
He'd won the moment Dabi didn't kill him on sight, the first time they met. Even though it would have been so easy, in that narrow passage between two abandoned buildings that had Hawks at a disadvantage.
He'd won the moment Dabi let his curiosity win over.
Oh, he was certain Dabi had other justifications for what was going on, floating in that too smart head of his, so intelligent and yet so fallibly human.
Everybody wanted to be loved.
Hawks let the tactile part of his personality take over, and rejoiced when it took, when Dabi entangled himself further into the web of lies Hawks carefully weaved around him, around the both of them.
Hawks' heart jumped every time Dabi let him grab his arm or shoulder when he teased, because that would make the mission so much easier later.
The smile that stretched Hawks' mouth any time Dabi casually put his arm around his shoulders as he spoke, those smiles came naturally because the plan would go so smoothly once Dabi was under his thumb.
A couple of beers on a deserted dock, both of them pretending to be more tipsy than they were, dropping hints about soulmates and soul marks. Pretending not to care about that stuff, even when they were leaning closer to each other than they needed to, when their shoulders were pressed together and fingers brushed where they shouldn't, soon followed by lips.
Not long after, they were holding each other in a love hotel, tracing the lines of their respective soul marks or what was left of it, Hawks swallowing Dabi's questions with heated kisses, before they could get asked.
The plan was going as well as the Commission had anticipated. Dabi felt he had met his soulmate, someone to love him, and only Hawks realised that their mark was of the kind that destroys.
The reason Hawks felt nauseous when he came back to his apartment was just nerves, the fear of getting caught he could never quite quell. No candle would help with that, not with a mission like this one.
Just part of the job.
Of course, he'd known it wouldn't be as simple as sleeping with the enemy to get into the League, but it was still surprising how much easier it got, despite Dabi's repeated assertions that it wouldn't. Dabi was just so much more relaxed around him now.
It was easy to stand by his side while they brought down enemies of the League, easy to watch over him while he recruited, easy to listen when he talked about the other members of the League.
It was easy to watch him when he wasn't looking, easy to threaten anyone that got too close to Dabi, easy to wrap a wing over him when they didn't get the hint to back off.
It was easy, easy, easy.
All the best lies contain a grain of truth and Hawks was so busy weaving his complicated tapestry of deception, sometimes the grains got misplaced and he didn't remember if he said what he said and did what he did because that was what the plan required or because... because it was easy.
It was easy to be with Dabi.
It was easy in ways that had nothing to do with Hawks' carefully arranged schemes.
One day, someone touched Dabi's arm in a way that was much too intimate and Hawks sent a feather to cut them away without even thinking. The feather got caught in the flame Dabi used on the guy's fingers and burnt; of course Dabi wasn't going to stand by while small fry disrespected his boundaries.
"You okay there, birdie?" Dabi smirked, not even sparing a glance for the meddler leaving.
He only had eyes for Hawks.
And Hawks found that at some point, he had lost the ability to look anywhere else as well.
Hawks had been in a couple of casual relationships before, with people also waiting to meet their soulmates.
He found the experiences and memories completely useless to help him navigate this one.
There was a possessiveness in himself he never knew existed, that constantly threatened to engulf everything else.
And then there was a part of him that wanted to be respectful and allow Dabi his space. Like any good, healthy relationship.
This second part seemed to grow smaller with every passing day, while working this mission.
And he didn't understand where it came from. This was all fake? Why couldn't he call up his usual gentlemanly charm, the techniques that had served him well in the past? Adapt them to please a villain, of course.
Why was he trying so hard?
"For the greater good" didn't really feel like the right answer, these days.
Hawks wasn't fast enough today, his mood grim as he landed on his balcony and unlocked the door to let himself in. Not fast enough. It didn't matter that most of the victims had already died before he even got called. He was supposed to be the fastest hero. The whole point of his existence was to save people. If he couldn't even do that in his own hometown...
His apartment stank of smoke when he opened the door, and a burst of unwelcome feelings rushed through the apathy that had been choking him ever since arresting the villain with a gigantification quirk earlier. The one who hadn't cared one bit who was in the cars and buses he crushed during his escape.
Tonight, Hawks didn't think he could pretend not to care about collateral damage when it was still so raw, when he'd had to stay behind to slice through seatbelts with feathers and pull people away from wreckages. He was furious with Dabi for showing up today while Hawks was still covered in dirt and grime and blood that wasn't his. All because he'd been slow.
It didn't even matter that Dabi shouldn't know about this address. It wasn't the first time he'd broken in. No, the first time, Hawks had acted as if letting Dabi in here was special, even though this place had never meant anything to him. Despite the threatening towers of paperwork, his office had always been where he felt most at ease. Most at home.
He pretended, though.
He pretended, he pretended, he pretended.
"At least go to the fucking balcony to suck on your cancer sticks," he muttered, desperately trying to quell all of the real emotions from the day, threatening to erupt. Distance. He needed distance so he could pretend to be close and caring in precise, calculated ways.
He was on edge and he wasn't supposed to be. The mask didn't fit very well today. He let the tiredness he felt show, leaned on that fully. If he had to show something that was real today, let it be something harmless.
"You're later than I expected," Dabi just said.
He was sitting on the couch, and Hawks stopped in his steps when he noticed the large KFC bag on the coffee table.
"Probably cold now," Dabi added, when he saw him looking.
God, that was what normal people in a relationship did, wasn't it? Comfort their partner after seeing them having the shittiest day possible on national TV?
Dabi was a villain, though. Villains might be human but they didn't do normal; they didn't do relationships the same way the people outside did. They didn't. They... No. And this was a relationship between a hero and a villain. Doubly outside the norms. They shouldn't... shouldn't have time for peaceful, comfortable breaks like this. Just stolen moments, stolen kisses, stolen trysts, always in the shadows.
Hawks tore his gaze away from the take-out bag full of cold chicken to look at Dabi and immediately regretted it. Fiction and movies were full of those soulmates bonds that went beyond a matching mark and let you see into the other person's soul, understand them deeply.
Sometimes Hawks found Dabi's piercing gaze on him and felt seen, so fully and excruciatingly, that it took everything he had not to squirm.
The saddest, most uncomfortable thought of all was that really, Hawks didn't have any depths. His life had complexities but he, himself, was quite shallow. Nothing looming under. A void filled with grandiose ideals he desperately hoped to live up to, someday.
Thank god those bonds were all fiction.
"Did you eat?" Dabi asked softly, searching for something in Hawks' face.
Hawks crumbled.
He crumbled and broke down and inside of himself, looked on horrified at the resulting rubble. How was he supposed to figure out which were the grains of truth and which were the polished lies? It had already become so hard to tell, and now...
Outwardly, he kept on smiling.
A quiet little smile, the secret kind a grateful lover might share, he imagined. He was standing still, training kicking in to get him moving even when his mind was shattered. Thank the Commission for instructing him so thoroughly. He could keep going.
"I'll shower first," he said.
He truly needed it with all the filth that stuck to his skin, hair and feathers.
Even if he made it a quick one, he could use the time to regroup.
Dabi got up. "I'll help you."
Hawks wanted to scream and thought a voice did, far far at the back of his head. Screamed and screamed and screamed. He forced his gaze to soften.
"You don't have to. Food'll get cold. Colder."
"Too late for that. We can reheat it later."
Dabi was halfway to the bathroom already and Hawks followed him like a condemned man.
This was fine.
He wasn't in the mood but he could do this. Not like he had ever truly wanted to, any of the previous times either... right? It had been a lie with Dabi? From the start? When had it changed?
Had it changed?
Where did the lies live, where did the truth hide?
Maybe he could find an angle where he didn't have to see Dabi's face, or if not, he could always close his eyes and go elsewhere while he desperately tried to weave back the comfortable tapestry of lies he'd enveloped the two of them into. He could blame the emotional distance on the day he'd had.
Hawks desperately needed distance, or else...
Dabi helped him to undress, not really touching him though that wasn't unexpected, with failure and dirt tainting Hawks' body.
What was unexpected was Dabi making him sit on the edge of the tub so he could take the shower head and wash him himself. After a bit, Dabi grabbed the shampoo and softly massaged it into Hawks' hair.
There was so much gentleness in his movements. So much care.
So much selflessness.
Hawks needed some distance. He needed not to hear, not to feel. Just to watch and analyse, gauge his next move. Find something to hold onto.
What had Hawks ever done that was truly selfless? Even with past lovers, when he'd treated them kindly, it had never felt special. Hawks treated everyone with the same kindness.
Dabi choosing to do this for him... The hands of a murderer gently removing from his skin the traces of a day Hawks hopelessly wanted to forget, comforting and... safe.
Hawks hid the tears in the flow of the shower's water and focused on containing the sobs instead, harder to explain. He thought he'd been successful, but the way Dabi's hand ran on his back, sliding between his wings before squeezing his shoulder... The water stopped. Hawks told himself he was shaking because of the cold air.
A soft towel covered him and he should help with this - with anything - but he couldn't move. Not without falling apart.
Dabi kissed his temple before exiting the bathroom, rough lips that left warmth behind and something broke in Hawks. The tears stopped, and an insidious numbness spread instead, absolute, filling him right down to the tip of his fingers and wings.
Not the kind of distance he'd been looking for.
But he could work with that.
His dirty clothes were nowhere to be seen; Dabi must have taken them to the dirty laundry hamper. Hawks dragged himself to his bedroom, thought he smelled something unusual in the corridor but - no, just his imagination. He went through the motions of putting on something comfortable, poking inside of himself to figure out where his emotions had fled to. It was strange. There was nothing to be found, but he didn't feel bad or hurt or otherwise impaired. Just strange. Empty. Something missing that shouldn't be missing; something that he felt he should care about but just didn't.
When he left the bedroom, the smell was unmistakable.
Lavender.
His stomach twisted and nausea nebulously invaded his throat. The last time he'd drowned himself in that scent... The hopes he was supposed to kill then reared their ugly head back up, bleeding against all of his broken edges. Unconditional... No. No.
He strode to the living room, feathers already flying ahead to snuff out the candle and burn through that action, though he felt nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. The candle fell, glass container breaking into shards not unlike the pieces of his soul rattling inside.
Dabi was standing close to the window, he must have been looking outside but now he looked at Hawks instead, expression unreadable in the dark.
"Thought lavender was supposed to be calming."
Hawks couldn't face him. He stumbled all the way to the shards on the floor and fell to his knee, staring at them and the block of wax in the middle. The parts still hot had half melted against the flooring. From this close, the scent of lavender seemed to stick to everything, cloying and thick and suffocating and probably just his imagination, again.
"Please, leave," Hawks whispered.
He'd been wrong. He couldn't do this. Not right now.
Dabi came up to him to run his hand across Hawks' neck and brush against his hair before letting himself out.
Hawks kept staring at the glass.
Inside his soul, the broken pieces still rattled.
Hawks ignored his hunger, threw away the chicken and slept, longer than he usually allowed himself. It did him good.
The numbness was still here but a certain peace accompanied it. Going through the motions felt pleasant. Familiar. Like wearing a comfortable t-shirt. Maybe he thought a little bit more slowly, but it didn't seem to matter when it was time to report. He fooled the Commission agents who'd known him all his life. And none of the side-kicks, who saw him every day, picked up on anything different. He was good at pretending everything was fine, nothing to worry about here.
Tonight, he would meet Dabi, who'd only known him for a few months and had seen next to nothing true from Hawks. His acting wouldn't fail him then either. For the mission. For the greater good.
Hawks arranged a dinner date to make up for the last night. Invited Dabi to his apartment intentionally. Perhaps for the first time? Ordered take-away from the nice Chinese restaurant nearby.
Dabi came in and in one glance, saw right through his mask.
And if he could see through this one...
What else could Dabi see?
What else had he seen, since this all started?
Hawks watched as Dabi walked up to him where he sat at the kitchen table, a hand that could burn and kill so easily choosing to gently cup his cheek instead. Hawks forced himself to remain distant, keep his wits about him, stick to the plan. Pretend, pretend, pretend.
"I know, birdie."
But Dabi's words snaked their way through his mind, piercing through the numbness and only digging up hurt. Why should his training fail him now?
"I've always known."
The hand on Hawks' cheek was warm, but not hot in a dangerous, quirk-related way. It brushed against his face like a caress, one that Hawks could easily escape if he wanted.
He didn't move.
"Maybe at first, I thought that I could use you back, too. But then..."
Hawks couldn't help himself. He looked up, meeting Dabi's eyes, finding a turmoil of emotions in there that didn't match the dispassionate tone of his voice.
"I guess it was just nice to pretend," Dabi said, and Hawks realised it had all been fake for him, too. The world seemed to stop moving, for a second. "To let myself believe." But no, this sounded different. "You know? It was nice to believe. That there was someone out there, who'd have my back unconditionally." Hawks' heart ached at hearing his own hopes reflected in Dabi's words. "You're a damn good actor, birdie. Even now, I wonder how much of it was a lie. I can't tell. I... really can't tell."
Dabi smiled, and the sadness in his eyes was unmistakable. Hawks closed his eyes. The hand left his face, fingers tracing the lines under his eyes gently before Dabi walked around the kitchen table and pulled a chair to sit on it. No fire came.
"Sadly, people with lives like ours don't get a happy ending."
No fire came, but when Hawks opened his eyes, everything in Dabi's posture told him the man was ready to incinerate him the moment a feather twitched wrong.
"We're smart," Hawks said, listening to his own words from afar, like an echo.
"No. I think we're both pretty fucking stupid, you and me."
"No. We're smart," Hawks repeated, louder. Stronger. "We can figure this out."
"You're not going to trick me now, birdie." Dabi sounded wary. "I know you won't give up on being a hero."
"And you won't give up on changing society. We can meet halfway."
"Doubt it."
"I let myself believe too," Hawks said, urgent. Echoing Dabi's earlier words, wishing for him to understand.
"We can keep on pretending," Dabi said. "But we both know where this is leading."
His posture relaxed slightly, and Hawks could have cried from relief. He wasn't stupid enough to imagine Dabi left himself defenceless. They could still hurt each other pretty badly, maim or kill at a second's notice.
But they didn't.
They weren't.
They both pretended, in the silence of Hawks' barren kitchen, suddenly more homely than Hawks ever remembered it.
And while they did that, quietly, their banter more subdued than usual but still present, Hawks realised that there weren't all that many lies left, amidst all the grains of truth he'd carefully planted.
In some ways, things became different after that. But in others, they didn't, and what did change was nothing like Hawks expected. Perhaps that either of them expected. Having exposed the lie, and decided to embrace it anyway instead of ending it right there gave a new, surprising intensity to their interactions. Sometimes, Hawks found the same disbelief he felt written on Dabi's face. Always replaced by fierce determination afterwards. To make this work.
More than ever, they knew their time was counted. And even if that shouldn't have made a lick of difference, not when they'd both known or suspected it was a sham before, it seemed to give them a ferocious desire to make every fake moment of this fake bond as meaningful and significant as possible. Make it count.
"Would you two just get a fucking room?" Spinner whined. "Mario Kart shouldn't allow for this much sexual innuendo."
Toga giggled. Hawks caught Dabi's gaze, saw the slant of a smirk on his mouth.
"Yeah," Hawks said, startling everyone. "Yeah. Let's do that."
Dabi's eyebrows rose with the same surprise as everyone else in the room. They may have teased before but they'd never been so blatant. Then his eyes turned dark and he stood in time with Hawks. They moved to the hotel next door because fuck if they wanted to give a show to the rest of the League, but every touch seemed more intent, more deliberate than ever.
"Dabi," Hawks whispered in the dark, later, when their bodies entangled once again, glistening with sweat while the smell of sex hung heavy around them.
"Hawks... please...," he heard Dabi murmur, fully taking it in when he'd never allowed himself to listen this honestly before, always keeping distant, analysing, adjusting for maximum impact.
Now, Hawks looked, looked his fill and absorbed the view, the words, the sounds - all the things unsaid weighing heavily around them. He took them all to store somewhere deep and secret, just for him.
"I love you," he said, unsure why the knowledge that Dabi would never believe him comforted him this much. It made the words easier to say, and speaking his truth felt so freeing. "I don't know how... I don't know when... But I do..."
Dabi's fingers touched his cheek to dry the tears falling there and he brought Hawks' face down closer for another searing kiss. Perhaps hoping to swallow the words, just like Hawks had silenced his questions the first time they slept together.
Even without language, Hawks could still moan his love and regrets, his fury and despair, right against his soulmate's lips.
Another recruitment mission for Hawks to accompany Dabi on, keeping to the shadows while feathers hovered close to listen in. He observed from where he could see faces and recognise which gangs had got organised enough to try and join the League. Today's tip didn't come from Giran but from the leader of a smaller group recently recruited; insignificant assets that Hawks had classified under 'cannon fodder' in his reports.
It perplexed Hawks that someone like him would have contacts interesting enough for Dabi to come out and recruit himself. Something felt off. Dabi probably knew that too.
But Hawks wasn't here to tell him how to run his operation. Only to gather information, protect Dabi, and later, on a day that approached faster and faster, betray him.
Not today, though.
Not today.
Impervious to the dark thoughts floating at the back of his mind, Hawks didn't stop paying attention for a moment, eyes moving quickly between Dabi and the single figure approaching in the alley of the meeting, someone he didn't recognise.
Only one?
Dabi usually met with whole groups. To assess the control of a leader, and the kind of underlings they'd chosen to surround themselves with.
Hawks' feathers picked up on the vibrations before the buildings around Dabi even started to collapse. First, the alley's exit, blocking his way out. The man strode toward Dabi, locking him in place by holding onto his arms then seemingly turning to stone, solid and unmoving, heartbeat imperceptible. Dabi wriggled and fire came out, ineffectively. Hawks' feathers were already trying to move Dabi, slice through the stony arms, but nothing worked. He sent more of them, fast, fast, fast enough to block and divert the falling blocks and rubble away from Dabi but there were so many, and his wings were rapidly shrinking, slowing him down.
Hawks landed beside Dabi, who stopped trying to burn his way out of the problem for a minute. Huge bricks and debris still fell their way, Hawks keeping track of them the best he could with his feathers, but smaller stones and rocks still rained on them.
"Get the fuck away from here, you fucking dumbass," Dabi growled.
Hawks ignored him, knocking on different parts of the stone arm holding Dabi still. Dabi's contact didn't move and Hawks wondered if the quirk gave him the ability to leave a copy of his body behind, once turned to stone.
Whether he did or not, Hawks didn't hesitate for a second once he found a weaker point in the elbow. He grasped the arm and, using a technique drilled into him from a young age to fight larger opponents, jumped up to twist his legs around the guy's neck and pull down sharply.
The arm broke.
Savagely satisfied, Hawks jumped and coiled himself again to repeat the process, this time adding another kick right into the stoney face when the second arm crumbled. His back slammed into the ground after that, but it was worth it to see the head roll down on the other side.
Wouldn't the president find it amusing, that he'd used a move she taught him to save a villain?
Not as amusing as it would be if this turned out to be his last action, Hawks thought from where he lay on the ground, watching as half a wall with a warped window frame slowly collapsed its way toward them. He sent a few feathers up to slow its advance and when that failed, sent his remaining few toward Dabi to pull him away from the collapsing building while Hawks rolled away from the worst of the debris.
The wall crashed down above him with a deafening sound and a massive cloud of dust that left Hawks hacking his lungs out, in pain yet somehow grateful for it as that meant he was still alive. Somehow.
The wall got stuck sideways in the alley, saving his life but also blocking his way out.
With the loud resonance and the dust though, he'd lost track of his feathers and debris still fell around him, accumulating on the wall and threatening the fragile balance protecting Hawks' life. He tried to get up, but coughed more instead.
A moment later, the temperature rose noticeably. Very noticeably.
Through the broken window above him, Hawks saw blue flames appear above the alley then form a dome around it, hotter and brighter than ever. Even from a distance, the heat was close to unbearable and yet it was saving his life, breaking down the debris into sandy components that no longer threatened the stability of the structure safeguarding him.
No...
No, no, no!
No way could Dabi keep up this kind of temperature without causing himself even greater damage.
"Dabi!" Hawks tried to scream, but his parched throat didn't even manage the first syllable.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to stay alert and recall his training. Push blindly through the headache smashing his skull, extend his senses to find his feathers, and call them back. Was there any outside the dome of fire...? Yes! A few. He closed his eyes, ignoring how they prickled from the dirt stuck to his eyelids and focused hard, hard enough to recognise Dabi's presence, somehow. He'd spent so much time looking at him, unable to see anything else, anyone else, there was no reason... no reason he shouldn't be able to pick him out in a crowd. To know him just from the quality of his vibrations, the heat of his body, the rhythm of his heartbeat.
A feather found Dabi and brushed against his cheek.
"Stop," Hawks thought, praying for the meaning to get across.
The oppressive heat disappeared and Hawks crawled away from the wall and flames. Heavy rubble started to rain again, cracks opening in the wall and growing larger with every passing second. The structure collapsed soon after.
Hawks didn't look, more concerned with pushing his dusty, painful, shrivelled wings to their limit to find Dabi, make sure he was okay, and whisk him away from this busy street already lit up with the bright flashing lights of police cars and fire fighting trucks.
Dabi was barely recognisable, covered head to toe in dust that made his scars look lighter and his hair nearly white. No time to dwell on that. Hawks snatched him, barely managing the additional weight. He even had to use a few feathers to prop them up while in the air.
Later, he crash-landed onto his apartment's balcony, already reaching out to Dabi to gently prod at the scars, trying to find their edges through the grit, looking for bleeding, for gaps, for anything gone wrong.
"Are you...," he tried to ask but only coughed some more.
Dabi wasn't listening, his own hands running through Hawks' hair, his back, the stumps of his wings. He didn't ask anything, but maybe he couldn't speak either.
They stumbled inside and to the bathroom, and in a flash of understanding Hawks grasped why Dabi had washed his body with so much care, not that long ago. The need to check and cherish and make sure was intolerable.
New injuries and scars were mapped and tended to. Then, they moved to the bedroom and celebrated being alive in a different way, skin against skin, feverishly seeking comfort in each other, and finding it.
Unconditionally.
At 3 a.m., the impersonal chime of the doorbell woke them up. Hawks tensed.
"Leave it," Dabi mumbled beside him, eyes still closed.
"Not many people know about this address," Hawks said, mentally going through the very short list. All working for the HPSC.
Dabi scoffed. "It's not that hard to find."
"We bought off your information broker," Hawks noted absently, too concerned about who might be at the door after their semi-public stunt last night. Coming back here might have been a mistake. He hadn't been thinking straight. He'd missed the larger picture.
"Figures," Dabi answered after a brief silence, not sounding too bothered.
"Stay here," Hawks said. "Let me try to handle this first."
He put on pyjama bottoms and left the bedroom door partially open. He looked into the peephole and his heart sank on seeing the president on the other side.
Then the gears in his head started turning.
Why would she come alone? In the middle of the night?
He steeled himself and opened the door.
"Hawks," she greeted, as impassive as ever.
He moved away to let her in and she removed her shoes, studying his apartment, the living room he led her into. Her eyes caught on the remnants of purple molten wax and the shards of glass on the floor that he still hadn't cleaned. His breath hitched as he wondered if she remembered... No, there was no way she knew. Her gaze seemed to stay too long, but eventually moved on and she went to sit on the couch.
He sat on the arm of an armchair, uncomfortable. The silence stretched, with her staring ahead like she forgot where she was, like she was thinking about something else. She looked tired.
Eventually, she inhaled resolutely and Hawks braced himself.
"We've taken care of the PR aspect this time. We won't do it again."
Hawks nodded, cautious and uncertain what that meant in this case.
"The public will believe that you got into a fight with the Villain Dabi and took him away from the scene in order to finish your fight away from the bystanders he could endanger. Unfortunately, he ran away before you could apprehend him."
"Okay," Hawks replied, bewildered.
"You're smart, Hawks. You know something will have to give. But..." she said, then stopped. Only long enough to sigh. "I don't want to take anymore from you. You've given this country so much already. I trust you to keep the casualties count low, whatever you do. Don't give us all of the information, if that's what you decide. But don't destroy what we're doing here either. You know it's bigger than you and me, or the HPSC."
Could she be saying what Hawks thought she was saying? Was this a trap? This made no sense.
"I don't understand," he admitted.
The impatient glare he received in answer nearly made him nostalgic, memories of being thrown into the ground again and again resurfacing.
"Please," she said, like she knew better. Maybe she did.
He did understand. He just couldn't quite believe. She paused again to look at him and Hawks didn't squirm, but only because he had lived under the stares of others for so long.
"You're just a pawn, Hawks. I have to keep the entire board in mind. You're useful. You could do a lot of damage, if you decided to turn your back on us. But I trust the strength of your ideals and your sense of justice. Even if I'd rather keep you focused on the well-being of our country only... Forcing you to corrupt a soulmate bond that appears to be reciprocated is too much, when you're just a foot soldier in the end."
Something in him reeled at seeing his role being reduced so casually, when he'd put so much on the line already. But she wasn't saying he hadn't done enough. The opposite, in fact. Then why...? Then, a thought struck him.
"Your soulmate...?"
She threw an unimpressed glance his way, and a chill ran down Hawks' spine. With the kind of information she had access to, the kind of power she could exert... What had she sacrificed, to make sure she couldn't get compromised, just like Hawks had? She gave him a final nod, and got up.
"I don't know how long you can keep this up, Hawks. But make the most of it while you can. Make sure it was worth it."
He followed her back to the entrance and let her out silently, still trying to catch up with the events. As she left, she didn't say goodbye nor look at him either.
Dabi came out of the bedroom when Hawks closed the door, blue flames dancing around his fists.
"I still hate that bitch."
Understandable, and easy. Too easy. "You could kill her and that would change nothing. She's as much of a cog in the system as we are. Were."
Killing her wouldn't improve the workings of Hero society any more than killing Hawks would remove the pressure building up around the League. No... the system needed to change into one where no one had to be left behind or sacrifice their soulmate to the greater good as a matter of fact. Fuck. He couldn't believe this had just happened.
"You don't need her permission to do what you want," Dabi insisted.
Logically, Hawks agreed. But that didn't make what had just happened any less momentous. He had never felt as free, nor as motivated to find a way to bring together the two sides of his double life as he did now. He could still help bring about a more just society, one where Heroes had the time to relax. Perhaps with their soulmate, even.
Maybe he needed to look at an operations book larger than the one the HPSC followed.
Any trace of the numbness that had overcome him a few weeks earlier was gone. Between the moment he had shared with Dabi the previous day, and this sudden realisation that the world was bigger than he'd ever perceived it, and he was free to walk there... Excitement thrummed through his bones, in ways he couldn't have put into words.
"You saved my life," he said instead.
"So, what?" Dabi answered flatly.
"You declared your love so flamboyantly that you even swayed the Commission's president," Hawks said, heart lighter than it had felt in months, maybe years.
"I did no such thing."
Dabi frowned, expression guarded. As if Hawks' skin wasn't still singing in every place Dabi had kissed after checking every inch of his body for injuries. Hawks tip-toed closer and their lips met in a soft kiss, tender and tense.
They still faced an uncertain future, but for the time being they would face it together.