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Poetic Fallacy.
Of course it was raining.
The rain was coming down in sheets when Dabi hear the knock at the door, more a timid brush of knuckles than the pounding he would have expected. He had hesitated, throwing his legs off the side of the couch and waiting for another noise.
The other noise didn’t come.
Dabi knew he hadn’t imagined it, he knew that the most likely thing was that his hideout had been discovered. He had lain low for the past few weeks, other villains drifting in and out in the meantime. He had a little box of a television in the corner which showed him the news on occasion. Once or twice he had seen Hawks, and the sprouting of feathers once more on his back. Tonight it just showed blurred static, the wind and rain blowing away any sort of signal.
When Dabi answered the door, he had his burning hand raised. Flames licked up his scarred skin, more cracked and peeled than it had been in a long time. The force of the blue flames was melting his skin away, but Dabi would rather burn up than burn out with a whimper. He squinted into the storm and a few paces away stood a smaller figure, hooded in a wrecked cloak.
A wave of his hand and the person was surrounded in a wall of fire, wavering and struggling beneath the water descending upon its flames. But still lethal enough that Dabi could hear the cry of the man, the low timbre of his voice conveying fear rather than pain.
‘Stop, wait-‘, the man was cowering in on himself, burrowed under the material.
Dabi knew that voice.
‘What are you…’, Dabi was nearly too shocked to speak, ‘You must have some sort of nerve…’.
‘Hear me out’, the wind shifted so the material fell from Hawks’ face, screwed up from the battering of the rain.
‘And why in the world would I do that?’, Dabi tried to remain calm, glancing around.
Must be some sort of trap, there must be some sort of back up – why would they do it this way, why alert him to the surprise attack?
‘Please’, Hawks was shouting over the burst of thunder that followed the blinding flash of lightening.
‘Please’, the strained whisper was broken by a relieved moan as Dabi came down to smash his lips against Hawks’.
They were close together, the storm wasn’t too far, ‘I’ve come alone’.
Hawks’ cheeks were bright red from the assault of the weather, his eyes nearly closed to protect from the wind. His hair was stuck to one side, Dabi could see it was cut much shorter from the remnants of his flames. The scar that travelled up his back and onto his face was much darker in person, much more noticeable.
The scar was not that dissimilar from the ones that adorned his body.
Dabi tried to suppress the possessive smile that threatened to overtake his face.
He scowled instead.
‘When will they come?’, Dabi asked, making no move to extinguish his flames. The light from the fire was flickering onto Hawks’ face and Dabi remembered all the times he called him pretty, tainted now.
‘Unless they have followed me’, Hawks answered, gasping for breath between the gales and the flames, ‘No one else is coming’.
‘Why?’, Dabi was flabbergasted, brushing a hand through his now white hair, ‘You know I have to finish it’.
‘I know’, Hawks’ face was screwed up and Dabi had to look away from the show of weakness, ‘But I need you to do something for me’.
‘Do something for you?’, Dabi roared back, ‘You traitor, this ends n-‘
The flames reared up as if to swallow the hero whole and he flinched, the rest of the material bunching and falling to the ground. Dabi stopped, his eyes wide on the bundle in Hawks’ arms.
‘What is that?’, Dabi demanded, the flames dying in the rain, ‘What the fuck is that?’.
‘A baby’, Hawks was sobbing, unable to control his hiccupping breath, ‘They’re going to kill him. Please’.
Dabi balked at the infant curled in Hawks’ arm, the other arm hanging limply and at an angle – clearly painfully dislocated. He looked over the blonde once more to see that underneath the cloak there were spatters of blood and his torn hero costume. A particularly nasty gash in his side pumped blood, but Hawks didn’t even look at it, his one good arm fastened securely around the baby.
Dabi let the silence draw out a moment, the fire on the ground extinguished.
‘How did you find me?’, Dabi asked instead of the million other questions.
Hawks turned slightly to the side, fluttering his tiny pinfeathers – not much more than when Dabi had singed them off. Dabi nodded, noting that the wings were essentially useless, particularly when so sodden with water.
‘Why are they going to kill it?’, Dabi motioned with his head to the baby.
‘Him’, Hawks corrected, shifting slightly so Dabi could see the tiny damp wisps of nearly white-blonde hair peeking out from its blue blanket, ‘They think he’s too dangerous’.
‘A baby?’, Dabi was unconvinced.
‘They say his quirk could be uncontrollable’, Hawks blinked through the rivulets running down his face. Dabi opened his mouth to question further, confusion clearly clouding his judgement when Hawks stretched his shoulder so the blanket fell back a little.
‘He’s yours’, Dabi breathed, Hawks only barely catching the words. A pair of tiny wings protruded from the infants back, twitching whenever a raindrop bounced onto his feathers.
‘Kind of’, Hawks was breathing heavier now, ‘He was made in a lab. From DNA. Some of mine’.
‘Who else’s?’, Dabi took a step forward, letting the rain begin to soak into his thin t-shirt. When Hawks didn’t answer, he stormed down the steps to where the hero was barely standing.
‘Who else?’, Dabi was shouting again and Hawks flinched back, keening low in his throat at the jarring of his shoulder.
‘Endeavour’s quirk’, Hawks groaned out, ‘But a stronger one. I wondered where they’d got it until there was word of the disposal of the entire operation’.
‘Why would I care about some monster made in a lab?’, Dabi insisted, getting up close to Hawks who cringed away.
‘He’s an innocent’, Hawks cried, tripping back so that his boot got caught in the squelch of mud, sending him tumbling to the ground. He twisted to save the baby, shrieking when he came down awkwardly on his useless arm.
‘I’ve killed plenty of innocents before’, Dabi stood over the fallen hero, ‘The question is – why are you going against the Commissions orders? Hm? You’re dead for this you know’.
‘I know’, Hawks rolled to one side, the baby now awake and screaming, ‘I’m dead anyways’.
Gentle hands turned to claws, scraping down Dabi’s back.
Encouragements, whispers and veiled moans in his ear.
Dabi admired the bruises travelling down his slender neck in the mirror, feeling the smaller man’s presence behind him. Two strong arms wrapped around his waist and he hummed, leaning back.
‘Look at my skin, it’s going to be impossible to hide this from the rest of the League’, Dabi pretended to lament, digging his fingernails into the tanned arm that caged him in, ‘You are so dead for this’.
‘As long as you’re the one killing me’, Hawks laughed, pressing a kiss into Dabi’s pale shoulder.
‘Why now? Why this?’, Dabi rubbed his eyes fiercely with the heels of his hands, ‘You follow the Commissions orders wilfully – you let them decide who is the hero and who is the villain. Why have you changed your mind now?’.
Hawks opened his mouth and worked his jaw, looking up at the thick, black sky for divine intervention.
‘Just because it has your wings? Has that wrung the tiniest bit of empathy from you?’, Dabi was crouching over Hawks, the baby’s cries nearly drowned out by the roar of wind.
‘No, I-‘, Hawks was crying again, his body jerking from the force of it, ‘I don’t know why – okay?’.
As if the clouds had parted and the sun shone down, Dabi saw as clear as day.
Hawks was blinded, so regimented in his brainwashing that even now he was struggling with the morality of it all. But here he was, having managed to get to the edge of the fog and starting to see the light Dabi had been hoping to show him all along.
Dabi could recognise that there was some sort of hero in Hawks, not the kind fabricated and constructed by the Commission – a selflessness that came as early as when he heard that a busload of people had been saved by a child’s feathers.
It wasn’t lost, it was just buried.
Dabi thought buried too deep for anything beautiful to possibly grow.
‘That’s a pretty flower’, Hawks bent down to curl a finger around the striking purple petal.
‘It’s a pansy’, Dabi looked over the blonde’s shoulder, letting his hand stray down affectionately to rest at his lower back, ‘They grow even in the wintertime’.
‘It’s crazy something so beautiful can survive the frost’, Hawks turned his face up towards Dabi’s, his smile blinding.
‘I’ll take the child’, Dabi found himself saying. Hawks sighed in relief, throwing his head back so his blonde curls were dirtied by mud and water.
‘Thank you’, Hawks wept, ‘Thank you, thank you’.
He leaned up, offering his bent arm at an angle so Dabi could dig a hand under the blanket and bring the bundle towards him. The baby had stopped crying, his blonde curls stuck to his face with heavy wet and his cherub cheeks a ruddy red from the extremities.
His eyes were a mirror blue.
‘I’m going to have to kill you’, Dabi’s voice was a little broken. He tried to seize up the satisfaction and justice he had when he last had to do this.
Last time, the manipulative little traitor had been so righteous, fighting tooth and nail to bring Dabi down.
This time, he was broken open with gratitude and crying in relief.
The amount of fire it would take to finish him now was onefold the amount it took to burn him quirkless last time. His skin was stinging already with the effort it took to try and bring the flames to the surface.
‘I know’, Hawks was still smiling.
‘There’s something about you, Hawks’, Dabi pondered aloud, letting his fingers weave through feathers.
Dabi knew he was playing a dangerous game allowing the hero settle in so deeply into his bones. He knew there was only one way this would end. He hoped against it anyways.
‘I know’, Hawks was smiling.
‘Will you make it quick, Touya?’, Hawks was pleading a little, his face creased as he smiled.
‘I love you’, Hawks was kissing frantically along Dabi’s collarbones, ‘And one day, you’ll tell me you love me too?’.
The question hung in the air and Dabi hesitated, feeling Hawks tense beneath him.
‘I will’.
Dabi shifted the baby in his arms, hearing the little bleats of his cries start up again.
‘I will, Keigo’.