Chapter Text
The moment We burst through the underground training facility my breath hitches and my heart stops. We knew what we were coming here to do, and roughly what to see. But nothing could prepare us, could prepare me, for actually seeing it. The facility is similar to the one I had trained in not too many years ago. The familiar overly clean halls and rooms, the stench of bleach and other chemically smelling cleaning products always present. It smells like a hospital but isn't even close to really being one. This place isn't meant to help people, not really at least. Memories flood my mind briefly of the days I trained relentlessly in a place oh so similar to this one, but I shake my head clearing it. I have a mission to complete, I can't get lost in those memories, not now at least.
The building seems relatively small from the outside, the reason being that most of the floors were buried deep underneath the ground. The inside looks much different from the outside. There's long winding halls and several doors. When first entering the building you see a large open room, it looks a lot like a waiting room. There's tables and chairs set up throughout, and in the back left corner there's a desk with a computer and papers scattered about. Other than that it's a boring empty room, nothing on the walls but cameras.
Once you get past the "waiting room" type area you enter something much different. It's a long, wide hall. And lining said hall is something that could only be described as cells. There aren't any doors from this hall to allow access into the cells but there's a wide viewing window, each window goes almost from floor to ceiling with only a few inches between the glass and ceiling. The glass is likely fire, bullet, and anything else they could think of proof so attempting to break through them would be stupid.
All of the rooms are the same. Each one only holds a metal bed frame and thin itchy looking mattress, no blanket in sight. There's a toilet in each of the rooms with a single roll of toilet paper on the back of it. And lastly there's a little sink in the corner of the room. On the back wall of each room is a door, no visible handle, just a little light that blinks red above the door frame.
According to our intel there aren't supposed to be very many people inside the building today, at least not those that are employed here anyway, and there aren't supposed to be many 'Trainees' to begin with either. I'm part of the second wave of the raid so most of the employees have already been taken in at this point, we're simply looking for the 'Trainees' now. The fact that they put me in the group designated for the second wave made me somewhat irritated but I accepted the task nonetheless. It isn't the fact they put me in the second wave that bothered me, it's the fact that I missed all of the action. My wings twitched in anticipation, my senses on high alert searching for anything that stood out. But my skin also itched as I looked around the eerily familiar rooms, and halls. This place brings back so many memories of my own prison.
When I make it to the end of the first hall I glance to the left first, spotting a set of large, plain double doors immediately. The doors are open slightly so I'm assuming either someone's currently in there or had left in a hurry when the first wave made their appearance. I can hear the sound of someone's rapid heartbeat from here in the hall because of my advanced hearing, so I quickly turn down the hall and pull a feather from my wings, willing it to turn into something similar to a dagger. Once I make it to the doors I push lightly against them opening it wider, feather at the ready, and freeze.
I can't help but gasp at the site before me. The room is large and much like the other rooms, lining the walls are rows and rows of large glass display cases. Most are filled, others are not. None of the display cases hold trophies or medals, the vast majority of them hold something much more horrifying. Inside most of the cases are large sets of wings, much larger than any average bird I've ever seen.
They must have been removed from someone with an avian type quirk. The thought alone makes my own wings ache. Maybe their fake, simply redesigns of the same thing. Although that seems highly unlikely, what would be the point in making so many different versions of the same thing? Unless it was some weird hobby, but if they were simply made for a weird hobby why keep them here. All the wings are identical with only minor differences. And as you go from display case to display case they gradually get bigger. Although for some of them there's an abrupt change in size.
All of the wings are pitch black and the tips of them go from vibrant red, to orange, to yellow. All the wings are dirty and unkempt in one way or another, either from not being taken care of while on display or from before they were put on display. Wings don't shed and then grow back so the identical sets of wings are a bit unnerving.
Avian quirks are rare so the probability of these belonging to different people, but being identical, is highly unlikely, even if the people are blood relatives. But it's also unheard of for someone with an Avian quirk to have so many sets of wings, or have the ability to regrow wings at all. The idea of someone taking another person's wings away and then putting them into display cases as if they were some kind of sick trophy makes my stomach roll. Finally I pry my eyes away from the many sets of wings and walk to the center of the room, where my bestfriend is standing, her hand clasped over her mouth and eyes wide in horror as she stares.
"Are they real?" She asks, her voice shaking slightly, as she turns to look me in the eyes. It takes a lot to phase her, she's the #4 hero so it only makes sense that that would be the case. She's seen a lot in her life, she's never seen this, neither have I.
I glance around at the wings once more and grimace when the largest pair, most likely the most recent, catches my eye. They look the same as all the others but upon closer inspection there's dried, crusted blood along the base of each wing. That confirms what I had hoped was false. I meet her eyes and nod slightly. "Most likely, yes." I finally say, my voice low.
She nods and stays silent for a moment looking away, before nodding again. Her eyes harden and she stands straighter. Her mood shifting quickly from silent horror to determined within seconds. "Come on, we still have a mission to complete." She says before walking past me back into the hall. I look around the room once more before following suit. Whoever those wings belong to might still be here, and I'm determined to find them.
. . .
I step to the side, out of the way, as Mirko takes a cuffed man and shoves him into the back of the armored van with the others. She doesn't bother being gentle and there is obvious disdain as she makes a show of wiping her hands off on her top as if she touched something dirty. Which in all honesty isn't far from the truth, he was caught trying to escape out a tunnel of some sort with one of the children. Said child is currently sitting in the back of one of the ambulances getting a quick check-up before she joins the other children. None of the medics had had the opportunity to drive the children up to the hospital yet so there was a growing group of them.
I frown and cross my arms over my chest as I look around. We've only caught about 36 of the individuals employed here, most of which were trainers and scientists, there was a Doctor and some nurses setting up a surgical table for some reason, they still have refused to tell us about. On top of only having 36 of the employees we also have only managed to find 5 of the 'Trainees'. All of the children have refused to speak to us, which is saddening but likely caused by conditioning. I hope the little Chicks will come to trust us but it would be understandable if they didn't given what they've been through.
Each and every one of the baby birds appears malnourished and covered from head to toe in bruises and cuts. However thus far there are no broken bones. Most of them are in the double digits but there's one that clearly isn't. The younger baby birds stick close to the older ones but none of them speak, not even to each other. They're all huddled up in the back of the same ambulance, blankets curled around them in an attempt to keep the cold wind away. One of the oldest ones does however seem to keep eyeing my wings curiously. I wonder if they're the one that the wings in the display cases belong to.
"Mirko! Hawks!!" Shouts one of the female police officers as she runs forward, out of the facility, holding a little one close to her. I meet her half way using my wings to propel me forward, Mirko close behind, and frown.
"What's wrong?" Mirko asks, voice soft, placing a gentle hand on the officer's shoulder.
The Officer huffs trying to catch her breath, before straightening and showing us the adorable little Chick in her arms. He's maybe three, can't be much older, and has a large cut going down the side of his face. The blood is dried and flaking so it's not very new. "Sorry to startle you guys," she says sheepishly, still huffing slightly. "I just- I don't know how- how to- deal with, kids." She says meekly looking away. The baby bird in her arms crying softly.
I smile at her reassuringly and nod, reaching to take the little chick without hesitating. "It's alright, I'll take care of him." She looks up and smiles back before carefully handing me the toddler.
I look closer at his cut and frown. It's recent but not too recent and no longer bleeding freely. "Come on little guy let's get you cleaned up." I say calmly and replace my frown with a, hopefully, reassuring smile. I carry him over to one of the empty ambulances. He's still crying as I set him down and reach over to grab a first aid kit.
I coo down at him soothingly and he blinks up at me in surprise. I open one of the antibacterial wipes and unfold it before lightly cleaning up the blood from his cut. As I clean the cut with the wipe he winces but slowly starts to calm down, his tears drying up. I continue cooing softly, setting the dirty wipe down and wiping away his tears with my thumb. I watch as the little one allows his eyes to wander and stops when he notices my wings, which are currently wrapped around us in an attempt to block the young fledgling from the cold air.
His eyes light up like he had not realized they were there and turns to me smiling brightly. "Like Shini!" He shouts happily pointing at my wings. My heart warms at his smile, it's so bright and innocent, and so unlike this place. They hadn't broken him just yet. I have no idea who Shini is but clearly they are important to this little one. I say nothing as I carefully place a bandage over his cut after applying some antiseptic to it.
I carefully pick him up and turn in the direction of the other children. If it's at all possible his smile gets even brighter once he spots them. They all look between me and him protectively and I understand immediately that if they see me make one wrong move, they won't hesitate to attack. I nod at the older ones and carry him over to the small group, wings still curved around him in a way so that the other kids can still see him but also so he's shielded from the majority of the cold. Once the oldest, a boy with long unkempt black hair and patchwork looking skin, has him in his arms, the little one points at my wings again.
"Like Shini!" He giggles happily. The older boy eyes me for a moment before turning back to the toddler, eyes softening.
"Yea, he's got wings like Shini." He says with a faint smile, that makes my heart warm. The little Chicks are just too adorable.
"Who's Shini?" Asks Mirko, suddenly making her presence known.
Startling several of the children, plus myself but no one can prove it, they give her a scowl but none reply. It's obvious they don't trust us so I nod and grab Mirko's arm pulling her along with me as I walk away from the small group of adorable baby birds.
She scowls at me for a moment, arms crossed over her chest, and goes to say something but is quickly cut off by the sound of our earpieces.
"Hawks, we need an assist." Says a somewhat staticy voice over the ear piece.
"What kind of assist?" I ask cautiously, my wings twitching ever so slightly, ready to take flight at a moment's notice.
"We found an avian child," there's a brief pause. "She's been in isolation for, who knows how long, and is attacking anyone that comes within her reach." The voice finishes quickly, the sound of clanging chains in the background makes me grimace.
My experience with other avians, especially younger avians, is limited but I can try my best. "I'll be there in a minute, I need directions to your location." I say flaring my wings. Once the voice gives me the location I'm up in one quick sweeping motion of my wings and flying forward. Once I'm within reach of the door I fling it open and start jogging, I know Mirko is close behind because I hear her footsteps.
. . .
When I reach the door to the room the young avian is in I quickly open it, not allowing myself even a moment to calm my breathing. The site before me makes my feathers ruffle and my blood boil. In the center of the room stands a young avian girl, large wings flared, and arms chained to the wall behind her.
Her eyes are wide and almost feral. She's thin and pale yet there's still obvious muscle coiling around her thin frame. But the most unsettling thing of all is the fact that she isn't making a single noise, not a sound. The only noise being made by her is the clanging of the chains as she strains against them. She's either trying to get to the other people in the room, a few unconscious people already laying at her feet, or she's simply trying to get free from the chains. Maybe it's both.
Her long black hair hangs down over her face as she stares menacingly at the group of heroes and police officers. When I open my wings slowly to fly above them all, her eyes quickly snap to me and she freezes. I stare back and try to think. She knows I'm here now so my original plan won't work. Finally I decide to step forward, coutisley not breaking eye contact for even a moment. I flare my wings to make them look bigger, although I hate to admit it but I think her wings are larger than mine, what type of avian is she?
Her gaze doesn't waver as I step closer towards her. She may be looking at me but it's obvious she's still aware of everyone else in the room as well. Any time someone makes a noise her wings twitch ever so slightly. The fledgling doesn't know who we are, or who I am, so she's on guard, trying to see if she's the dominant avian, trying to see who all is a threat to her. I can hear her heartbeat, beating rapidly but she doesn't visibly look scared or on edge. Her expression is almost unreadable if I'm completely honest.
I hear the sound of a gun caulking and the fledgling hears it too, whoever decided they needed a gun will definitely be hearing from me later. The young avians head snaps over to were the sound came from and a look of pure terror crosses her face. Anger flares in me but I push it down, avians can sense emotional changes and I don't want to scare her further. I take the opportunity to fly back behind the young avian girl and wrap my arms around her wings and pin them down before quickly grabbing her arms as well. She struggles against me but I don't budge as I lean down so she's the only one that hears me as I speak.
"Calm down, you're safe now," I hiss lowly and keep my voice harsh. It's meant to alert her avian instincts that I'm the dominant raptor here, not her. "No one is going to hurt you." She doesn't stop struggling so I try to think of another way to calm her down, I close my eyes and search my instincts for anything.
Finally it comes to me and I decide to do something reminiscent of a parent calming their child. I hesitate for a moment before I sink my fangs into the nape of her neck and she tenses. But after a moment she stops fighting and relaxes slightly, only slightly. Her avian instincts recognize the action almost instantly. I stay like that for a moment longer before releasing her.
"We are here to help you." I say with a hiss, my arms still holding her wings and arms down tightly. She looks up at me cautiously after a moment.
''Promise?" She asks, her brow furrowed, skeptically. Her voice is rough and barely audible, it sounds as if she hasn't spoken in a while. It's almost strange compared to her actions from mere minutes ago. And I wouldn't doubt it if that hurt.
"I promise, fledgling." I say looking her in the eyes, trying to show her somehow that I'm being honest. Finally she relaxes and nods slightly, resting her head against my shoulder. I loosen my hold on her and her wings droop ever so slightly. She still isn't 100% relaxed and I don't expect her to be.
How long has she had to fight? How long has she been stuck in this place, in this hell. I look down and see blood dripping down her palms from where the chains broke skin. She's still looking at me when she faints, her adrenaline no longer coursing through her veins. The small bit of peace she finds causing her to pass out. I hold her upright and motion for someone to remove her cuffs.
Once the cuffs are off I easily lift her into my arms, she's far lighter than she should be, and smile down at her sadly. "You're safe now, fledgling," I say softly and glance at her wings once more. She has large black wings… and they fade from vibrant red, to orange, to yellow. "I won't let anyone hurt you again."