Chapter Text
Dabi slid a plate of food over to Hawks before putting together one for himself. Hawks sat perched on a stool at the counter, leaving Dabi to lean against the island as he dug into his own food. They silently ate for a few minutes before Hawks piped up, smirking some at Dabi.
“How sweet of you to make us dinner. So domestic of you Dabi. I didn’t know you were capable of such things,” he teased, eyebrows bouncing to emphasize his words. Dabi settled him with a flat, unimpressed look.
“You’re a fucking idiot, bird brain. I’m not a fucking animal and anyway I’m sick and tired of shitty takeout and for some reason, that’s the only thing you have in this place.” The small amount of his cheeks that were left intact and the unmarred skin on his chest prickled some in embarrassment. He wasn’t lying but there was something domestic about the whole situation.
“First off,” Hawks pointed his chopsticks in Dabi’s direction, “I buy good takeout.”
“You cannot possibly call KFC ‘good takeout’ . You’re more delusional than I thought.”
“Okay, but it is good and it’s not all I get.”
“Your diet until I started cooking was ninety-five percent KFC and various other fried chicken places. I’m surprised you aren’t dying of malnutrition or fucking scurvy.”
Hawks was quiet for a moment before he took another bite. Dabi felt like he was missing something, but Hawks seemed to perk back up to his normal annoying self the next moment.
“Well, I will say, I’m not complaining about the cooking. Just didn’t see S Tier villain Dabi being one to putter around a kitchen cooking.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t expect Number Two Prohero Hawks to not be able to feed himself.” Hawks bristled some but was quick to jab back with his own teasing insult.
They continued like that for some time. Occasionally Hawks would lean a little too close into his personal space or say something borderline soft, and that caused Dabi to shove at him or reply with something biting to get the idiot to shut up. It was an odd sing and dance, and Dabi wasn’t going to allow the hero to get too close even if there was a part of him who wanted to let the gentle touches land or to give in to the flirting more than just his own sarcastic retorts. What he wanted didn’t matter, though, since he was a villain using Hawks for info and Hawks was a hero doing just the same.
By the time Dabi was back on the streets, wandering back to his own rundown apartment away from the League and away from Hawks, the sun had settled below the horizon. It was good. Even if Dabi was dressed relatively innocuously in sweats, a hoodie, and mask, the cover of dark was a comfort. We was walking, uninterrupted, for about twenty minutes before the world around him seemed to jerk and spin. The vertigo was intense, and the sudden onset headache that accompanied it send Dabi to his hands and knees on the damp ground. Dabi’s mind was racing to all possibilities. The only thing that kept popping up was that his dinner was poisoned, but that couldn’t be possible. He made dinner. Hawks never touched his plate the whole night except when he took it to wash the dishes. If it wasn’t that, then what was it?
Before he could think much else, Dabi’s vision blurred and whited out for a split second. The headache subsided to a dull ache and vertigo came swinging to a halt. Dabi heaved up dinner. He spit the sour taste out of his mouth and wiped at his mouth with the back of his knuckles. When his fingers didn’t brush against metal at the corner of his mouth, Dabi’s mind came slamming into another realization. His fingers carefully trailed along his face and while the lack of marred skin and staples was alarming, so was the fact that he could feel his fingers dragging across his face. He looked down at his hands, finally, and didn’t see deep purple scars there either. Instead, he saw two metal gauntlets that seemed to share some similarity to quirk-suppressing handcuffs. He could still feel the warm thrum of his quirk just below his palms, though so that wasn’t the case. Dabi scrambled for his phone and realized he was also in an outfit similar to his normal villain get-up.
The search for a phone turned up a nice smartphone with only a small crack on the corner of the screen. Dabi immediately went to the camera and looked at a face that was both familiar but also completely unrecognizable. It was him, black dyed hair and all, but his face and neck only had minor burn scars. They were a softer pink, looking similar to Shouto’s scar. The other, smaller, differences were the addition of more piercings now that he lacked numerous staples, and it seemed that he had not been up on his dye routine as white and red roots were just starting to show.
Dabi quickly closed out of the camera app and went to his contacts. There were many more contacts than his normal phone, some of which were individuals by name and others were his own nicknames. He could pair some with people he knew. Dusty was Shigaraki. Vampire Queen couldn’t be anyone but Toga. And Pretty Bird was undoubtedly Hawks.
Dabi was sure of one thing and a little less so sure of the other. One, he was clearly not his normal self, and two, this had to be a quirk accident but he couldn’t recall any quirk that did shit like this or recall running into any new villain recruits that could have caused this. He needed to lay low and get his bearings. He could crash with the League, but he didn’t fully trust them. He could go to his apartment as he wanted, but if this is different who knows what else is. And, finally, he could turn to Hawks. That also seemed like a high-risk situation, but looking at his options he felt like this was his only viable option.
It took Dabi a bit to gain his bearings, but reaching Hawks’ apartment was relatively easy. It was only until he hefted himself up onto the balcony that he realized there was a possibility Hawks did not live here. He stared into the dark living room which looked unrecognizable from the apartment he had left not long ago. Dabi found Hawks’ apartment to be depressing and stifling at the same time. It felt like it came straight out of a catalog. Felt like no one was allowed to live in there. It was a familiar feeling from his childhood. This apartment, though, was nothing like that. It looked well lived in and personalized. There were various blankets and pillows on the couch and chairs. Pictures and books and different knick-knacks were on the inset shelves that were on either side of the TV. More than a couple of pairs of shoes sat at the entrance. The walls had actually been painted differently than the off-white default color, though Dabi couldn’t fully make it out in the dark. The only thing that reassured him that this was the right place was Hawks’ work coat thrown over the back of the couch and his boots that sat at the front door.
Even if this was still Hawks’ place, he was quiet as he let himself in through the unlocked sliding glass door. Just as he slid the door shut, the light in the hall leading towards Hawks’ room flicked on and a comfortable-looking Hawks walked in, empty glass in hand. Both of them froze, staring at each other before Hawks finally spoke up.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hawks blurted out. He didn’t seem alarmed just tired and confused. He gave his head a small shake and tried again. “I mean why are you coming in from the balcony? Weren’t you on patrol? Are you okay?” Confusion melts into concern and he sets his glass down on the kitchen counter before quickly crossing the room to get to Dabi who was still frozen, pressed up against the balcony door. It only takes a moment of Hawks patting him down, starting at the cheeks, to finally kick Dabi back into gear. Dabi swats the doting hands away, trying to make more space between them. To his surprise, Hawks catches on and steps back to give him some room. Unfortunately, this seemed to increase the visible concern on Hawks’ face which was… new. He’d never seen the other man use so much genuine expression openly.
“What the fuck are you even going on about, Hawks?” Dabi snapped, finally gaining his bearings. Hawks’ expression does something that he’s actually used to and it clears into something neutral. Hawks took another step back, giving Dabi a wider birth.
“Okay, look, why don’t we sit down? I think I know what’s going on, so,” he casts a slightly concerned glance to Dabi’s hands, “let’s cut the pyrotechnics. I pay for good insurance, but one thing they can’t help me get back is the personal shit.” His eyes flicker again, this time to the nearest framed photo. Dabi’s eyes follow and what he settles on sends his blood pressure skyrocketing again. It was a photo of his family (why the fuck did Hawks have a picture of his family?). Amongst his siblings, though, was his mother in the middle. And tucked against her side stood a familiar form. A familiar form that looked so alien. Dabi stood among his family, smiling at the camera as he stood at his mother’s side. As he had seen earlier, his skin wasn’t mottled with intense purple scars but did have softer-looking pink-ish scars. Dabi felt like he was going to throw up again.
Hawks moved again, causing Dabi to look back at him. He had his hands raised in a placating gesture, almost like Dabi was a wild animal. Maybe he looked like one. It was only then that he noticed his fists engulfed in blue flames. The fucked up part? He, at worse, felt a tingling to his exposed skin. The gauntlet must be doing something. Dabi sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment. The breath he let out was shaky and matched his trembling hands as he extinguished his own fire. He felt a bit numb as he allowed Hawks to lead him to an armchair as Hawks took a seat on the couch, turned to face him.
Hawks didn’t bother dithering as he’s prone to do. Like the few times when things get particularly serious, Hawks gets right to the point. “It’s going to sound insane, but you’re from an alternate reality. Now just- Just let me explain, okay?” Hawks scrubbed at his face some, trying to organize his thoughts. “Okay, so there’s this villain that’s currently on the loose whose quirk has the power to swap the consciousness of his victim with their own consciousness but in an alternate reality. Wild, I know, but really what do you expect at this point? Anyway, obviously, his quirk went unregistered until now. The Hero Commission only caught a whiff of this dude when he started posting on online forums, boasting about what he could do. Commission has been on his ass, trying to track him down and as such, they sent their dogs to do the work.” He had sounded frustrated and tired as he spoke of the Commission up until this point. Now, Hawks looked hesitant. “And, uh, you- the you from this reality- went to hunt this guy down.” Dabi could see himself doing that. It wasn’t too outlandish. “Per order of the Commission.” And there it is.
Dabi closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath and letting it out before he looked back at Hawks. “What the fuck do you mean?”