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Aizawa has never really had many interactions with Hawks. On a technical level, they’re coworkers, because they are both pro heroes, but Aizawa greatly dislikes Hawks and has always tried very hard to stay away from him.
Everything about the kid rubs him the wrong way, from his connections and loyalty to the Commision, to his age. Hawks was only eighteen years old when he started his own agency, hardly two years older than Aizawa’s children at UA. It was bizarre. It rubbed him the wrong way, and does even now.
When Hawks had inquired about having Tokoyami for his work study, Aizawa had needed time to mull the offer over before he even told Tokoyami about it. He eventually decided that it should ultimately be Tokoyami’s decision, but it made him no less nervous.
After that he’d thought maybe he had been wrong, and Hawks was a perfectly capable and reliable hero. He’s going back, now, though, staring at a shivering, wingless, blood-soaked Hawks.
“Your job was to keep the villain away from here!” Aizawa hisses, pointing aggressively towards Hawks. “And now someone’s dead. Get that damn look off your face!” Hawks is hardly breathing, watching as the EMT’s wrap up the body of a young woman. The villain is restrained, some feet away. “Idiot, look at me when I’m talking to you.”
“I-” Hawks’ mouth opens and closes for a moment, and his eyes do flick up to Aizawa at his command. Like a reflex. “I don’t have-”
“A brain?” Aizawa interrupts, furiously. “What don’t you have? Any common fucking sense? The ability to follow simple orders? Can’t you handle one little villain on your own?” He knows he’s being unnecessarily cruel, but really, that’s how he gets his point across. Aizawa doesn’t know how to be gentle when it’s anyone other than his students. He’s lost people too, every hero has. You can’t save anyone. “You should really stop worrying about your approval rating and start trying to actually save people.”
“I was- I-” Hawks’ stammer finally catches Aizawa’s attention, and it makes him peer a little closer at his fellow hero. “I tried, I just- my wings, I-” He’s trembling, Aizawa notes. It’s subtle, mostly just in his outstretched hands, but there’s a light tremor to Hawks’ entire body. His wings are gone, too. Aizawa had seen them burning, briefly, but he didn’t see it to be a problem, since Hawks seemed to be handling things without them.
He realizes that he is being unfair. Hawks did manage to subdue the villain alone, with only one casualty. Really, that’s very good.
“Please don’t tell them I f- screwed up,” Hawks begs, suddenly. He sounds so different than Aizawa knows him to, his voice as shaky as the rest of him. “I’m sorry, I am, I tried- I didn’t mean for it to go this way.” Hawks holds his hands out in a placating gesture, as if Aizawa is the one working himself into a state. “They don’t- please don’t tell them.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about, Hawks,” Aizawa says, moving closer in a slow, methodical manner. Hawks’ chest is rising and falling rapidly, much quicker than a moment ago, and he’s beginning to look frightened. “But it’s ok, you didn’t mess up-”
“I did, but please, you can’t tell them,” Hawks pleads. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know,” Aizawa promises, cautiously. “I’m not telling anyone anything. Why don’t we sit down and try to breathe for a moment, huh? I think we’re both tired, and we’ve had a very difficult battle.” But Hawks doesn’t really seem to be listening, threading his fingers into his hair. His eyes are like a wild animal’s, and Aizawa mentally kicks himself for making that connection, even if he didn’t mean it that way. “Hawks, sit.”
Hawks drops to the ground at the command, just like he had obeyed when Aizawa had told him to look, earlier.
“Good,” Aizawa praises, sitting cross-legged in front of him. “You’re doing very well, Hawks.” Now this is something he knows how to do. He can handle a little panic attack, he does it so often. “Take a breath in.” As horrifying as Hawks’ obedience may be, he finds it to be rather useful in this specific circumstance.
“I’m sorry,” Hawks whimpers, breathing out, then back in, in a practiced method. This is not his first panic attack, clearly, and he has obviously been taught how to handle them.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Aizawa dismisses. “Would you like to hold my hand?” Hawks eyes him, even through his panic, but reaches out to take the offered hand. “Good. When I squeeze, you breathe in, and when I stop, you breathe out. Ok?” Hawks does as instructed, taking shuddering, stunted inhales whenever his hand is lightly squeezed. “You’re doing very well.”
“Th-thank you,” Hawks stutters, eyes trained on the sky.
“Do your wings hurt?” Aizawa asks, when Hawks is calm enough that he doesn’t need Aizawa to guide his breathing. For a moment, the younger hero doesn’t make any kind of response, but just when Aizawa decides he isn’t going to answer, he nods.
“A little,” it sounds like it genuinely pains him more to admit it than the actual wings do. “My feathers are sensitive, and burning them always hurts a bit.” Aizawa glances at the charred appendages. He thinks they probably hurt more than Hawks is letting on. “Are you going to tell them about my mistake?”
“No,” Aizawa says. He still doesn’t know who ‘they’ are, but Hawks doesn’t seem to be in the state to answer questions like that. “I think there’s still an ambulance waiting, helping some more of the civilians. Why don’t we go over to them and have them look at your wings?”
“No,” Hawks’ hand withdraws, and he stands, quickly. “That’s ok, they don’t need any care or anything. They’ll grow back just fine on their own.”
“I believe you, but it couldn’t hurt to let them see, anyway.”
“No, it’s ok,” Hawks says again. “I should be going anyway.”
“Hawks-”
“Hawks,” Aizawa is cut off by a voice that sounds suspiciously like the Commision president. Hawks freezes where he stands. It’s a subtle movement, one Aizawa wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t so adept at reading people. “It’s time to go.” It is the Commision president.
“He needs medical attention, first,” Aizawa says. He doesn’t like the way Hawks is staring at the president. He looks terrified.
“He will be seen to,” the president says, coldly. “Let’s go, Hawks.” The obedience is back, and Hawks disappears into a shiny black car. Aizawa has a sneaking suspicion that the Commision is who Hawks did not want him to talk to.
