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If there’s one thing Hawks loves, it’s his job. Really, believe it or not, he loves his job. Being a hero had been his dream since the moment he learned they were real. But for as much as he loves it, it can be incredibly grueling. Flying around all the time is very nearly the same as sprinting everywhere, even if it’s made easier by all the endurance training he’d been made to do.
Saving people is so very rewarding, incredibly worthwhile, but sometimes he wishes he could have a break.
Hawks is indentured to the Hero Public Safety Commision, per a contract he and his mother signed nearly sixteen years ago. Because of it, he does what he is told, goes where instructed, and does not talk back or argue.
Sometimes that involves picking up more shifts than are strictly legal. And rules like that are particularly strict, for all except for him. An ordinary hero cannot work more than eight hours at a time, the exception being those who are actively handling an emergency. Like an ongoing fire of which they are one of few heroes available.
But Hawks works for as long as the Commision tells him to, and no less. They say twelve hours, he patrols twelve hours. No question, no argument, just a nod and a false salute.
He is currently going on his thirty-second hour of work without a break. He has spent most of that time in the air, so it hasn’t been quite as strenuous as if he were fighting villains the entire time, but he still feels like he’s about to fall out of the air.
Worst of all, he’s reaching the limit of time he knows he can spend awake before things really go South. He can tell he’s being tested again. The Commision wants to push him past his record, push past the blurred vision and slurred words. He thinks it’s probably dangerous, but if he’s saving anyone at all, it’s worth it.
That’s what the Commision tells him, at least.
It’s on the tail end of this thirty-second hour that he spots Eraserhead crouched on a roof. Before this year, Hawks wouldn’t have even looked twice at the man, but since taking Tokoyami under his wing, Aizawa stands out.
“Eraser man!” Hawks shouts, stumbling harshly as he lands beside his mentee’s teacher. “How’s it goin’?” Eraserhead glares at him through his eyelashes,
“Hawks,” Eraser drawls, turning his gaze back on the city below them. “I could’ve sworn I saw you on the news earlier this morning.”
“You probably did,” Hawks shrugs, maneuvering himself so his legs dangle off the lip of the roof. “They kinda like me, you know. Number Two, and all that jazz.”
“It was a fight,” Eraser continues, like Hawks never spoke. “From this morning. It was live coverage.”
“Ok?” Hawks doesn’t understand. He feels slow and loopy, like he’s been drugged heavily. He must sound like it too, if the way Eraser is eyeing him is any indication. “And?”
“That was fifteen hours ago,” Eraser replies, checking his watch. “Why are you still out?”
“Crime never sleeps, my dear Eraser,” Hawks waggles a finger at him. “You of all people should know that.” There’s no real reason for him to say that, but Eraserhead looks like he never sleeps either, so Hawks decides he has a point and has thus won the argument. He triumphantly crosses his arms.
“When did your shift start?” Eraser asks, surveying the city the same way Hawks would. The difference is, Hawks is sure Eraserhead cannot see as far as he can. Hawks mimes zipping his lips. He’s been told before to keep quiet on his little ‘overtime’ work. Apparently the other heroes might get ‘jealous’ and start asking questions they aren’t meant to be asking. “Come on, we can do this the easy way, where you tell me how long you’ve been going, or we do this the hard way, where I have to go digging for your first appearance since your last one.”
“That just sounds hard for you, not me,” Hawks points out.
“And I’ll lodge a formal complaint against you and get you barred from working with UA ever again,” Eraserhead says. “Tokoyami will be moved to a different agency by the morning.”
“Thirty-two hours,” Hawks replies, without thinking. Some part of his brain went blank at the threat of losing Tokoyami. It’s making him even more loose-lipped than just the exhaustion. “I’ve been working for the last thirty-two hours.” There’s a long moment where he and Eraser do nothing but stare at each other.
“Straight?” Eraser all but shouts. He sounds shocked, and mildly horrified. It’s more emotion than Hawks thinks he has ever heard from the man.
“Now, now, Eraser, I think we both know I’m anything but-”
“That’s illegal, you do realize?” Eraser interrupts, looking stern. His eyes are wide open, like he’s about to activate his Quirk. “You’re putting people’s lives in danger. You haven’t rested at all? Slept? Eaten?”
“I think you’re one to talk about sleep-”
“I sleep before patrol, always, because if I’m not on top of my game, people get hurt,” Eraser says. “And I never go over unless I have to. If I can’t sleep before my shift I call out, because that’s not a risk I can decide to take. Other’s lives are not our risks to take.”
“But it’s ok,” Hawks assures him, very convincingly. “Because some is always better than none. If I can save someone then it’s worth it.” Eraser’s Quirk activates, and it feels like Hawks’ wings have simply vanished. He hears them hit the ground, meaning they’ve gone limp, but there are no sensations. The world feels suffocatingly silent. “Give them back!” He screams, twisting and trying to grab hold of them. “Fucking give them back, Eraser!” His Quirk releases.
“I don’t usually use it on Mutation types,” he admits. “Interesting reaction.” Hawks glares. “Alright, fine, I’m sorry. But you need to understand how dangerous what you’re doing is. Why would the Commision even allow this?”
“They made me,” Hawks says, combing his fingers through his feathers while straightening them with his mind. “They want me to work longer. Makes me better.” He’s sleepy, and now he’s distracted.
“I don’t even- what?” Hawks has never seen Eraser so shocked, either. He’s experiencing a whole bunch of new things today, it seems. “That’s not- that’s not right at all.” Hawks shrugs. Now that he’s sitting, he just wants to sleep. “Ok, so you haven’t slept in over thirty-two hours.” A nod. “Would you rather go to UA or your apartment? ‘cause you’re going somewhere to sleep now.”
“I can’t,” Hawks moans. “They’ll get mad at me.”
“Then they can take it up with me,” Eraser says. Hawks knows that is not going to happen, that he will absolutely be the one receiving a punishment, but he’s too exhausted to argue. So he allows Eraser to drag him to his apartment and shove him into bed, still fully clothed. There’s a bowl of cold soup on the nightstand when he wakes up, several hours later. He chuckles at the sight of it.