A/N: Despite the super edgy names some of these characters have, they aren't OCs. Also, this is set in early 2015.
Secret Avengers: Darkhawk
Chapter 1 - Dawn of the Darkhawk
How could he do this? He was a police officer, he spoke all about being a better person. Constantly preaching about truth, justice, and the American way. Chris Powell took a swig of whiskey he stole from his dad's private stash. He gritted his teeth against the burning liquid. Chris hated the taste of alcohol, but he needed to forget what he saw. His father, the model police officer, the paragon of New York City... taking bribes.
Chris shook his head as he thought about the situation. Every detail was seared into his brain. His dad was his hero, the man he always looked up to. Chris sank back into the leather seat of his old beater of a car. He was in an empty parking lot near the Queensboro bridge, the chilling midnight air invaded through the gaps in the car's doors and windows. The glow from the Manhattan skyline pierced through the night's sky. The city's lights were struggling thanks to the damage from the Incident a few years back, but the Big Apple's resolve still shone through.
He rubbed his fingers through his long brown hair, Chris had to just get away from the entire situation. The anger, disappointment, fear, and sorrow all swelled within him. Adding liquor to the equation did not help things in the least bit. Deep down Chris knew sitting alone in this lot slugging stolen alcohol wasn't the right way to handle the situation. Hell, he was only seventeen, he could get arrested. At this point, though, he didn't know what else to do. He clumsily retrieved his cellphone and turned it on, the bright screen illuminated the entirety of his car's interior.
His phone showed no new notifications; no texts, no calls, not even an email. Hours ago in his panic, Chris blew up his friends' phones, hoping to get somebody to calm him down. Obviously that didn't work. He slammed his fists against the wheel in response and accidentally set off the horn, "God dammit!" Was all he could muster before he lifted the bottle of whiskey to his lips again. Chris chugged as much as he could, tears welling in his eyes from the searing pain in his throat. He threw the bottle down and grimaced from the taste. He regretted not picking up any chasers.
After battling with the aftertaste, a faint red light caught his attention. Chris was parked outside of an old storage facility, one that was bombed out during the Invasion. Damage Control had only cleared out the large and dangerous pieces of debris from the building. They mainly put their restoration efforts in residential areas and Downtown. The red light flickered from inside one of the dilapidated storage units, shining from inside a hole in the wall facing him. It almost seemed to realize he was looking at it as the red glow intensified.
If Chris was sober, it would have registered that this was an extremely bad idea. Almost like it was completely out of his control, he shut his car off and grabbed his Letterman jacket before opening the door. He slipped the jacket on before stumbling out of the car. Chris kept his head on a swivel as he made his way across the parking lot, last thing he needed right now was someone seeing him. The red luster beckoned for him to discover whatever it was, this was more than just human curiosity. It felt almost like he was under a spell.
He squeezed his way through a hole in the fence at the edge of the parking lot. Chris looked back one last time to check if there were any spectators. Nope, the only thing staring back was his decrepit car. With a relieved sigh, he picked up a brisk jog to the storage unit that held the red light. Upon reaching his destination, he took care getting his footing on the rubble leading to the damaged wall. His vision blurred and every movement felt like it was in slow motion. Chris eventually lost his balance and crashed down upon the rubble.
A sharp pain radiated from his shoulder as it made contact with the mangled brick and mortar, "Ugh, crap..." Chris clutched his shoulder and laid down on the pile of debris for a moment. His persistence showed as he brought himself back up to his feet and made it to the top of the pile. He grabbed the edge of the hole for support and peeked inside the storage unit. He scanned through the grimy room before laying eyes on the source of the luminescence.
It was a gem, one unlike he ever saw. Despite the obvious red color, it was in the shape of a marquise diamond and looked almost as large as his fist! His eyes lit up and his jaw dropped as he examined the precious stone. Chris quickly made his way towards the gem and knelt down beside it, "What the Hell?" He blurted out before reaching for the stone. It sent a quick bolt of red energy at the approaching hand causing him to recoil back. He quickly checked his hand for any injury before staring back at the stone in shock.
Before he could utter another word, the stone leapt towards him and attached itself to his chest, "Oh God! Oh God!" Chris frantically began tugging at the diamond to try and remove it. A metallic, navy colored, armor began ejecting out of the gem and enveloped the teenager. He could no longer feel the cold night's air and his vision adopted a red tint.
"What is happening!?" Chris shouted to himself as he hobbled around the storage unit, his feet clanked against the concrete floor, "Someone help! Anyone!"
Chris patted his chest around the diamond and found his shirt and Letterman were replaced by this new metallic armor. His body went into full panic mode as he quickly glanced around the room for any explanation.
"Raptor armor version 2.0.1 'Darkhawk' online. Razor Interface online," A voice boomed from inside Chris' head.
He jumped from fright at the sudden noise and looked around again, "What? Who said that? Hello!?" He grabbed at his face but was only greeted by the same metallic armor that covered the rest of his body. His mind instantly set on one thing: he needed to see what he had become, "I need a mirror!" He nervously called out to himself.
"No reflective materials in the immediate area."
Chris sprang up again upon hearing the voice, "Is this a joke!? Who are you? Come out!" He gave a moment for any response, "Please...?"
"Code-named: Razor. This voice is a manifestation of the artificial intelligence built into this suit."
Chris almost laughed with relief, he wasn't crazy, "Uh, suit?"
"You are inhabiting a Raptor Combat Suit, code-named 'Darkhawk.'"
"Combat suit? W-what like Iron Man?"
"Unable to answer user's question. Insufficient knowledge on 'Iron Man.'"
Chris shook the suit's response off and quickly climbed out of the storage unit. It was like his intoxication disappeared as he expertly made his way through the rubble pile and back outside. He made a break for his car, unleashing a full sprint. Something didn't feel right, however. He was going way faster than he ever ran before, and it barely took any effort. He covered a long distance in an astonishingly short amount of time. Before he even realized it, he was back at the fence in front of the parking lot. He was going way too fast to stop.
"Christ!" He yelped before raising his arms to cover his face from the impact. A sharp shearing sound invaded his ears as he tore through the chain link fence. He tumbled towards the ground from the impact but recovered with inhuman perfection and speed. Chris couldn't even form the proper words as he continued to dash towards his car, "No! No! No!" He stuttered before his body slammed into the driver's side door, ripping off the side view mirror and leaving a large dent in the car. He shook his head at the damage he caused, "Come on..."
The side view mirror dangling from the car was highlighted a bright yellow against his red vision, "Mirror," The suit stated matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, thanks," Chris stood up and lifted the mirror in both nervousness and excitement to see what he currently looked like, "Holy shi-" His body was covered head to toe in the navy blue armor that stuck to tightly against his skin. Bulky silver pauldrons encased his shoulders, clashing against the darkness of the main suit. A silver collar covered his neck and he had two large silver gauntlets on his forearms. His eyes were covered by a glowing red visor with a silver accent that covered his mouth and ended in a point on his forehead. His visor was the same shade as the red diamond embedded in his chest. The final deviance from the navy armor was a silver belt that hugged his waist.
Before another thought could escape his mind, he and his entire surroundings were suddenly washed over with flashing red and blue lights, "Police! Step away from the vehicle!" A man ordered Chris from behind.
Following his instincts he turned around and saw a police cruiser with both doors open and two officers pointing their weapons at him, "Don't shoot!" Chris raised both his arms over his head. This caused a set of metal wings to extend from his arms, freaking him out even more.
Luckily the officers didn't open fire, "Hey, wait are you that Falcon guy? The one that rolls with Cap?" The officer stepped out from behind his door and approached Chris, "Ah man, you get new threads or something?"
As he was walking towards Chris the other officer kept his pistol raised at him, causing it to be highlighted yellow in his vision, "Hostile threat detected, deploying countermeasures."
Chris turned his head to the side and started whispering, "Deploying wha-" Before he could finish a bright beam of energy erupted from the crystal in his chest, ripping through the police cruiser.
He was speechless and watched in horror as the officers scrambled back behind the doors of their cruiser, "Light him up!" One of them yelled out and the pair of pistols started firing at Chris.
"Hostile engagement detected, combat mode engaged," Chris' body turned towards one of the officers and his arms extended out automatically.
"No! No combat mode!" Chris yelled in protest as the police continued shooting at him. Some of their shots hit their mark, but Chris barely flinched at the bullets, "Just get me out of here!"
"Complying," Without further warning the suit lifted itself into the air and flew away from the assaulting officers. Chris could do nothing more but scream in terror as he witnessed his ascent into the night's sky. He flailed about in shock trying to reach for anything that would stabilize him, "Operator's movements obstructing flight path, overriding."
After the Interface finished speaking, Chris' body snapped to position with his arms in front of his his head and his legs trailing behind, "I think I'm gonna barf..." He felt an acidic pain rise through his chest.
"Vomiting while in the Darkhawk suit would be... problematic," The suit's helmet retracted allowing Chris to feel the breeze hit his face as he flew above Queens.
He took in the view for a moment, stunned by its beauty. Then, almost instantly, he emptied his stomach contents in a violent session of heaving. Chris cringed as he witnessed his puke fall to the streets below. He mustered a, "Crap," Before falling unconscious, his newly acquired suit still flying across the city.