"He's disassociating."

Naomasa turned to the woman beside him who was tapping a rhythm against her clipboard with the edge of a pen.

"The blood test found narcotics in his system, nothing the withdrawal of which would kill him, but it certainly won't be something he can ignore."

"Right, it was in the report, but I'm sure there's more than withdrawal, Detective. Did he answer any of your questions? Did he ask any questions?"

Naomasa sipped at his coffee with a quick nod and responded, "Answer no, but he did ask about the status of the Hero who was injured at the scene. We are currently investigating their relationship."

After a moment, a long sigh, filled with the tension of the enclosed soundproof room, left Naomasa's lips and he began, "Since you are here as a favor to Endeavor-san, we'd like to ask you, after your evaluation, if you could." Naomasa passed a paper to her. "Try to obtain this information from him?"

"I'm not an interrogator, Detective."

Naomasa scratched the back of his head, "I'll say it's a request from the top and leave it at that."

"...I'll make an effort."

"Thank you."

Drowning in air. Dabi heard the door open and footsteps, but his gaze was fixed to the cool metal table. They'd strapped him back against the chair when they realized he might attempt to hurt himself and they were correct to do so as his mind drifted to the corner wondering if he slammed his head down hard enough could he crack his skull?

A woman's voice filtered through his thoughts and he looked up.

"...it's nice to meet you… Todoroki Touya, right?"

Each syllable dropped his eyes back to the table. Another one, another person pretending to understand, another person who knew nothing.

"Ah, but that's what they told me. Do you have a name you'd prefer?"

Dabi blinked, things were misty and he looked up again, without realizing it he'd mumbled it.

"Dabi-san, it's nice to meet you," she repeated.

It was strange, the air he breathed was warm and slid down his throat in the shape of a plastic cylinder, forcing him to keep sucking down air without his approval. Nothing else mattered but one thing and the detective's avoided the damn question every time he asked it.

Is Hawks alive?

Now with this woman in front of him, he expected the same, another person wanting everything he had with nothing to give. Someone had given him something, but he didn't know if that someone was still inhaling. Would they breathe the same air again? He just wanted to know that there was a chance, outside these cold cement walls, that molecules of his life could, by some miracle of nature, drift toward him once again.

As the woman gently set down a few papers, shuffling them with clear intention, Dabi decided there was no point in stalling the pointless endeavor.

"Is Hawks alive?"

The woman met his eyes with a gentle-look, something he had not seen in any officers that had set foot before him, nor in the man who still called himself his father. She smiled a bit, setting down the sheet in her hand, "Are you worried about him?"

Of course I fucking am I lo-

And he realized it was the first time someone had asked him in that way. He'd heard, why? What's it to you? Why does it matter? Followed by demands of him. Dabi blinked slower.

"...yes…"

"I don't have an answer right this moment, but the next time I come, I promise I can provide you some kind of answer."

Dabi didn't realize his face gave away his hope, a cool sliver of happiness in the thick warm air, his eyes widening slightly and his lips parting just a tad. Then the woman was smiling again, this time larger, reminiscent of someone he cherished.

"Is it okay if I ask you a few more questions? You can choose to answer them or not, I won't be forcing anything from you."

He stared, his mind ringing with her previous statement. Answer, there was a chance he would get an answer, from this woman, from this nobody from this-

"Ah I almost forgot, I have to disclose this, I am Todoroki Enji's mental health consultant, I have been for a few weeks now."

The widening of his eyes grew, in greater understanding, of another lie, another liar, and he dropped his head again.

"I am legally obligated not to speak a word of what you say to me, to him, but I understand just knowing this may make it uncomfortable for you to speak to me at all. If that is the case, I will leave right now."

Dabi chuckled, his body slumping, his eyes flashing up briefly, "You can get the fuck out and you can tell him, nice fucking try."

He saw her smile again in the reflection of the table, the understanding nod, as she collected her papers and stood.

"Dabi-san, please know, if you do ever want to talk, I will keep my promise and bring you an answer to your question. Thank you for your time."

He didn't watch her leave, his fingers itchy, attempting to curl in the special cuffs that enclosed his forearms. Dabi didn't believe there were people who truly kept their promises, or did so without the intent of getting something from it. In this world there was only use-value, no selfless care, no lo-

Dabi blinked again his eyelids heavy and the slip of cold air returning in a wave, coupled with chills and visible trembles. What was the point of enduring when, for him, to know he, there was a lack of coherency. Dabi was a mess, bleeding out in the worst of ways and in desperate need of a tourniquet. He jolted from his own thoughts and without prompting he recalled that evening, so long ago, he did not know how many days, weeks, or months. What a night it was and he'd come out of it… feeling the way he felt now, vaguely hopeful.

But back then, flounders flopping on the edge of a deck were more hopeful than them. Scraped and bruised, burned and shaking, both men dragged themselves apart, both men sucked down mouthfuls of freezing air that burned its way down their hoarse throats. Each for a different reason. One had screamed. The other couldn't have if he tried.

Hawks was first, knees wobbling, a hand on the wall, a hand on his neck.

Dabi was second, knees bracing, a hand on the ground, a hand on his heart.

When Lucifer fell did all the angels that followed go willingly?

One shifted his boot through the gravel and Dabi lurched up like it's heel had slammed into his face, his head tilting back, looking for the ceiling or the sky and finding only darkness peppered with distant stars he kept his eyes above a murky surface.

"Why?"

So it began. The black water rising over his nose, tiny bubbles broke the surface above him and his eyes grew listless.

"Why?"

Hawks repeated it with the strength of someone meant for the sky, carried on a thousand fragile sentiments that glided atop crisp gusts of fading blue embers.

"Touya,"

"Keigo," he mocked.

Dabi heard the sob and his lip twitched with a smile he forced above the gasping, screeching, weeping creature hidden beneath the patches of stapled burned skin.

"Was it true?"

It was at first, it was, but-

If he turned to him now he would break, he knew. So he stayed on his knees praying to nothing while an angel whimpered behind him.

"Touya, look at me."

No, because I'm the villain, because I'm bad, I'm wrong, it's what I'm supposed to do, stupid fucking hero-

"Touya, I thought-"

You were wrong.

"Touya,"

Dabi's knees were aching, his legs starting to tremble, hands empty on his sides. He was gulping hard, holding it down, the creature thrashing inside.

It's voice so soft within.

Baby bird, no

Stupid hero

I'm sorry

You thought-

I'm sorry. I didn't mean it-

Stupid hero

I just need you so much I-

Stupid hero, stupid fucking hero

Like a burst of light, shooting through his skin, a hand yanked him from his knees by his upperarm, his eyes widening as a shining figure forced his gaze.

"Take me to the league."

I'm losing him.

"We had a deal, hold up your fucking end," Hawks' tear-filled eyes were red, his fingers clenching hard enough to leave bruises.

I'm losing him.

Dabi's mouth felt dry, the dread working upward. He needed something tiny, with a chalk-like taste, to roll down his throat and remind him feeling wasn't a thing.

"Dabi,"

He's gone.

"Get fucked."

And so was Dabi.

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" was the first thing Villain Dabi wanted to snarl, but his body was ringing with the sensation of his limb being thrown, discarded, away from Hawks' and back to his own where he knew it belonged. What could he say? What did he want to say? He didn't know, so he was silent, his head lolling forward and he landed on his knees again.

"You were just fucking me to get back at your dad, is that it?" It was rough like shoes atop gravel.

Not at first.

And not at all.

"You were just fucking me to get in with the league, is that it?" Villain Dabi was ready to retort, but he felt like his knees were embedded in concrete and a collar was around his neck, a gold chain keeping him taut with his gaze toward the depths of hell.

"Fuck you."

Baby bird.

"Fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU."

Dabi's face was wet and he made no move. The voice in his head diminished, into something just beneath a whisper, some infinite nothingness crushed beneath a block of stone.

Baby bird.

But the nothing was still something, in a way, it gave space for things that might have never revealed themselves otherwise. Spoken so softly, so plainly, so simply, and yet that made it sear so much more.

"You cheated on me."

The silence laid across them like a heavy blanket with no ends to fold, no corners to match, no creases to smooth. Dabi's shoulders sank with every passing second. It was a dumb thing to say, an obvious thing to say, but nothing else had etched its way up his throat and out from between his mismatched lips in the way those four words had. And what could Hawks say in response? The truth maybe, but would Dabi receive it? No, he received something much worse.

"I cheated on him first."

Dabi nearly vomited, his whole body jerking forward and his palms slapping to the concrete below, shaking again. He considered the roof edge, but would Hawks stop him? Maybe, or maybe he'd be lucky and he'd let him go.

Somehow, somehow, someone somewhere knew why and how, Dabi didn't, but someone else knew. Hawks must have seen it when Dabi turned his head and stared over the edge. And suddenly Dabi was in his angel's arms.

"Don't you fucking dare."

"Let go."

"Don't you fucking dare."

"Get off me."

"Touya don't you fucking dare, look at me you burnt faced motherfucker."

Then there was wrestling, struggling, confused and angry kissing. These men had never communicated well with words, the rest of the conversation happened in the dragging of nails and snapping of teeth into skin, the disheveling of clothes, the furious bucking of hips. It was insanity. After something so horrible, it was pure insanity. Two birds, a hawk and a phoenix maybe, tumbling together naked in the cold wind, arguing with their abdomens and tangled legs.

Then the phoenix was pinned to the concrete the hawk deep inside of him, his body and mind in shock as it was a state he'd only just experienced, but this time he had no control. Legs splayed, hips raised, he was on a strange ethereal high, and the hawk was merciless. Usually, people were described as having the life fucked out of them, yet, somehow, Hawks fucked the life into him. How was he able to? After something so…

It was becoming clear to Dabi that Hawks was simply not of this earth, an erratic and impulsive being with nothing powerful enough to melt the wax that held his wings together.

Reflexive and unhelpful communication methods complete, they had a moment where nothing was wrong, but it didn't make sense, nothing healed, nothing fixed, nothing resolved, just touches of endorphins to smooth an edge and leave them both panting out white clouds into the cold air. And what the hell was Hawks trying to do? Did he even know? Dabi watched him sit up, watched him stand, right his clothing, his eyes looking towards the direction from where they came in search of something. Then Dabi saw the cycle, the dips into something easy, the dips into him, and then his immediate disappearances into thinking about someone else.

I will always be second.

He was a fool to let him close, to let his body succumb to his tender and sometimes rough touches. Dabi's scalp hit the concrete and a grey haze settled in his eyes. Another night, another failure, another one who used and tossed him away.

He'll always go back.

"You're a fucking idiot," Hawks said.

Like being hit square in the chest by a fist, what little breath he'd drawn was knocked out of him.

"No... you're not the idiot, I am," he continued.

Dabi only stared, the fist rising from his chest and letting him take another gulp.

"You think I know what I'm doing?" The hawk, the angel, the young man named Takami Keigo was wiping his face with his gloved hand. "My mission was to join the damn league, not to fall in lo-"

Their eyes met. He'd said it before, but something felt different.

"My mission was to hurt you, not to fall in lo-" Villain Dabi was just as confused and quiet while Todoroki Touya was seething and sobbing, just beneath the surface of his skin, screaming about the pain, the frustration of having made it to a mere second place, the ache of thinking despite it all, after what he'd done, that there may have been, some impossible, improbable, unpalatable chance for things to be okay.

And here Hawks was looking at him golden eyes and all, with longing? Where had the sense gone?

At least when someone spiraled there was some direction, but neither understood what was happening, neither was sure of what to do, and what began as a spiral was now a splattered mess, much like the vomit, drying on the roof.

"Guess..." Hawks laughed like there was some kind of joke to be made of all this, this nonsensical pile of trash. "...I dunno, it was fate or some shit."

And Dabi snorted.

"Fate, huh?"

"Or some shit."

Another chuckle another glob of glue on shattered glass.

"Yeah, you're definitely an idiot."

"You must be a moron-sexual, then."

"Watch it, baby bird."

"Come at me, deep-fried."

And with a chuckle there it was again, Hawks turning, remembering something important to him. Who was Dabi to demand he stay? To not try to repair it all, to tell the angel he couldn't have the world? Dabi finally sat up, studying the way those eyes turned to him. He hated it and yet what was there left to do? He'd set off the bomb and strangely enough, everyone in the ashes and rubble came crawling out wounded and alive. Did Dabi forgive him? No fucking way. But did Hawks forgive him? That couldn't be true, not now, not here, not- Dabi decided loosening his grip on his feathers was another method of surviving an evening of absolute ludicrousy.

"Just go already."

"Touya-"

"Fuck off, wings, or I'm gonna get mad again."

"Do you-"

"Shut the fuck up and get out of here."

A shift and turn, a slide of a boot.

Beneath the burns Touya's voice rose out again, the edges of his eyes straining to release everything he'd always withheld. He'd given him permission and yet he felt he was on the edge of the roof, staring down at the end.
But what was Touya saying. What did Touya say that had Hawks turning back to him with wild, wide eyes.

Dabi didn't hear it, the words that had slipped from his lips when Hawks had turned fully, when he'd taken a step, when Touya realized the angel was about to leave. Whatever he'd said, Hawks was in tears, a gloved hand over his mouth hiding the sob attempting to break through. Whatever it was, Hawks was turning again, and then he was gone.

A trick of the light in the lightless night sky, headed back to an office that no longer welcomed him.

And Dabi and Touya were silent.

Dabi twitched when the door opened again, his face was wet, his eyelids heavier than before. He was righted, guided to a prison cell and left alone where he found himself on his knees, through the wet his head tilted back, once again searching for something in the nothing.

Through the contrasting winds the woman's words were carried back to him on the soft ebb of an unexplained breeze. Through the air, the air that suffocated but also provided, he remained there until his knees were raw and his curved spine aching. He remained there until there was a pause in the endless trembling and he let himself crash to the slate floor. He remained there until he let himself fall asleep.

"He's alive."

It was so beautiful he could cry, but he'd run out of tears only the day before.

"I can't tell you anything else, but I received permission for that much."

Dabi was aware his feet were on the ground. If he was still breathing then…

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Then there was a chance, that they could breathe the same air again, somehow, somewhere, at some point.

"While we're here, are you okay with me asking you a few questions? You are welcome to refuse, unlike the officers, forcing you to talk won't benefit me in any way."

When you give a dog a bone he-

"Okay."

"Alright, thank you. I'll get started with general questions. How old are you?"

"...21, no, 22… maybe."

She must have caught on quickly, his mind was broken and rusty, his answers short and conflicting. By the end he was clearly frustrated and exhausted, unable to recall the simplest things, things that no longer mattered to him.

"I think that's enough for today, thank you Dabi-san," she closed her little folder with that same gentle smile on her face. "Would you be okay with me visiting you once in a while?"

She always asked permission and it plucked at one of the untuned strings residing within him.

"...okay."

She grinned, so doting, but not demeaning he watched her exit this time after she thanked him again.

And for a fraction of a second he thought, there are kind people in this world, but only for a fraction of a second.

Outside the woman shared that same sweet smile with Naomasa who sighed as though nothing had been accomplished.

"Do you suppose he'll give up anything soon?" he asked, the bags under his eyes betraying his exhaustion with the entire affair.

"Detective," she spoke with sympathy but firmness. "Have you heard the phrase, treat someone like dirt and they will be dirt?"

"...I have."

"What you have in front of you, is a criminal, yes, but he's also someone who's faced severe trauma. He carries signs of mental and physical abuse, he's not simply a jaded villain with evil intentions. Yes, you could say he is, but he is also in a lot of pain and if you continue to treat him like merely a criminal, you will see just that, a criminal."

He might have been irked to have been lectured about what was supposed to be a normal aspect of his job, but he nodded his head slowly.

"We did try the good cop, bad cop method on him, but he gave up nothing. This is the first time he has spoken."

"The man he mentioned, Hawks, right?"

"Yes,"

"If he refuses to speak about nothing else, then why not simply talk to him about Hawks?"

"...we try to keep their knowledge of the outside limited because-"

"Detective, I'm not telling you how to do your job, I'm merely suggesting that you give him the information about the status of his loved one in order to get him to speak of anything."

Naomasa's eyebrow perked, his hand cupping over his mouth as he processed the statement, "Loved one?"

"It should have been obvious to you all, he's thrown away his freedom for this person, how can you think their relationship is anything else but love?"

Unhealthy, explosive, poorly conveyed, love.

Recovery was a long process and though Hawks' wounds were healed, every slash in his mind and heart was left to fester, avoided due to the strength of the aches on his surface. Hawks smiled too much, was too happy, excited to be free, to be cleared, to see Endeavor and Dabi again and continue, in some strange way, continue as they had before the night on Endeavor's desk.
Yes, Hawks had forgiven them both, in minutes, seconds, milliseconds for everything and anything, that they had done and that he subconsciously knew they continued to do. Self-preservation and senses of being wronged alien to his fixated brain. Two beautiful loving men and only a bright future ahead, that's what he continued to tell himself. Foolishly.

In a brightly lit hospital bedroom, Hawks was waiting. Endeavor promised to see him again in a week, so he waited. So long as he waited he would get all of the answers he needed, he would finally see Dabi and make things okay.

For now he could only twiddle his thumbs, the predator to remain patient and antsy.

When Endeavor stepped through the sliding door, Hawks rose with some excitement. He was happy to see him, he cared so much for him, but he needed to know.

"Enji-san, good morning." He lifted a hand that had regained some of its strength and showed him his joy. "How is everything? How's therapy?"

"Fine," he responded, not shortly, but with reservation as he was wont to do. "How is your back and your wings?"

"Oh yeah, I got some feeling back in them earlier this week, but I can't move them or I could make it worse, so don't get me all riled up, okay?" he finished it with a wink and received a clearly uncomfortable smile.

Hawks felt something sink, maybe it was his heart.

"I know it'll be tough," Endeavor was pushing again, pushing himself to say what he needed to say, but to say it carefully. "But will you stop… with jokes like that, for the time being?"

"...jokes like what?" Hawks was genuinely confused, his thick brows knitting.

"...sexual jokes."

"Oh," it was weak, coming from someone who had difficulty with the absence of bodily pleasures. He had no idea one of his greatest trials was about to be laid out before him and his fingers squeezed into the sheets when Endeavor continued.

"I'm having a difficult time with… thinking about… that… with you… or about you… in that way… because of… everything…" his voice was getting slower, the words fighting their way out against a wall trying to build itself up again.

"And if we could," Endeavor would realize he was a man who found strength in pauses. "Avoid talking about things like that or trying for things like that, for a while, I would… appreciate it."

Hawks center was vibrating with the frustrations of a spoiled child denied his favorite toy, a toy he hadn't realized he'd been smashing into the cement. But as he watched those teal eyes, engorged with some kind of desperation, Hawks realized it was time for him to take a first step.

"Okay."

"Thank you."

So he pushed for the next thing, gently setting this aside in exchange for the other.

"...about…"

"As soon as you can travel, we can contact them and see him."

"Really?"

"Yes."

It was a tall building he'd seen before, with thick cement walls, cradling monsters and creatures and one of his greatest treasures. Hawks kept his back slightly forward, not to apply pressure to his casts, but to remain in a secure position. He didn't have the words, so he stayed quiet, his mind swimming with questions for Dabi, answers, his side of what happened that night and where they stood.

Inside, it was cold, but not cold enough to stop him. He was accustomed to heat, to being assaulted on all sides by flames and to revel in the pain. When they approached the interrogation room, Hawks trotted to the one-way glass, pressing his palms to it and his nose.

He was skinny, skinnier than he remembered, with bits of red peeking out from the back of his bent head. He wondered if his neck hurt, from the painful angle it hung in, from the slump.

"Keigo,"

Hawks wings perked beneath their casts and he winced. The movement caused two red eyebrows to scrunch in concern and Hawks placed his grin on his face in response, his perfectly crafted illusion straining beneath Endeavor's educated frown.

There was no lying, even if he tried.

"Keigo, before you go in, promise me-" Hawks' watched his expression twist, another battle, another backtrack. "Can I ask something of you?"

"Sure," Hawks' forced grin became genuine. He's doing so good.

"After you see him… will you…" Endeavor pulled at each of his fingers slowly as though he were trying to drag the tension in his body out from the tips. "Will you consider… attending counseling?"

Hawks' brows raised, every bit of his features opening up in realization of some painful, unnamed wriggling thing beneath the surface of his skin. The thing he'd ignored for so long, Endeavor saw it clearly and Hawks wondered, did Dabi see it too?

No, there was no lying. Not anymore. Not even to himself.

"Okay," Hawks dropped his gaze only to have the rough curve of a finger tipping his chin up.

"Thank you."

And once again when a hand was on the door, Hawks wasn't sure what he was going to say. He had a million things, a million things to ask and confess, but when their eyes met would he be able to say any of them? He didn't remember. He couldn't remember, but none of that mattered, none of that mattered because he-

Dabi was quiet and Touya's eyes lit up. Before he'd even stepped inside he'd felt his presence like a ray from the sun or the tender caress of a warm wave, when the angel appeared in front of him all he could do was stare with wild eyes.

He's here, he's actually here, after everything, after all he'd said and done, Hawks was here in front of him. Then there was that blinding smile, broad, shiny, happy, and Dabi murmured to himself, I could die right now, I could die right now and I would be happy.

"Hey," it was soft, warm, like a sip of tea.

"Hey," he said it back, colder than fresh tea, but of the same scent and flavor.

What was he going to say? What could Dabi say in response, he wasn't sure either but his expression must have looked so alien to the men standing outside. Neither had gotten such a reaction, so much relaxation out of him than the mere presence of Hawks had garnered. So they waited, just as the two men sitting in the interrogation room waited.

"You look like shit, zombie boy."

It warmed him, it warmed Dabi, he felt alive again.

"Speak for yourself, chicken wings."

That chuckle, those lips and their curves, the slight tilt of his head as he seized him up.

"They been treating you well?"

"Like shit, but I'm still here."

"Oh yeah, tell me who bugged you, I'll beat em up."

"Right, hero beating up a cop. New story for the newspapers."

"What can I say, I'm a bit of an attention whore."

"No shit."

They chuckled together this time and Hawks' palms found their way on top of the table, sliding forward a bit, wanting to reach for him, touch him, feel his cool skin against his again. He wanted to pretend everything was fine, that nothing was wrong, they were going to work together to reach their ideal, the happiness and too much time Hawks always wanted, but Dabi's face changed.

So short-lived, so pathetic, his gaze dropped to the table and his chin dipped. Something else was rushing to the surface, maybe it was Touya. Maybe it was another monster, maybe it was a human being.

"How can you keep smiling at me like that?"

Hawks hadn't expected it. With his parted lips and his raised brows, with a single nail click into the metal table, he didn't know he would be asked such a question.

"W-What do you mean?"

"After everything, I've done..." Dabi's voice was weak. There was nothing else here but the two of them and it did not matter that others could hear. "...to you, how can you keep smiling at me like that?"

"Because-" I can't remember anything after that night.

But that's not what he needed to hear or wanted to hear. Hawks could tell, by the lack of eye contact. Dabi was hanging by a thread, a golden thread, from his own hair, dangling precariously over a rooftop and clinging so tight. Dabi dipped, backward, his head submerging. To how he'd spent his own days after that night.

Draped across a couch lined in tears and unknown stains, Dabi's eyes were fixed to the ceiling above. Dark, looming, but blurry. If he allowed it, sleep could take him. It wasn't appropriate for a meeting with the League, the group he'd distanced himself from in the name of "recruiting," but what was really his endless forays into dark alleys, until he'd return to his apartment when the sun broke the blue, and he'd collapse in the middle of his apartment facefirst. Cheek to cold hardwood, he'd pass out. The drops were always sharp. Sharper than impaling himself on shattered glass. And cold. Colder than submerging himself in a bath he'd forgotten he'd drawn.

Those processes were long and perhaps out of unrealized self-preservation or the luck of having long limbs, he'd never filled them high enough that he couldn't catch his breath with a single reflexive lurch. What was supposed to clean him, baptize him, make him new, stung his eyes and shriveled his damaged skin against the hoops and staples barely holding him together. Palms to cheap porcelain, every move shakey, he rose, carrying nothing with him and leaving nothing behind.

Every night was the same, curled up on a shag bath rug, letting himself air dry. No energy to reach the towel within his grasp. And he was gone, for how long he did not know and where he went he couldn't say once he returned, lifting his head the haze cleared just so.

Somehow he was in bed, somehow covered in a thin white sheet, drifting again. Nowhere.

Where had the sun gone?

Sometimes that broke through.

Would he see it again?

Sometimes that made him laugh.

And then it was morning.

And then he was texting and calling, screaming into a receiver as someone silently remained on the other end, listening, but not there, listening but somewhere else. How dare Dabi think he could strong-arm him back to his side.

And in the middle of it all he thought to himself, I am my father.

So he surrendered to the fury and whittled himself to silence, quiet sobs only breaking through. A worthlessly whimpered, baby bird.

"I'll come see you soon."

"When?"

Dabi felt more pathetic than he ever had, ever. How dare this angel reduce him to begging, to clawing for scraps.

"Soon."

Click.

He'd considered more roof edges and half-empty bottles, partially used faux prescriptions. Never too far, never far enough that, because somehow the soon was enough to make him want to keep breathing in the hopes that things were going to improve.

Then there was silence, a long silence, one that nearly broke him and he'd resolved, after the next mission for the league, he'd finish it.

Maybe Hawks could see it again, he somehow always seemed to be able to see through Dabi. He slid his fingers forward more and caught Dabi's look, his attention, had him switching to look at those fingernails creeping closer rather than the abyss beneath his chained legs.

Dabi stayed close, but not too close. This was that recruits big moment. Simple: crash a plane into a building, cause death, destruction, and shake them all. Make them weep. Fucking hero-loving- Fucking heros- Fucking-

Dabi felt his burner phone vibrate in his pocket and he slipped it out. Five words, a sender he couldn't ignore and something about it made his stomach turn, twist. It was too familiar. The simplicity of it. The finality of the period at the end.

And there it was, bright like the sun and just as hot.

Icarus falling through the clouds with snapped and twisted wings, an expression so serene and soaked in blood, so much fucking blood.

Dabi had never sprinted so hard in his life, flames exploding from his open palms to thwart the fucking heros, because this was his angel to catch. And just before he was there, the recruit came after ready to deal the final blow.

No, this was his angel to catch, his angel to save.

He didn't hear the scream through the sound of his own blood rushing through his body, his speedy footfalls across the pavement, and the thud of weight into his outstretched arms. He nearly fell, but adrenaline kept him on his feet, panting hard and gazing down at the most precious creature to have ever been born on earth.

"Keigo,"

Soft lips were moving, in repetition of those five words. Dabi's eyes went wide, pupils constricting tight and the world fell away. He was the fool. A lucky lucky fool, who crumpled to his knees, laying Hawks down, raising his arms, and starting to pray.

"No,"

He heard Endeavor's voice through the torrent of his internal pleas, but again that did not matter. Nothing else mattered. He didn't matter. Not when the creature he needed to live was dying in front of him.

"Hehe, you remember… how funny it was when I knocked over the wasabi peas?"

Dabi's eyes flicked up to his, drawn by his perfect voice and breathtaking smile, his endless patience with a creature too beaten and worthless for this world that had cast him aside. Of course he remembered, but he was silent. What could he mean?

"I guess it was when I knocked em all over is when I realized I really love wasabi peas."

And for the first time in ages, he smiled, wanted to laugh, wanted to throw himself across the table and be in his angel's arms, but he could only chuckle.

"You're a moron-sexual,"

Hawks laughed,

"Where'd you come up with that one?"

And Dabi blinked. He didn't remember, how could he remember with the way he was smiling and the way he was laughing, with the way he was so nonchalant. He didn't remember the afterward. The back and forth, the baiting, the struggling. The begging, the weeping, the threats, the afterward. Hawks didn't remember how Dabi had clawed at him and dug into him, screaming for him to come back to him and how he'd walked away. Completely and wholly, walked away from him. Did he forget or did he change his mind?

"...when did... when did you-"

"Hmm?"

"When did you decide... you were... okay with- with-"

He couldn't remember and yet here he was, drawn back in like fucking fate.

"From the beginning you numbfuck. I told you didn't I, you're stuck with me."

Was it a blessing or a curse, he didn't know. He would never know, but if he was granted this much, given this much, he would savor it, savor it, let it wash over the length of his tongue and hold it tight, but then his angel was being called out, leaving. He smiled one last time, taking his glance and cradling it to his chest, but the image that replaced it was going to ruin it. Was going to shatter it, the moment he opened his fucking mouth. It was going to be over.

Hawks avoided looking at Endeavor as he exited and sat in the adjacent room. And maybe that was what had begun the next storm. Maybe a lack of a glance, a glance given to someone else and not to him was what caused it. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe it was also fate.

Hawks watched as Endeavor settled into the metal chair, his eyes wide and waiting, but he saw the expression on Dabi's face. He saw his brows lowering and his lips curving downward in a grimace, disgust. There was no happiness here in front of a monster, his eyes said, there was a predator before him ready to carve open his insides and reduce him to nothing.

Hawks heart beat faster when Endeavor spoke and something felt intensely wrong, disgustingly wrong as he began,

"We've given you what you wanted, are you going to cooperate?"

W-Wait, Enji-san, why are you speaking to him like that?

"Oh, did you want something from me, Endeavor?"

"We said you could see him if you promise to provide us information about the League of Villains, we're asking that you hold up your end of the bargain."

"Oh, oh, that's what that was for, that's what I promised, of course of course, you see, we found out we're all a fan of mario kart, so we got a game system and we've been holding regular tournaments."

"Touya,"

"Fuck off, old man."

"You're looking at making a permanent home in Tartarus, if you give us something we can work together and lighten your sentence."

"Oh, but I like my new home, it's better than yours. They may bark orders like you do, but they sure don't swing on me for looking at them wrong."

Hawks was cold, colder than he'd ever been, his fingers flinching but his palms limp in his lap.

"...Touya. I want to help you."

"Help yourself by jumping in a fucking river, strap some anvil's to your ankles and make sure you don't accidentally come up."

There was a long silence, deep, heavy, thick, someone was layering concrete atop their fixed stares and Hawks was still. Though he wasn't sure he could see. It was getting difficult to see or was it getting clearer?

"Help me help you Touya."

"Jesus fuck always with the help help help, what the fuck can you do to help me, huh? Reduce my sentence, let me be here for slightly less time? Fuck off."

"We're discussing rehabilitation."

Touya was silent again and Hawks suddenly was scared he'd stopped breathing. His own pulse raced holding his breath, afraid he would take the rest of the air out of the room.

"Rehab? For little ol me? Oh you shouldn't have."

"Don't you want to see him again?"

Dabi's gaze darkened, he leaned forward.

"Don't fucking talk about him, don't you fucking use him against me,"

Hawks managed to suck in a breath, his fingers slowly curling into his palm, the nails digging in, leaving red marks and pinching sensations up through his arm.

Endeavor paused for a while and Dabi seemed to notice something in his expression because his eyes grew wider, the manic look, the one Hawks feared.

"Oh," he chuckled and sat back. "So then I guess we were both using him."

Hawks was sure his limbs were ice. With nothing in front of him but a wall.

"Touya, there are enough murders that can be traced back to your name that if you do not help us, there's no chance of-"

He stopped when Dabi rolled his eyes.

"Do you know how often he asks about you?"

"Shut up."

"Every time I've seen him he asks about you."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Would you rather rot here in prison than see him again?"

"I said, shut the fuck up."

"You can only get out if you let me help you."

"Fuck you."

"Try to think about him, don't be selfish."

"Selfish. Selfish? I'm being selfish? Says the man who forced his marriage and raped his wife repeatedly. Sure. I'm the selfish one."

Hawks felt the bile rising in his throat again, much like the last time, but he didn't remember. The ice enveloped the tips of his fingers and toes, he would not come out of this with all his limbs he was sure. Yet no tears fell, he stared at the wall in front of him barely processing, barely, but still processing.

Then he heard the edge, the anger, the shift in Endeavor's tone that was rare, but it made Hawks' wings clench beneath their casts. There was pain, but it was nothing in front of the words still ricocheting through his eardrums.

"Enough."

"I'm gonna take a hard guess, did you rape him too?"

Hawks nearly broke then. Endeavor clenched the edge of the table tight enough to bend it.

"Oh shit, well it looks like there's another thing we have in common, I guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."

"Touya enough."

"Did he just moan and take it like he did with me? I bet he did," Dabi's voice was screeching again.

Endeavor stood his face bursting with flames.

"He fucking did!" Dabi's face was soaked with tears.

It was strange how everything that seemed to come back together was really just a pile of sand desperately scooped and dumped with palms only to spread back outwards. Hawks was trembling, his knuckles white, his teeth so deep in his lip he started drawing blood.

He heard the detective beside him murmur, "This is getting out of hand."

And Endeavor's face was soaked with tears too, tiny bits of steam rushing up from where his tears sunk into the flames, mixing, becoming nothing.

"C'mon then, old man. Let's reminisce. Take a swing, take a fucking swing! Show him how I was your fucking punching bag growing up."

"Endeavor-san, I think that's enough, this is going nowhere," the detective interjected over the intercom.

Hawks' head bent. Perhaps he was hoping that he could disappear in that moment, everything was dirty, everything was wrong, his skin was caked in filth and he needed to bathe, scratch, destroy his surface and replace it with something new, something different. But he merely sat there, staring at the ground, barely breathing, but breathing.