Chapter Text
Pain.
Pain.
That was all he felt as he lay on the ground, all his muscles aching. He felt battered, and his lungs seemed to be working at half capacity. No bones seemed broken, which was lucky, and he didn’t think there was anything worse than a bruise.
“Hawks.”
The sharp voice drew him out of his contemplation of his injuries.
“Yessir.” Hawks quickly got to his feet, falling back into the familiar position standing at attention.
“You’re distracted, focus.” The man gave him a disapproving look, “You’ll never be a hero if you keep this up.”
Hawks felt a stab of hurt run through him. He was going to be a hero, one mistake wasn’t going to change that.
“I’m sorry sir.” His answer seemed to satisfy the handler for now, because he received a nod of approval.
“You’re dismissed for today. I expect you to practice your forms in your room.” The handler spoke as he walked over to the wall, grabbing a leather-looking object that rested on a bench. He brought the item back over to Hawks, and a wave of recognition and fear familiarity rushed through him.
Hawks stayed completely still, not even a feather moving as the smooth fabric was wrapped around his head, completely blocking out the world around him. This was a recent addition to his training, the blindfold. It was to help him improve his awareness with his feathers, and he wore it nearly anytime he wasn’t in combat training. Though, soon, he would begin wearing it during sparring sessions.
And it worked. Hawks could understand the vibrations that came through his feathers much easier after only a few months of work, and it would only be a matter of time until he wore it at almost all times, until he could prove his competency.
“Go back to your room,” The handler spoke again, “As usual, you have ten minutes to make it back, or no dinner.”
“Yessir.”
++
Hawks made it back in time. The path was so familiar by now, and he had much more experience in working with his feathers than whatever the Commission seemed to think.
Hawks sat on his bed, several feathers swirling around him to keep him aware of his surroundings. His head snapped up at the sound of his door opening.
“Hawks, dinner.” A cheerful voice sounded, the familiar voice of his nutritionist. He sent out a couple feather’s to take the tray she held, carefully bringing it back to sit in his lap. The door closed only seconds later, leaving Hawks alone again.
After he ate, he lay on the bed; most feathers detached and clouding the air of the small room. His thoughts were ordering themselves, running through the combat forms from the day, thinking about how he could incorporate his previously learned skills into this new one. There wasn’t much else he could do, and this routine was familiar after all these years.
++
Hawks had managed to drift off, but was startled awake by the door opening once more. Immediately, all his feathers were sharpened and pointing towards whatever intruder this was. Because, it had to be an intruder. His handlers never came in like that, there was always some sort of warning.
“Shit!”
The voice of a man drifted into the room. A breeze wafted through Hawks’ feathers, signaling to the hero that this newcomer had ducked out of the door. His ears caught the man speaking again.
“Jeanist, I’ve found another one.”
Jeanist? Like Best Jeanist? Why was a pro here? And what did that man mean by ‘another one?’
“What do you want?” Hawks cursed the sharp crack in his voice.
“Kid, we’re here to get you out.” The man responded, having moved back to the doorway.
“I don’t need to get out!” Hawks spat back, a curl of anger rising in his chest. Get out? Where the fuck was he supposed to go? The Commission was his home.
“C’mon kid,” The man spoke again, “I’m a pro hero, you can trust me.”
Hawks stiffened. So there were multiple pros here. Was this a raid? They were raiding the Commission? “What’s your name?”
“Eraserhead.” As if to demonstrate, the man activated his quirk.
Hawks yet out an audible yelp as he lost all feeling in his feathers. Now, he was really blind.
“Okay! I believe you!” He said, voice strained, “Just… stop. Please.”
“Alright-”
The feeling came back to his feathers, and he immediately pulled them towards himself, reforming his wings.
“Shit, kid,” Eraserhead spoke again, “The hell did they put on you?”
“It’s to help me get better.” His voice only had a slight tremor.
“I’m gonna take that off, okay?”
Hawks nodded, and he could feel un-shedable tears gathering in his eyes. The blindfold was removed carefully, the other man careful not to catch the buckle on Hawks’ hair.
Hawks blinked quickly, adjusting his eyes to the sudden light, and clearing them of tears to the best of his ability. He looked at the hero in front of him, taking in his appearance. He looked homeless.
“I’m an underground hero.” The man looked amused.
“Oh, shit. Did I say that aloud?” Hawks blurted out, his wings almost puffing up in embarrassment, but he quelled the response as he had been trained. It wouldn’t do for villains to figure out what he was thinking just because his stupid bird habits were on full display.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get you out of here.”
Hawks hesitated as Eraserhead turned to the door, “...Why?”
The hero turned back to him, “Why what?”
“Why am I leaving?”
“Kid, the stuff they’ve been doing here,” Eraserhead gestured around, “Is illegal.”
“But… they saved me.” Hawks could feel the panic creeping up his throat.
“What’s your name?” Eraserhead crouched down in front of him. (When had Hawks gotten on the ground?)
“Hawks.”
“No… Your name. Not your hero alias.”
The panic came up with a vengeance, and Hawks gasped.
“Hawks!” He forced out, “My name is Hawks!” He was breathing heavily, his throat felt tight.
“Alright,” Eraserhead’s voice was calm. “We’re gonna get you out of here, Hawks, and you can tell us your story, okay?”
“I’m not allowed to!” Hawks snapped the words out, his hand immediately covering his mouth.
“Okay kid, we’re gonna unpack that once were out of here.”
Hawks let himself be hauled to his feet, his wings pressed tightly against his back. Eraserhead supported him out of the room, and down the hall to the exit of the facility.