Chapter Text
Hawks visits the League at least twice a week. It’s addicting really, it’s somehow become his favorite place to be (which he should probably find alarming). It’s on one of these visits, two weeks after game night, that the inevitable happens.
Hawks’ phone rings, loud and blaring, in the ringtone especially reserved for one caller. The Commission.
As soon as Hawks hears the sound, he straightens from where he was slouching on the couch and fumbles for his phone (the League hadn’t confiscated it in weeks). Hawks’ whole body straightens, perfect posture, down to the tips of his wings.
“Hawks. Report.” The Commission President orders through the phone. As soon as Hawks hears her voice, everything else is gone. He doesn’t see how everyone stares at the sudden shift in demeanor or how it’s deathly silent.
“Finished patrol one at eight hours. Diet completed, and pills taken. Second patrol due to start at ten. Case one, no progress. Case two, caught perpetrator at seven thirty-four, and delivered into police custody at seven thirty-five. Case three status update required.” Hawks speaks in monotone, no inflection or any inch of his normal exuberance visible. The perfect soldier. Dabi stares at him, startled at how it seemed as though a completely different person had taken over Hawks’ body.
“Update denied, case is being dropped.” Something inscrutable flickers through Hawks’ face at those words. Case three had been a teenage girl who’d been missing for two days, and was last seen with Akimo Suki, a known pedofile.
“But the gir-” Hawks protests.
“Hawks,” the president breaks him off. “Did I give you permission to speak?”
“No, ma’am.” Hawks winces. Hawks fails to notice that the League is staying as quiet as possible in order to eavesdrop and not out of politeness.
“Then why did you?” She growls.
“The girl was taken by a pedofile! How can I let her go?” Dabi pauses, they want Hawks to leave a girl in the hands of a pedofile?
“Hawks!” The president was truly mad now, and Hawks is terrified but absolutely refuses to let it show in his voice or face. “It is not your place to question orders! You have clearly forgotten how you are supposed to act. You’re a soldier, Hawks, not a person. You would do well to remember that.”
“I know, but-” Dabi nearly growls at Hawks’ agreement. He’s a person, or at least as much of a person as the birdie could be.
“No, Hawks.” The woman sighed heavily. “You clearly need readjustments, be here in fifteen minutes.” Hawks shivers, he hates adjustments, they hurt.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Oh and Hawks? You’ll be skipping patrol today.” She hangs up.
Hawks drops. Every inch of his body slumping onto the ground, but he can’t remember standing up. It must have happened at some point during the call though.
Hawks is floating through his mind, staring at nothing in particular while everyone stares.
“Birdie?” Dabi asks hesitantly. “Are you alright?”
Within a flash, Hawks’ blinding smile is back up, though he’s sure it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out. Anyway, I’ve gotta go, the Commission's calling.” Hawks rockets out the door before anyone can object and turns steeply upward.
He just needs to disappear for a moment, and the only way he knows how is flying. So he flies, vertically climbing altitude. Going higher, and higher, and higher, until frost is forming on the tips of his feathers and the top of his hair before he drops. Just tucking in his wings and falling. The wind burns in the best way, and he lets himself fall until he pulls up at the last possible second.
The League stares wide-eyed from the window, and feeling much more in control, Hawks winks at them before turning on his wing and heading to the Commission. Fuck.