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Hawks sits on the rotten little couch the league has in their run-down bar, sitting sideways to avoid leaning against his wings lest they go numb. He rests his elbow on the back cushion and props his cheek up on his palm. He acts like one of them so easily, that it’s hard to realize the truth. The truth being that Hawks was a double agent spying on them.
Or at least, that was Dabi’s hunch. He can’t exactly prove anything yet since Hawks has been conforming to their plans perfectly. There’s no reason to think this, but Dabi is an anxious person—whether he’d like to admit it or not—plus, he’s done his research on the hero’s character, and he seems to look up to Endeavor in some weird, twisted way.
It doesn’t matter if he’s truly on their side or not. Dabi will figure it out by the end of the night. He clutches the vial in his pocket tightly and walks over to Kurogiri. “Giri, two drinks of whatever,” he requests. He glances at Dabi in acknowledgement and begins to pour the drinks, sliding them over to Dabi, who catches them smoothly. He faces away from Hawks, who is now distracted by Toga annoying him with her insane ramblings and takes out the vial. He pops off the top, pours the liquid into one of the drinks and then closes it, throwing it into the trash behind the bar.
Spinner gives him a look, but Dabi just ignores him. He makes his way over to Hawks and Toga. “This is Mr. Slashy, and over here and Cut-cut!” she exclaims, showing off her collection of knives and daggers to Hawks, who smiles and nods like he’s interested. Dabi places Hawks’ drink on the table. “Leave him alone, you creature,” Dabi snaps at Toga with no real bite, and she whips around with two knives in her grip and a wide grin. “I’m gonna show him Miss Knife next, though!” she whines. “Miss Knife?” Dabi raises a brow. “Let me guess, a knife?” Hawks speaks up from the couch.
Toga shakes her head and pulls a fork out of her shirt (an odd place, but Dabi stopped judging her long ago). “This is Miss Knife! She’s a fork,” she explains, and Dabi nearly cackles at the bewildered look on Hawks’ face. He taps Toga’s shoulder to grab her attention again. “Go show Shiggy Miss Knife, I’m sure he’ll love her,” he suggests. Toga nods and laughs under her breath as she walks over to the bar stools where Spinner and Shigaraki are discussing League of Legends strategies. Dabi looks back at Hawks, and the hero’s wing twitches out from the couch. “Not very comfortable, hm?” he comments, taking a seat on the other end of the couch and taking a sip of his drink.
Hawks shakes his head tiredly. “I’ll live,” he reassures Dabi, golden eyes raking over his scars. Dabi has noticed that Hawks like his staples and piercings, so he flaunts them in the lighting whenever he can. “Have you had anything to drink?” he asks. Hawks blinks at him, then glances at the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch Dabi had put down earlier. It wouldn’t be the first time the league has given Hawks a drink, but the hero is always nervous to take. “I don’t drink,” he tries to say, but Dabi already knew he’d say that, so he quickly interrupts him. “It’s non-alcoholic, but whatever,” he sighs, looking back out to the rest of the bar and taking another sip.
Hawks sighs and leans forward, reaching for the glass. Dabi watches him in his peripheral vision. Just one sip. Just one sip and in half an hour you’ll be spilling the truth to me, he thinks, the anticipation is killing him, but he forces himself to stay calm as slowly, Hawks raises the glass. “It smells weird, what is it?” he asks. Dabi is in the middle of another sip, swallowing and glancing at Hawks. “Dunno. Just told Kurogiri to give us whatever. He’s probably trying out one of his mixes again; mine smells weird too,” he says casually. “If you like it, though, give that feedback to Kurogiri. He likes feedback on his mixes,” Dabi comments.
Hawks glances between him and the drink once, and finally raises the glass to his lips and takes a nice long swig. He pulls away the glass and stares at it with furrowed brows, licking his lips. “Tastes… odd,” Hawks murmurs. Dabi has to hold back a winning smile and lets himself sink into the couch once again. “Well, don’t tell Kurogiri that then. Might make him sad,” he says, taking another sip. His glass is almost empty, but he made sure it was alcoholic so he could stay sober for Hawks. He’ll get to the bottom of this, find out Hawks’ true intentions, and if Hawks is lying he’ll kill him right there.
His heart clenches painfully. Please don’t be lying, Dabi begs silently.
Half an hour later, Hawks isn’t looking too good. “Are you okay?” Dabi asks him. Hawks forces a smile on his face, but it looks ridiculous with how pale he’s going. “Yep, I’m fine. But I think I… should go,” his voice dies down to a whisper and his smile falls. Dabi can see right here that Hawks’ façade is breaking down, and it’s enamouring. “You’re obviously not fine,” Dabi scoffs, holding back his jittery feeling. He stands up and grabs Hawks’ arm before the hero can argue, not that he can speak right now, and drags him out of the bar. The rest of the villains don’t even notice when the two slip out.
Dabi brings him across the road, calls for Kurogiri’s portal and has them warped into the old warehouse by the dock. Hawks is shaking at this point, which is odd, but Dabi could hardly care. If he can’t fight back, it just makes this interrogation easier. “Dabi, what’s–”
“Quiet,” he snaps. Hawks’ jaw snaps shut. He really doesn’t look well, like he could pass out at any moment. What did that guy give him? It was meant to be a truth serum but what if it was just plain poison? Fuck, no. Dabi still has to try. Hawks’ heart is racing, Dabi can feel it when he puts a heated hand on his chest, over that stupid HPSC logo. “What did you do to me?” Hawks asks, eyes brimming with uncharacteristic tears. Dabi hesitates, staring at Hawks who looks like he is on the verge of a breakdown. Finally, a tear falls and Hawks’ eyes don’t look focused on the villain in front of him anymore, but far off, wide and horrified. “Stop… stop it,” he gasps, the tears falling.
“Shit,” Dabi curses, frozen. He doesn’t know what to do, he isn’t cut out for this. He was supposed to interrogate the hero and have all of his secrets start spilling out— not this . Hawks’ knees give out beneath him and Dabi is catching him, lowering the man to the ground as his body is racked with sobs. “Hawks?” Dabi asks, holding onto Hawks’ shoulders to keep him up, but his head lolls forward like a ragdoll. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers under his breath, voice broken up by distraught sobs. He keeps saying things that don’t make sense, begging someone who isn’t there for their forgiveness, begging for them to stop, saying he’s sorry and that he’ll be good. “What…” Dabi mutters under his breath, unable to do anything but stare and try to keep Hawks from going limp on the ground.
“I don’t…” Hawks gasps, whining loudly as more sobs break out. Tears fall onto their laps, wetting them. “I don’t know why I’m cry–crying,” he yells in sudden frustration, pulling away from Dabi and slapping his hands away. He grips his head and the heels of his palms dig into his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the waterfall of tears cascading down his cheeks, his gloved fingers digging into his face hard enough to leave red marks. Dabi knows if the leather of the gloves weren’t stopping Hawks, he would have clawed gashes on his forehead. He lets out an emotional scream that echoes throughout the warehouse, and Dabi has to contain himself lest the strong emotions overwhelm him anymore and he starts crying too.
That truth serum. It doesn’t make people say the truth. Dabi realizes in horror. It makes people feel their true emotions. Is this what Hawks had been hiding from the world? From himself? How long has this been going on? What sort of life could have possibly done this to him? Hawks is out of reality, he’s going fucking insane on the dirty floor of this abandoned warehouse and Dabi is sitting on his haunches in shock. Hawks’ emotions keep jumping from the deepest sadness to an enraged animal, and occasionally he’ll resurface in confusion and fear, wondering what the hell is wrong with him and why he’s acting like this.
His nose is bleeding, blood mixing with tears and dripping onto his hero costume. When he tries to wipe it away it smears across his face with all the tears and snot and spit and dirt, and he shakes in horror, switching to the sleeve of his aviator jacket and using it until a sickly crimson patch has soaked into the once khaki fabric.
Dabi can’t let this go on. Guilt overcomes him and he feels like a helpless little kid who messed with the wrong things. The consequence is this. He lunges across the ground, removing Hawks’ hands from his face and examining the damage. His eyes are red and puffy, cheeks flushed and blood smears under his nose, staining down his lips and tears on his cheeks. He’s still crying, but his golden eyes are foggy and crazed. “Fuck, Hawks stop. You need to calm down,” Dabi says, but Hawks isn’t listening, trying and failing to wrestle himself out of Dabi’s grip.
Dabi knows it’s better to console a person instead of telling them to stop. Letting the emotions flow out and dissipate is healthier than keeping them bottled up; it’s clear Hawks has been bottling them in his whole life. He won’t tell Hawks to stop crying, he can’t, so instead he pulls Hawks into a hug on the messy concrete floor no matter how sudden it is. They aren’t friends, but Hawks needs this. He feels Hawks go limp in his arms, face buried in his shoulder. They’re kneeling on the ground. Hawks stops fighting Dabi and just sobs in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking.
Dabi hesitantly begins to rub his hand across Hawks’ lower back, and over the space between his wings to try and console him. Hawks’ wings are limp, draped like a red carpet across the floor and twitching with every sob. He tries to mimic the way he remembers his mother comforting him when he was younger, holding him close and humming softly. Dabi doesn’t hum with his damaged voice, but he slowly begins whispering reassurances in Hawks’ ear. “You’re okay, you’re okay. You’re safe, I’m here.” And so on. It probably means nothing to Hawks, but it certainly works while he’s in their highly emotional, mentally fragile state.
Dabi doesn’t know how long it is before Hawks goes completely silent, still limp in his arms. He won’t pull away until Hawks does, though. He needs time to process everything, and Dabi does too. No doubt Hawks’ throat is raw from crying, and he’ll probably need water once he’s done.
“Dabi..?” The hero finally speaks after what feels like forever in silence in the dark warehouse, but he sounds confused and his voice is gritty and exhausted. “Yeah, I’m here,” he whispers back, watching how his wings slowly fold back up. He moves his hand down Hawks’ back so he isn’t obstructing his wings. The feathers brush over his hand softly. “What… the hell was that?” he asks quietly, slowly removing himself from the villain’s embrace with an equally tired and betrayed expression. His face is still blood and tearstained, it needs a wash but Hawks could care less about that right now. Dabi feels his chest go tight with guilt. “I drugged you with a truth serum, but…” he pauses, taking in Hawks’ expression. It barely changes, but he notices the way his eyebrow quirks in frustration. “The guy who sold it told me it would make you tell me the truth, but bring out your emotions. I’m sorry,” he apologizes.
Hawks stares at him for a moment, seemingly too tired to be completely angry right now. Dabi knows he’ll get an ear-full later, maybe Hawks will decide the league isn’t for him and leave, hand them into the police and be done. He really fucked up now. “Why did you do that? Did you think I was…” he trails off, tone offended. Dabi looks away guiltily. “I was anxious, that’s all. I’m sorry, I really am,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know it would do that.”
“You shouldn’t just go around drugging people,” Hawks snaps, his voice monotone. “But you’re a villain, who the fuck cares…” he says sarcastically. They both look defeated and exhausted, Hawks more so.
“You should wash your face,” Dabi comments before the silence can get too loud. Hawks scoffs. “Yeah,” he says, slowly forcing his body to get up. He’s a little wobbly, but he can walk. Dabi gets up after him, pulling out his phone to text Kurogiri. “I called a warp gate to your apartment,” he tells Hawks. The hero nods subtly and then the portal opens up in front of him. He hesitates and looks at Dabi one last time. “Not a word about this. Please,” he says. “Not a word,” Dabi agrees. He watches as Hawks steps through the portal. He nearly runs in after him because, fuck, he never realized how much the hero was hurting. He wasn’t just a privileged hero, he was just as broken and twisted as Dabi himself. He wants to talk to Hawks again, he wants to know why he’s like that.
The portal closes, and Dabi is left in the darkness of the abandoned warehouse. What was meant to be an interrogation to close up his concerns just left him with more questions, and a mystery surrounding a hero he used to hate. I want to know who you are.