A Wilted Red Rose (Hawks x Reader)

Broken Pieces

'Hawks. In order to save everyone...'

'...you must eliminate her.'

Four words. The simple, incomprehensible words, suddenly radiated through Hawks' mind, ravaging his heart like a battlefield. The Raid, the war on heroes versus villains was imminent. There was no room to process, to think, or to regret.

Reviving people on behalf of the League was one thing, but using your power to revive Nomu, making it so they can come back and regenerate from the dead, making them even more powerful in the process – only to learn that you had the potential to unleash them under your command... Hawks couldn't stand idle anymore.

As his fists trembled, devastation overrode all feeling and emotion. After everything that had happened, after all Hawks had put you through, he again had to desecrate his one, final promise.

To keep you safe.

There was no choice, he battled with himself. You knew this was part of the job. In order to save the rest of society... (y/n)... she has to be stopped.

It has to be me.

Hawks' heart pounded against his temples. Biting his lip, he passed one solemn nod, and accepted it.

(y/n)... babybird...

...I'm sorry.

~~~

The door to the back room of the hideout creaked open, revealing a long-forgotten area that you made into your own quiet space. A nearby wooden table was stained with anti-flammable liquid as you placed your feather daggers and sword onto it and sat quietly. You then unraveled the bloody bandages coating your hands, getting them some air before practicing one of your new favorite pastimes: brushing your feather weapons, renewing their sheen with the liquid, reinforcing and keeping them in pristine condition.

As you rubbed the hardened feathers, your mind began to wander to a short time ago, a hand instinctually traveling to and stroking the matted feather around your neck.

That night... the night I took control of the Nomu. I was able to force my Quirk to work again, and in a much stronger capacity than ever before.

Tired eyes then traveled to your scabbed, open palm in wonder.

When he rushed in to save me, only for him to get hurt. My emotions were running so high then. My mind was screaming at me – I couldn't stand seeing him injured. My Quirk reacted right then. Was that... because of Hawks?

You scoffed at the thought, yet a part of you still insisted that was the case. You then purged the thought from your mind as you tended to your task. The activity was a double-edged sword, as keeping the feather weapons alive filled you with a strange sense of happiness and fulfillment, yet each weapon served as a painful reminder of what you once had. Sometimes you had to set them down and step away for a moment; the bittersweet emotions becoming too overwhelming to bear.

This time, however, you remained firmly in place, clasping a dagger tightly, your body instinctively on edge. You weren't sure why, but the atmosphere in that very moment... it felt like the tension of the hairs on your neck had stiffened.

You had sensed something wrong. The atmosphere of the hideout was always tense, but now, there was this foreboding feeling, as if something was about to go horribly, horribly wrong.

A deep thud of a door closing in the distance pulled you from your thoughts as your head raised slowly at the noise. A deep sigh escaped you as your head hung low at the steady footsteps approaching the only door behind you.