A Wilted Red Rose (Hawks x Reader)

Icarus

Rumbling, crashes, the shattering of glass – collective screams and deafening commotion resonated through the area surrounding you. There was no escape. Everywhere you turned revealed destructed buildings receding into the earth, frantic people digging through rubble, and cries for help. Each sensory in your body was strained to its absolute minimum as your mind flooded on what to do next.

A nearby woman's plea and distraught hand wave caught your attention – likely drawn to the official hospital special unit logo on your top. Your legs trembled as you rushed to her aid, knees threatening to buckle under the weight of the situation.

"Please," she said, struggling to lift a concrete slab beside her. Under the rock, an arm stuck out, palm facing up. "It's my husband. Help me get him out, please!"

"R-right...!"

With great effort, you and the woman exerted all your strength in lifting the rubble off the man. Upon shifting it out of the way, a metal rod jutting from the side struck your face, and you felt a sharp, aching pain near your forehead. Blood dripped from your eyebrow and onto the ground.

"Ow..." you muttered, rubbing your eyebrow and unwittingly smearing the blood over part of your face.

"He's hurt!" The woman cradled her husband's motionless body to her chest, staring straight ahead with sunken eyes, and you could hear the weeps welling up in her chest.

Your eyes were locked in a widened state watching the city crumble around you. In the midst of screaming, buildings crumbling, sirens, all the blood and chaos, the utter shock in your face suddenly morphed into that of a serious one, as if a switch were flipped.

"Get him on his back, quick," you instructed the woman, guiding her to release her hold. You knelt on both knees, first bringing two fingers up to his wrist.

No pulse. This is my chance.

Sounds of the woman sobbing into her hands was all you could hear as you brought both bloodied hands to the man's equally bloodied chest. Breaths passed by you agonizingly quick, doing everything in your power to remain calm and focused.

After a moment of no results, then another, and another, your heart skipped even faster. It was next to impossible to maintain your focus. Distant sounds of rage-filled roaring echoed through the remnants of the city, as if something even more malicious were approaching.

After another few moments of straining, a sharp pain shot through your palms, causing you to grunt and shut your eyes at the sensation, only to open them a second later to find that familiar green aura emanating around them once more, catching the sobbing woman's attention and ceasing her cries to look on in wonder.

There was no time for celebration. As your hands made contact with the man, his body was quick to accept the aura. As his eyes snapped open, he began to shout in panic. You had zero training in counseling extremely stressed person; you didn't know what to say or how to comfort him. Before you could react, out-of-city emergency personnel arrived on the scene, crowding around the man and assessing his injuries. By all accounts, he should have been dead, they pondered – but had no time to speculate as they carried him away. As the woman followed, she had a second to look back at you, her face elevated in gratitude before being escorted away.

A small, warm smile graced your face for a moment, ignoring your own blood dripping off your damaged fingers. Another scream drew your attention, and you immediately went headfirst back into the chaos.

Minutes felt like hours as you revived people left and right, ignoring the sheer amount of pain radiating from your hands. It seemed like for every one person who you rescued, another five were taking their last breath. The sight and sound of pure devastation was harrowing. Debris and loose wreckage flew in the air, battering your body until it was difficult to stand back up. Scratches and cuts riddled your body, but they were mere distractions as you focused on your job.