A kiss pressed firmly in a moment of desperation before hands are shoving Hawks back, blues panicked as they looked to the blond. "Go. Get out of here before it's worse." Words shouted over the sounds of fighting--destruction.
It’s not a problem right up until the second it becomes a big problem. It’s not an issue until an explosion rings out, until people are screaming and running --- until a group of villains intent on getting revenge for Overhaul show up and turn the world upside-down. It’s Shigaraki they want but it’s Compress driving, Dabi riding shotgun while Hawks keeps to himself, preferring the air. He sees it all, feels it. Dabi’s flames make quick work of one of the other vehicles and the blast rattles his wings, shakes him up before he’s even landed and in the fray.
The feather-blades are too light in his hands.
When he strikes, he’s unkind.
He ruins a man’s achilles tendon, the quirk he holds doesn’t even manifest. His methods shine, here --- where it’s important to destroy opponents before they have a chance to really make a move. His brain splits as feathers become sharp and explode from his back like knives, their aims true. Weapons are knocked away. Tires are slashed. Windshields shatter. He loses a few that lodge themselves into the meat of shoulders, making arms useless.
He knows there are more of them before the rest.
The feathers warn him of large objects, inbound --- fast.
The second wave of vehicles is in such a rush that they almost blow by them. Almost. A man steps up like he owns the entire street and when he sends a feather, it bounces off of him. The connection severs and Hawks exhales an annoyed hiss.
It’s a power type. And he looks confident.
Things get ugly quickly from there.
It becomes clear that they’ve done a lot of spending; there may only be about two dozen of them but they have a range of toys --- most of them meant to deal a lot of damage to a wide area. The street explodes in gunfire and when one of the grenades launched towards Dabi goes off, it bursts into ice. It’s almost impressive for idiots like these to have some kind of elemental advantage but a quick search tells him that almost all of them are hopped up on adrenaline --- their hearts racing so fast that his feathers almost can’t stay still ---- and it becomes clear that they are willing to level the street if it means taking these pieces away from who they want to harm.
Worse, their power-type’s quirk is being amplified.
Compress’ disappearing act is impressive. Hawks manages to deal with a few more of them, but a lot of his feathers are busy looking for civilians nearby. A feather-blade dents upon muscle-dude’s skin --- the punch he receives, in turn, has him flinging backward. It’s only the collision with Dabi that cushions his fall.
His face stings. Pieces of his goggles fall to mix with the rest of rubble.
Senses screaming, he smells gas.
It becomes a problem, at this point. Up until now --- they’ve kept whatever happens between them behind closed doors separate from the world outside. Up until now --- Hawks has been confident that Dabi isn’t taking it too seriously. Up until now, he’s been sure that he isn’t, either.
And then he sees the look on Dabi’s face.
And then he hears the panic in his voice, lips burning from a kiss.
It’s gone too far.
They’ve fucked up. And they don’t have time to address it.
Feathers zip back to him and his wings fill out nicely before they raise, before he prepares to take off. He can’t look away as blue ignites in Dabi’s hands, as he turns with every intention of unleashing Hell from his core. His mouth moves and then his body follows --- there one moment and in the clouds the next.
“Come back to me whole.”
It can’t be heard over screams.
