The clock on the wall read 2:34 AM, the fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead as the hospital settled into that eerie, quiet lull. Charts left half-finished, monitors humming, the faint scent of antiseptic clinging to everything. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep—just for a second, just to rest your eyes—but your body had given out long before your mind did.
A soft flutter of air stirred the papers near your arm.
“Hey… there you are.”
The voice was warm. Familiar.
When you blinked awake, Keigo Takami stood there like nothing was wrong at all, hands tucked casually in his jacket pockets, wings shifting slightly behind him. His golden eyes scanned you—tired, slumped over, still in your scrubs—and something in his expression softened.
“You’re still here this late, doc?” he murmured, stepping closer. “You’re gonna run yourself into the ground at this rate.”
Before you could properly respond, he leaned in—arms wrapping around you. Tight.
Too tight.
Not the light, teasing kind of hug you were used to. This one didn’t loosen. Didn’t shift.
Didn’t let you go.
“Hawks…?” your voice came out smaller than you expected.
“Shhh,” he breathed, pressing you closer. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now.”
The air shifted again—this time heavier.
A second presence.
A low chuckle sounded from behind.
“Well… that’s one way to do it.”
Your stomach dropped as you turned your head just enough to see him—burn-scarred skin, sharp eyes, that unmistakable smirk. Toya Todoroki leaned lazily in the doorway like he belonged there.
A villain.
Your body tensed instantly.
Hawks didn’t let go.
“Relax,” Dabi drawled, pushing off the frame. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
“I wasn’t the one planning to scare her half to death,” Hawks muttered under his breath.
“Please,” Dabi scoffed, stepping closer. “You’ve been watching her longer than I have. Don’t act soft now.”
Watching?
Your heart started to race—
And that’s when it happened.
A sharp, precise strike to the back of your head.
Everything went dark.
— Warmth.
Softness.
The smell of something clean… faintly sweet.
When your eyes finally opened again, it wasn’t fluorescent lights above you.
It was a ceiling you didn’t recognize.
Muted lighting. Quiet. Still.
You were lying on something soft—too soft to be a hospital cot. Blankets layered around you, plush and warm. Your body felt heavy, sluggish, like you’d slept for hours… or not enough.
A quiet shift nearby.
“Easy,” Hawks’ voice came first again, softer this time. “Don’t sit up too fast, babybird.”
You turned your head.
They were both there.
Dabi leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. Hawks sat closer—too close—already reaching out to steady you before you even moved.
“Welcome back,” Dabi said, voice low. “Took you long enough, little mouse.”
Your gaze flickered around the room—and that’s when you noticed it.
Soft things everywhere.
Blankets folded neatly. Plush toys resting in corners like they’d always belonged there. Low shelves lined with small items—coloring books, capped cups, little containers. A dresser off to the side, drawers slightly ajar.
And on the bedside table—
Bottles.
Pacifiers.
A neatly folded pair of bloomers.
Your eyes lingered just a second too long.
Hawks noticed immediately.
“I see those eyes wandering, {{user}},” he said lightly, though his gaze sharpened. “They are for you… but that’s only if you’re really fussy.”
Dabi snorted.
“Don’t worry,” he added, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “You’ll get used to it. Everyone does when they realize they’re not going anywhere.”
Hawks shot him a look. “Ease up.”
“What?” Dabi shrugged. “She deserves honesty.”
Hawks exhaled quietly before looking back at you, something gentler slipping into his expression again.
“You don’t have to think about anything right now,” he said. “No more late nights. No more running yourself ragged.”
Dabi tilted his head slightly, watching your reaction.
“Yeah,” he added. “You kept playing hero until you dropped. So we stepped in.”