Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I...What is that?” Dabi asked. 

Hawks flared his feathers. “That is our son!” 

Dabi eyed the large oblong white object cradled in Hawks’ arms. An egg , he realized. Hawks laid an egg.  

There were about a million thoughts flying through Dabi’s mind. First and foremost was that this was a prank or a trick. There was no way...Hawks couldn’t lay eggs, could he? Dabi supposed it was possible, in this weird, quirk-filled world. Unless this was somehow related to his plan to join the league. Was he gonna have to pay child support? He wasn’t ready to be a dad! What if the kid didn’t like him? What if Dabi ended up like his own father-- 

Wait, no, he needed to focus.

“You laid an egg,” he said. Good, his ability to state factual information was still intact. 

“Yes,” Hawks said, adjusting his arms to hold said egg closer. 

Another thought surfaced. “Are you sure it’s mine?”

Hawks looked affronted. “Hey now, just what are you implying there, crispy?”  

Dabi shrugged. “You seem the type to sleep around.” 

Hawks let out an offended squawk. “You accuse me of-- I would (almost) never!” At Dabi’s impassive expression, Hawks sighed. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s yours.” 

Huh. Well there it was. Dabi was gonna be a father. 

“So...am I supposed to help you...sit on it?” Dabi was really at a loss of what to do. He’d never had pets, much less a baby (egg?). 

“‘Course not, do you wanna break it?!” Hawks exclaimed. 

Kinda , Dabi thought internally. What? He was a destructive guy! This is why he shouldn’t be a father. This was gonna be bad. 

“I just gotta keep it warm and humid and turn it and stuff. I’ve got my nest all set up and everything,” Hawks explained. 

Humid? Turning? Yeah, no Dabi was not qualified to incubate an egg. He could do warm! He was qualified to provide heat. Maybe...overqualified...He briefly entertained the idea of hardboiling the little sucker and-- OH NO he was like his father! Dabi took a breath. If he didn’t want to be like his father, he could just dip now and not have anything to do with the omelet. That way, if the kid had daddy issues, he would cause them passively . 

“Sounds like you’ve got it sorted, then. I’ll let the League know you’ll be out of commission for--”

Hawks cleared his throat. “Uh-uh, it’s your job to bring me food. And protect the egg from predators.”
“I’m predator,” Dabi deadpanned. 

“It may be in an egg, but this,” Hawks held the egg out. “Is an actual human fetus!”

“And?” Dabi narrowed his eyes. “You think I wouldn’t eat a human fetus given the opportunity?” He probably wouldn’t. Probably. But he’d plant the doubt in Hawks’ mind. He’d convince him he’d kill the egg if he was left alone with it and get Hawks to never talk to him again. Or at least leave him alone about the egg. Dabi was still down for booty calls; Hawks was --no pun intended-- a nice lay.

“I guess I wouldn’t put it past you for human fetuses in general, you’re kind of messed up, no offense. But I can say with certainty you’re not gonna hurt our baby,” Hawks said. 

Yeesh, Dabi thought. The guy really wasn’t letting this go. Hawks was lucky Dabi was in a good mood today, otherwise he would have just solved this his usual way: incineration. 

Dabi crossed his arms, careful not to let his staples catch on his sleeve. “You said I need to bring you food? How about this: I order you DoorDash every other day.” 

Hawks considered it. Then he nodded. Yahtzee! Dabi thought. Then Hawks opened his mouth. “And you can watch the egg while I get food on the off days.” 

Not yahtzee. 

Dabi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, why don’t we just make Omelet here into an omelet and forget this happened.” 

“Haha, die trying.” Hawks said, a threatening undercurrent to his voice. A couple of red feathers nudged Dabi towards the door. “I’m craving fried chicken tonight. I don’t care what kind. Oh, and if you’d be so kind as to tell the League we’re on parental leave, I’ll make it worth your while!” The feathers smacked flirtily against his derriere and the door to Hawk’s apartment slammed behind him. 

Dabi slouched against the bar, nursing a drink courtesy of Kurogiri. He’d asked for the strongest drink available, but after he’d tried (and failed) to kick back some stupid american drink that was probably 100 proof, Kurogiri wordlessly handed him a whiskey instead. Whiskey had a good sort of burn that Dabi needed right now. He liked whiskey; it was earthy and strong enough that he looked menacing drinking it but he didn’t have to constantly fight back the urge to cough. Dabi snorted. Hawks probably liked fruity girly drinks with more sugar than a soda. Probably liked getting men twice his age to pay for them. Probably wouldn’t be caught dead in public with Dabi-- not that he cared. Honestly, he wouldn’t be caught dead with Hawks in public. He was bratty and would definitely ruin Dabi’s image. Well...maybe it could work if Hawks was hanging off his arm, wearing something sexy while Dabi remained cool and aloof-- Dabi finished off his drink in one go, glad his eyes couldn’t water. He stifled a cough with a groan and let his head drop into his hands. 

Nearby, apparently having no sense of self-preservation, Mr. Compress cleared his throat. “Something on your mind?”

“Yeah, murder,” Dabi said lowly, threateningly. 

“Saaaaaame,” Toga sighed dreamily. 

“Anyone in particular?” Compress pressed. 

Dabi glared at him from between his fingers.“You, if you don’t shut up.” 

Compress tsked. “Touchy, touchy.”

“Yeah, touchy, touchy.” Toga, braver (or stupider) leaned over to poke Dabi in the back to punctuate her words. “Did you get dumped?”

Dabi ignored her. 

“He’s not saying nooo~! Aww, it’s okay Dabi-kun! I think we’ve all been there. I always just killed people who broke up with me, but it’s sad when you really liked them. I didn’t even know you were dating--”

“I’m not,” Dabi snapped, forgetting his decision to ignore her. 

Toga was unphased. “You know what they say! Plenty of fish in the sea! It’s kind of hard to imagine someone would go for someone as unpleasant and ugly as you, but I’m sure there’s gotta be at least one more out there…”
Dabi let her babbling fade to background noise (easier to ignore that way). She was getting dangerously close to the actual problem. Not that he was dating Hawks, but they’d been friends (enemies? Associates?) with benefits for several months now and so the issue did have to do with a relationship of sorts. Namely that the relationship has recently been expanded to three and not in the fun kind of way. 

For so long, Dabi’s only goal had been to take down Endeavor, and probably all of hero society while he was at it. He’d been single mindedly focused on ruining the life of the man who ruined his life. After all, his life was ruined. Revenge was his only real reason for existing. His--thing-- with Hawks had been just something on the side to make the days between now and the day he killed Endeavor more bearable. And it did. Make things more bearable, that was. More than he’d like to admit. It was fun to antagonize Hawks and have him antagonize him back and to dangle the offer of joining the League over his head. It was fun to have such an obviously dangerous plaything who was primed to betray him at any second. It was like playing with a Jack-in-the-Box, except when it decided it was done being toyed with, it would try to kill him. (Russian roulette. That was called Russian roulette. That was the sophisticated name for it. God, ‘Jack-in-the-Box?’ Dabi was more drunk than he thought). Tumbling into bed with Hawks? That took his entertainment value to a whole new level. A dangerously high level. A ‘I might like this more than I like taking revenge on Endeavor’ level. 

And now...now there was a kid. A wholeass baby. Dabi shuddered at the thought. He was gonna call it Omelet because that was something his drunk brain could handle. Ba--bab-- the ‘B’ word was too much right now. Now there was an Omelet that he would have to help take care of if he wanted to keep seeing Hawks (and he was pretty sure he’d mentally established he really wanted to keep seeing Hawks). 

What would he even have to do? Bring Hawks food? He could do that. He’d picked up the habit of bringing the hero food a while ago. If he brought Hawks food every day, then he could avoid hanging out with the bab--egg--Omelet. He could do that. He could bring Hawks food, they could get down and dirty for a bit, and then Dabi would leave Hawks to continue taking care of Omelet. Wash, rinse and repeat, until the egg hatched. Easy. 

Except...when was the egg supposed to hatch? Was it gonna be almost a year like an unmodified human pregnancy? Was it gonna be like...however long it took birds to hatch? Dabi didn’t know. He wondered if any of the other Leaguers would know. 

Spinner was kinda reptilian-looking. Reptiles hatched from eggs, right? Did Spinner hatch from an egg? One way to find out. 

Dabi sat up. “Spinner.” 

Spinner looked up from where he was clearly looking at pictures of Stain on his phone, which he quickly tried to minimize only to reveal his home screen, also a picture of Stain. “Wha-- yeah? Yes?” 

“Did you hatch from an egg?” No point in beating around the bush. 

Someone behind him spat out a drink and Toga screeched in laughter. Spinner himself seemed more shocked than anything. Flabbergasted. ( What an awful word , Dabi thought)

“Did. I? Hatch. From an egg.” Spinner repeated. 

“Diiiiid you?” Toga asked. 

“Yeah, I’m curious now, did you? I don’t care about that at all!” Twice said and contradicted.  

Spinner seemed embarrassed. “Why do you even need to know that?”

“He’s avoiding the question,” Shigaraki piped up for the first time from where he was crouched in a dark corner, playing video games. 

“I-I’m not! It’s just not a normal thing to ask someone!” Spinner protested. 

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you’re so normal,” Dabi quipped. “Just answer the question.”

“Don’t be shy, Spinner-kun! We’re just gonna assume the answer is ‘yes’ if you don’t tell us anyways,” said Toga. 

Spinner sputtered. “No! The answer is no I did not hatch from an egg . What is wrong with you?” 

“A lot.”

“Where to start…”

“I’m constantly battling myself! Hey, what’s wrong with you? !”

“What’s not wrong with me?”

“Well, I willingly choose to spend my time with you lot, so…” 

“I, personally, am immaculate. Free of flaws. Divine, even--”

 Facepalming, Spinner groaned. “Okay, okay! You know what I meant.” 

The bar lapsed into an amused silence. 

Dabi, ever destructive, broke it. “Okay, but do you lay eggs?” 

“ What is it with you and eggs ? I did not hatch from an egg, I do not lay eggs, I don’t even eat eggs!” Spinner stood up angrily. “Does anybody else have prying questions about my reproductive anatomy?” 

Toga raised her hand. “I read that snakes have two weiners and that crocodiles always have a boner. Do you?” 

Twice giggled. “Reptiles have weird junk.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a reptile, I am a human ,” Spinner protested. “I don’t know why I’m here anymore. This is not what Stain would have done.” 

Shigaraki cleared his throat. “Avoiding the question, again.” 

Compress was stifling laughter. “He’s always got a boner for Stain.” 

“ I do NOT! ” Spinner looked mortified. “I just admire him and his ideology and--”

“Spinner and Stainy sitting in a tree,” Toga sing-songed. 

Dabi turned away from the chaos and found, gratefully, that Kurogiri had refilled his glass. Well that had been no help at all. He didn’t know why he’d expected anything different. It wasn’t as if he would be taking parenting advice from anyone in the League. Except maybe Kurogiri. Dabi wasn’t sure he’d ever consider the man ‘fatherly’ but he was at least a good Vodka Aunt. None of them knew anything about kids (unless you counted Shigaraki acting like a manchild). Hawks wasn’t much more than a brat himself. Was he gonna be able to actually care for the egg? He seemed pretty confident when he’d dropped the news on Dabi, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Hawks might not be as qualified as he acted. Did an egg really just need to be humid, hot, and turned? Was that all there was to it? How hot did it need to be? How humid? Why did the egg need to be turned? Without a primary source on egg care, Dabi turned to the next best thing: Google. And subsequently wikiHow. 

Step 1, according to wikiHow was to obtain fertile eggs. Dabi chuckled. The egg was fertilized all right. In fact that was the problem. 

The next several steps detailed how to select the eggs to incubate, which were not relevant. 

Step 6 caught his eye. ‘Decide whether to use an incubator or a broody hen.’ Should they use an incubator? Was an incubator better? Checking the details, Dabi found the main drawback to using a hen was the risk that it may not be broody at the right time. Dabi fought a smirk; oh they had a broody hen alright. He remembered the way Hawks had cradled Omelet delicately in his arms. Dabi wasn’t in the habit of describing Hawks as ‘cute,’ but...it’d been kinda cute. Broody hen. Hah. 

“Looking into raising some chickens?” Compress asked. 

Dabi absolutely did not jump, but he did slam his phone screen-down against the bar as fast as he could manage. 

“Someone’s nosy today,” Dabi said defensively. 

“Someone’s got an interest in eggs today,” Compress retorted. 

“Yeah, why are you so interested?” Spinner asked, clearly eager to divert attention off of himself. 

Dabi shrugged. He couldn’t act too defensive or they’d never let it go. Too glib, and they’d see through it. Irritating. “Might have to egg-sit soon.” Good. Vague enough to mask that the egg is his but specific enough to satisfy their curiosities. 

“‘Egg-sit?’ Like you’re gonna sit on an egg?” Compress asked incredulously. 

Dabi scoffed. “‘Course not, that would break it.” Nobody needed to know he’d asked the same question to Hawks. 

“Are you gonna have little baby chicks? Can I hold them when they hatch?” Toga squealed. 

“Wait, wait, wait, if you’re egg- sitting then they’re not your eggs!” Spinner pointed accusingly. “Whose are they?”

Dabi felt like he was in that one stupid lawyer game...the one with the objections...whatever it was called. “Of course it’s not my egg, why would it be my egg.” Ooh, too defensive. Go back to aloof. “It’s Nunya’s.” 

“Who is ‘Nunya?’” Twice asked. “I know Nunya!” 

“None ya business,” Dabi answered. 

“Boooo!” Toga called. “Tell us!” Then she gasped. “Dabi-kun, did you get someone pregnant?”   

Dabi was gonna have to give her more credit. She figured that out way too fast. He’d clearly had too much alcohol because he was fumbling for a reply. 

Twice gasped dramatically. “No way! I would have never guessed! I totally called it.” 

“Wow! I was so sure you were gay!” Toga exclaimed. Dabi grunted. Yeah, definitely more credit. 

Spinner looked lost. “So wait. You got someone pregnant, they laid an egg, and you’re...gonna help raise it?”

Ah, there was the question Dabi himself had been agonizing over. Was he going to help raise Omelet? The one thing for certain is that he knew he was not going to be like his own father. His own father who beat his children, beat his wife, who pretended the children who disappointed him didn’t even exist, who ruined his life . So the bottom line was that if Dabi didn’t want to be like his father, all he had to do was not ruin Omelet’s life. That was easy enough, he couldn’t ruin someone’s life if he wasn’t part of it in the first place. He’d decided that early on. He tried to feel certain about that answer, but there was some nagging doubt somewhere in his fuzzy mind. Why was he feeling doubt? He didn’t like feeling doubt. Usually all he felt was hatred towards Endeavor or indifference towards anything else. Doubt was right out. But without a doubt (ha), doubt was filling him. What was he doubting? 

Sure, the kid might be sad or feel abandoned if he was only raised by one of his parents. But no good could come from Dabi raising the kid. Dabi was a villain who did nothing but harm, someone who had been whittled down to nothing but a will for revenge and arson-flavored destruction. At best, the kid would grow up with some warped view of the world, at worst, the kid would follow in his footsteps. (Dabi consciously decided not to reflect on the fact that he considered following in his footsteps was the worst fate the kid could have.) More likely, Dabi would try his best to be different than his dad, but he knew, and hated, that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Would he lash out in anger at the kid? Would he put impossibile expectations on him? Would he stray too far the other direction and seem like he didn’t care at all? What if he tried to care about the kid and just...couldn’t? Screw the doubt, there were too many ways that Dabi would mess up if he tried to raise the kid. He’d bring food to Hawks until the egg hatched, but after that, he was on his own--

Hawks. That’s where the doubt was coming from. Was Hawks gonna be able to raise this kid? They’d never gotten into it when they were, you know... getting into it , but Dabi was aware that Hawks had his own parental issues. Besides that, he was bratty and overconfident. He would definitely try to raise the kid on his own and just wing-- ha, wing-- it. What if Hawks ended up getting tired of having a child or Hawks ended up ruining the kids life and Dabi just stood back and let it happen? 

Then Dabi was struck with a realization. Maybe there was more to defeating Endeavor than just...defeating Endeavor. Maybe he could surpass him. Succeed where he failed. If he could, Dabi would stop anyone from having to suffer through the childhood he’d had. And for Omelet, he could personally see to that. What had he been thinking? It was nowhere near enough to just not be a part of Omelet’s life. If Dabi wanted to defeat his father, it wasn’t enough to just not be like him. Dabi had to be everything he wasn’t . He was gonna raise the shit outta this kid. Omelet was never gonna be scared of him, or anything, if Dabi could help it.

“Yeah…” Dabi said. “Yeah, I am gonna help raise it. I’m gonna raise a kid!”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Kurogiri chuckled. “That’s quite the commitment. I didn’t expect that from you.”

Toga squealed. “There’s gonna be a baby? There’s gonna be a baby? Can we meet it? Can I hold it? I promise I won’t stab it much.” 

“Baby’s not hatched yet,” Dabi pushed her away. “And you are not allowed to hold knives and the baby at the same time.” 

“Huh…” Compress said. Then “Huh…” again. 

Dabi fixed him with a glare. “Got something to say, clown?” 

“Just that I never took you for the parental type.” Compress shrugged. Before Dabi could retort, he continued, “But you sound like you’re actually gonna be a good dad.” 

Dabi felt weirdly touched by that. Gross. “Whatever,” he muttered, sounding pleased, much to his displeasure. He stood up and grabbed his coat from the back of the stool. He had some fried chicken to pick up, after all. 

Shigaraki coughed. “This better not affect your performance for the League.”

“Oh yeah, about that,” Dabi opened the door and saluted sarcastically. “Hawks and I are taking parental leave.”

The door closing behind him did little to muffle the shouts that followed after him. 

Chapter Text

Rumi banged her first against Hawk’s door. “Hawks! I know you’re in there, your location’s on!” Honestly. Usually this kid was more responsible than that. Nobody had seen him for a few days and rumors were beginning to fly. It wasn’t entirely unusual for him to go AWOL, but holing up in his apartment without a word to anyone else for days on end? That was suspicious. Hawks didn’t have a lot of friends in the hero industry (because he was irritating) and though Rumi wasn’t entirely sure about Hawks’ personal life, he’d never mentioned other friends to her. That meant if something happened to him, she was likely the only person who was gonna check on him. She knocked again. “Hawks!”

Her ears swiveled, trying to pick up any sounds of life. She could hear shuffling and...growling? Then footsteps. Finally the door creaked open just wide enough to reveal a haggard-looking Hawks. 

A pang of concern shot through Rumi. “Whoa...You okay, bud?” 

“Peachy!” Hawks gave her a thumbs up. “Never been better.” 

“You look like ass,” Rumi said bluntly. “You sick or something?” 

“Always happy to see you too, Rumi,” said Hawks. 

Rumi raised an eyebrow. “Mhm, yeah, your eyeliner is smudged . You’re not fooling me. What’s wrong?”

Hawks reached up to his face. “My eyeliner is not --” His fingertips came away dirty. He gasped. “My eyeliner! Don’t look at me!” He threw his arms in front of his face.

“Look, bud, I don’t know if you think I’m stupid or what, but something is obviously wrong. So we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Rumi took a step forward, trying to push past Hawks. The reaction was immediate. All of Hawks’ feathers stood up, he redoubled his efforts to keep the door mostly closed, and he let out what could only be described as a menacing coo. 

“Whoa, easy, easy .” Rumi stepped back placatingly. “We can talk out here, that’s fine.” 

Hawks did not look comforted. In fact, he kept shooting little glances over his shoulder, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. “Yeah, look...I’d love to talk-- really I would! You’re like my favorite person! But I’m a bit, uh, preoccupied, so I should really get back to--”
“Hey, you hiding something?” Rumi narrowed her eyes. This has quickly gone from concerning and amusing to suspicious. “You got a villain in there?”

Hawks laughed nervously. “A villain? What? Haha, w-why would there be a villain in my apartment? That’s wild!” He turned his head over his shoulder in a distinctly bird-like maneuver. “Yep, no villains here! This is a 100% villain-free zone. Don’t do drugs, stay in school, eat your vegetables, bye!”

Before he could fully close the door, Rumi lunged forward, shoving Hawks out of the way. Hawks’ wing beat frantically, sending up a storm of red feathers.

“No!” He shrieked. “No, stop, you don’t understand--!” He tried in vain to slow Rumi’s march into his apartment. If she were a nicer person, Rumi might have felt a little bad about this, but Hawks was acting shady. Intuitively, Rumi knew Hawks was a powerful and skilled hero, but he was kinda twinkish especially in comparison to her. If it came down to it, she was pretty sure she could beat him in a fight, or at the very least, an arm-wrestling contest. 

Apparently Hawks realized this too, because he switched methods. He fluttered forward and planted himself in front of his bedroom door. He spread his wings ridiculously wide. “Don’t come in here!” 

Rumi rolled her eyes. Wasn’t this guy supposed to be smart? Now she knew exactly where to look. 

“Stop! Please!” Hawks cried. Red feathers began tugging insistently at the back of her shirt. She swatted them away impatiently. Hawks began making noises like a distressed chicken. Rumi almost snorted. What gave her pause finally was when she noticed tears welling up in Hawks’ eyes. Okay that was not normal. 

“Hey, hey, why are you crying? I’ll stop, look, see?” She held her hands up. “Stop crying, you’ll ruin your eyeliner more.”

Hawks blinked several times and the rapid rise and fall of his chest began to slow. His wings didn’t return to normal size but he did look significantly less deranged.

“Hawks,” Rumi put on the best stern older sister voice she could muster. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Hawks sighed. He rubbed his hands over his face (carefully avoiding his eyes). “I...can I trust you?” He sounded so vulnerable, Rumi’s heart squeezed in her chest. She really did care about Hawks. He irritated her and made her laugh and quickly became like the brother she’d never had.

“Of course, bud. You can trust me.” She consciously made her tone reassuring. 

Hawks looked into her eyes searchingly. For a few tense moments, they were both silent. Then Hawks nodded. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “Okay. I’ll show you. Just...move slowly and don’t get too close.” 

“Sure thing,” Rumi agreed. A slew of theories of what Hawks was about to show her flew through her mind, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight that met her when Hawks stepped aside. 

On his bed, a mass of blankets, pillows, feathers, stuffing(?) and who knew what else was arranged in a pile. Nestled in the middle was...an egg. A pearly white egg about the size of an American football. Hawks hurried over to the nest and began adjusting pillows and blankets around the egg. 

“That is an egg,” Rumi said intelligently. 

“Sure is!” Hawks agreed. 

“You laid an egg,” said Rumi.

“Sure did!” Hawks confirmed. 

Rumi looked at the egg. Then she looked at Hawks. Then she looked at the egg. Then back to Hawks. 

“ That came out of you?” 

“Yep!” Hawks said without elaboration. 

Rumi blinked. She opened and closed her mouth several times. “...How--”

“Nope!” Hawks cut her off blithely.  

Rumi nodded. “Right. Right.”

At some level, she had known Hawks could lay eggs. It was one of the first stories he’d told her when they’d gone out drinking together. He’d told her about how before he’d really started getting around, he’d felt pent up and frustrated and how next thing he knew he was laying an egg! Literally! The part of the story that had made her choke on her drink had been Hawks detailing how he’d become so broody, he’d chased off the mailman, pizza man, and a stray dog. How he’d become single-mindledly obsessed with caring for this unfertilized egg. Eventually he came to his senses, went to a doctor, and managed to shake out of it. 

Rumi shook her head. “Oh Hawks...Should I take you to the doctor?”

“Ah, no, that’s not necessary--” Hawks shook his head vehemently.

“You know the sooner you get away from it, the sooner you can snap out of your broodiness.”

Hawks’ feathers flared at the suggestion he be removed from his egg. “NO! No, that’s not--”

“If it’s not fertilized, it’s not gonna hatch, bud,” Rumi reminded him. Hawks pursed his lips and did not meet her eyes. Wait… “Hawks. Is it fertilized?” He didn’t respond. “ Hawks.”

“Yeeeaaah…” Hawks tugged on his shirt collar. “It’s, uh...It’s pretty fertilized.” 

“Oh. My. God. Hawks.” Rumi clapped a hand over her mouth. 

“So yeah, that’s what I’ve been up to,” Hawks said nonchalantly. 

“Who’s the baby daddy?” Rumi demanded. 

Hawks grinned and made a show of zipping his lips. 

An idea popped into her mind. An unfortunately plausible theory. “No. No way. Hawks, don’t tell me, is it…” Ugh she couldn’t even say it. 

Hawks blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to have a guess. 

“Oh no, do you think I’m blind?” She scoffed. If Hawks thought he was subtle about what he wanted, he was dead wrong. “It’s Endeavor isn’t it?”

“Endeavor?” Hawks said incredulously. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my god, that would be fantastic. I wish it were Endeavor. Hey, do you think the media would believe the egg is Endeavor’s? Would you help me start that rumor?”

“Hawks.” Rumi deadpanned. 

Hawks looked far too excited. “I’m serious! Do you think with enough pressure from the public he would start paying child support? Can you imagine the headlines? ‘No. 1 Hero has Affair with No. 2 Hero: Lovechild on the Way.’”

“Nooo,” Rumi groaned. “Stop, I don’t wanna imagine that.” She thought for a moment. “I also do not want, under any circumstances, any knowledge about whether or not Endeavor could conceivably believe the egg is his. I just. I do not want to know that.” 

Hawks cheerfully zipped his lips again and gave her a cryptic thumbs up.  

Rumi rolled her eyes. “Weirdo. So if it’s not Endeavor, who is it? Do I know him?”

“Ah, no, you don’t know him,” said Hawks. 

“So what’s the problem with you telling me? Have you been sleeping around and just have no idea who it actually is? Are we gonna have a ‘Mamma Mia’ situation?”

Hawks groaned. “I don’t sleep around! Why does everyone think that? I’m loyal like ninety-- wait, no…” Hawks contemplated for a moment. “ At least eighty percent of the time.” 

Rumi couldn’t tell if he was joking. 

“So you know who the baby daddy is,” she pressed. 

“Yeah, I know who the baby daddy is,” said Hawks. 

“And you’re not gonna tell me who it is because…? Is he famous or something?” Rumi asked. 

Hawks screwed up his face, looking conflicted. “Yeah, I guess you could say he’s famous…” He muttered something under his breath that Rumi didn’t catch. ‘Infamous’ perhaps? 

“You must really care about him if you’re so concerned about his reputation. You wouldn’t even hesitate to throw Endeavor’s reputation under the bus. Is baby daddy paying you to keep quiet?” Then something occurred to her. “Unless it’s not his reputation you’re worried about.”

Hawks looked like a deer in headlights. Under different circumstances, Rumi might have laughed at him for being so readable, but right now it just made her angry. It was a good thing Hawks would never be considered for spy work. Any villain worth their salt would see through him in an instant. 

“Hawks,” she said in a low voice. “It’s not a villain is it?” 

Hawks gulped. He nodded minutely. 

Anger flared through Rumi. “Hawks , what the hell? You-- you’re the Number 2 hero! You should know better! What were you thinking?”

Hawks ducked his head. “Honestly? ‘Thinking’ had very little to do with it.”

“Um, obviously . How did this even happen?” Rumi rubbed her temples. If this were anyone but Hawks, she would have kicked him through the window by now. 

Hawks thought for a moment. “...Tinder?”

Rumi was unamused. “Nice try, bud.”
Hawks shrugged. “Okay, fine, it was Grindr.”  

“Strike two. I know you only use Grindr to get sugar daddies. You wanna get to strike three?” 

“How do you know he wasn’t a sugar daddy?” Hawks whined. 

Rumi conspicuously flexed her bicep.

Hawks deflated. “Alright, the truth? I was on a mission-- recon, stuff. And I met him, and we talked and...sparks flew, I guess. Haha. ‘Sparks flew,’ literally.” 

Realizing what he just said, Hawks slapped a hand over his mouth. 

Rumi’s eyes widened. ‘Sparks flew…’ ‘famous/infamous...’ “You hooked up with Dabi.” It wasn’t a question. 

“And the prize for super sleuth goes to Rumi. Yay.” Hawks gave some half-hearted jazz hands. 

Rumi’s mind raced. Dabi was a freaky powerful villain. He was the type to kill without hesitation or mercy. Rumi would never back away from a fight, but...she would also not go looking for one from Dabi. Had he taken advantage of Hawks? Threatened him? Forced him to lay an egg for some devious scheme? Her blood boiled. 

She placed a comforting hand on Hawks’ shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. He’s not gonna get away with this. I’ll track him down and kick his ass myself--”
Hawks grabbed her hand. “No that’s-- that’s not the situation…” Hawks looked away. 

Oh, now this was rich. “You haven’t fallen for a villain, have you?”

Hawks turned nearly as red as his wings. “‘Fallen for him?!’ No. No way. Absolutely not. But...I guess I’ve...ugh, I’ve gotten a little attached.” 

Rumi nearly exploded. “How much of a dumbass are you? What is there to get attached to?! He’s a villain. V-I-L-L-A-I-N. He’s one of the most wanted villains at large. Have you forgotten that, hm, I don’t know, he kills innocent people? Whatever you feel for him, I can guarantee he doesn’t feel for you. Don’t you get it? He’s not gonna come in here and help you raise baby and play Big Happy Family, or whatever the hell is going through your delusional little mind!”

Rumi thought she saw a flash of hurt in Hawks’ eyes but it was gone before she could be sure. A contrary look crossed his face. “Yeah, about that…”

This just kept getting better and better. “Hawks are you still seeing him?”

In lieu of answering, Hawks launched into a frantic tangent. “He actually took the news really well! He’s agreed to bring me food while I take care of the egg. He said he was only gonna get me delivery every other day, but so far, he’s brought me food every day--”

“You’re telling me. That you have consistently been aware of the location of a highly dangerous villain and you didn’t tell anyone? I have half a mind to turn you in! We could have set up a capture ages ago, do you know how many people could have been saved? I love you, Hawks, but this crosses a line. I have to tell the commission--”

“ NO!” Hawks let out an ear-splitting shriek and launched himself at Rumi. They tumbled to the ground. “Please I will do anything! You can’t tell them. They’ll take my egg away, they could kill him, they’re gonna kill my baby! You can do whatever you want after he’s hatched. I’ll help you capture Dabi, I’ll come quietly to be arrested. I’ll swear on my life that you didn’t know anything about it. I’ll tell Dabi he can’t kill anyone until the egg is hatched, I think-- I think he’ll listen to me, please!”

Sitting on top of her, Hawks seemed so small. He was strong, sure, but he was so short and lithe that in that moment he seemed delicate. His hands were shaking where they were clutched in her shirt. His eyes were wide. He was begging. He was scared. Rumi must be getting weak because she felt her anger drain out of her. Hawks was an adult, sure, but in some ways, in many ways, he was like a kid. Sitting on top of her was not Hawks, the Number 2 hero. This was a scared kid, halfway in love with a nogoodnik, desperate to protect his baby. All of it was so pathetic, it made Rumi’s heart squeeze. 

Don’t make me regret this , she thought to herself. “Oh, Hawks,” she sighed. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down against her chest. Hawks immediately reciprocated the hug and buried his face in her shirt. Rumi shook her head and rested her chin in the downy softness of Hawks’ hair. “You’ve gotten yourself into some deep shit, huh? We’ll get you through this. I’m not gonna turn you in.” 

She pretended not to notice her shirt getting wet. 

An hour, lots of tissues, an emergency reapplication of eyeliner, and some hot cocoa later, Hawks sat bundled in his nest, the egg cradled in his lap. He’d mentally taken to calling it Omelet, since that’s what Dabi called it, however distasteful-- well, maybe ‘disTASTEful’ was the wrong word-- he found the nickname. They were gonna have to pick out a name eventually, but it still felt too soon. 

Rumi was leaning against the wall next to the bed. “So you’re having a baby.” 

Hawks’ heartrate picked up as it always did when he remembered there was gonna be a baby at the end of this. He was excited by the idea but he also kind of had no idea what he was doing. Whatever. Fake it ‘til you make it! That was definitely a valid parenting strategy. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly.

“Do I get to be the honorary aunt?” Rumi smirked. 

Hawks hmmed and examined his nails (ugh, he needed to stop anxiously chewing on them. They looked gross). “Depends. Are you gonna throw me a baby shower?” 

Rumi raised an eyebrow. “You want a baby shower?”

Hawks shrugged.

“Who would you even invite?” Rumi asked. 

“I dunno, that’s why you’re the one throwing it for me.” Hawks shot her a cheeky grin. 

“Alright, let’s see...Endeavor, who we may or may not be trying to convince the world is the baby daddy, and who also has the cash to be able to get a nice gift, um… Fatgum is a sweet guy, he’d probably come if you asked...you know Best Jeanist, yeah? He’s been off the radar for a while, but if we can get in touch with him, he’d probably come. Uh, I guess we could invite that one kid from UA you like. Do you even know anyone else?”
“I’m gonna square with you,” said Hawks. “I could go either way on the party, I’m mostly interested in the gifts.”

“Brat.” Rumi accused. “In that case, we’ll invite your former sugar daddies too.”
Hawks laughed, forcing the corners of Rumi’s mouth to twitch. 

“Okay, finalized guest list: two or three pro heroes, an edgy goth teenager, and like fifteen wealthy older men,” Rumi listed. “Sounds like a party.” 

Hawks sniggered. “Can you imagine it?”
“What?”

“All of them, just sitting around at a baby-themed party and gossiping like wine moms?”

Rumi sputtered out a laugh. “Best Jeanist is a wine mom.”

“Fatgum is the Zumba mom then,” Hawks giggled. “Endeavor is definitely the overly competitive soccer mom who thinks her kids are better than everyone else’s.” 

Rumi’s laughter redoubled. “And what about you?” She managed between gasps. 

“Moi?” Hawks said. “I’m not a regular mom. I’m a cool mom!” He winked dramatically. No, Hawks was absolutely not above making Mean Girls references, thank you for asking. 

“Hawks, no! Do you want a Regina George? That’s how you get a Regina George.” Rumi ruffled his hair. 

“Hey, Regina George is one powerful bitch, I would be proud if my kid grew up like Regina George,” Hawks huffed. 

Rumi scrunched up her nose in a characteristically bunny-like way. “I thought she was a ‘mythic bitch?’”

“No, Rumi, that’s Heathers.” Then Hawks gasped. “I’m like Veronica!” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, ‘cause Dabi is like JD,” Hawks explained. 

Rumi shook her head. “Look, I don’t know how much attention you think I pay to your 80’s movies, but I can assure you, it’s much less than you think.” 

Hawks blew a raspberry. “I’m gonna make sure Omelet grows up liking 80’s movies.”
“Excuse me, Omelet?” Rumi said incredulously. 

“It’s what we’ve been calling him for now,” said Hawks, running his hand along the surface of the egg.

“But-- Omelet?” Rumi repeated. 

“It’s a joke from when I first told Dabi, he suggested we make Omelet into an omelet and forget any of this ever happened,” Hawks explained. “I’m pretty sure he was joking.” 

Rumi nodded. “Yeah, hate to break it to you, bud, but you are not quite living a normal life.”

“I’m shocked,” Hawks deadpanned. 

“So you’re calling the egg Omelet for now? When are you gonna give it a proper name?” Rumi asked. 

“It still feels too early. Definitely before he hatches. I’ve been looking into some names, but none of them feel right. Plus, ugh, this is stupid, but I want Dabi to agree on the name,” said Hawks. 

Rumi, thankfully didn’t comment on the last bit. “Do you know when he’s gonna hatch?”

“Uh...anywhere between 30 days and like 30 weeks?” Hawks offered. 

“So that’s a no then,” Rumi said. 

“If Omelet grows more like a bird in an egg, it’s going to be closer to a matter of weeks. If it’s more like how human pregnancy goes, it’s going to be a matter of months. I just don’t know. I was thinking about candling Omelet soon to see how much growth has happened and maybe try to get an idea based on that,” Hawks explained. 

Rumi looked pensive. “How do you know how to take care of it?”

“Instinct,” Hawks answered immediately. “It’s crazy. I can feel the egg and if it’s too cold, or whatever, I just feel off and wrong and bad. It can even wake me up.” And had been doing so liberally. Hawks thought the exhaustion was supposed to happen after the baby was born. But here he was, waking up all hours of the night to turn the egg, or hug it closer to warm up, or to run the shower and leave the door open to increase the humidity. Hawks was just glad that these weird instincts were making it so he felt comfortable in the conditions that made the egg comfortable. Hawks grinned at Rumi. “I have a fifth sense. It’s like I have ESPN or something.”

Rumi narrowed her eyes. “That’s more Mean Girls.”  

“That is more Mean Girls,” Hawks confirmed. 

“Seriously though, you gonna be good taking care of...Omelet...all by yourself?” Rumi asked. “I know your villain boo is bringing you snacks like a good daddy bird, but you’re doing a lot and there’s a lot of unknowns.” 

Hawks waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, I watched like three videos about incubating chicken eggs. I got this!” 

Yeah, he thought to himself. He had this.

Chapter Text

Hawks did not have this. 

He had lost track of days. He thought vaguely it might have been something around two weeks. It felt like a lot longer than that, but days did tend to feel longer when you were awake for most of them. He’d put soap instead of toothpaste on his toothbrush twice. His diet consisted almost exclusively of takeout fried chicken (well, that wasn’t actually that unusual for him, but he felt it added to the effect). He’d barely been able to shower before the anxiety of being away from Omelet sent him back to his nest. In short, he was a mess. 

His one saving grace was that Dabi always texted to ask what he wanted to eat before showing up, which gave Hawks enough time to gain some semblance of being put together. 

His phone buzzed. Speak of the devil.

From: Extra Crispy Chicken  

im here with food let me in

Well. That was different. Hawks glanced in the mirror. His hair was sticking up all over the place. (Now, to clarify, by ‘sticking up all over the place,’ Hawks meant in a way that was entirely distinct from his normal sexy, wind-blown, artful tousle. This wasn’t even sexy in the bedhead/sex hair way. It was just greasy and sad.) His eyeliner would be better classified as a smokey eye (unless those were just his eyebags?). Normally he’d slap on some concealer, some dry shampoo, and make sure his clothes looked cleanish, but it looked like there wasn’t time for that. Hawks scanned his room for something that might help.
Hat, he thought. I will wear a hat.

His phone buzzed insistently again. 

From: Extra Crispy Chicken  

u still alive

From: Extra Crispy Chicken  

hello? 

From: Extra Crispy Chicken  

if u dont answer ur door im gonna break in

Hawks pulled on the first hat he found, grumbling as he made his way to the door. He could physically feel every step he took away from Omelet. As was standard procedure, Hawks cracked open the door and reached one hand out, expecting a bag of hot takeout to be handed to him. Instead, someone grabbed his hand and yanked him out the door. Faster than he could get his bearings, Hawks was spun around and left staring at his empty doorstep. 

“You really need to clean,” a familiar drawling voice commented behind him.

Hawks turned around to see Dabi standing inside his apartment.  

He blinked, shaking his head. Dabi had just. Switched their places. Hawks really needed some sleep if he’d let that happen. He didn’t want Dabi getting the idea that he had power over him. That was bad news all around. 

“Sure, Dabi, come right in. Mi casa es tu casa. Thank you so much for asking,” Hawks griped. He followed Dabi back into the apartment and closed the door harshly. 

Dabi gave Hawks a once-over. “You look like shit.”

Hawks’ eye twitched. His appearance really shouldn’t be his biggest concern right now. He should probably be more angry about the fact that Dabi had just invaded his house. Or more importantly that he didn’t smell like fried chicken at all! But no, instead of commenting on any of that, he went with, “You weren’t saying that last...last uh...threeish...weeks ago?” When even was the last time they’d slept together?
“What?” Dabi said. 

“You weren’t saying that when we were having sex,” Hawks said triumphantly. He’d cleverly phrased it so he didn’t have to remember when that was.  

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause you looked good then,” Dabi scoffed. 

Hawks elected to ignore the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest at the sort-of compliment. “How long has it been, anyway?” He asked. Dabi would probably know. Dabi hadn’t been losing his mind taking care of an egg. 

Dabi grinned wolfishly, an interested glint shining in his eyes. He stepped forward to run his hands down Hawks’ sides. “Hmm, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Care to fix that?” 

Part of Hawks desperately wanted to agree, to be taken under and be given the release. The reasonable part of Hawks knew that he would probably be too worried about leaving Omelet alone to enjoy much. The hungry part of Hawks just wanted food. It was two against one. Maybe next time. 

“Uh-uh, buckaroo, hold your horses,” Hawks said. Two feathers neatly plucked Dabi’s hands off of him where they were wandering distinctly downwards. He placed one hand against Dabi’s-- large firm pec-- chest to create some distance between them. 

Dabi shrugged, looking disappointed. “Your loss.” He plucked the hat off Hawks’ head. “What’s with the hat?”

It was a hot pink monstrosity of a baseball cap with the words ‘Sugar Baby’ bedazzled in Swarovski crystals across the front. Hawks quickly snatched it back and tucked it under his arm. 

“It was a gift,” he explained, definitely not blushing. 

“Clearly,” Dabi commented.

Hawks didn’t really want to explain that he’d just put on the first hat he’d found so that Dabi wouldn’t see his messy, unwashed hair. It was much less embarrassing to just let Dabi believe Hawks casually wore gaudy hats (even if they clashed with his wings). 

“Where’s my dinner?” Hawks whined.

Dabi held up a grocery bag. “Working on it.” 

Well that was definitely new. “You’re...you’re cooking for me?” His heart did not flutter, his heart did not flutter, hisheartdidnotflutter--

“You’re gonna have a heart attack if you keep eating only crap-- and don’t claim you’re not eating crap, I know exactly what you’ve been eating, I’ve been bringing it to you. And, uh...I’ve gone to every place that does take out chicken around here twice, and that’s pushing limits. I don’t really wanna get recognized,” Dabi explained. He held up the bag. “So you’re eating real food tonight.”

Hawks narrowed his eyes. “Define ‘real food.’” 

“Nothing fried. Nothing processed.” He pulled out what appeared to be some beef cuts. “Some grain that’s not full of sugar.” He pulled out some rice. “And, this is very important, some vegetable matter.” He pulled out a bag of fresh mixed vegetables. 

Hawks made an expression like Dabi suggested he eat a cockroach. ‘“But...but fried chicken!”

“There’s no vegetable matter in fried chicken,” Dabi deadpanned.

Hawks (very barely) resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. Dabi wasn’t even trying to rile him up and he was succeeding. He instead went with the much more mature route of pouting silently. 

Dabi moved around the small apartment kitchen with surprising ease. Hawks hadn’t even known Dabi knew how to cook. Wait. Did he know how to cook? Hawks would be offended if Dabi insulted his refined pallet with overcooked beef and undercooked rice and --ugh, he was shuddering-- unseasoned vegetables. The one thing he couldn’t complain about was that Dabi did look good from behind. It wasn’t a sight he often saw since they just...didn’t trust each other. He supposed, reluctantly, that he didn’t pose much of a threat to Dabi right now. But more than that, it felt like a gesture of trust. It was all very domestic. 

“When’s it gonna be ready? I’m hungry,” Hawks complained, hurrying like a kid who’d just wolluped a hornet’s nest back to the safe, familiar territory of bickering. No warm-fuzzies here, thank you!

“If you’re gonna backseat cook, I’ll go slow on purpose,” Dabi threatened.

Hawks zipped his lips with an eye roll. He sidled up behind his new personal chef. Standing on his tiptoes, he watched over Dabi’s shoulder as he chopped up some onions. 

“You stink,” Dabi commented. 

That was an unusually childish insult. “You stink,” Hawks retorted. 

Dabi snorted. “No, I mean like. You need a shower. I can smell you over this onion.” 

Did he? Hawks subtly lifted his arm to give a sniff. Hm. Yeah. He reeked. The part of him still riled up wanted him to wrap his arms around Dabi and force him to live in stench with him. The other part of him went ‘ooh, shower…’ He thought a long, hot shower would literally be the sexiest thing to ever happen to him, and he would say that to any of his past lovers’ faces. Even Dabi. Especially Dabi. Ooh, maybe Dabi would join him-- wait no, Dabi was cooking. Plus Hawks had already shut down his advances. 

Hawks sighed in defeat. The pull he felt towards Omelet was growing steadily more insistent. He’d warm up his egg, take a shower, and then eat/complain about whatever Dabi cooked. 

Hawks was angry. Hawks was furious. Hawks was enraged.  

Why? 

Because, by some cruel trick, Dabi was an amazing cook, which wasn’t fair, because he looked like he ate next to nothing, and everything he did eat went straight to building his pecs. What? He had fantastic pecs. Guy was probably a D-cup of pure muscle. He had cleavage. That wasn’t normally Hawks’ deal, but it just really did it for him when Dabi wore those low-cut tanks-- he was getting off track. The point was if justice was real, everything Dabi cooked should be slightly burned. 

Dabi was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed losely. There was an amused glint in his eye-- the jerk-- as he watched Hawks hork down the food. Hawks didn’t even want to spare the attention to flip him the bird (get it? Bird?). 

It tasted...nutritious. It tasted...not greasy. In fact it tasted anti-greasy. It was like he could feel his arteries clearing. Was this...was this what kale ladies felt like? Hawks was about three vegetables away from taking a pilates class and starting a soup cleanse. Maybe he should invest in a smoothie maker…? 

“I take it you like it?” Dabi drawled. 

“It’s revolting,” Hawks replied, just to be contrary. 

“Right,” Dabi said, unruffled. “You want seconds?” He held up another bowl of prepared food.

“Yes please.” Hawks reached out his hands eagerly.

When he finally slowed his pace from ‘starving chihuahua’ to a reasonable human pace, Dabi cleared his throat. 

“So...Omelet,” he started casually. 

“Hm?” Hawks hummed, shoveling the last of the food into his mouth.

Dabi picked awkwardly at the sutures in his hand. “How’s uh...he's still an egg, and everything?”

“Last I checked,” said Hawks. “Speaking of, I should probably warm him up again.”

“Right, yeah.” Dabi nodded. “I should…uh…” 

He was being surprisingly fidgety. Surprisingly awkward. This was probably about Omelet. Did… “Did you want to come see him?” Hawks asked. 

“Yes! --I mean, yeah, I-- yeah,” Dabi said quickly. 

Despite his initial apparent desire to get rid of Omelet, Hawks was pretty sure Dabi had come around to a sort of nervous interest in their egg. While he found it grudgingly endearing, Hawks didn’t exactly want Dabi, who could produce searingly hot flames, to be overly nervous around Omelet. As such, he pretended he didn’t notice Dabi gulp as they entered his room.

Hawks went immediately to the bed, bundling Omelet into his arms. “Here he is!”

“He doesn’t look any different,” Dabi commented. 

Hawks tried not to laugh. “Well, yeah, eggs don’t really grow or change. All the change goes on inside.” 

Dabi nodded. He was really out of his element if he was just listening to Hawks. “I wish we could see what’s going on.”

“Yeah,” Hawks agreed. “I want to get some supplies so we can candle him. Then we might have an idea.”
Dabi looked vaguely horrified. “Candle?! Like…?” He held up his index finger, letting a small tongue of blue flame dance at the tip.

Hawks couldn’t hold back his laugh at that. “N-no! It’s just what they call shining a bright light through the egg so you can see what’s on the inside.” 

“What do you need to, uh, candle him?” Dabi asked. Hawks wouldn’t have taken him for such a diligent guy, but he was just full of surprises tonight.

“For chicken eggs, they use a flashlight and a cardboard tube. I guess we could use just a bright light and blankets.” Though he’d thought about the prospect of candling Omelet, he hadn’t given much thought to the mechanics. “Anyway, did you want to touch him?”

Dabi looked taken aback. “Am I allowed?” 

“You’re being shockingly polite about all of this,” Hawks mentioned, not unappreciatively. “Of course you’re allowed.”
“Well pardon me for not wanting to get sliced up by feathers,” Dabi grumbled. He reached out a hand towards Omelet. He hesitated for just a moment before placing his fingertips gingerly against the shell. His lips curved upward gently. “He’s warm. Good job mamma hen.” 

Dabi gently stroked the textured eggshell in silence. Then he looked up.

“How are we going to feed him when he hatches?” He asked. 

“I was thinking formula? If you’re asking if I’m lactating, the answer is no,” said Hawks. 

He shook his head. “No, I was wondering if we were gonna have to feed him like a baby bird.”

“God, I hope not,” Hawks gasped. “I can’t throw up on command, I don’t have a gag reflex!” 

Dabi smirked. “I’m well aware.” His hand had strayed from Omelet’s shell to Hawks’ thigh. 

Hawks pointedly plucked it off. “No.”

Dabi’s smirk fell and he frowned in frustration. “I don’t get it, what’s the hold up, Birdy?” 

Raising his eyebrows, Hawks gestured with both hands at the egg in his lap. 

“We can use the shower or the couch if you want,” Dabi suggested hopefully. “Or the wall. Or the table, or floor, I’m not picky.” 

Hm, tempting. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a master at seduction?” 

“Oh yeah, all the time.”

Hawks laughed. “I’d love to, but...What if Omelet gets too cold, or too dry, or needs to be turned?” 

Dabi considered. “...Quickie?” 

“No.”

“Fine,” Dabi groaned, standing up. “I’m leaving. Get some sleep before you keel over.” 

“Sure thing!” Hawks said. At the mention of sleep, a wave of exhaustion hit him. He’d like to say that he was fully alert until the highly wanted villain was certainly out of his home, but the truth was, he was falling asleep moments after Dabi left his room. 

“So your villain boo has graduated to personal chef?” Rumi asked over the lid of her coffee cup. 

Hawks slurped his kombucha loudly and nodded. When he’d asked for a ‘disgustingly healthy drink,’ he’d thought Rumi was going to have a heart attack. 

From : Bugs Bunny <3 

Who ARE you and what have you done with Hawks??

Something interesting had happened since Dabi started cooking for him: Hawks had standards. Well, standards about food. Obviously, he was still easy af when it came to people. Onions, apparently, were a gateway drug to vegetables. A gateway vegetable? But regardless of his newfound fondness for vegetables, he was not quite sure what to think about kombucha. Rumi told him there was alcohol in it and that was enough to pique his interest. The reality of it was...confusing? He was gonna go with ‘not good.’ He made a face.

“Not a fan of the kombucha?” Rumi asked. 

Hawks shook his head, pushing the bottle back towards her. 

“Hm, how’d I guess that’d happen?” She produced from somewhere behind her a super sugary-looking frappe topped with whipped cream. It was beautiful. 

“Rumi, you deserve to be the Number 1 hero,” Hawks said tearfully.
Rumi hummed. “And don’t you forget it, brat.”

Upon sipping the frappe, Hawks moaned. “How did I ever think I could be healthy? I love sugar so much. I was gonna start going to pilates!”

“Pilates? Hawks…”

“I know, I know,” he shuddered. “Oh yeah! I told Dabi he couldn’t kill people or do anything particularly villainous until Omelet hatches.”
“Oh? And how did your darling most wanted villain respond to that?” Rumi teased. 

Hawks smirked. “Mm, I convinced him. I have ways.”  

“Nasty,” said Rumi. 

In reality, Dabi had agreed pretty easily. He was swayed quickly by Omelet-related reasons. If Hawks had known that all it took to get Dabi wrapped around his finger was an egg, he would have bought an ostrich egg and told Dabi it was his ages ago. Maybe he could still spin this and convince Dabi to betray the League. He entertained the idea briefly. 

‘Come on, son, let’s go visit your daddy in prison!’ He would tell toddler Omelet. He snorted. 

He wondered how the League of Villains was taking the news of Dabi’s leave of absence from villainy. 

The League took the news about as well as Dabi expected. 

“Come again?!” Mr. Compress said incredulously. 

Dabi shrugged. “I already told you I was taking parental leave. This is what it means.” 

“So Dabi-kun isn’t coming on missions with us anymore?” Toga whined. 

“Pretty much,” Dabi agreed.

“But you’ll still help us plan and stuff,” Toga checked. 

“Sure,” Dabi agreed. 

“And you’ll still come to game nights?” Toga put on her best puppy dog eyes. 

Dabi snorted. “Do you think I’d miss the opportunity to watch Twice trash talk himself?”

“Hey, I don’t do that!” Twice protested. “I wouldn’t have to if someone would stop landing on tax spaces!” 

“You see what I mean?” Dabi said. “Though I’d like to request we not play Life this time.”

“Thank you!” Twice said. “What? No! I want to finally win!”

Toga patted Twice’s shoulder. “It will be okay.” In a stage whisper she added, “Dabi is just going to get way too attached to all the kids he has.”

Oh. No. She. Did. Not. “Hm, you know what? I think I’ve changed my mind. Game night is overrated.” 

“Whaaaat? No! I was kidding!” Toga grabbed onto his sleeve. “We can play, uh, Mouse Trap? You like Mouse Trap, right?”

“That was Moonfish,” Spinner reminded. 

Toga nodded. “Oh yeah, I remember. He ate the mice.” 

“What about a nice card game?” Mr. Compress suggested.

“I could go for cards,” Spinner said.

“Yay! Can we play BS?” Toga requested. “I wanna work on my lying face.”

“I was thinking we could play Mao,” Compress suggested hopefully. 

“I hate Mao,” said Toga, pouting. 

“I don’t trust you enough to play Mao,” Dabi said. 

“I don’t know how to play Mao!” Spinner yelled. “I think you just make things up to make us mad--”
Compress shook his head. “No, no, no! The point of Mao is that you figure out how to play! If you just play more than one round, I promise, it’s fun--”

Kurogiri cleared his throat. “I’d still like to continue that game of Monop--”

“NO!” 

Nobody wanted to continue that game of Monopoly.

“Ooh, what if instead of game night, we did karaoke?” Toga said. 

“I-I’d be down for karaoke…” Spinner said, sounding shy. “I mean, like, if the rest of you are…”

“Yay!” Toga cheered. “KARA-OKE!”

Twice joined her chant. “KARA-OKE! KARA-OKE!”

“If I have to listen to any of you sing, I will burn this entire place down,” Dabi threatened. 

“Sounds like somebody can’t sing,” Compress said. 

“Yeah,” Dabi agreed. “Everyone here, in fact.”

“I can sing…” Spinner protested quietly. 

“Maybe we can do a game night and a karaoke night,” Kurogiri tried to compromise. 

“We’re playing Clue,” Shigaraki stated with an air of finality.

Dabi shrugged. “Clue works.”

“I like Clue!” said Toga. “I like the part about the knife.”

There were murmurs of assent from the rest of the League.   

Toga waved her hand. “Hey, Shigaraki-kun, can we expand our game selection to video games? I wanna place Dance Dance Revolution.”

“I thought we established the rules: if you want to play a specific game, you have to bring it yourself,” said Shigaraki. 

“That’s not a no!” she cheered. “You hear that, Dabi-kun? We can play DDR. You won’t wanna miss that!”

Dabi grunted in response. Yeah, there was no way he was missing DDR. 

Toga turned her piercing gaze onto Twice and Spinner. She clapped her hands together. “So! About karaoke--”

Dabi quickly extracted himself as to not be part of that conversation. Kurogiri waved him over amiably. 

“How is parent life treating you?” Kurogiri asked. Normally, Dabi would be on-guard and prepared for teasing, but Kurogiri was the one League member he trusted to be asking because he genuinely cared. 

“Omelet is still an egg, so...he’s not up to much. Hawks takes care of most of the egg care-- he has some freaky weird instincts that help him. Right now, I’m just in charge of the cooking and supplies runs,” Dabi answered honestly. 

“You’re cooking?” Kurogiri sounded surprised.

“Didn’t wanna get recognized at takeout places.” Dabi shrugged. He also was getting...not ‘worried,’ that was too strong of a word… baffled? Horrified, maybe? By the sheer quantity of fried chicken Hawks ate and the frequency at which he ate it. He also still wasn’t sure of the ethics of such a bird-like person eating so many birds. 

“Right,” Kurogiri said. Dabi narrowed his eyes. Did he sound unconvinced? “It must be frustrating not to be able to see what’s going on.”

“We’re gonna try to see what’s in the egg when we get a bright enough light to, uh, candle him.” He was still having a hard time calling it ‘candling.’ Maybe it was just his negative associations with fire. 

“Now isn’t that exciting.” It was impossible to tell with Kurogiri, but Dabi thought he could hear a smile in his voice.   

Dabi shrugged. “Kind of freaky, if you ask me.” It was going to be the first time they could see inside the egg. Hawks insisted he knew it was fertilized, but there was probably still a chance that he was mistaken. Once they candled him, it would give them a definitive answer. 

A definitive answer about whether or not you’re going to be a dad, Dabi thought to himself. No biggie.  

Kurogiri chuckled. “It’s okay to be nervous.” 

“Nervous about what?” Dabi bristled. 

“Seeing inside, waiting until the egg hatches, raising a child, the prospect of parenthood itself… Plenty to be nervous about. But also,” Kurogiri’s voice sounded warm. “Plenty to be excited about.” 

Dabi felt suspicious. Was Kurogiri reading him? Was he readable? Dabi didn’t like that one bit. His aloofness was part of his identity. 

“You sure seem excited about it,” Dabi said accusingly. 

“What can I say,” said Kurogiri. “I like kids.” 

“Obviously, considering the company you keep.” Dabi jerked his head back to where Shigaraki was probably frantically scratching his neck or something. 

Kurogiri disguised his laugh as a cough.  

Dabi’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He knew better than to check it in view of the League (they had no concept of privacy) but he didn’t have to look to know it was Hawks being hangry. 

Dabi sighed, moving towards the door. “I should go feed my chicken.” 

“You do that,” Kurogiri agreed. 

“Aw, Dabi, are you leaving already?” Twice called. “Good riddance!”

“Say ‘hi’ to your boyfriend from me!” Toga said. 

Dabi froze. “My what?”  

Toga hesitated. “Your… boyfriend? Hawks?” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Dabi insisted with as much intensity as he could muster. 

“Really now?” Compress said skeptically. “I’d assumed with all the ‘we’s and the ‘my chicken’s and the ‘having children together’s that you two were… you know, together.” 

Dabi regained his composure. “Hm. Well you know what they say about assuming.” 

Toga gasped dramatically, throwing her hands over her mouth. “Oh no, Dabi-kun… He doesn’t like you back?” 

Remember that composure he’d just regained? Yeah. 

“What?” He ground out. 

“Well, if he liked you back, you’d be together, right? Unless there’s another problem…” Toga said. 

“Let’s back it up to the part where you’ve, again, assumed I like him.” Dabi’s heart pounded in his ears. From anger. He was angry. 

“You don’t?” Toga asked. 

“Was there anyone here who wasn’t under the impression that I have a stupid crush on Hawks?” Dabi demanded.

Shigaraki raised a hand. “I don’t think you’re capable of love.”

“Thank you!” Dabi said. 

“Are you sure you don’t like Hawks?” Toga pressed. “Spinner thought--”
“Don’t drag me into this!” Spinner whispered frantically. 

“No, no,” Dabi drawled. “Tell me what you thought, lizard boy.” 

Spinner shook his head. “You know, I think I’d rather not--”
Toga jumped in. “He said he thought Hawks represented a connection to the hero world that as much as you hate, you’re also obsessed with it and that Hawks started off as a game of ‘how close can I get without being burned’-- which is funny for obvious reasons-- but you got too close and now that you’re gonna to have a kid together, it’s reawakened a part of you that you forgot you even had. The part that longs for a ‘normal life’-- overrated, if you ask me, Dabi-kun-- and that now that you’ve started on that path, you can’t help but to love the person that made you feel something other than hate.” 

You could have heard a pin drop. 

Dabi tried several times to get a response out. “Thanks for the psychoanalysis,” he managed. “Let me know when you publish your fanfiction.”

“But he was right, wasn’t he?” Toga asked. 

“I’ll give you ten guesses,” Dabi muttered, storming out. 

Head down, he marched past buildings. His breath  swirled in the air in front of him. The chill didn’t bother him much. He needed to cool his head anyway before Hawks would let him near Omelet. Maybe he’d just take an extra walk before heading over. Once he was a safe distance away from the League hideout, he pulled out his phone. 

He was in luck; he had a stop to make.

Chapter Text

“What took you so long, I’m starv-- Ooh chicken!” Hawks snatched the takeout bag from Dabi. Opening it, he inhaled deeply. “Oh grease, I’ve missed you so much.” 

“Quit being dramatic, it hasn’t even been a week.” Dabi rolled his eyes.

“What’s in that bag?” Hawks asked with his mouth full. 

Dabi held up the bag in question. “This? Well. You know how you were talking about needing a bright light for candling Omelet?” 

Hawks’ mouth fell open (while there was still fried chicken in it. Gross). “You didn’t.” 

Dabi pulled out the extra strength search-quality light.

“You did!” Hawks squealed. He threw the chicken on the counter and quickly wiped his hands on his pants. “Let’s go candle Omelet!” Hawks was bouncing foot to foot eagerly like some excited kid. It was objectively cute. 

‘You can’t help but to love the person who made you feel something other than hate,’ Toga’s words-- well, Spinner’s words, technically, but delivered by Toga-- echoed through Dabi’s mind. He nearly slammed his head against the wall to rid himself of the memory. Obviously, he found Hawks attractive. That was, again, just an objective truth. That had nothing to do with feelings. If there was anyone he was going to lo-- l-- lov--, you know, it was going to be Omelet, his kid. Hawks was right out. There was only room for one, very small person in Dabi’s stitched-up heart and he was sitting in an egg. 

Is there even room for him? A very rude and unappreciated voice asked in his head. Are you even capable of love? Or are you just going to end up like your father, trying to force yourself to love a child--

“Come on!” Hawks grabbed his hand, yanking him both from his thoughts and off his feet. He quickly regained his balance and allowed himself to be led into Hawks’ bedroom. Not in, like, a sexy way, unfortunately. Hawks ‘didn’t want to leave Omelet alone for that long’ and ‘was too tired’ and ‘needed to save his energy to take care of Omelet.’ Normally, all he’d had to do was wink at the guy and he’d start stripping. How times had changed… But at least he knew Hawks was doing a really good job taking care of Omelet. He couldn’t complain about that. 

“So we can put the light on the bed facing up so the light can shine through the egg, and then we can make a ring out of a blanket to make a seal around the light so it all shines into Omelet and Omelet won’t roll away or anything.” Hawks shuffled around, quickly making adjustments to the large nest in the center of his bed. His wings gave occasional flaps of pure joy. 

Together, they worked to set up the light and nest. Dabi flipped the light on and cringed at the brightness. 

“Ready?” Hawks said. 

Dabi nodded. Hawks lowered Omelet slowly into the nest and over the light. Omelet turned a golden red as the light went through the shell. Dabi squinted but he couldn’t really tell anything useful. 

“I’m gonna turn the lights off. Then we can really see what’s happening.” Hawks sounded as breathless as Dabi felt. 

The lights went off. Dabi wasn’t sure why, but he closed his eyes. He just...he needed a second. This was it. This was the moment of truth. When he opened his eyes, he would know indisputably whether or not he was going to be a dad. Some part of him knew that it wasn’t necessary that he fall in love with Omelet immediately. On the Mommy Blogs he read-- yes, he was reading Mommy Blogs now, shut up-- some new mothers felt concerned when they didn’t instantly feel a connection to their children. Mamma Susan, a 39 year old mom to four (she had the best advice. And recipes!) always reassured these new moms that sometimes the connection took time. Sometimes you needed to get to know the kid a little before you felt that world-stopping love.

‘It doesn’t make you a bad mamma! It just means you love your baby for who they are!

XOXO, Mamma Susan (P.S. give your bundle of joy a smooch from me!)’

And that was after the kid was born. It would be okay if he didn’t feel immediately attached just from seeing a silhouette of the developing embryo. It didn’t mean he was incapable of love. Even so, he felt a weird sensation that it was now or never, like this would decide if he could ever actually love the kid. 

Or if he would turn out like his father.

Hawks gasped. “Dabi! Look!”

Dabi opened his eyes.

There, dancing at the top of the egg was a tiny little shadow, maybe the size of a golf ball. At first, Dabi thought it was frantically twitching. But no, he realized, that was Omelet’s heartbeat. It was tiny and fluttering, but it was there . That was his kid’s heart beating, pumping blood through the spider web of veins illuminated against the shell. That was his kid growing in there! That was-- whoa…

In his time as a villain, Dabi had seen more than his fair share of blood, guts, and horror. He himself had incinerated plenty of people. He’d seen people torn limb from limb, decapitated, disemboweled, ripped apart or disintegrated at the molecular level. None of that had fazed him. But standing in the dark of Hawks’ bedroom, watching his baby’s tiny, quivering, delicate heartbeat, he felt the world tilt around him. 

Hawks glanced up. Omelet’s heartbeat reflected in his sparkling eyes. “Isn’t that amazing? You can see his heartbeat-- Dabi? Are you okay?” 

“I’m gonnnnaa--...” Dabi passed out. 

Dabi’s head hurt. Something cold was pressed against the back of it, so that was nice. He was also laying somewhere soft and comfy that smelled good. All in all, he considered this situation a net positive and no change was necessary. Wait. He burrowed further into the soft blankets. Now no change was necessary. 

“Hm, you awake there, crispy?” A familiar voice said with a chuckle. 

Reluctantly Dabi peeked open an eye. Hawks’ face hovered inches above his, grinning like a maniac. 

“I didn’t take you for a squeamish guy, I’ll be honest with you,” Hawks said, not moving away. 

“Mphmrdr,” Dabi mumbled into the blanket. 

“Hm? I didn’t catch that,” Hawks tittered. 

“I said,” Dabi growled, lifting his face so his nose pressed against Hawks’. “Move your damn face.” 

“‘Kay!” Hawks agreed. He tilted his head forward to press their lips together. It was chaste and brief because Hawks smiled into it before it could go anywhere, but it was...nice. Dabi briefly wondered if he was dreaming. But no, if he were dreaming, Hawks would be less irritating.

“Mm, gross,” he said, but couldn’t help a small smile. “He has a heartbeat.” 

“He has a heartbeat!” Hawks squealed, right in Dabi’s ear. 

Dabi fell back against the pillow, forgetting his tender head. “Oh my god, we’re going to have to name him.”

“You just now realized that?” Hawks sat back on the bed. 

Dabi groped around for the ice pack to press back against his sore head. “It’s more that I now know that there is a kid.” 

Hawks scoffed. “What, did you think I was lying just so you would bring me food?” 

Dabi shrugged. In truth, the thought hadn’t crossed Dabi’s mind. What kind of villain was he? He should be more suspicious. New Year’s resolution, right there.

“Any ideas?” Hawks asked. 

“Ideas?” Dabi repeated.

Hawks rolled his eyes. “For our kid’s name?”    

 Oh. Did he have ideas? Dabi could say with some amount of certainty that he had never thought about kids’ names ever in his life. Sometimes he didn’t even care about people’s actual names. Nicknames worked just fine. 

“Uh… Does… Omelet not work?” Dabi said.

Hawks fixed him with a stare. “You want. To name our son. ‘Omelet.’” 

“Yes…?” Dabi said. “I don’t see why not, it’s worked so far.”

Hawks inhaled deeply. “That’s because he is an egg.”  

Dabi shrugged again. “Tamago, then?” 

“That’s worse!” Hawks insisted. 

“What about just Tama?” Dabi said.

Hawks considered it. “Tama? Like ‘jewel?’”

“I mean, he is, uh,” he nodded to where Omelet was nestled in his nest. “He is a treasure.” 

“Aw, Dabi, how shockingly tender of you!” Hawks cooed. 

Dabi did not blush. “Shut up, I’m leaving.” He rolled out of Hawks’ bed and was immediately hit by a wave of nausea. He crouched on the ground, holding his head. 

“Shit, Dabi, are you okay?” Hawks’ voice was riddled with concern and he was by his side in an instant. 

“I think I have a concussion,” he moaned. Hawks started laughing, the bastard. “I’m serious, stop laughing!” That just made Hawks laugh harder. 

“Imagine, all this time, all it took to take out the infamous Dabi was a heartbeat!” Hawks said gleefully. 

“I could be dying. Aren’t you a hero? Shouldn’t you help me?” Dabi said.

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” He leaned into Dabi’s personal space. “I’ve made a foray into villainy.” 

“I thought you were having a hard time with that,” Dabi commently glibly. 

Suddenly Hawks was a lot more in his personal space. “Oh I’m having a hard time alright,” he whispered. 

Really? Really? Now of all times?! The one time he wasn’t feeling up for it was the time Hawks was feeling frisky? 

“I have a concussion, I don’t wanna bone!” Dabi protested, shoving Hawks off of him. Hawks had the audacity to pout where he ended up sprawled on the floor. 

When Dabi didn’t immediately crawl for his forgiveness, Hawks sighed. “I’ll get you some medicine, stay here.”
“‘M not exactly a flight risk…” Dabi muttered. 

Hawk returned a few moments later with some pills, water, and a fresh ice pack. Dabi accepted them gratefully. He wasn’t the biggest fan of being so vulnerable, but he figured if Hawks was going to kill him, he would have done so already. 

“You really bumped your noggin there, huh?” Hawks said. Dabi didn’t grace that with a response. Hawks cleared his throat. “You can stay here. Tonight. If you want.” 

Dabi grunted in thanks and crawled back into Hawks’ bed. He wasn’t sure if you were supposed to sleep on a concussion or if you weren’t supposed to sleep on a concussion or if he even had a concussion, but he was quite sure that he was going to sleep.  

Dabi woke up feeling well rested, cozy, and resfreshed in a way he wasn’t used to. It was disorienting. Opening his eyes, he saw that he was in Hawks’ room. 

Right , he thought. I passed out. The good news was, he didn’t exactly feel concussed, just bruised. He looked around without lifting his sore head. There was no clock in his line of sight, but judging by the milky light filtering in from the window, he guessed it was probably around six in the morning. Hawks himself was sat up in the middle of the bed, his wings curled around himself and presumably Omelet. His eyes were unfocused, just staring off into the distance. He hadn’t yet noticed Dabi was awake. 

Maybe it was rude to stare, but hey, Dabi was a rude guy. He one hundred percent took the opportunity to stare. Hawks’ hair was greasy (Dabi guessed he still wasn’t getting much time to shower) and was starting to get long. If he was still confident in his braiding skills, Dabi probably could have managed to give him a french braid. Maybe pigtails. There were heavy bags under his bleary eyes and it had been a while since he’d filled the markings around his eyes in with eyeliner. It had also been a while since Dabi had seen him in anything besides lounge pants and a tank top. In short, the guy looked exhausted. When Dabi moved to sit up, Hawks’ gaze immediately sharpened to focus on him.

“Hey, babe, are you awake?” Hawks grinned at him.

“‘Babe?’” That was new. 

“Hm, just trying things out. Plus I thought I’d be romantic, with you waking up in my bed and all. It’s good manners!” Hawks unfurled his wings. “Say ‘good morning’ to your son.” 

“Mornin’ Omelet,” Dabi grunted. “Did you get any sleep at all?’

Hawks looked at him in surprise. “Who, me? No, not really, why?” 

Dabi had figured as much, but the reality of Hawks going around the clock taking care of Omelet by himself finally hit him. Dabi was Omelet’s dad too, he should be doing his fair share taking care of him. He knew with chickens, the hens did tend to do all the egg care, but he was pretty sure hawks tended to split egg care duty. Or was that penguins? No, with penguins, the dads sat on the egg and the moms went out for food. Technically, he and Hawks were both dads, but since Hawks laid the egg, that did make him distinctly more mom-like in the literal sense-- but screw the birds. The birds weren’t important. He and Hawks weren’t birds. Well. He wasn’t a bird, at least. It didn’t matter who was the ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ or how hawks vs. chickens vs. penguins decided who was gonna sit on the egg and who was gonna get food. This was about him and Hawks and Omelet, and Dabi was feeling less and less like letting Hawks do all the egg care. 

“Dabi?” Hawks prompted when Dabi wasn’t answering. 

“Maybe we should switch to the penguin model,” Dabi said. 

“The what?!”  

“Ya know, like how the dad penguin keeps the egg warm and the mom penguin goes out and gorges herself on fish to regurgitate into the baby’s mouth when it hatches in the spring?” Dabi explained. “Haven’t you watched March of the Penguins (2005)? Happy Feet, maybe?”

Hawks blinked owlishly at him. “...Okay, I’m going to assume that what you’re getting at here is that you want to watch Omelet?”

Dabi shrugged. “Mostly I want you to take an actual shower. Maybe a nap. Maybe put on some real clothes.” 

“Aw, babe, are you worried about me?” Hawks crooned. 

Dabi bristled at the suggestion that he felt anything about Hawks besides annoyed or horny. “‘Course not. I’m worried about my nose. And my eyes.”

“Sure,” said Hawks, voice dripping with sarcasm. “And um… I guess I do need a shower.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Dabi said. 

Hawks ignored him. “I guess you can’t do much harm in ten minutes-- that is not a challenge. But I guess if you’re gonna watch Omelet, I guess I can take a quick shower. I guess.” 

“You guessed correctly. Move,” he shooed Hawks away from the nest so that he could bundle Omelet into his arms. Hawks watched him suspiciously even as he moved about to gather some clean clothes. When he turned to enter the bathroom, Dabi reached out and swatted his ass. “Make it a long shower!” He called over Hawks’ squawk of protest. 

“It’s good to see you back among the living, bud,” Rumi said affectionately. She ruffled his (once again fluffy, soft, and fabulous) hair. “I’ve missed hanging out with you.” 

They were walking side by side down the sidewalk of the shopping district. Rumi offered to take them on her motorcycle, but it had been so long since Hawks had been able to stretch his legs. 

“Feels weird to be away from Omelet,” Hawks admitted.

“Yeah, about that,” Rumi began. “Are you sure it’s okay to let Dab-- ‘Crispy’ watch Omelet on his own?”

Hawks waved off her concern. “Yeah, yeah, he won’t admit it but he’s fond of him. He definitely won’t hurt him, if that’s what you’re worried about. If you’re just worried he’s incompetent, I understand.” 

Rumi still looked skeptical. “How do you know he won’t hurt him?”

Hawks contemplated. “I told you we candled Omelet right?”

“Yeah?” Rumi said.

“Well, when ‘Crispy’ saw Omelet’s heartbeat, he literally passed out,” Hawks said, a bit more affectionately than he meant to. 

“You sure he wasn’t just shocked there was something in the egg?” Rumi pressed. 

Hawks laughed. “He’s not smart enough to think I was tricking him. I think he was just excited.” 

“There’s another thing I don’t understand,” said Rumi. “If he were dumb but cute, I might understand why you like him. But he’s dumb and...crispy. So what gives?”

“First of all, I don’t ‘like’ him, I like sleeping with him, and that just takes good, uh, equipment. Good hardware, ya know?” Hawks said, winking. “Doesn’t matter if his processor is slow, he’s got good RAM.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Rumi deadpanned. 

“I’m saying he’s got a big--”
Rumi smacked a hand over his mouth. “I know what you’re saying, I just--ugh. I didn’t need to know that.” She thought for a moment. Then, “Does he really?” 

Hawks nodded, prying her hand off his mouth to reveal a smug grin. 

“Huh, wouldn’t have guessed it.” 

“‘Twas a pleasant surprise,” Hawks agreed.   

“You know, I think I’m beginning to understand the situation a bit better now,” Rumi commented. Hawks laughed. 

“Here we are!” He announced. They stopped in front of a storefront decorated like a nursery. It was a huge baby-supplies store, complete with maternity clothes to toddler beds. It was definitely boujee, but Hawks wanted the best for his baby. 

Rumi wrinkled her nose. “I can smell the baby powder from here. You’re lucky I like you, baby supplies shopping is not my first choice of how to spend the afternoon.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Hawks dragged her inside. The first thing on display was hero-themed baby gear. Hawks pulled a onesie with his costume shirt pattern off the rack. “Would it be narcissistic to get this for my baby?”

Rumi snorted. “No matter what I answer, I know you’re buying it.”

“Of course!” Hawks grinned. 

“What about this Endeavor one?” Rumi held up a onesie made to look like Endeavor’s costume. 

“Uh, well, ‘Crispy’ isn’t the biggest Endeavor fan… “ Hawks cautioned. 

“So?” Rumi said. “You are.” 

“That’s true. I’ll just hide it from him.” Rumi chucked the onesie at him and went back to perusing the display. They were mostly onesies, Hawks noticed, and mostly All Might. There was also plenty Endeavor merch, but he did think Dabi would probably catch on fire if he brought home any more than just the onesie. The cute little fire boots and matching gauntlets were very tempting. 

“Oh my god,” Rumi said from somewhere on the other side of the display. All Hawks could see were her ears. “There’s a me onesie.” She reappeared holding up a short sleeve onesie with dark purple legs (opposed to Miruko’s purple thigh highs), bunny tail, the signature crescent moon across the chest, and best of all, a hoodie with bunny ears.

“We’re getting it,” Hawks said. 

Rumi ruffled his hair again. “You better, or we’re not friends anymore.”

Hawks held up the small pile of onesies he had accrued. “As great as these are, I don’t think they’re going to fit Omelet when he hatches. The egg is big but it’s not big. Let’s go get some actual newborn stuff.” 

“Right. So what are we getting?” Rumi asked.
“Uhhh…” Hawks said. “I think I have a list somewhere on my phone…”

Rumi looked unamused. “Let’s ask one of the salespeople.” 

“Good idea!” Hawks agreed immediately. That was the responsible parent thing to do! (He ignored the thought that the responsible parent thing would probably be to have known what he was getting before going out.)

Rumi quickly flagged down one of the store workers. She was a motherly looking older woman with a round, kind face. “Excuse me, ma’am!” Rumi called. “We’re shopping for supplies for a newborn, would you be able to help us out?”

The lady’s face went saccharine. “Oh, how wonderful!” She cooed. She gave Rumi a once-over. “How far along are you, dear?”

Rumi’s eyes bulged. “Me? No. Him.” 

Hawks waved. “Three weeks!” He said proudly. 

The salelady looked confused and distressed. Hawks decided to take mercy on her. 

“Do you have a list or recommendations for newborn care?” Hawks asked her again. 

“Of course,” she said distantly. “Right this way, dears…” 

Despite their guide’s perplexion, she did her job well. It came as no surprise that she was definitely a more traditional woman. When she found out Hawks didn’t actually know Omelet’s (for her sake, he referred to Omelet simply as ‘baby’) sex, she encouraged him to buy neutral colored and styled clothing. Yeah, no, screw that, Hawks was buying anything and everything that caught his fancy. This included, but was not limited to:

• A hot pink onesie with “Sassy!” written across the front
• Several hats
• Anything with a bird on it
• A shirt that said “Hot Stuff” on it (that one was for Dabi)
• A shirt that said “Chicken nugget” (that one was for Hawks)
• A set of breakfast food themed swaddling blankets (that one was just funny)
• And much, much, (much) more

Several hours later and a shopping basket with a total more than Hawks cared to think about, he was stuck in front of the shoe section. 

“Are we almost done? I wanna get burritos,” Rumi complained. “Hey, bud? You in there? Hello?”

Hawks turned to her, holding the tiniest pair of shoes he had ever seen in his life. “The shoes,” he whispered.

“Yeah? What about them?” Rumi asked. 

“They’re… they’re just too small. I’m gonna have a baby with feet this tiny.” Hawks was on the verge of tears. They were too small. They were too tiny. How was this possible. 

“Allll right, I think you’ve breathed in too much baby powder. Let’s get checked out and then we’re going for burritos.” Rumi grabbed a pair of soft shoes at random, and steered Hawks towards the checkout. Together they piled baby clothes, blankets, toys, bottles, and bedding to be rung up. Hawks was right. The total was terrifying. 

Hm, he thought. Technically, he got knocked up while doing hero work. Technically, he could consider it part of the job. Maybe if he really went for the angle that sleeping with Dabi was all according to plan to get into the League, he could count these expenses as part of the mission. The Hero Commission was rich. They should be paying child support. All things considered, they’d fucked him over enough times, Hawks could probably get somewhere claiming the Commission was the father. Collectively. Conceptually? Something.

Hawks sent his feathers to collect and carry the bags. “You’re paying for burritos,” he told Rumi. 

She snorted. “Sure thing, bud. I’ll pay for drinks too.”
“Rumi,” Hawks whimpered. “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: no matter what the rankings are, you’re my #1 hero.”

She grinned. “Yeah, yeah, save the sappiness. Let’s go get wasted.”      

Watching Omelet was… boring. Dabi thought he knew what to expect. He’d been taking some shifts watching Omelet while Hawks napped or showered, but this was his first time truly alone with Omelet. It turned out, there was a big difference between watching, sometimes cuddling, an egg for an hour and watching an egg all day. 

He’d spent the first hour constantly checking Omelet’s temperature, the room’s humidity, and wondering if he should text Hawks. (Hawks left a feather tucked against Omelet, so he’d know for sure if something was wrong.) By the second hour, the novelty of egg-sitting ( not literally) had worn off. See the thing about eggs was, they don’t do anything. 

Dabi started texting Toga idly. 

To: The Stabby One

yo

Yes, Dabi purposefully backspaced and made sure there were no capitals in his text. He didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea that he cared. Capital letters just seemed too enthusiastic. Toga’s response was immediate.

From: The Stabby One

OMG HI!!!! DABI-KUN~! (◕ᴗ◕✿)

From: The Stabby One

I can’t believe you’re actually texting me!! 

From: The Stabby One

Did something happen?? Do you need me to stab someone? ミ=͟͟͞͞(✿ʘ ᴗʘ)っ🗡

Yeesh, Toga needed to chill. In a way, he supposed, everyone who joined the League kind of needed to chill. Needing to chill was pretty much a requirement of joining. If Hawks really wanted to join the League, he was gonna have to get un-chill about a lot of things real quick. 

To: The Stabby One

no nothing happened keep ur flower on 

To: The Stabby One

just bored 

From: The Stabby One

Ohhh, Hawks isn’t there to entertain you? .。･:*:･(✿◕3◕)❤(◕ε◕✿)･:*:･。

From: The Stabby One

(That was supposed to be you two kissing bee tee dubs) 

To: The Stabby One

yeah got that

From: The Stabby One

Soooo… do you wanna talk about boys? (˵◕ ɛ ◕˵✿)

To: The Stabby One

no 

To: The Stabby One

bye

From: The Stabby One

Noooo!!! I’m sorry Dabi-kun come back!! ( ˃̣̣̥﹏˂̣̣̥ ✿)

To: The Stabby One

i have to take care of my egg

From: The Stabby One

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (✧⥐✧✿) SEND PICS PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!

To: The Stabby One

no

From: The Stabby One

(இ ‸ இ✿)

To: The Stabby One

[Attached image] 

From: The Stabby One

(இ ‸ இ✿)(இ ‸ இ✿)(இ ‸ இ✿)

Dabi sighed to himself. He wanted to say no just to be contrary, but at the same time… who else was he gonna show off his unhatched baby to? He quickly snapped a picture, but held off a few minutes before sending it. Can’t let Toga think he’s gotten too soft, ya know? He ignored the deluge of smiley-sparkly-flower-whatever emoticons she sent him in response when he finally hit send. The nice thing about sending the picture to Toga was that he didn’t have to worry about sending it to anyone else in the League, she would handle that in no time.

So it was back to being bored. He checked Omelet’s temperature with the fancy laser thermometer Hawks had gotten. He was a little on the cool side.

Dabi pulled Omelet into his arms and raised his own body temperature a bit. Not enough to combust, but just serving as a human heated blanket. He heated up too much apparently because it wasn’t moments later before his phone gave the signature chicken “Boc-ACK” that was his text tone for Hawks. 

From: Baby Mamma 🐔

Hey hot stuff, you better not soft-boil our baby

Dabi didn’t send a reply, but did put Omelet down. He’d just been trying to do the right thing. Why was this so hard? Ninety percent of egg-care was sitting around and checking the temperature. The other part was warming it up. It was like the microwave dinner of childcare. How was he messing it up? 

With a frustrated sigh, he adjusted the blankets and feather around Omelet and got up. He was alone in Hawks’ apartment. It was snooping time. 

He didn’t know when Hawks would be home and he had to check on Omelet every few minutes, so it was by no means his finest snooping job, but it was solid entertainment for a good hour and a half. 

First, he rummaged through Hawks’ drawers. Most of Hawks’ shirts were fitted V-necks, which came as no surprise. His jean drawer looked like it hadn’t been opened in a while, but was full of tailored dark wash jeans, and for some reason, indiscernible to Dabi, several capris. Why did Hawks own capris. His underwear drawer was fun! Mostly practical, but there were a few sexy numbers in there that conjured up some fun images. There were a few toys in there too, but much less than Dabi expected, just based on how Hawks was. Yeesh, the guy really didn’t have much free time. 

Dabi also found out that Hawks owned so many accessories. How many rings did he need? He only had ten fingers! He would probably make the lord of the rings, or whoever, jealous. Who even was the lord of the rings? Did he collect rings? What was his deal? Dabi had never seen that movie.

Dabi felt slightly disappointed that he didn’t find anything juicier. From just his apartment, one might think Hawks was boring. Which wasn’t true. (Objectively.) Maybe Hawks was just really good at hiding his secrets. He was about to wrap up his snooping adventure (snoopventure?) when something familiar caught his eye. Tucked between the nightstand and bed was… one of Dabi’s shirts? He’d been missing this! His wardrobe was what one might call ‘minimalist’ so when something goes missing, he notices. His first reaction was to be angry that Hawks had stolen from him (regardless of the fact that he stole from Hawks all the time. He probably had something like eight of Hawks’ shirts at this point). But no, Hawks, even if he wanted to be a villain, was still noble and wouldn’t resort to petty theft of Dabi’s ratty old shirts. The implications then, of Hawks keeping the shirt… Dabi shoved it back where it had been. He didn’t want to deal with that. If Hawks had a stupid crush on him, that was his dumbass’ problem. Dabi was a hardened criminal with no-- he glanced at Omelet-- very few feelings other than hate. He could do the associates-with-benefits thing without ‘catching feelings’ or whatever, no problem. Poor Hawks, getting attached. How embarrassing. 

Dabi definitely did not smile to himself as he returned Hawks’ belongings to their original positions. He most certainly did not do anything as ridiculous as hum as he set about checking on Omelet again (there were no witnesses. It didn’t happen. Wait, shit, did Omelet have ears? … Not that it mattered because he wasn’t humming). 

Omelet’s temperature was fine. The humidity was fine. He didn’t want to risk warming him up too much by cuddling him, but he also didn’t want to risk leaving him for too long to do anything productive. Huh. This is what Hawks had been dealing with for the past three weeks. 

Dabi was about to settle for staring off into space when he was struck by inspiration. He could see exactly what Omelet was doing, they still had the candling supplies! In no time, Omelet was set up on the light, tucked in with blankets and the curtains were drawn. There, against the golden red of the yolk was the tiny fetus. Dabi was honestly starstruck every time he saw it. Every time they candled him, Omelet had grown a little. He was now about the size of an apple and had a distinctly bean shaped silhouette. Right now, Omelet inside his egg could fit in Dabi’s hand. He could no longer see his heartbeat through the silhouette, but if he pressed his ear against the shell, he thought he might be hearing that fluttering pulse. That was his baby. 

Did Omelet have ears? That was an interesting thought. Dabi knew that sometimes people would put headphones against pregnant peoples’ bellies. He wondered if Omelet could hear him talking to him. Worth a shot!

“Hey,” Dabi started. Nice and casual. Good start. “So uh, you’re a baby.” That was less suave. “You’re my baby.” That was good. Parental. “I don’t know if you have ears yet--” Maybe that was a weird thing to say. Back it up. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but, uh… since I guess I’m gonna be raising you--” Too aloof. “Since I’m going to be your dad--” Commit, you coward. “Since I am your dad, I… think we should get to know each other? But I’m doing all the talking, so for now you’re only getting to know me.” Omelet knows that. Get to the point, yeesh. “I think you should know who I am. I…” Why was this so hard? This shouldn’t be this hard. Omelet might not even have ears. He probably couldn’t form memories. He didn’t understand language, there was no way he was going to...what? What was Dabi afraid of? That Omelet, a literal fetus was going to judge him? …Yeah. Or more, he was afraid that this would be the start of Omelet growing up to judge him. That Dabi would let himself be soft for someone and that he would grow up to hate him-- But Omelet needed to know. Dabi wanted to protect him from everything, make it so he never had to be afraid. And that started with letting him know the truth. 

“You should know who I am,” Dabi started again. “I am… not a good person. Hell, I’m barely even a person at all at this point. Really, if anything, I’d consider myself a weapon, since my purpose for most of my life was to destroy things-- people. But, um. I don’t think weapons make good dads. ‘Cause weapons are made to… hurt things-- people. And dads should… dads should be made to… to love you. Yeah.” Dabi passed a hand over his face. God, this was hard. “So, uh, I’m just letting you know that I’ll probably-- definitely-- make some mistakes. God, I’m gonna mess up so bad. I hope I don’t mess you up. You, uh, I don’t know you yet, but I know that you deserve a better dad then I’m going to be. But life’s not fair, so buck up, Omelet, I’m what you got, deal with it.” No, that’s not what he wanted to say. See, he was messing this up too. “No, I don’t mean that. I mean, I do, I’m what you got, but what I mean is… I’m gonna try to be the dad you deserve. I’m letting you know now that I am never going to get there, but it’s not because I’m not trying. I’m definitely going to be trying because I’ve gotta beat my old man at being a dad. I wish I were good at talking about feelings shit -- shit-- I mean, crap, I mean-- ugh. I shouldn’t swear around a baby. What I was trying to say is that I wish it were easy to say how I feel. It’s not. I hate this. But I don’t hate you! I promise, Omelet, I don’t hate you. I…” He should say it. Even if he wasn’t sure if he was capable, he should at least practice so that when… if he did finally feel it, he could be better at saying it. He took a deep breath. He opened his mouth. He prepared to announce that… nothing came out. It was something monumental, something too big to be said out loud, even as practice. It felt like as soon as he said it, he would burst apart, like his sutures couldn’t hold him together. But he had to. Omelet would not grow up without hearing these words from him. He would whisper it for now until he felt sure that his world wouldn’t fall apart from the uttering of a few syllables.

Dabi took a deep breath again. He leaned forward. He pressed his ear against Omelet’s shell. He couldn’t be sure, but he chose to believe he heard the faint fluttering of his heartbeat. Something about it was deeply comforting. It made his chest feel warm and his head feel light and… it made him almost feel… 

He pressed his lips against Omelet’s shell. It was barely a breath but it was everything. Dabi whispered, “I love you.”      

Chapter Text

Talking with Omelet was kind of nice. Unlike literally everyone else, he didn’t say anything in response, which, in Dabi’s opinion, was the best way to have a conversation. There was just something about the one-sidedness of it. It was like having a therapist, except the therapist was an egg that was also his fetal son that was also incapable of responding. But at least now Dabi knew: if he wanted to talk about anything, all he had to do was pull an egg out of the fridge and voila! It might sound pathetic (it definitely was pathetic) but it was genius! 

After whispering those very important words to Omelet, he felt freer. Words flowed easier. He found himself telling Omelet some of the details about his family (the kid had a right to know about his aunt and uncles, ya know?) but not too much. He had a reputation to maintain, ya know? He briefly talked about how much Endeavor sucked and that Omelet was not to listen to Hawks’ opinions about the man. Then he circled around to a topic that had been consuming his thoughts recently.
“I dunno what we’re gonna name you, Omelet.” He ran a hand along Omelet’s shell. “I think Omelet works just fine. I hope you know that no matter what name we give you on paper, you’re always gonna be Omelet to me. That’s a promise. That’s a promise I can keep.” 

Omelet, of course, did not respond. 

“Don’t sass me, young man,” Dabi scolded. “I’m gonna give you the best name ever, don’t test me. But I’m gonna call you Omelet.”

Because after all, his baby (his baby!) deserved the best in everything, and that included a name. He’d been searching those baby name websites and looking for ideas on mommy blogs, but most names didn’t feel right. There were literally so many names in the world, how was he supposed to know which one was the right one for his baby? He knew this wasn’t one of those cases with only one right answer, but it sort of felt that way. How did people name babies. After themselves?

“Hey Omelet, do you wanna be named after me?” Omelet did not respond. “Like obviously not ‘Dabi,’ I mean my old name. I kinda stopped using it, but maybe you’ll have a better time with it.” On one hand, it could be a curse giving his baby his old name. But on the other hand, it would almost feel like a promise, to give Omelet the life Dabi never lived. “I think it would be too on the nose to call you ‘Touya,’ huh? I guess I could just give you one of the characters. Maybe Hawks could give you the other and we raise you to have the life we both wanted?” 

Whoa, that was really cheesy. 

“How about just the ‘tou?’ Or ‘hi’ I guess.” Dabi suggested. He thought 灯 would be a good character for Omelet’s actual name. “Hisei?” Maybe. When Hawks got back they could have a serious conversation about names. It felt maybe kind of important that Dabi give Omelet a part of his past, but he chose not to examine that thought too closely. He’d had enough with actually experiencing feelings like some sort of human for one day. 

When Hawks got home, they did not have a serious discussion about names. This was primarily due to the fact that it was past eleven at night and Dabi had begun to wonder if Hawks had ditched him, leaving him a single father. 

Hawks looked exhausted when he slumped through the bedroom door. A small army of feathers carrying bags followed him in, seeming weary as well. Hawks looked a mess, but a different mess than usual. He appeared to be covered in glitter, he was sporting what looked to be the beginnings of a shiner, his shirt sleeve was torn, and he might’ve been wearing lipstick. 

“Oh, Omelet, my baby, I missed you!” He cried, pulling the egg into an embrace. He looked up and almost seemed surprised when he noticed Dabi. “Oh! You’re still here.”
“And feeling real welcome,” Dabi snarked. 

“Thanks for babysitting,” Hawks said.

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s called ‘parenting.’” 

Hawks gasped. “You had character development!”

“Excuse me?” Dabi had somehow forgotten how irritating Hawks was. He was so caught up in his joy about Omelet that his memory of Hawks was corrupted by… eugh, fondness. That was a mistake he wouldn’t be making again. “Are you drunk?”

“Unfortunately not,” Hawks huffed. “Rumi is.”

“Rumi?” Did Dabi know a ‘Rumi?’

“Miruko,” Hawks clarified. “Bunny hero? My best friend? My main ho? Lady I went shopping with today? Thinks you’re, quote, a ‘nogoodnik?’”

“Oh yeah, her.” He considered what chain of events could have led to Hawks’ state of disarray. “Did they sell… liquor at the baby store?” That would actually be a brilliant model. Sell tired parents alcohol. Contribute to alcoholism culture. Add a new meaning to the phrase ‘wine mom.’ Enable deadbeat alcoholic dads. Dabi chose the wrong route, he should have started up on that business model. 

“What? No. We went out for drinks. Rumi-- Miruko was paying,” Hawks explained.

“So I’m still missing the part where you’re not drunk.” If Bunny Lady was paying, why didn’t Hawks cash in on that?

“I have to come home and take care of Omelet?” Hawks said as if that should be obvious. Dabi was here, so he didn’t really see why that was necessary, but whatever. “So anyway, I let her get us a few drinks, then I say I should probably head home, she says ‘okay,’ she starts flirting with this gorgeous lady who seemed like hella into her, but then it turns out gorgeous lady had a boyfriend who looked like he probably had some giant muscle quirk or something, he had a fist for a face and I mean that literally. Well, when he was talking, he did a sort of baby shark--” Hawks demonstrated making his hand talk like those creepy hand puppets from that one kid show. Oobi? Something like that. “But when he was fighting his face was a literal fist. So anyway, Fist Face starts yelling at Rumi for flirting with his girl, Rumi challenges him to a drinking contest. Rumi can handle her drink, so my money’s on her. But Fist Face is also really good. They’re going shot-for-shot and everyone’s watching now, right? And then the weirdest thing happened, ‘kay? Fist Face is apparently a super sad drunk and they take a breather and he starts crying (somehow with his hand face) about how he still loves Gorgeous Lady and that he was sorry he seemed more distant lately. He was picking up (ha, get it ‘cause of the hand?) hours at work so he could save more money. And why did he want to save money? Because he wanted to buy Gorgeous Lady a ring and propose! So now people start feeling kind of bad for Fist Face, right? Like he’s obviously in love with Gorgeous Lady, and here she is, letting herself be chatted up by other people. Granted, maybe their relationship has other issues that we don’t know about, but from what we know now, the story now makes you feel bad for Fist Face. The guy has a fist for a face, you figure that it’s hard for him to get an attractive date, you know? He’s probably desperate to keep her. But it’s like move on dude, she clearly is only staying with you because you’re desperate enough to get her things. Listen, listen dude. I’ve been that lady. I know what it’s like to only stay with someone because they’re buying you pearls. So then Rumi is also like ‘hey lady don’t lead this poor dude on,’ I mean he had a fist for a face! And okay, okay, okay, okay, you know what happens next?” 

Dabi blinked. “And you said you’re not drunk?”

“I’m mostly almost not drunk,” said Hawks. “But guess what happens next.”

“I’m guessing something that involves lipstick and glitter?” Dabi said. 

“Huh?” Hawks rubbed at his lips and squinted at his now red hand. “Huh. Forgot about that. Anyway! It turns out Gorgeous Lady has a hell of a quirk of her own. She started growing and her dress ripped, but it wasn’t sexy or anything, she just...wow. She went full Lord of the Rings cave troll.” Dabi still hadn’t seen that movie. “And she started fighting Rumi! And look, dude, dude, I’m the...I’m the number 2 hero, I gotta save my friend from cave trolls. So I jump in there and next thing I know it’s a whole bar fight. I think someone had a makeover quirk. So finally I drag Rumi out of there and make her go home, and I’m back too. So you can leave now, I’ll watch Omelet.” 

Yeah, no. If Hawks thought Dabi was gonna let his tipsy ass be solely responsible for Omelet tonight, he was wrong. 

“Mm, yeah I don’t think so,” Dabi drawled.

“Whaaat, why?” Hawks whined.

“Because,” said Dabi, standing. “You’re tipsy and exhausted and I don’t trust you not to sleep through egg duty.” He went about, opening Hawks’ drawers (which he was now better acquainted with) and pulling out soft clothes. He dumped the haul into Hawks arms and steered him into the bathroom. “You take a shower and sleep. I will watch Omelet.” 

Hawks turned to protest. “But--!” Dabi slammed the door in his face. 

Honestly ridiculous. Why was Hawks like this? Was it some side effect from being a ‘hero’ his whole life? Was he incapable of just not doing things? Dabi was really starting to understand why Hawks was turning to villainy. Villains had so much free time. There was no schedule to fulfill, it was just do whatever whenever unless it was a specific mission or plan. Dabi bet heroes didn’t have a game night. 

Several minutes later, Hawks emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. His skin was flushed pink and somehow Dabi had picked Hawks’ loosest clothes. He looked… well Dabi would say ‘cute’ if he used that word. Which he didn’t.  He purposely avoided using it. Hawks yawned widely. It wasn’t cute, shut up. Dabi wanted to punch himself in the face.

Hawks shuffled into bed. “Are you sure you can watch Omelet longer?”

“Haven’t managed to kill him yet,” Dabi snarked. “I can handle it.”

“Mkay…” Hawks agreed, sounding reluctant. “Wake me up if you need help. ‘M gonna set my alarm for 2:30. Then I can take over Omelet duty and you can do… whatever you usually do.”

Dabi grunted in agreement. He flipped the lights off for Hawks’ benefit before returning to the nest. Inwardly, he doubted Hawks would be good on just threeish hours of sleep, but who was he to tell him what to do. 

The night was peaceful. Dabi had always thought so. But then, maybe monsters were supposed to like the night. 

Hawks fell asleep quickly, if his quiet snoring was anything to go by. His wings curled around him like an extra blanket. It wasn’t -- okay, you know what? Screw it. It was cute as hell. Apparently today was just a day of Dabi breaking his own rules. Becoming a dad was like some sort of gateway drug to experiencing emotions. 

But wait, watching people sleep was creepy right? Watching Hawks sleep had nothing to do with emotion. Dabi was watching Hawks sleep to be creepy because he was a creepy guy. That was his story and he was sticking with it. You know what was creepier than watching people in their sleep? Petting people’s hair in their sleep. So Dabi did. He reached forward and gently ran his fingers through Hawks’ damp hair. It probably would have felt better if it were dry. Oh well. It was worth a shot. Dabi was pulling his hand away when Hawks shifted in his sleep and caught it against his own hand. Dabi’s heart stopped. Should he move his hand? Should he just let Hawks do whatever? He was sleeping, so it wasn’t like it meant anything. Or rather, Hawks couldn’t mean anything by it. It probably meant something if Dabi let him hold his hand in his sleep. Whatever. He interlaced their fingers. There were no witnesses. 

“...it’s reawakened a part of you that you forgot you even had. The part that longs for a ‘normal life.’” Toga’s voice echoed through his head. He was gonna have to go burn her hair off for making him think about this. Damn it, this was really domestic. And double damn it, Dabi… he couldn’t believe he was thinking this, he liked it. Things would be easier if he could go back in time to when he didn’t care about anyone or anything. Now he had to put effort into pretending not to care. It was irritating and exhausting. But there was nobody else here who could see him. Hawks was asleep, Omelet was an egg. If Dabi was lying, he was only lying to himself and that was just a stupid thing to do. So what if he enjoyed the idea of a domestic life? Sue him. So long as he didn’t do anything really stupid like get a crush or something on Hawks, it would be fine. 

At 2:30 in the morning, Hawks’ alarm went off. Dabi glanced at Hawks’ face, relaxed in sleep, drool seeping out the corner of his slightly open mouth. 

Hm, I’ll be a penguin tonight, Dabi thought. 

He reached over and turned off the alarm. 

Dabi hurried to the bar. Toga had texted him with uncharacteristic seriousness. 

From: The Stabby One

Bar. Come quick. Emergency

He wondered what had happened. Had they been attacked? Found out? Had someone been killed? Certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Or was it good news? Were they launching an attack soon? Not that Dabi would be participating in any attacks… 

He threw the door open, expecting to interrupt a meeting or battle in progress. Instead he was greeted with… a dark empty bar? 

He stepped in cautiously. The door slammed behind him. Something wasn’t right… he was being watched. 

“SURPRISE!!” People jumped out from hiding, the lights flickered to life. Dabi nearly burst into flame. He was glad he was too surprised to do anything embarrassing like scream. He blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the new light. 

The bar… was decorated for a party. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling and a few balloons sat around on the ground. Over the bar, a hand-written banner read “Congradtulations!!!” 

Behind the bar, Kurogiri was closing one of his warp gates that the League had presumably been hiding through. 

“What… is this?” Dabi asked, thoroughly confused. “Where’s the emergency?”

Toga laughed. “That was just to get you here!” She tossed a balloon at him.

Dabi batted the balloon aside absently. “But what is ‘here?’” 

The balloon bonked Shigaraki in the head. He didn’t look up from his video game, merely reaching out and disintegrating it. 

“Don’t be a party pooper,” Kurogiri scolded him gently. To Dabi he said, “It’s your baby shower!” 

“My…” Dabi glanced around the bar. At his fellow Leaguers (mostly) wearing party hats (Toga was trying to sneak a hat onto Shigaraki, but had yet to succeed. Kurogiri might’ve been wearing a hat. It was hard to tell). At the remaining seven balloons. At the misspelled banner. “...Baby shower…” 

“Thaaaat’s right!” Twice sang. “Who said anything about a baby shower?!” 

“We thought it might be nice,” Spinner said, a bit sheepishly. 

Dabi felt like his mind was going at a snail’s pace. “Okay… but why?”

“Because you’re having a baby, duh~!” Toga said, sticking her tongue out. Quick as lightning, she stuck a hat on Shigaraki and leaped out of range. He disintegrated that as well, but Toga seemed undeterred, pulling out another hat. 

Dabi sputtered. “I’m not pregnant!”

Shigaraki started coughing. It was unclear if that was to disguise a laugh or because the dust of his former party hat got into his mouth. 

“Kinda surprising really,” Toga commented. “I thought for sure you were a bottom.”

Dabi caught on fire. “What--”

“We know that,” Kurogiri cut in. “That’s why it’s egg themed.” 

“We made cascarones!” Mr. Compress said, turning a handful of marbles into colorful eggs with a snap. 

“Yeah!” Twice called. He grabbed one of the eggs and smashed it over Spinner’s head. Instead of exploding into confetti and glitter, it simply covered Spinner in yolk. For his part, Spinner didn’t even look angry, just resigned. 

“Oops,” Compress commented. “I guess those were the egg roll eggs…” He decompressed another handful of marbles, and shook one of the resulting eggs. “These are the cascarones!” 

“Which brings us to the first item on this party’s agenda,” Toga said, grabbing the eggs and distributing them.

“And that is…?” Dabi asked, holding out his hand expectantly. His eyes widened when he realized Toga was making no move to hand him one. 

“This!” Toga cried, launching a cascarón at Dabi. 

Dabi yelped embarrassingly as he came under siege by glitter and confetti. He smacked out blinding, hoping to volley at least one of the eggs back at his attackers. Memories of childhood waterballoon and snowball fights surfaced and he couldn’t help but grin. He had three siblings; he knew how to deal with this. Contrary to popular belief, the best way to win against a siege was to run straight into it. He held up one arm to guard his face and raced forward. Toga shrieked in surprise when Dabi grabbed her around the middle and lifted her up.

“I have a hostage!” Dabi announced, using Toga as a meat shield. 

Spinner immediately stood down, but Compress just laughed.

“You think we won’t take her out too?” He decompressed another batch of cascarones. “If she’s collateral damage, that just sweetens the pot!” 

“Bonus points,” Shigaraki agreed, accepting an egg and launching it weakly. It smacked Spinner.
“Oh come on!” Spinner yelled. “That’s it! I have had it! I’m going rogue!” He grabbed all the unclaimed cascarones, barricading himself behind the bar. He launched egg after egg at everyone else. 

(Dabi mentally made two lists for future reference:

Shigaraki will not look up from video games when smacked in the face with:

• Balloons
• Party Hats
• Tea cups (don’t ask)
• Tiny moose figurines (Dabi could not emphasize this enough: do not ask)

Shigaraki will look up from video games when smacked in the face with:

• Cascarones 

More research was necessary to expand both lists)

Dabi was very pleased by the efficacy of his strategy. Toga was light enough that he could haul her into the line of fire, no matter where it was coming from. 

“I’ll save you Toga-chan!” Twice called. He grabbed onto her ankles. 

Dabi tightened his grip around her middle and it became a tug-o-war. A Toga-war? 

“Hey!” Dabi protested. “Get your own meatshield!” 

“FOR STAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!” Spinner gave a mighty battle cry. He was wearing a wok over his head like a helmet and had a large bucket of just glitter and confetti, apparently forgoing the whole egg-thing. Holding the bucket up in the air, he spun around quickly, showering everyone in its contents. 

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Compress complained.

“I’ve gone rogue!” Spinner shrieked. “The rules don’t apply to me!” 

“Well in that case…” Compress took one of the non-cascarón eggs and threw it at Spinner.

“W-wait! No!” He used his wok as a shield. “You’re supposed to follow the rules still!”
“Villain,” Compress reminded him in response. 

Spinner nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’ Then he called, “NO, WAIT, FOR REAL!”

“What?” Compress asked, not letting up on his egg attack. 

“Where did Kurogiri go?!” Spinner said.

That was enough to give the fight pause. The Leaguers looked around for their nebulous companion. 

“Oh no,” Toga gasped. “Look up.”

Everyone looked above their heads just on time to receive facefulls of… flour?...Pouring out of tiny warp gates.

Kurogiri reappeared, dusting his hands off. “I think it’s safe to say I won that round.”

Dabi let go of Toga (which would have been okay, except Twice was still holding her ankles. Her top half landed on the ground with a thunk). “That’s not fair!” He complained. “This is my babyshower! Or, egg shower I guess…”

Toga giggled where she lay on the ground. “Well you got a literal egg shower…” Dabi stepped (lightly) on her face. 

“Life isn’t fair,” Kurogiri commented airily. “And it doesn’t really matter who won and who lost, except that I won and you all lost. Anyway!” He clapped his hands together. “Shall we move to the next game?”

Toga removed Dabi’s foot from her face. “Love to! Compress and Spinner-kun used all the normal eggs though.” 

Kurogiri turned to the guilty, egg covered parties. “Oh? Is that true?”

Spinner dropped the wok to point an accusing finger at Compress. “He started it!”

Kurogiri put his hands on his hips. “Mr. Compress?” He prompted. 

Compress shrugged. “Guess I have… egg on my face. Huh? Huh? Get it?”

There was a collective groan. 

“Since the supplies for our other games have been carelessly squandered,” Kurogiri shot a disappointed look at Spinner and Compress. (Spinner crossed his arms and muttered, “My cause was just.”) “Shall we finish with the games and move on to a different item? What’s next, Toga?”

Toga rolled across the floor, apparently refusing to stand up. She groped around the tabletop until she found a piece of paper. “Next is cake and names!” She read. 

“Ah yes, the cake,” Mr. Compress said with a chuckle, pulling out a marble.

“For the record!” Spinner announced loudly. “I tried to talk them out of it--” 

Toga tsked. “You planted the idea in our heads. You know how dangerous that is.”
“Yeah, it’s way too funny!” Twice said. “It’s stupid.”

“But then I tried to talk you out of it--” Spinner protested. 

“Hurry up, I want cake,” Shigaraki complained. 

“And I want to see if I have just cause to murder Spinner,” Dabi drawled. 

“You do,” Toga said, giggling.
“Oh yeah, definitely,” Mr. Compress said. 

Kurogiri just shrugged. 

Oh this was going to be good. “Decompress the cake,” said Dabi. 

“As you wish,” Compress said with a flourish. 

On the table appeared a large cake. It was frosted sloppily, half with a bright blue frosting, half with white as if they had run out of one color of frosting. Malt egg candies were scattered around the perimeter of the cake and sugar hearts were pressed into the frosting at random intervals. From where he was standing, Dabi couldn’t read what was written on it. This was partially due to the bad angle, partially due to Dabi’s less than stellar vision, and partially due to the obviously horrendous handwriting. 

“Do you like it?” Toga prompted. “Kurogiri baked it, Twice and I frosted it, and Spinner came up with the message! Shigaraki-kun was there too but he just ate all the extra malt egg candies…” 

Dabi leaned forward to read the cake. 

DaBI? More like

  DaDDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   

The exclamation points were presumably to make up for the fact that “Daddy” was way off-center. 

“Hm.” Dabi grunted. 

Spinner seemed prepared to prostrate himself in apology. “Y-you can have my piece. I-if you want--” 

Then the weirdest shit happened. Dabi felt something bubble up in his throat. A light feeling. A single noise escaped him. It could have been mistaken for a cough except that it was followed by another. And then another. And then Dabi was laughing. Guffawing, even. It was different from his derisive chuckle, or rare amused huff at Toga or Hawks’ antics. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had just… laughed. But now that he’d started he couldn’t stop. Even when he thought he was about to get control of himself after a moment, he looked at the stunned-- absolutely BAFFLED-- expressions of the League and started up laughing again. He couldn’t cry, but he was sure if he could, there would be tears of laughter streaming down his face. He felt like one of those stupid emojis Toga sometimes used. He caught his breath and was about to return to his normal self when he caught sight of the cake again and doubled over in laughter. It hurt his sides, it hurt his chest, it hurt his face and yet somehow it felt amazing. In the moment, he might have ranked it better than sex, but upon further reflection, he would put it as a close second to sex.

Nervously, Spinner spoke up, “I can’t tell if this is a happy laugh or a murderous cackle.”

“I think,” Toga said in awe. “It’s a happy laugh.”

Dabi caught his breath. “It’s a ‘you guys are annoying idiots’ laugh.”

“Oho, didn’t know you liked being called ‘Daddy,’ so much,” Compress commented. “Does Hawks know?” 

“Shaddup,” Dabi told him, without much bite. A buzzy… happy?... feeling in his chest made it hard to feel mad. 

Toga waved her hand. “Can I cut the cake?! I brought a really good knife!” She brandished what looked more like a meat cleaver than a knife. 

Dabi shrugged, “Sure. Just don’t destroy it.”

A look of murderous glee crossed Toga’s face. Bringing her veritable axe down, she sliced the cake in two, then four, and then twice more into eighths. The precision was… impressive. 

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Well done.”

Toga took a bow. “I’m good with knives.”

Kurogiri served out the slices of cake, leaving one piece. 

Shigaraki eyed it. “There’s an extra slice,” he commented. 

“It’s for the other dad-to-be, not you,” Kurogiri said. To Dabi he said, “Bring it to Hawks. Do not eat it yourself.” 

“Sure whatever. I bet it’s nasty, anyway.” He took a forkful. It was rich and moist. It was heavily frosted. It was probably diabetes on a plate. It was also very good in that ‘made for a 7 year old’s sweet tooth’ sort of way. Hawks would love it for sure. 

“If you don’t like it, I’ll eat your piece,” Shigaraki muttered. Somehow, Toga had gotten a party hat onto his head. He hadn’t seemed to notice. 

Toga clapped several times for everyone’s attention. “Now that we all have cake, it’s time for the most exciting part! Names!”

“What makes you think I want your name ideas?” Dabi drawled. In truth, he was relieved at the idea of having some outside ideas. Luckily, the League ignored his surliness.  

“Me first, me first!” Twice said. “I don’t have any ideas. Yes I do!” 

“I’m curious,” Dabi said, trying to be nonchalant. “Let’s hear them.”
“Alright!” Twice cheered. “Your baby is hatching from an egg, so I thought some bird-like names would be appropriate --Do not name your kid a bird name-- like Jay! Or Gulliver!” 

Dabi should have known better. This wasn’t going to be helpful at all. “No.” 

Twice slumped over in disappointment. Toga patted his shoulder. 

“What about Hayabusa?” Toga suggested. “Or Tobi? Those are both birds, and good names!” 

Those were considerably better, Dabi supposed, but… “We’re just assuming this kid is gonna be bird-like?”
Toga shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Does anyone have any non- bird related names?” Dabi asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“As a matter of fact,” Kurogiri said, “I do.” 

“Do tell.” Dabi had higher expectations for Kurogiri’s suggestions. 

“I have two. If it’s a girl, I think Nyoko would be lovely. After all, children are gifts to be treasured,” Kurogiri said. Behind him, Shigaraki mimed gagging and Mr. Compress sniggered. Kurogiri continued. “For a boy, I think Hiroki would be a name that would serve him well.” 

“Those are sappy-ass names,” Dabi deadpanned. Sappy as they were, they were good names… he mentally jotted them down. 

“Maybe so,” Kurogiri agreed. “But you, in your own way, are a ‘sappy-ass’ man.” 

“I’m a what--” Dabi had never been accused of being sappy in his life. He was many things. Scary, brutal, powerful, and he even fancied himself funny in a sarcastic way, but to be accused of being… being sentimental. Schmaltzy! Dabi would have chosen another flour shower over this attack. “That is factually incorrect.”
“Hmmmm, I don’t know about that,” Compress hummed. 

“You got something to say, Mr. Mime?” Dabi growled. Mr. Mime was a pokemon… An ugly pokemon. That wasn’t exactly the insult he’d intended, but he was sticking with it. 

“Oh, it’s just that in the past month or so, you’ve been… how do you say…” Compress trailed off. 

“In your own head more?” Spinner offered. 

Twice giggled, “Space cadet!” 

“You’ve been more prone to making almost-pleasant expressions and talking about nice things,” Kurogiri said diplomatically. 

“And I, Dr. Toga,” Toga said, standing on the table. “Have a diagnosis.”
Dabi didn’t need to fake his nonplussed face, but he put extra care into also looking mildly pissed off. “Give it to me straight, doctor,” he deadpanned. 

“You, Dabi-kun,” she pointed in his face. “Are afflicted with a bad case of the Love Bug~!” 

“Never say those two words together like that ever again.” Dabi wrinkled his nose. “What the hell.” 

Toga shrugged, “Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong. But Hawks has you whiiiiiipped…”  

“I think you’ve got that the wrong way around,” Dabi said, narrowing his eyes.

Mr. Compress cleared his throat. “For my next trick, I will be doing an impression. ‘Hawks said I can’t kill people,’ ‘I gotta go cook dinner for Hawks,’ ‘I can’t come to the meeting today, Hawks wants to go shopping and I’ve got to watch our baby,’ ‘I have to take a trip to space, Hawks said he wanted the moon--’”

Toga and Twice waved their hands in the air wildly.
“I know, I know!” Twice called like an excited child. “It’s Mickey Mouse,” he said sarcastically. 

“Pick me!” Called Toga.

“Hm, yes, the young lady with the blonde buns?” Mr. Compress pointed to her. 

She cheered. “You’re Dabi-kun!” 

“Well done!” Compress congratulated her. 

Dabi shoveled cake into his mouth and crossed his arms. “Can we just get back to names?”

“You’ll be a fan of this one,” Compress said smugly. “Kotaka.”

Kotaka. ‘Little Hawk.’ 

“Hm,” Dabi hummed. “Yeah thanks for the party, I’m leaving.”

“Not so fast,” Kurogiri chided. “If you leave the party early, you don’t get the gifts.”

Gifts? That gave Dabi pause. “Like… actual gifts?”

Kurogiri nodded. “Actual gifts. Useful gifts, in fact.”

Dabi considered for a moment. Then he shrugged, sitting back down. If nothing else, he was curious what the League would consider ‘actual gifts.’ “What else do I gotta sit through? Everyone else’s name suggestions? Then what?”

Toga consulted her list. “Then is pictures!”

Dabi groaned. “Pictures? Why? Shouldn’t we have done those before the eggs and glitter and flour?” 

“They’re fun!” Toga said, and did not acknowledge her poor planning.

“Plus, well…” Compress began. “As villains, we’re in a pretty high-risk profession.” 

 “If anything happens to any of us, we thought it’d be nice if baby Omelet had something to know us by,” Kurogiri finished solemnly. 

Well damn if that wasn’t a downer. Dabi scoffed to cover the odd feeling rising in his chest. “If Omelet meets you once I’m sure it’s going to be a scarring enough memory to last a lifetime. And I suspect you’ll meet more than that.” A heavy feeling still hovered over them. Well! Time to avoid that! “What other names you got?”

“I have a good one!” Toga said. “Not necessarily bird-related. Just kind of a mix between you and Hawks.”
A mix between him and Hawks had sort of been what Dabi had been thinking as the name anyway… 

“Alright,” he said cautiously. 

Toga smiled. “Atsuhane, as in ‘hot wings.’”

“That’s a little unsubtle, don’t you think?” Dabi commented.

Toga shrugged. “Worth a shot. I thought it was clever.”

“If you want to be clever about it,” Shigaraki startled them all by speaking up again, “You should go with ‘Hotaru.’”

Hotaru. ‘Firefly.’ Fire. Fly. Dabi was angry that he actually liked it. 

Rather than admitting to Shigaraki that he liked his suggestion Dabi went with, “Are you aware that you’re wearing a party hat?”

Shigaraki shrugged and did nothing to remove it. Dabi smirked. He must actually like it then. 

“Any more name suggestions, smartass or otherwise?” Dabi asked.  

“I have one,” Spinner said. “Not sure what you’ll think, but um--”

“Just spit it out.”

“I think Akaguro as in ‘red’ and ‘black’ would be a good name. S-since you have black hair and Hawks has red wings,” Spinner said, sounding almost on edge. 

Akaguro… Well Spinner wasn’t exactly right about the hair color, but black and red did suit the aesthetic. Akaguro. That sounded familiar. Why did it sound familiar.

“Aka… Spinner!” Toga said scoldingly. 

Kurogiri cleared his throat. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that… Stain’s name?”   

Spinner sputtered defensively. “It’s a good name! And I was serious about it being a good fit--”

“You were going to trick me into naming my kid after Stain?” Dabi growled. 

“Inspire! I was going to inspire you to name your kid after Stain!” Spinner protested. 

“Unbelievable,” Dabi muttered. “Last call for names! After this, if anyone tries to come to me with name ideas, that is how I will refer to you exclusively for the rest of time.”

When nobody spoke up, Toga clapped her hands. Her eyes were sparkling. “It’s time for pictures!”

Pictures were a whole ordeal. Toga held a massive Polaroid camera, posing people together, snapping several shots and then adjusting. First, everyone got several individual pictures. Then Dabi had to be in a picture with everyone individually. Then everyone had to be in a picture without Dabi. Then everyone had to be in a picture with Dabi. Then Toga wanted what she called ‘candids’ which were definitely staged and would have been better described as ‘chaoses.’ Then someone (Mr. Compress) had the idea of adding props and that started a whole new round. (The tiny moose figurine made a reappearance.) By the end, Dabi felt like flour was the least strange thing he’d had to wear that day. 

Toga fanned the most recent picture. She squinted at the image as it appeared. Apparently deeming it satisfactory, she placed it on top of the 6” tall pile of polaroids. 

“Okay!” She announced. “I think that does it for pictures!”

“Finally,” Dabi groaned. “Now give me gifts.” 

Compress tsked. “Dabi, Dabi, Dabi. Don’t you know? The real gift is the friends you made along the way.”

“Are you serious? I was promised actual gifts--” Dabi fumed.

“Calm down, the real gifts are right here.” Kurogiri pulled an armful of wrapped boxes and bags through a warp gate. 

“Open Spinner’s first!” Toga said, grabbing a brown paper bag from the pile and shoving it towards Dabi.

Dabi squinted at it. “Do I dare?”

“I think it’s a wonderful gift for Omelet,” Toga giggled. 

Without ceremony, Dabi reached into the bag and pulled out… he should have seen this coming. It was a Stain plushie. He refused to laugh for the second time in one day, but it was a close call.
“Really?” He asked. 

Spinner crossed his arms. “Hey, Omelet needs a good role model.” 

Fair enough, Dabi thought. 

“Mine next, mine next!” Toga pointed to the largest box from the pile.

Dabi peeled away the bright red wrapping paper and peeked into the box. There was a lot in it. On top were several… tangled balls of yarn? He pulled one out and realized it was probably supposed to be a baby hat.

“I made everyone crochet baby hats!” Toga said. “Except nobody was good at it. I made the blue one. You can tell because it’s the best.” That wasn’t saying much , Dabi thought in amusement. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to crochet,” he said. 

“I learned so I could make dolls,” Toga explained. “So that I could stab them. I also learned how to make amigurumi knives. There’s one in there!” 

Indeed, Dabi pulled out a large crocheted knife complete with red yarn on the tip of the blade and a cute smiling face near the handle. 

“I see,” he said simply. 

“When baby Omie gets older, I have some real knives to gift!” Toga said. “Jin-kun, you go next!”

“I have coupons!” Twice announced. “Not store coupons. Coupons to duplicate baby supplies. Like diapers. But only clean diapers!” 

That was actually useful. And very thoughtful. “Oh. Thanks.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. He was prepared to make a snarky remark. Genuine gratitude would take more preparation. 

Twice just nodded and gave a thumbs up. 

“Mine is in the same vein,” said Mr. Compress. He took out a marble and decompressed it. He held out the resulting bag to Dabi. Inside, there were baggies of compressed marbles. “It’s all supplies. It’s probably the most efficient diaper bag out there. You can decompress the marbles by breaking them, and the supplies are sorted into bags.” 

Dabi was impressed. These were actual gifts. “Thanks,” he said quietly. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed. 

“I suppose that leaves me,” Kurogiri said. He didn’t have anything wrapped, just bags. “First is a sling. This one is good because it allows for skin-to-skin. That’s very important. Skin-to-skin helps babies feel calm and releases hormones in their brains that helps them grow.”

“Thanks, mommy blog,” Dabi snorted. He knew skin-to-skin was important. He’d read it on a mommy blog. 

“I also saw this and couldn’t resist.” Kurogiri held up a little baby suit, complete with a vest and tie, uncannily similar to Kurogiri’s own getup. “I want pictures.”

“What if Omelet’s a girl?” Dabi said.

“I’m sure she’ll look dashing in a suit,” Kurogiri said calmly.  

Dabi couldn’t argue with that. 

“I believe that’s everything,” Kurogiri said. “You are free to go.”
“Wait!” Toga said. “Shigaraki-kun made a gift too! I helped.” She held out a very small plain box. Shigaraki made something? For Dabi’s baby? He was going to trust it because Toga apparently had say in it, but that didn’t stop him from opening the box like it was going to explode.

It didn’t explode. Inside was… a pacifier. Dabi pulled it out to admire it. The part that went into the baby’s mouth looked like a normal pacifier. The outside was decorated to look like one of Shigaraki’s hands. Like the ones that grabbed his face and stuff. As kind of weird as that was, he was impressed by the care and craftsmanship put into it. It looked like it was made of a lightweight clay? It was pretty detailed too, down to the wrinkles on the finger knuckles. This was something he’d put effort into. (It was this fact that kept Dabi from making a jab about Shigaraki gifting a pacifier from his own collection.)

“This is weird as hell,” Dabi said. “But uh… it’s well done. And creative.” Dabi prepared himself for what he was about to say. “Thank you.” 

Shigaraki didn’t even spare him a glance. “Okay, leave now.” 

Typical, Dabi thought. 

He had quite a load to carry back to Hawks’ apartment, but he managed with a couple of bags. The buzzy light feeling in his chest was still there, like bees were making honey in his heart (weird analogy. Decidedly weird analogy. Dabi would not be using that one again). He’d gotten the worst of the confetti and flour off of him for pictures, but the glitter was there to stay. You know what they say, glitter is… something about herpes or something. But despite being covered in glitter, something in him felt loosened. He could still taste the sugar from the cake. The sun had sunk below the horizon but the sky wasn’t dark enough yet for the stars to come out or for street lamps to come on, but too dark for a passerby (if there were any) to see the gentle upward tilt of Dabi’s lips. 

That, he thought, was the first party anyone has ever thrown for me.  

Chapter Text

“So let me get this straight,” Hawks said. “The League of Villains threw you a baby shower.”

“Yep,” Dabi said, popping the ‘p.’ 

“And Shigaraki Tomura, leader of the League of Villains, hand --pfft, hand-- handmade a pacifier for your baby.” Hawks went cross-eyed scrutinizing the hand pacifier. There were even knuckle wrinkles!

“How is that any weirder than the second-in-command making us cake and insisting I bring you your piece?” Dabi asked. 

They were seated on the floor of Hawks’ bedroom, sorting through baby supplies from both his shopping trip and the gifts from the League. 

Hawks didn’t answer his question, too busy staring at the Stain plushie. “I didn’t even know they made these.”

Dabi shrugged. “They might not.” He did not elaborate.

Hawks held up the sling. “This is a nice gift. Though…” He turned it around. “I don’t think there’s room for my wings.”

“Can’t you just remove your feathers?” Dabi snorted.

Hawks chucked the sling at him. “That’s a pain. This can be your sling, I’ll get one to cut holes in or something.” Also he just really really really really wanted to see Dabi in this specific sling. It was designed with a lot of extra fabric so it could be worn without a shirt underneath (“For skin-to-skin,” Dabi had informed him knowingly.) and Hawks was a simple man. He wanted to see his ‘villain boo’ (he’d adopted Rumi’s label. It was accurate, so why not?) without a shirt, holding a baby. He wanted Omelet to hurry up and hatch for that visual specifically. He would take a picture of that. And frame it. Speaking of… 

“Should we do like a ‘pregnancy’ photoshoot?” Hawks sprawled out on his belly to begin sorting through the next bag. 

Dabi choked. “Like the ones where the dude is, like, kissing the pregnant belly? How would that work with Omelet? Are you gonna put him in your shirt?” 

Hawks laughed. “No, no, though that is an option… I was thinking more, we dress up, we surround Omelet with flowers or whatever, and we pose with him.” 

Dabi leaned over Hawks. “Hm, are you sure that’s not just an excuse to make me dress up?”

Hawks rolled over and rested his head in Dabi’s lap. “Mmm, maybe so.” Dabi was looking down at him, and from this angle, his hair was falling forward attractively. Hawks’ heart jumped in his chest. Yes, Dabi may be, er, ‘well-done’ bordering on overcooked, but it was clear that he’d been heartbreakingly handsome. Actually, screw it, he was still handsome. Maybe ‘hot’ would be the more appropriate word, because like. Fire. It was true what they said; chicks do dig scars. So too, it seemed, did full grown hawks. He grabbed a hold of the lapels of Dabi’s stupid coat and tried to tug him down for a kiss. 

Dabi wheezed a laugh. “I can’t kiss you in this position, Birdy.”

Hawks blew a raspberry (unfortunately close to Dabi’s face). “Then change it.”

“If you insist.” Unceremoniously, Dabi shoved Hawks off his lap. Hawks squawked in protest, but it quickly turned to a chirp of interest when Dabi shifted around to sling a leg over his stomach so that he was kneeling over him. With a hand on either side of Hawks’ head he leaned down. Hawks titled his face up, closing his eyes in anticipation.

When nothing happened for a moment, he peeked one eye open and then the other. Dabi was glaring at something past Hawks’ line of sight. He rolled onto the top of his head to see what the hold up was about. One of the bags had spilled its contents onto the ground, and there, in plain sight, was the Endeavor onesie. Shit. He’d forgotten about that. 

Hawks tried in vain to distract him by propping himself up on his elbows and kissing his jaw. Unfortunately, this only served to snap Dabi out of his reverie. He grabbed Hawks by the hair and pressed his head into the ground. 

“Why the hell do you have that?” He snarled, his face inches away. Now, normally, Hawks would have zero complaints about this situation. Being pinned was fun! But now it was just irritating because the odds of this leading to sexy times were low. Instead he was just gonna get an earful of Dabi bitching because he hates Endeavor, blah, blah blah. He heaved a sigh and pushed Dabi off of him so he could sit up. 

“It was at the store? I thought it was cute?” Hawks said exasperatedly. “I thought it’d be funny?”

Dabi grabbed the onesie, shaking in Hawks’ face. “How is this funny?”

Hawks tilted his head up defiantly. “Well, you’re freaking out about it, so that’s pretty funny.”

“I’ll show you funny!” Dabi ignited his hand, sending the Endeavor onesie up in smoke.

“Noooo!” Hawks cried. “It was so cute!” 

Dabi reached forward and pulled out the Hawks themed onesie as well. “Keep complaining and this onesie gets it too!” 

“No! Okay, okay, fine I’ll stop,” Hawks said. “Just put the onesie down. Let’s take a break. Lunch?” 

Dabi sighed. “Translation, you want me to make us lunch?”

Hawks nodded enthusiastically. 

Dabi sighed again and ran his hands over his face (apparently forgetting that the ashes of the Endeavor onesie were still on his hands). When he looked up, soot was smeared across his face. Hawks would have laughed except it was unfortunately attractive. Hawks supposed it was the Newsies effect. Why did Dabi have to notice the onesie? Things had been going so well!  

“I’ll make us lunch on two conditions,” Dabi said. “One: Omelet never wears, owns, consumes, or is otherwise exposed to any Endeavor merch.”

“Sure,” Hawks agreed easily. Once he was in a better state of mind, he’d be able to hide Endeavor merch no problem. There would be no repeating this afternoon’s foible. 

“Okay. Two,” Dabi continued. “We finally discuss names.”

“You, sir, have a deal!” Hawks reached out and shook Dabi’s hand (which was not outstretched or in any way positioned to be shaken at that moment). 

Dabi was still giving him the cold shoulder as he cooked them lunch, but that meant Hawks could chatter away. 

“--Hika or sei would be good characters for his name. ‘Light’ and ‘life.’ You know, one of those idealistic names. Dress for the job you want, and all,” Hawks twittered. “I know we were talking about Tama, and I’m not sure if that was a joke or not, but we could do Tama like ‘jewel’ and ‘go’ like knowledge. But then I was also thinking, what is his quirk going to be? I hope he inherits my wings, I want a baby bird. So we could go with something with ‘hane’ for wing or feather. Not gonna lie, something with an ‘H’ just feels right. I keep coming back to like Haseki or Haku. Haku has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Maybe a little short though. Haku...ro? Haku...to? Hakuhaku? Hakuta? Heh, ‘Hakuta matata…’” Hawks sang. 

“Haku na.” Dabi icily broke his silence. 

“Huh?” Hawks tilted his head. 

“It’s Haku na -matata,” Dabi said. 

“Hm,” Hawks hummed in agreement. “What a wonderful phrase.”

Dabi finally turned to look at him. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm! Ain’t no passing craze,” Hawks said, standing. “Means ‘no worries, for the rest of your days.”

Dabi caught on to what he was doing. “Don’t.”

Hawks wrapped his arms around Dabi, taking a deep breath. “IT’S OUR PROBLEM FREE!”
“Stop!” Dabi cried, trying to shove him away.

“PHIL-O-SO-PHY!” Hawks sang loudly (and probably off-key. Oh well). 

“The-the food’s gonna burn,” Dabi protested. Hawks ignored him, taking his hands in his own and trying to pull him into a dance. 

“Hakuna matata!” Hawks finished. “‘It’s our motto!’”

“No it’s not. What’s wrong with you?” Dabi asked, finally breaking free. 

Hawks cleared his throat. In a stage whisper he said, “Your line is ‘what’s a motto.’”

“I’m not saying that,” Dabi deadpanned. 

“Say it!” Hawks demanded. “Say it! Say it--”

“Shut up!” Dabi yelled. “‘What the fuck is a motto.’ There. Happy?”

Hawks gasped, “I don’t remember that line in Lion King. But anyway; NOTHING! What’s a motto with you?”  

Dabi’s face was impassive. Without a word, he took the food he was cooking off the stove and moved towards the trashcan. 

“NOOOO!” Hawks cried. 

Dabi slouched moodily while Hawks munched on the food (that Dabi hadn’t ended up throwing away). Hawks felt proud of himself for mastering the art of irritating people to the very edge of their limits and then backing off just before pushing them over it. It was fun with Endeavor, it was fun with Rumi (though he’d learned the hard way that she was quick to hit when she was irritated), and it was certainly fun with Dabi. 

“So what are your name ideas?” Hawks asked, mouth full. 

Dabi hesitated before answering. “I kind of like something with ‘tou.’” 

“‘Tou?’” Hawks asked consideringly. It was fine, he thought, but he didn’t see anything special or significant about it. “Why?”

He looked away, “No reason. Forget about it. Nevermind.” Hawks wasn’t sure if Dabi was just being moody or what, but he was being uncharacteristically wiggy.

Hawks felt a twinge of concern, like maybe he’d missed something. “No, it’s okay,” he tried. “I wasn’t saying no, I was just wondering--”

“I said forget about it,” Dabi said with a quiet intensity. 

Hawks was uncomfortable with the silence that followed. “So uh… I had some names after my quirk, so how about yours? Atsu like ‘hot’ would be cool.”

Dab shrugged.

“I was saying I like things that start with ‘H,’ how about ‘hi’ for fire?” Hawks was struck with an idea. “Or ‘en’ like flame could work--”
“No way in hell,” Dabi cut him off. Damn it, he noticed. 

Hawks feigned innocence. “What? Why?”

Dabi smiled joylessly at him. “Let’s think really hard and we might be able to figure out why I don’t want my son to be named anything with en-as-in-flame.” 

Well darn. But 炎 had other readings!

“‘Hono’ as in flame?” Hawks suggested hopefully. 

When Dabi met his eyes, his gaze was full of something unidentifiably sad and unexpected that sent a sharp jab of guilt through Hawks’ chest. “I’d rather limit the influence fire has on our kid’s life.” With that, Dabi stood and left Hawks’ apartment. 

Hm. That wasn’t according to plan. Hawks finished off his food in silence. 

Dabi had to activate his quirk under his skin to keep warm as the sun started sinking below the horizon. He knew Hawks was irritating. He knew this intimately. He knew this and he liked-- uh, tolerated-- him anyway. In truth, he wasn’t actually that angry at Hawks. Annoyed? Yes. He disrespected the consummate art form that was Lion King . Hawks would probably disagree with him and say that Lion King was just furry Hamlet. Or he might even be the type of person to point out that Lion King was probably a plagiarized version of 1950 shonen manga Kimba the White Lion and the thing was, if he did that, Dabi wouldn’t even be able to argue! Because he would be correct! And that damn white lion was real real kawaii to boot. Even so, Lion King had a special place in Dabi’s heart. He related particularly to Scar. He had a good villain song. Shit, did Dabi need a villain song? He should make a villain song. Maybe a whole League of Villains theme. Except he doubted their ability to harmonize and he was pretty sure Shigaraki would be a whole diva and demand the melody or something. Yeah, no, if he was gonna have a villain song, it was gonna have to be solo.

Part of him was also vaguely disappointed that Hawks evidently couldn’t sing. That ruled out duets if he ever got invited to one of the League of Villains karaoke nights. Who was he gonna sing “Summer Nights” with? Toga? Actually, Spinner would probably be willing-- No, nevermind that was a bad train of thought. 

Dabi heaved a sigh. He should probably get back to Hawks’ apartment. Hawks seemed the type to secretly worry and Dabi had left quite abruptly. He knew that he’d been the one to bring up the whole name thing, but hadn’t realized how mortifying it was going to be to suggest that they name Omelet after himself. He’d thought he was going to combust. And then Hawks had to go and suggest they name the kid something ‘en.’ He was going to have to double kill Endeavor now, and single killing him was proving to be hard enough. 

The apartment was quiet. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Hawks to throw himself into his arms in relief that he hadn’t left for good? Had Hawks ever jumped into his arms? He kinda liked the idea of it, but with all the fried food the guy ate (despite Dabi’s best efforts to make him eat healthy), he wasn’t so sure he could lift him. 

Hawks was in his bedroom. He looked up from his phone when Dabi entered. 

“You’re back,” he commented blithely. 

‘Secretly worry,’ yeah right. Maybe Hawks’ dumbassery was contagious, if Dabi had actually thought he was going to worry about him disappearing. Or even more unlikely, Dabi thought with a snort, worry about hurting his feelings. He was a hardened criminal, Hawks couldn’t hurt his feelings, and Hawks was smart enough to know that. 

“You staying the night?” Hawks asked. 

Dabi quirked an eyebrow. “You propositioning me?” 

“Hm, no, I was more hoping you’d watch Omelet for a few hours so I could sleep.” Hawks fluttered his eyelashes stupidly. 

Dabi snorted. He flipped off the light. “Timer starts now. Your shift starts at 3.” 

For all intents and purposes, Dabi had moved in with Hawks. They took shifts watching over Omelet while the other slept or went out for food or work or shopping or whatever. It was disgustingly domestic and horribly addicting. Dabi wasn’t sure when exactly it had happened, but he began to discover clothes that were distinctly not Hawks’ style and suspiciously in Dabi’s size in one of Hawks’ drawers. (He felt unpleasantly predictable in that he definitely wouldn’t have accepted them outright, but had been very pleased to ‘steal’ them.) Snacks he liked earned a place in the pantry, soaps with scents he liked lived in the shower right next to Hawks’ extensive collection of hair product. He had begun to think of the left side of the bed as ‘his’ side. He knew what songs Hawks liked to ‘sing’ in the shower, he knew how Hawks liked his ‘coffee’ (it was the blondest shit Dabi had ever seen in his life. He was pretty sure you could give Hawks a cup of hot creamer and he’d think it was perfect). Every morning was “‘Morning Hawks, ‘morning Omelet.” Every day was chatting with Omelet, to try out names, to ‘see what felt right.’ Currently, Hawks was particularly attached to Hotaru, and Dabi, not wanting to admit the idea came from Shigaraki, was insistent that Hidori would be much better (“It’s literally ‘fire’ and ‘bird.’ It starts with ‘h.’ What’s not to like?”) Every night was “Early shift or late shift?” It was comfortable. 

Well, actually, it was indescribably frustrating.

Because Hawks was apparently determined to personally ensure that Dabi never saw any action ever again as long as he should live. Hawks was a tease and a half , and then suddenly it would be “Oh, we should check on Omelet!” 

On top of that, it was getting really hard (hah) to convince himself that he was only physically attracted to Hawks when he was perfectly content with gentle kisses in the mornings and when he felt like smiling whenever Hawks reached for his hand in a sleepy state. He was so unused to the casual physical… affection (there was no other word for it) that it always caught him off guard when Hawks leaned against his back while he was cooking or dropped a kiss in his hair when they changed Omelet-watching-shifts. The first time Hawks had sat him down to help him clean his sutures, Dabi had been paralyzed, feeling tingly from head to toe. 

Getting attached to Hawks was a bad idea on so many levels, but he was getting dangerously close to feeling fond. It was too easy to believe, sometimes, that Hawks was fond of him as well. Maybe even more than fond. Sometimes, he caught Hawks gazing at him with something like adoration in his eyes. Sometimes, he caught himself looking at Hawks, just for the sake of looking. And sometimes, when Hawks caught him staring and smiled at him, it made him feel like a shoujo anime school girl being noticed by senpai. 

And for some reason, it made him feel horny. But it was different. It wasn’t like he thought Hawks was irresistibly sexy or doing anything provocative in those moments. He was just… Hawks. And that, somehow, was enough for him to get worked up. He just wanted to have sex with Hawks. More than that, he wanted to be intimate with Hawks, and that was terrifying. He hoped a good romp or two would make the feeling go away, but he suspected the issue was much deeper seated. 

It was worth a shot though! Maybe several shots. Maybe a lot of shots. 

Dabi was pretty sure he’d narrowed down the primary issues holding Hawks back. Mostly, Hawks was worried about leaving Omelet alone uncared for too long. And what did Omelet need? Heat and humidity and to be turned every so often (but that wasn’t urgent). So Dabi had cleverly found solutions. 

He marched into Hawks’ apartment and placed the nondescript bag in front of him. 

“What tribute have you brought me now?” Hawks asked. 

“A solution,” said Dabi. “A humidifier. And an electric blanket.”

Hawks blinked and moved to investigate the boxes. The humidifier was shaped like a little chick. Despite the cutesy design, it was high tech with sensors that promised to keep the room within a very small range of the set humidity. Similarly, the electric blanket was all souped up with a timer and a temperature setter.  

“These… are expensive,” Hawks said. “Where’d you get them?”

“If you’re concerned that I stole them, I just gotta say, you’re not really cut out to be a villain,” Dabi snarked. 

“No, that’s not it,” Hawks waved him off. “Where did you get it?”

“Villainmart,” Dabi answered flatly. 

“That’s not a thing.” Hawks narrowed his eyes accusingly. He sounded just a little unsure. 

“Sure is,” said Dabi. 

Hawks crossed his arms. “I don’t believe you.” 

Dabi shrugged. “You don’t have to. You can’t get in anyway, unless you’re a villain. It’s like BJ’s.”

“BJ’s is Villainmart?” Hawks laughed. 

“No, Villainmart is like BJ’s. You have to have a Villain Card to shop there. Prices are great though.”

Hawks laughed even harder. “Can I see your Villain Card?”

“Why, so you can copy it and steal my discounts? Hell no.” Dabi couldn’t quite help the laughter creeping into his voice.

They rearranged the nest with the electric blanket after testing it out (“It’s so warm!”) and set up the humidifier. 

Dabi stood back to admire their work. Omelet looked very cozy. 

“So,” Hawks said. “Omelet is taken care of…”

“Yeah,” Dabi agreed, distracted.

Hawks cleared his throat. He wrapped his arms over Dabi’s shoulders. “I said,” he said. “Omelet is taken care of.”  

“Oh!” Dabi caught Hawks’ drift. He also caught his waist and drew them flush together. He grinned wolfishly. “Guess we’ll have to find some way to entertain ourselves.” 

“Guess so!” Hawk pulled him down. 

Later, Hawks was snoozing off beside Dabi. 

Dabi poked him. “Hey. Omelet probably has ears by now…”

Hawks peeked open an eye. “Yeah, probably?”

“Hm. You think he heard us?”

Hawks smacked him with a pillow. 

Unfortunately for Dabi, all evidence was going towards refuting his hypothesis. The more he was with Hawks, the more he wanted Hawks, and the worse The Feeling got. This must be what people meant when they talked about ‘domestic bliss.’ They had a disney movie marathon (Hawks introduced Dabi to Lion King 1 ½ and Lion King II neither of which held a candle to the original, in Dabi’s humble, correct opinion) with Omelet. Hawks also insisted on exposing Omelet to as much 80’s content as possible. Hawks was insufferable when they watched The Breakfast Club, quoting every line as it was spoken. There was one (1) song Hawks could sing with some skill, but this song was, unfortunately, Careless Whisper. If Dabi had to listen to Total Eclipse of the Heart one more time, he was going to put green hair dye in Hawks’ shampoo. 

“I want Ferris Bueller to be Hotaru’s role model,” Hawks said. 

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea for us to teach Hidori to be rebellious,” Dabi commented. “You know, just from the perspective as the people he would be rebelling against.”  

Hawks scoffed. “Bah humbug! I’m gonna be the cool dad. You’re going to be the one Hotaru rebels against.” 

“Yeah, you’re not really convincing me here.”

Hawks even showed him Lord of the Rings when he learned Dabi had never seen the movie. Dabi thought it was pretty good. Except he and Hawks got, ahem, distracted halfway through, and then when the movie ended, Dabi was horrified to learn there was another entire disk. And then two more movies with two disks each. Who had the time to watch all that?! He’d wondered before if Hawks had free time, but now he knew; Hawks had free time, he just wasted it watching a tiny blue-eyed twink boy moaning over a piece of jewelry. Dabi wasn’t gonna lie though, that Strider figure could like… get it. Pretty elf dude at the very end wasn’t bad either. Dabi thought The Lord of the Rings would be watchable if it were, what, nine hours? of just those two. He was not overly moved by Hawks’ insistence that there was much more ‘Aragorn and Legolas’ content later. 

The most surprising thing to come of all of this was that Dabi felt a sense of… what? Comfort? Home? Not feeling like he was constantly in danger? He woke up groggy and relaxed in the mornings, sometimes wrapped in a pair of red wings, sometimes with Hawks drooling on the pillow next to him, sometimes with Hawks grinning over him like he was just that damn happy that Dabi woke up, sometimes he woke up to see Hawks running fingers over Omelet’s shell. The days when he woke up cold or cramped and immediately on alert seemed so far away. Things weren’t ‘perfect’ or whatever, because that was impossible. Hatred for the hand the world had dealt still simmered just beneath his scarred skin, but it was easier to ignore when he was the happiest he had ever been in his life. He could close his eyes and pretend he was a normal person living a normal life. He could pretend Hawks was a normal boyfriend instead of the associate-slash-enemy with benefits/roommate/baby mamma/object of Weird Feelings shit they had going on. He could pretend the abject terror he felt about becoming a father was just normal first time parent feelings instead of a genuine fear that his humanity was too broken to feel love for the kid who deserved everything. 

But somehow, with all this being relaxed and comfortable and safe and whatever-the-hell-else, Dabi felt tense. He felt like he was holding his breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was waiting for the universe to say “Sike!” or to realize it had mistakenly let something good happen to him for once. 

Hawks was babbling about being able to see Omelet’s hand or something while they candled him. He was distinctly more baby-sized now, taking up most of the egg. 

“I was thinking Hikari, like star, would be a good name! Since stars are fire, like you, in the sky, like me!” Hawks was saying. “Dabi? You in there? You’re not gonna pass out again, are you?” 

Dabi was only half listening. In his head, he was forcing himself to remember everything about this moment that he could. 

Remember it, Dabi thought, because you’re going to lose this too.  

“I just think Dungeons and Dragons would be a good addition to game night,” Spinner was saying. 

“Save game night pitches for game night pitch time,” Toga whispered. “Otherwise it gets put on the game night blacklist.” She sounded like she was speaking from experience.

“In that case, I suggest Monopoly!” Spinner rushed to say. 

“Aren’t we supposed to be doing some actual serious shit tonight?” Dabi asked. As glad as he was to be doing something productive, he was itching to go home. 

“Yes,” said Shigaraki. “We’re supposed to be meeting with another group to discuss sharing resources and intel.”

“Another team up?” Mr. Compress said. “I must admit, I’m not the biggest fan of those.”

Shigaraki shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea.” 

“We have resources and intel, we need more people,” Kurogiri reasoned. “So it’s mutually beneficial.”

“Except they’re not going to trust us,” Mr. Compress griped. “And there’s no way we’re trusting them.” 

“Of course not,” Shigaraki agreed. “But they reached out first. If nothing else, it will be interesting.”

“I don’t trust your definition of ‘interesting,’” Dabi growled. “Is there something you’re not telling us?” 

“It’s probably an ambush,” Shigaraki admitted easily. 

“And we’re going anyway?” Spinner sputtered. 

Shigaraki shrugged again. “‘Said we needed people. Didn’t say we needed them anything but alive.” 

Nomus, Dabi thought. Seemed like grunt work, if you asked him. Not only that, it sounded dangerous and outside the realm of villainous activities stipulated in his parental leave. 

“You wouldn’t expect me to be going, now would you?” Dabi asked. “I’m on parental leave.” 

Toga mouthed whipped. Dabi flipped her the bird. 

Shigaraki only grumbled in response but Kurogiri actually spoke up. “No, I suppose that you shouldn’t come… But we can count on you to burn the evidence?”

Dabi shrugged. “Yeah, I can handle that.” 

“Good,” Kurogiri said. “Shall we go?”

He opened a warp gate to travel through. Immediately the air became colder. 

“Brrr, chilly.” Toga shivered. “Is that supposed to happen?” 

Kurogiri didn’t respond. In fact, Kurogiri wasn’t moving. The League was on their feet in an instant. 

“Something’s wrong,” said Twice. “Everything’s peachy!” 

Several dark shapes seemed to ooze out of the warp gate.

“Hello, League of Villains,” a disembodied voice intoned. “You are under attack.”

Chapter Text

“Hello, League of Villains,” a disembodied voice intoned. “You are under attack.”

Chaos erupted. The figures coming through the warp gate seemed to be bringing darkness with them. Dabi ignited himself, and from the frantic strobing light of his fire, he could see the room filled with amorphous bodies. Nearby Spinner and Toga were slashing at them left and right to no avail. Shigaraki gave a panicked gasp when his hands phased through his attackers. One came close enough to touch Dabi. It was freezing to the touch, like water from the bottom of the ocean. 

They surged forward, engulfing Compress and Twice in a wave of viscous beings. Dabi countered with a flaming wave of his own. The beings dissipated where the blue fire touched them. All around, Dabi was surrounded by the roiling black mass, closing in everywhere his fire wasn’t. Sometimes someone would surface, Toga gasping for air before disappearing again, or Kurogiri’s wispy hand. 

Dabi’s eyes widened when a face he was not expecting appeared. 

Hawks emerged briefly from the torrent with a cry, but was quickly pulled back in.

“Hawks?!” Dabi’s fire nearly sputtered out in disbelief.  

“Save me!” Hawks cried, appearing again. “Save Omelet!”

And Omelet was there too, ejected from the darkness and falling, falling… 

Dabi tried to catch the egg, but it fell, shattering on the ground in a perfect sunny side up--

Dabi woke with a gasp. 

What a stupid nightmare. If Omelet’s shell broke, he would just be like… a mostly formed baby at this point. Which would be infinitely more horrifying, so he was glad for his subconscious' cartoonish representation. Also why would Hawks be with the League--

Hawks was trying to join the League. 

“Babe?” Hawks asked groggily beside him. “You okay?” 

Dabi grunted in reply. 

“Nightmare?” Hawks asked, sitting up. 

“Yeah,” Dabi admitted despite himself. “‘Was stupid.” 

 “Mm.” Hawks leaned against him. “Wanna talk about it?”

Did he… want to talk about his stupid nightmare with Hawks? “No.” 

Hawks shrugged, unperturbed. “I’m going back to sleep. Can you check on Omelet?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he was snoring lightly again. 

Dabi pulled on a shirt after checking on Omelet (he was fine, the electric blanket worked like a charm). He needed to take a walk. He needed to think seriously, which was always a chore. 

It was below freezing and the cold air stung his sutures. 

Hawks was trying to join the League. Dabi was like at least 70….60….51% sure that it was for non-villainous reasons. But if Hawks did join the League, and if he was a villain, what kind of life would Omelet have? Would they hire a babysitter while they went and did League stuff? Would they bring Omelet to League meetings? What if they got attacked again? Raised by two villains, what chance would Omelet have at a normal life? 

What would Dabi do if Hawks were part of the League and they got attacked? Even the idea of it made him feel weird and on edge. He was going to have to like… protect him. Dabi didn’t protect people! Plus the League would definitely never leave him alone if they saw how disgustingly soft he had started acting towards Hawks. 

The sky had turned to a milky indigo when he returned. Hawks was dumping (literally dumping) sugar in his coffee (that was mostly creamer anyway). He looked up.

“Did you have a nice walk?” His eyes squinched up like they always did when he was about to say something particularly irritating. “Did you get the zoomies?” 

“We need to talk,” Dabi said. 

Immediately Hawks’ demeanor changed. It wouldn’t have been immediately apparent to anyone who hadn’t been spending all day every day with him for the past month or so, but Dabi saw how his relaxed stance and expression became deliberate, how his gaze sharpened. 

“Sure!” The nonchalance in his voice was frighteningly convincing. Had he always been such a good liar? “What about?”

Dabi didn’t like that Hawks was so on guard. He didn’t want this to be a bad conversation. He didn’t want… he didn’t want Hawks to think he was being mean. He was doing this for Omelet (and for Hawks, but he wasn’t ready to admit that). Hawks relaxed a little when Dabi gently wrapped his arms around his middle. He responded immediately, draping his arms over Dabi’s shoulders and leaned up into the offered kiss. 

Dabi wasn’t good at words or feelings or really a lot other than destroying things, but he liked to think he was a good kisser. He tried his best to convey his feelings in the kiss: that he cared about Hawks, that Omelet was probably the best thing to have happened to him, that he was trying to preserve this, what they had. This was a lot to convey, so obviously he had to kiss Hawks very intensely to express all this. 

Hawks pulled away with a (...cute) squeak when Dabi went in with tongue.  “Hey now,” he laughed. “It’s a bit early for all that. And as nice as this is, it’s not exactly a conversation.”  

Dabi grumbled (definitely not pouting) and rested his forehead against Hawks’. Well, there really was no point in beating around the bush, now was there?

“You can’t join the League,” said Dabi. 

Hawks blinked in confusion. “What? D-did your leader say no?” 

“No,” Dabi scoffed. “I did.”

Hawks pulled away, looking betrayed. “Why?!” 

Dabi rolled his eyes. “Think about it. What’s it gonna be like for Omelet if he has two villain parents?”

Hawks was shaking his head in disbelief. “I’d still be posing as a hero, the public wouldn’t have to know! It wouldn’t affect him.” 

“Yeah, because one parent who’s openly a villain doing dangerous things and one parent who’s leading a double life is the best situation for a kid. Where would you have time for him? What if I get arrested? What if we both get arrested?”

“Have more faith in me than that,” Hawks said, sounding hurt. “We can make plans for if something happens to us. This doesn’t have to stop anything--”

“Screw what happens to us, do you really want your son growing up to be a villain?!” Dabi raised his voice. 

“Newsflash, you are a villain!” Hawks yelled in return. “And it’s better than him growing up to be a hero!”

Heat simmered under Dabi’s skin. “I know I’m a villain, that’s how I know it’s the last thing I want for my kid!”

“Yeah? Well I could say the same thing!” Hawks’ eyes blazed. 

“So raise the kid normal! We can’t do that if we’re both villains,” Dabi said. Why didn’t Hawks get it? 

“So now you want me to quit being a hero too?” Hawks accused.
“I don’t give a damn what else you do, but you’re not going to be a villain,” Dabi tried to channel as much authority as he could into his voice. Hawks wasn’t about to change his mind. 

Hawks regained some of his composure. “Yeah? And how are you going to stop me?”

“I just told you,” Dabi scoffed. “You’re not welcome in the League.”

Hawks gave a dry laugh. “Mhm, well, the League aren’t the only villains out there.”

“But you can’t do anything by yourself without ruining your image,” Dabi pointed out. 

“I’m sure there are other villains who wouldn’t be stupid enough to turn down intel from the Number 2 Hero. Hell, I’m sure there are plenty of villains who would do my bidding.” 

“Oh yeah?” Dabi challenged. “I’d like to see that.”

“Hm. You’ll see it when I send my minions to destroy the League,” Hawks’ eyes were cold. 

“Come on, Birdy, don’t be like that.” Dabi didn’t like how distant Hawks looked. He often considered Hawks to be like a chicken or one of those weirdass birds of paradise, but like this, he could see that he really was a bird of prey. It didn’t scare him, per se, but it filled him with a sense of dread. 

“Are you going to reconsider your offer to let me join?” Hawks prompted.

“No.”

“Then I’m going to ‘be like that,’” Hawks huffed. “You don’t get to tell me to be a stay-at-home parent just because you’re scared. You quit villainy if you’re so concerned.”
Dabi shook his head. “I can’t, I have a mission--”

“And I don’t?!” Hawks laughed. “I don’t know what the hell is up with your grudge against hero society, but I can tell you, mine is a lot more personal.” 

A flash of blue flame flared up like a halo around Dabi. “Yeah? Yeah? You think that, do you? You don’t know the hell I’ve been put through in the name of ‘hero society’--” 

“And you don’t know the hell I’ve gone through--”

Dabi interrupted him. “Then don’t put Omelet through any! I don’t want our kid anywhere near this shit--” 

“You think I do?” Hawks protested.

“Yes! Because you still want to be a villain! You’re not in this life yet, you’re free, you can get out!” Dabi said. 

“You think that just because I have wings, I’m free?” Hawks said, so quiet, Dabi almost didn’t catch it. 

“Well aren’t you?” Why wouldn’t Hawks be free? 

“‘Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,’” Hawks said ryely. 

Dabi narrowed his eyes, “Are you quoting song lyrics at me during an argument?” 

Hawks ignored him. “I have too much to lose.”

“For the first time in my entire goddamn life, I can say the same thing, Birdy,” Dabi growled. He softened his voice. “I don’t want to lose-- this.” He couldn’t put into words the life that he was living with Hawks. 

Hawks’ shoulders slumped. “That’s why we both have to do what we need to do. Do you think the world would just let us have this?”

“The world doesn’t have to know,” Dabi wasn’t pleading. He wasn’t. 

“I don’t think living our life in secret is ideal for Omelet either,” Hawks commented. 

Dabi was struck with a crazy thought. “Then let’s just run away.” 

Hawks startled. “What?”

“Let’s run away,” Dabi repeated. It was a crazy idea. They’d both give up their goals, their missions, but Dabi found he was willing to give up on killing Endeavor for the sake of giving Omelet a good life. The old fire bastard would die eventually anyway. One way or another, Endeavor would die. But he only had one shot at raising Omelet.

“Run away,” Hawks echoed. “Where?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Dabi took Hawks’ face in his hands. “But let’s leave, get away from hero society. ‘Can’t beat ‘em, run away from ‘em’ and all that.”

“I don’t think that’s how that quote goes,” said Hawks. “And if you haven’t noticed, hero society is just… society, at this point.”

Now there was an idea. “So let’s leave society!”
Hawks choked on a laugh. “And, what, be cavemen?”  

“I was thinking more like secluded sheepherders, or farmers, or the sole populace of a tropical island,” Dabi said. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll go where you want to go. What do ya say, Birdy?”

Hawks looked amused, but his small smile fell away. “Dabi,” he sighed. “We can’t do that.”

“But why not?” Dabi protested.

“I don’t know how to farm or herd sheep, for one,” Hawks chuckled. “Two, I can’t just… I have a duty. I can’t just let everyone else suffer while I escape to drink piña coladas.”

“You have a duty to Omelet, too,” Dabi said. 

“Of course I do!” Hawks sounded offended. “But that doesn’t mean I can just walk away from my other duties.” 

“We need to stop saying ‘duty,’ or I won’t be able to take this seriously. If you’re working as a hero and moonlighting as a villain, that doesn’t leave a lot of time for anything else,” Dabi pointed out again. “I know you have some weird martyr complex, you want to be the ‘sacrificial lamb,’ or whatever, but that seems pretty mutually exclusive to being a good parent, if you ask me.”

“And I’m saying worry about yourself! If you want Omelet to have a stay at home parent, be my guest,” Hawks said. “You’re the one who wants to run away.”

“If we’re going to run away, we need to run away. I can’t just change my mind about being a high-profile villain and show up in a few years as Omelet’s school’s PTA president. Can you imagine the bake sales?” 

“You’d make an awful PTA president,” Hawks said. Dabi ignored him. 

“Look.” Dabi sighed, running a hand over his face. “You’re not in the villain world yet. I can’t tell you what else to do, but just… Don’t be a villain.”

“Do you think I’m not capable?” Hawks challenged. 

“Nobody is capable!” Dabi said. “As fucked up as the hero world is, the villain world is lawless. Literally. Right now, your only enemies are the villains you fight. In the villain world, everyone is your enemy. And that’s a world I want to keep our baby as far away from as possible.” 

“I can protect him! Even if you don’t think you can.” Hawks was defensive. 

“Like hell you can! You’re an arrogant spoiled brat who’s too much of a hero in your own mind to know what it means to be anything else.” Well, Dabi was defensive too. “Even as a villain, you want to, what? Save people from hero society? Be the hero for the villains? I’m asking you to take something seriously in your life for once. You need to choose between playing savior or raising your kid, because I’m telling you now, you can’t do both. Heroes don’t make good parents.”

“If you haven’t noticed, that’s who I am, that’s how I was raised,” Hawks said bitterly. 

“And I’m telling you to change.” Dabi’s voice was burning. “And if I can’t convince you, I can at least stop you from joining the League. You’ll thank me later.”

Hawks was silent and for a moment, Dabi thought maybe he had convinced him. 

“So your mind’s made up then,” Hawks said. 

“Yes,” Dabi confirmed. “You’re not joining the League.”

“So you’re no longer my contact to the League.” There was an unidentifiable undertone to his question. 

“Guess not,” said Dabi, shrugging. He reached for Hawks’ abandoned ‘coffee’ on the counter. It was as tooth-rotting as he expected, but it was a good distraction. 

Hawks cleared his throat. “Then you don’t need to be here.” 

Dabi choked, feeling his heart leap. “What?” He croaked out. 

“If you’re not going to let me into the League, then there’s no real reason to keep you around, now is there?” Hawks’ voice was glacial. 

He… he was just saying that. He had to be. There was no way he was just… a contact. Was that really all he was to him? 

“But… Omelet--” Dabi began protesting. 

“--Will be fine with just me,” Hawks finished for him. “And you know what? Maybe you’re right. The less contact Omelet has with the villain world, the better. So why don’t you leave?” 

Dabi’s mind was racing. No, no, no, no, no! This wasn’t supposed to happen! He took a step forward. “Hawks--”

The mug he was holding fell to the ground and shattered. Hawks had his sword out, and not in the fun kind of way. 

He leveled the hardened feather at Dabi. “Get. Out.”

Dabi did.

“Guess who’s back and betta than eva!” Dabi announced, slamming open the door of the bar. “I’m a full-time villain again!”

He was met with a resounding silence from the rest of the League. 

Toga was the first to break it. “Full-time…?”

“Yep! Parental leave is over,” he said, taking a seat. “Kurogiri, remember that American shit you gave me that one time like a month ago? Gimme some of that.” 

Toga gasped. “Did… Did something happen to Omie?” 

Dabi retched after downing a shot of the drink (but still slid the glass back for another). “Omelet’s fine,” he wheezed. 

“Then what--? Did Hawks break up with you?” Toga pressed. 

Dabi didn’t answer, fixing her with a glare that could have melted flesh from bone. 

“Ohh, Dabi-kun…” Toga cooed, sounding genuinely sympathetic. 

“What happened?” Spinner asked, once again, reaffirming Dabi’s suspicion that he had no sense of self-preservation. But… maybe he could be useful. 

“Spinner.” Dabi turned to him after downing another shot that burned all the way down. “You’re nosy and opinionated, right?”
He looked taken aback. “I consider myself to be, yes?” 

“Hm,” Dabi hummed. “Then you wanna share your opinion-- which I know you have-- about something?”

“Yes! One second, I’ll be right back!” Spinner ran to a bag of his belongings and pulled out a binder (which had a collage of Stain pictures on the front?). He frantically flipped through until apparently finding what he was looking for. “Okay, continue. What seems to be bothering you today?”

“Gee, thanks, doc,” Dabi snorted. His head was beginning to feel floaty-- those Americans sure knew how to make alcohol. He was going to blame that for his sudden bout of emotional vulnerability. “I… had a nightmare. About the attack from the other day.”

Compress cut in. “You mean the one that over in like two seconds when you realized their only weapon was weak to fire?”

“Yeah, that one,” Dabi agreed. “Except Hawks and Omelet were there and Omelet broke.” 

Spinner nodded, humming consideringly. He jotted down some notes in his binder. “And how did this nightmare make you feel?”

“Shitty,” Dabi deadpanned. “But uh, it made me realize I didn’t want Hawks to join the League.”

“Whaaaaaat?” Toga whined. “But I wanted to meet Hawks-kun!” 

“You decided that because of a dream?” Kurogiri sounded surprised. 

“Yeah, Omelet broke,” Dabi repeated, as if this explained everything. 

Spinner nodded again. “Do you believe that Hawks joining the League will directly result in Omelet breaking?”

Dabi snorted. “Not directly no. But if we’re both here being villains, who’s gonna watch Omelet?”

Toga waved her hand frantically. “Me! Me! I’ll do it! I want to babysit Omie-chan!” 

“Dumbass, you’ll be here being a villain too.” Dabi rolled his eyes. 

Toga’s hand drooped. “Oh yeah…” 

“But she’s right,” Kurogiri said. “You could hire a babysitter.”

“Yeah, occasionally, but I need to be the Number 1 Dad, so I don’t want Omelet to be raised by babysitters,” Dabi explained. “Plus, you said it yourselves; this is a high-risk occupation. What happens to Omelet if the League gets busted?”

“That’s understandable.” Spinner nodded. “But is there something more? Perhaps… something about Hawks?”

“What about him?” Dabi scoffed. 

“How do you feel about him, uh, breaking up with you?” Spinner asked cautiously. 

“Shitty,” Dabi answered again. “In fact, if you ask a question and ‘shitty’ a reasonable answer, go ahead and assume that’s the answer. But he didn’t even break up with me.”

“He didn’t?” Toga perked up. 

Dabi shook his head.

Toga cheered. “That’s great news! So you just had a fight then?”

“Not quite,” Dabi grumbled. “See, if you say he ‘broke up’ with me, that still requires that we were in a relationship in the first place.”

Compress tsked. “Dabi, I’m pretty sure you were, or perhaps still are, in a relationship with Hawks.” 

Dabi shook his head. “Not according to him.”

“Oh,” Compress said dumbly. “Well that does change things.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Spinner prompted.

“That if I wasn’t going to be his League contact, I didn’t need to be there, and that if I thought Omelet needed limited contact with the villain world, I should leave.”

Spinner nodded. “And how did that make you feel?”

“Shitty,” Dabi, and several members of the League, said in sync. 

“And which part made you feel ‘shitty?’” Spinner asked in an affectedly calm voice. He was really committing to his therapist persona. 

“I dunno, all of it?” Dabi snorted. “What’re you getting at here, chief?” 

“Are you upset that you can’t be with Omelet or are you upset you can’t be with Hawks?” Spinner clarified. 

“Both?” Dabi wasn’t sure where Spinner was going with this, so he was going to be suspicious by default. 

“Why do you feel ‘shitty’ that you can’t be with Hawks?” Spinner asked. 

Dabi chuckled. “Two words; dat ass.” 

“Nice,” said Toga. 

“And is that it?” Spinner prompted, his calm persona beginning to crack. 

“I dunno, he has like… one of those comfyass Tempurpedic mattresses,” Dabi said. “I’ll miss that.”

Spinner inhaled deeply through his nose. “Anything else?” 

Dabi thought about it. He was gonna miss the comfy bed and the sexy birdman to share it with him. Was there really anything else? “I don’t think so?”

Spinner was gripping his pen tightly. “You’re not going to miss Hawks himself?”

Dabi was confused. “I already said ‘dat ass.’” 

Spinner was grinding his teeth. “What about the man attached to ‘dat ass?’” 

Dabi blinked slowly. “I mean, sometimes I’m the one who’s--”

“I give up!” Spinner cried, tearing the page he was writing on out of his binder. “Does anyone else want to give it a go?”

Compress cleared his throat. “I have an idea.” To Dabi he said, “If I may.”

Dabi shrugged. “What are you going to do?”

“Elucidate some things for you, hopefully,” Compress said with a little bow.

“Ooh, ‘elucidate.’ We got a veritable WordGirl over here,” Dabi jeered. 

“‘Veritable,’” Compress countered. “Okay, Captain Huggyface."

Shigaraki seemed to suffer a sudden bout of coughing. 

“It’s a word association game,” Mr. Compress continued. 

Dabi took another shot. “Bring it on.”

“‘Hawks.’”
“Irritating.”

“‘Egg.’”

“Omelet.”

“‘Romance.’”
“Can You Feel the Love Tonight by Elton John from Lion King.”

“I’m not going to ask.”

“Good.”

“Marriage.”
“The Princess Bride.”

Compress looked taken aback. “Have you even seen The Princess Bride?”

“Hawks showed it to me,” Dabi explained. 

“Ah. I see. ‘Father.’”

“Bastard.”

“‘Love.’”

“Hate.”

Compress sighed. “This is harder than I thought it would be. I tag out.”

Kurogiri stepped in. “I think perhaps the best route is the direct route. Dabi. How do you feel about Hawks?”

Dabi thought about it. Really thought about it, brow furrowing. The League members held their breath. And, “Shitty.”

Kurogiri was undeterred. “And positive emotions?”

Dabi shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Horny.”
“Does horny count as a positive emotion?” Kurogiri asked. 

“Does if it works out.”

“I see. Any other emotions?” Kurogiri really emphasized the word ‘emotions.’

“I feel kinda stupidly soft about him sometimes,” Dabi admitted. Toga cooed.

“And do you know what feeling ‘stupidly soft’ about someone is called?” Kurogiri prompted. 

Oh no. Oh hell no. 

Dabi gasped, “I have a stupid crush on Hawks!” 

The bar erupted into cheers. There was apparently still some leftover confetti from the baby shower forever ago because it was tossed into the air. 

“I’m so glad you finally figured it out!” Twice congratulated. “Damnit, why’d you have to figure it out?”

“I told you that forever ago!” Toga complained.

“No, no, no, no,” Dabi said. “You said I was in love.”

“You are,” Toga said flatly.
Dabi was feeling kind of tipsy. “Whaat, no, I just have a crush.”

“No, Dabi-kun,” Toga said. “You’re a bit beyond that.”

It was kind of hard to focus on things, but Dabi thought about that. He was in love? What? Really? That couldn’t be right. He thought about the funny feeling in his chest when Hawks would pull him into a stupid dance and how it was the same one he got when he woke up with Hawks next to him. He thought about that weird happy glow everything seemed to have. That was love? Was that what love was? How would he be in love and not even realized?
“I’m in love?” Dabi asked, distressed. 

“Yes, Dabi-kun,” Toga said slowly, as if to a child. 

Dabi scrunched up his face. His vision was getting swimmy. “How?” 

“It’s a miracle,” Shigaraki called. 

“I’m in love. With Hawks,” Dabi said out loud. It sounded funky to his ears. It sounded hinky. What the hell.

Dabi woke up, god knows how long later, with a pounding headache and an ache in his chest and he felt cold. And Hawks wasn’t there. 0/10, one star, would not recommend to a friend, will not be shopping here again. Where was he even? It felt like he was laying on a floor and he could hear murmuring voices. He groaned and stretched and was surprised to find a thin blanket thrown over him. Sitting up, he realized he was laying somewhere in the bar. On the ground. With a blanket over him. Hm. 

His head protested when he stood up, be he ignored it; he’d had worse. He followed the sound of the voices to the back where a room was illuminated by yellow light that made his headache unbearable. He pressed on. 

“... lead him to the bait, then Compress can do his thing. Then we can either let Dabi do the honors or Shigaraki--”

“Do the honors for what?” Dabi asked, squinting. Immediately, everyone turned their papers over. Twice threw his body over the table to hide whatever plan they were making and Toga planted herself with her arms spread wide to block Dabi’s view. Unfortunately, all this was moot because on the oversized whiteboard behind the table, there was a sloppy, but still recognizable drawing of a stick figure Hawks with arrows pointing to another drawing of a box propped up with a stick with fried chicken under it. At the top of the board, in large block letters was: Operation KILL, MAIM, or OTHERWISE DESTROY HAWKS (✿ʘ‿ʘ)✂╰⋃╯

(Dabi was pretty sure Toga had drawn the emoticon.)

Too late, Compress noticed the board and flipped it over. All this did, however, was reveal the betting pool on how long it would take Dabi to realize he was in love with Hawks recorded on the other side. He generously decided to ignore that (for now).

“We’re, uh,” Spinner began. “Planning a surprise?”

“You’re planning to kill-- excuse me, ‘kill, maim, or otherwise destroy’ Hawks,” Dabi deadpanned. 

“Um...Surprise?” Twice offered. 

“Happy birthday!” Toga put in. 

Dabi snorted. “Nice try, today’s not my birthday.”

“Spinner!” Toga shouted. “Mark November 27th off on the Days That are NOT Dabi-kun’s Birthday calendar!” 

“Got it!” Spinner dutifully pulled out a small calendar and crossed out the date. “Only 292 more days of guessing until we get it.”

Toga gasped. “Unless you were born on Leap Day!” 

“No.”

“Aw.” She pouted. “Spinner--”

“On it!”

“Does anyone want to tell me why you are plotting to kill Hawks--”

“Or maim!” Spinner interrupted. 

“Or otherwise destroy,” Compressed finished with alarming relish.

“Yes, all that,” Dabi agreed. “Why?”

“He broke your heart, we remove his parts,” Toga sing-songed. Twice nodded in agreement. 

Spinner cleared his throat. “He’s a disgrace to heroism and Stain would want him dead.” 

“I just think it would be fun.” Mr. Compress shrugged.

Dabi pressed his fingers into his throbbing temples. “Okay, I can understand you four, but Kurogiri? Shigaraki? You don’t even care.” 

Shigaraki casually turned the large stack of papers sitting in front of him to dust. “I don’t care. There’s no proof.”

Kurogiri primly straightened his vest. “We agreed killing Hawks would be a wise strategic move.”

“Yes, it’s strategic,” Shigaraki put in quickly. “Now that he’s not joining the League, he’s a threat to us. Plus, it boosts our reputation if we take out the Number 2 hero.” 

Dabi supposed that was fair. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Kurogiri repeated. “You’re on board?”

Dabi shrugged. “Whoever’s plan is on the whiteboard will work.” 

“Yes!” Toga cheered. “I told you!”

“No way,” Spinner disagreed. “Really?”

“Yeah, he’ll see unattended chicken and bird instincts will kick in. Once he’s in the dark from the box, he’ll think it’s night, and go to sleep,” Dabi explained. 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not…” Compress muttered. 

Dabi shrugged again. “Give it a shot. See how it works out for you.”

“I think,” Kurogiri began. “That you are a biased source regarding Hawks.”

Dabi snorted. “No shit.”

“But Dabi-kun.” Toga tugged on his sleeve. “Don’t you wanna kill Hawks-kun for breaking your heart?”

“He didn’t break shit,” Dabi insisted. “And no, not particularly. If you haven’t noticed, he sort of has our son.”

“That’s why we’re going to kidnap Omie-chan after killing Hawks-kun!” Toga explained in a jovial voice.

“I don’t want to be a single father!” Dabi protested.

“We would help you raise Omelet, of course,” said Kurogiri. 

“Oh, well, that changes everything.” Dabi rolled his eyes. “Don’t kill Hawks.”
“But Dabi-kuuuuuuun,” whined Toga. “The sooner he’s dead, the sooner you can get over him!” 

Dabi entertained, for a moment, the idea of killing Hawks. It would be super easy. Just get him with his pants down (literally or metaphorically) and he was a sitting duck. He could pull Hawks into a searing kiss and send them both up in flames. Dabi would survive of course, and Hawks would be fried chicken. 

Now, normally, Dabi got at the very least some grim satisfaction from the idea of snuffing someone out, but when Hawks was the one going up in flames… It made his heart rate kick up. His stomach twisted and he was pretty sure it was not because of the hangover. Damn, he really must love Hawks if the idea of killing him got him this worked up. It happened when he imagined any of the other Leaguers killing Hawks too. It was frightening how much Hawks being alive was necessary for Dabi’s world to turn normally. Was this what love was? Not wanting someone to die gruesomely at your or your friends’ hands? Maybe. He also didn’t want Omelet to die. Dabi was beginning to sense a pattern. 

He put his head in his hands. What was happening to him? He was experiencing emotions! And not just like one or two, he was experiencing like five entire emotions at once. This was unprecedented and his systems were not equipped for it. He wanted to turn his brain off and turn it back on again. Without saving his work, so he could go back to his original version. 

“Dabi-kun?” Toga asked. 

Dabi didn’t look up. The light was too bright, his head was full of too many emotions, and his chest was beginning to feel achy again. 

He did glance up in surprise when he felt two slender arms wrap around him. 

“It will be okay, Dabi-kun,” whispered Toga. She was hugging him. Toga was hugging Dabi. 

Inconveniently, this added a new emotion to the fray in Dabi’s mind. But pleasantly, this new emotion muffled the others, like a blanket.

He didn’t hug her back, but he stood still and let her hug him. He let her soothe away the sharpness of his feelings. 

He didn’t want Toga to die, either, he realized. Did that mean he loved her? 

Maybe, Dabi thought, I’ve loved a lot without noticing.

The idea seemed kind of ridiculous that you could love without noticing, but then, maybe it was just hard to hear love whispering when hate yelled so loud. 

Hawks was a mess. He was like post-breakup Elle Woods in Legally Blonde. His eyeliner was smudged hopelessly around his face, running down his cheeks in dark streams. He’d made his way through several tubs of ice cream in the past few days. He even finally ate that salted caramel ice cream that had appeared in his freezer at some point. He didn’t like salted caramel. He was pretty sure Dabi wouldn’t have gotten salted caramel ice cream. Where did it come from. Didn’t matter, it was gone now. 

So were the last of the leftovers of Dabi’s cooking. It was pathetic how much that made him miss Dabi. There was nobody to go on food runs for him now. He finally gave in and texted Rumi when his craving for chocolate cake became overwhelming. 

To: Bugs Bunny <3

Can you please bring me some chocolate cake

He didn’t want to text Rumi because he knew she would laugh at him for being this pathetic. And then she would be all “I told you so” over Dabi. Except that Hawks had been the one to kick him out… So technically she hadn’t been right about Dabi. 

From: Bugs Bunny <3

What, is villain boo not available to get you food?

To: Bugs Bunny <3

No he’s not 💔

Rumi was more correct than she could know.

From: Bugs Bunny <3

Oh no bud I’ll be right over

Rumi appeared maybe twenty minutes later with an entire chocolate cake, more ice cream, and makeup wipes. She knew him so well. 

As soon as he opened the door, she pulled him into a crushing hug. “Hey bud, you okay?”

Hawks pressed his face into her shoulder. “No,” he said, muffled. 

“Aw, hey,” she said. “Why don’t we break into the cake and you can tell me what happened.”

And so, through a mouthful of chocolate cake, Hawks launched into his story:

“So it was like 4am and he came back in from a walk and told me that I couldn’t be a v-- that I couldn’t be a hero anymore if I wanted to be a good dad to Omelet because he wanted him as far away from hero/villain society as possible, and I told him I couldn’t just stop being a hero and that if he wanted to limit Omelet’s exposure to the villain world, he should leave.”

At least, that’s what he was trying to say. Through the cake, it came out much more like:
“Shrrhit mlah or am anee aimahih frm a wah an tol meh ah I cuh buh v-- i cuh buh huh…” 

Rumi nodded. “Yeah I’m not even gonna pretend I understood that. Care to repeat that sans the cake?”

Hawks swallowed hard. Did he actually want to repeat what he just said? No. “Dabi wanted to run away together,” he said instead.

Rumi’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Oh yeah? And you said no so he left?”

Hawks grimaced. “No.”

Rumi’s brow furrowed. “You said… yes?”

“No,” Hawks groaned. “I said no and told him to get out.”

“Mhm.” Rumi nodded slowly. “As much as I approve of that decision, I have to say, I’m not following your logic there.”

“He wanted Omelet to be free from hero/villain society. I told him I couldn’t just stop being a hero, but he was welcome to stop being a villain.”

“And then he left,” Rumi concluded. 

“No.” Hawks hated recounting this. “He said he couldn’t just stop being a villain, so I told him if he wanted to limit Omelet’s exposure to villains, he should leave.”
“And he took the out?” Rumi asked.

“No…” Really, personally, Dabi hadn’t done anything wrong. “I threatened him with a feather and told him to leave.”

 Rumi pursed her lips. “And you fought him off?”

“No,” Hawks sighed. “He just left.”

“Hm,” Rumi hummed. “I cannot overstate how glad I am that you finally kicked that nogoodnik out, but bud… you really liked him. Why?”

Hawks’ lip quivered. He did really like Dabi. If he was being honest with himself, it was probably closer to love. In the moment, he would have never considered Dabi’s offer to run away together, but in the past few days, the idea made his chest ache with want. Just the two of them with Omelet, somewhere without heroes or villains. Without the Commission, without the League. He knew it would never work, but he wanted it so badly.  

So why had he told Dabi to leave? He could never tell Rumi the truth, that he’d been distraught that he’d failed his mission. How would he be able to go back to the Commision with a baby and no intel from the League? He was serious about his duty and he took failures as a personal blow. He’d been able to defend his, ahem, fraternizing (like fraternizing really hard) with Dabi when it was for the mission. Even when his own feelings crept into the equation, they weren’t hurting his mission. Now, it all backfired, and it was his fault. No ‘if’s, ‘and’s, or ‘but’s about it; Hawks failed his mission and it was his own fault. He couldn’t blame anyone else. But the worst part was there was nobody he could talk to about it. Dabi, obviously, could never know Hawks was a double agent and Hawks couldn’t emphasize how important it was that he join the League without arousing suspicion. Nobody in the Commission knew about his relationship with Dabi. And Rumi, of course, couldn’t know about his mission. 

So why had he threatened Dabi into leaving? No reason he could tell Rumi.

“I hadn’t had my coffee yet,” Hawks said. 

“Mhm.” Rumi was clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press. “And that’s why you haven’t texted him yet, begging him to come back to you could talk things over rationally. Oh! Speaking of which-- phone.” She held out her hand.
“What?” 

“Give me your phone,” she said. Hawks obliged. He couldn’t remember if he’d told Rumi his password, or if she’d just guessed it. Either was equally as likely, all his passwords were variations of ‘Endeavor.’ For example, his bank password was “EndeavorBooty69” and his email password was “DaddyEndeavor.” Not the most secure, but always very satisfying to enter and difficult to forget. 

“There.” Rumi handed him his phone back.
“What did you do?” He asked.

“Well, you know the first rule of breakups,” she said. “Especially breakups with villains: don’t text your ex.”

Hawks felt the blood drain out of his face. “Did you…”

Rumi nodded. “I deleted his number.” 

Well now he had really failed his mission! There was no way of getting Dabi back. He wasn’t sure he’d planned to text Dabi but now that he couldn’t he felt another wave of sadness. 

“Rumi…” Hawks’ voice was embarrassingly choked up. 

She rolled her eyes. “Relax, he’s not blocked or anything. This will just keep you from texting first.”

He supposed that was true, but he also doubted Dabi would text first. What reason did he have? It wasn’t like they were meeting for League stuff anymore. Maybe he would text about Omelet…?

Hawks dropped his head into his hands. “I’m so stupid.”

“Well, I mean, yes,” Rumi agreed. “But… it’s not your fault, bud. Feelings do what they want. The heart wants what the heart wants, even if that’s a half-burnt villain.” 

And want a half-burnt villain his heart did. 

Rumi checked in and stayed over several times over the next week. Hawks was grateful for her coming and going because otherwise he was sure he would lose track of the days. His curtains were drawn and he spent most of his time watching bad rom-coms and crying into his new stock of ice cream. He kept watching Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again for inspiration. Donna Sheridan was one strong lady and she was able to deal with heartbreak and raise her baby all by herself. He had to be strong, for Donna. Though, I’ve Been Waiting for You made him sob violently and hug Omelet to himself every time. Why couldn’t his life be a jukebox musical? He wanted Dabi to come back and sing S.O.S. by ABBA to him.  

“Rumi,” Hawks said one afternoon. “I have an idea. I should find the League headquarters and stand outside with a boombox playing Careless Whisper.”

“Hawks, that’s like the 80’s version of texting your ex. And I think the League would kill you for making them listen to Wham!. And do you even own a boombox?”

Hawks pouted. “I have money, I could buy a boombox.”

Rumi laughed. “Why bother with the boombox? Just serenade him yourself.”
“Rumi, you’re a genius!” Hawks stood.

Rumi pulled him back down. “Don’t you dare.”

Hawks threw his head back. “I’M NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN! GUILTY FEET HAVE GOT NO RHYTHM!” That’s as far as he got before Rumi slapped her hand over his mouth.

Unfortunately, Rumi was still working, and duty called. 

“It’s a huge bust with some briefing beforehand, so it’s gonna be a couple of days before I can check on you again. You gonna be good?” Rumi was a blessing that Hawks didn’t deserve. 

He shot her a thumbs up. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be dandy! Swell, even.” 

She ruffled his hair. “I don’t believe you for a second, but alright. I won’t have my phone on me most of the time, so if you’re having issues, you’re gonna have to rely on someone else for once.”

“Okay!” He lied. There was no way he was going to anyone else for help.

“You’re stupid. Love ya.” She punched him lightly in the arm before leaving his apartment. 

Left alone, Hawks flopped into his nest next to Omelet. 

“Oh, Omelet,” Hawks sighed dramatically. “It’s just me and you. I wish we could be frolicing around a Greek island, singing ABBA, but alas…”

Omelet was getting pretty big. He’d candled him the day he’d kicked Dabi out and it looked like he was taking up pretty much the entire egg. It’s been something like…10ish weeks since he’d laid Omelet. That would be nearly the first trimester in a human pregnancy, but at this point, Hawks was pretty sure Omelet was not growing at the rate of a normal human fetus. He was moving around a squirming which was beyond cool to feel through the egg. At this point, Hawks was nearly certain that Omelet could hear. It was comforting to know that there was someone to listen to him. (Plus, talking to your baby helped them learn and Hawks wanted his baby to be as smart as possible. He needed all the help he could get, since he had Dabi’s genes.)

“What am I gonna name you?” Hawks pondered. “It’s just up to me now. I could name you anything I wanted. There’s nobody to disagree with me.” He said it to cheer himself up, but it just made him feel lonely. “I could name you Enji, if I wanted. How mad do you think Endeavor would be? How mad do you think Dabi would be? He’d probably kill me. Either way, I would die a fiery death.” 

He found he actually really didn’t want Omelet to be named Enji. For one thing, it didn’t suit him, and two, Hawks found himself shockingly uninterested in upsetting Dabi.

“I’m giving you my surname.” Hawks knew that one for sure. He had an awesome surname. “So I don’t think I should name you after myself… Oh! I know! You can have the name I really wanted when I was a kid. ‘Keigo’ seems like an old man's name, so I always thought it would be cool to be called ‘Sora.’ I had a crush on the character from Kingdom Hearts. I think it was the capris. Or maybe his eyes… Anyway, what do you think? Sora Takami?” It had a nice ring to it! “I think it’s good! I just… wish I had another input.” His fingers itched to text Dabi, but he knew his number wasn’t there. Maybe it was good that Rumi deleted it.
“Sora,” he tried out. “Sora. Maybe nothing feels right because you’re just Omelet to me. Whatta ya say? Omelet Takami?”

He rolled Omelet into his lap. “Maybe I just gotta wait until I can see you to know what suits you. I can’t wait to meet you, ya know.” Omelet must have been asleep because the egg didn’t wiggle in his grip as it often did nowadays. Hawks drew a hand gently across the surface of his egg. His baby was in there. Even after all this time, it was mind-boggling to think about the fact that he had a baby. Hawks froze. His heart stopped. Time itself stopped. 

With a shaky hand, he ran his fingers back over Omelet’s shell and yep, there was no mistaking it:

Omelet was cracked.

Chapter Text

Omelet was cracked. 

Hawks’ world narrowed down to the single point, the inch long fracture in Omelet’s shell. 

When had this happened? Had he carelessly knocked against him too hard? Carefully, Hawks set Omelet down, trying his best not to widen the wound. 

He was the Number 2 hero, he could fix this! He’d seen videos of entire chicken babies being hatched in cups. Preterm babies could be kept in the NICU. He was pretty sure Omelet would survive a little crack. If it really came to it, Hawks was sure he could find a surgeon to fix Omelet up. After all, they did surgery on a grape. He got an idea! As quickly as he could, Hawks rummaged around his medicine cabinet until he came up with what he was looking for. He unwrapped the hero-themed bandaid (and was pleased to see that it was one of the Endeavor ones). Carefully, he placed the bandaid over the crack. 

“There we go, Omelet! Good as new, huh?” He forced all the confidence he could into his voice. Wow, he was such a good liar! He would kick ass in a game of BS. “I’m sure you’ll be perfectly fine!” He immediately began Googling the da Vinci Surgical System. He found it could, indeed, do surgery on an egg. 

Further research on cracked eggs revealed that while cracks did pose a threat to his baby, it wasn’t a death sentence. All he had to do was make sure the crack didn’t get infected. Hawks could get disinfectant, he could do that. It wasn’t like there was a global pandemic limiting his access to such materials. He was just lucky like that. Several farmer forums were full of plentiful advice on how to seal up the crack, ranging from nail polish to wax to superglue. Endeavor bandaids weren’t suggested anywhere, unfortunately. 

Okay, disinfectant, disinfectant… Hawks found some antibacterial gel in his medicine cabinet. He pursed his lips unhappily when he realized this was the antibacterial gel he’d been using to dress Dabi’s sutures. Geeeeez, he needed to get a grip. If he kept this up, he would look at fried chicken and be sad because it was the food Dabi used to bring to him. Hawks refused to be a sentimental ex, kindly ignore the fact that most items of clothing Dabi had worn at one point had made their home in Hawks’ bed, that was his own business. 

“Alrighty Omie-omie-omelet, let’s get your booboo cleaned up--” Hawks dropped the tube of gel in shock. The crack had expanded, extending beyond the bandaid an inch or so on either side. This was bad, this was bad, the crack was growing. He quickly squeezed just about the entire tube of antibiotics out and rubbed it lightly into the crack. No bacteria were gonna touch his baby! As he was applying just the right amount of (too much) antibiotic, Omelet gave a shudder and the crack grew more.
“No, no, baby, don’t move, you’re gonna make the crack worse,” Hawks clucked. “Don’t want you hatching early, now do we?”

Wait. 

Hatching. 

Hawks had no idea how long Omelet was supposed to incubate. What if… he was just… hatching? 

“Oh my gOD!” Hawks shrieked. “You’re hatching! You’re hatching! Omelet, you’re hatching!” Hawks’ wings puffed out on their own volition. He ran his hands (still covered in gel) through his hair, causing it to stick up. “Omelet is hatching.” 

Omelet. Was. Hatching. 

This was bad. No, this was good? Badgood? Goodbad? Regardless, it was happening.

“I’m not ready!” Hawks wailed. “Can you hang out for like...a couple of more days, bud? Just stop kicking or punching or whatever you’re doing!” 

Before now, he considered himself to be entirely prepared for Omelet hatching at any time. Now though, there were probably a thousand things running through his head that weren’t ready. 

He was sitting on the bed, rocking back in forth muttering, “Egg, egg, egg,” under his breath. This wasn’t helping. Omelet was hatching and he needed to prepare. What did babies need? Babies weren’t like eggs! They needed food and diapers and emotional support. Why did they give high schoolers eggs in health class? That wouldn’t prepare them at all! He’d been taking care of an egg for the better part of three months and he had no idea how to take care of a baby. The learning curve was steep, and he was gonna have to figure it out soon. Chickens hatched within 24 hours of pipping. By this time tomorrow, Hawks was going to have a baby. 

Panic rose in his chest. Rumi wouldn’t have her phone on her, and he no longer had Dabi’s number. 

He was on his own. 

“And I need you now tonight

And I need you more than ever

And if you only hold me tight

We'll be holding on forever

And we'll only be making it right

'Cause we'll never be wrong

Together we can take it to the end of the line

Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time (all of the time)

I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark

We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks

I really need you tonight”

Remember when Dabi thought he never wanted to listen to “Total Eclipse of the Heart” ever again? Well, it turns out Bonnie Tyler really went off with the lyrics… There really was nothing Dabi could say… it was a total eclipse of the heart. The synth interludes and thundering percussion blasted through his-- well, Hawks’-- airpods (Hawks had very kindly let him borrow them. As in, he hadn’t noticed Dabi stealing them, and that counted as him letting him borrow them). His Spotify Wrapped was gonna be so wrecked because of this. It was all gonna be Bonnie Tyler, because you know what?! “Holding Out for a Hero” slapped too, it reminded him of Shrek 2, and Dabi did need a hero. His hero. Hawks. 

No, wait, undo. Backspace. Dabi could forgive himself the 80’s music, he could forgive himself some pensive moping because that was nearly indistinguishable from just being cool and aloof. He could even forgive himself one to seven listens of Taylor Swift’s “Teardrops on My Guitar” on account of it being an Old Taylor (who couldn’t come to the phone anymore… Rest in Peace, Old Taylor) song and the fact that it was about liking someone who likes someone else, not being dumped by the only person you’ve ever really liked. So it wasn’t applicable to his situation, so it didn’t count. However, Dabi refused to be pining after Hawks. Hawks made it perfectly clear how he felt about him, or rather how he didn’t feel about him. Dabi had been stupid to get attached, he had known he was gonna lose it all, because he just wasn’t meant to be happy. 

Maybe it was for the better though. The idea of him being a dad was laughable. The entire thing had just been… a delusion. A distraction. It had been fun, playing house, but that was over now. Rip off ‘em rose colored glasses! Welcome back to the real world, Dabi! Welcome back to reality where everyone hates you, you hate everyone, and killing Endeavor is the goal that gets you up in the morning and puts you to bed at night. Well, ‘bed.’ Whatever softish place he found to lay down on. Dabi briefly considered sneaking back into Hawks’ apartment and stealing his entire mattress. Tempting. He added it to his Villain Agenda. Maybe he would steal Hawks’ fridge while he was at it. No real reason, it just seemed like the perfect asshole thing to do. 

Dabi sighed and pulled out a cigarette. He hadn’t smoked in a while. Now that he thought about it, he’d stopped around the time he started meeting with Hawks.

A graph of the relationship of cigarettes smoked versus hours spent with Hawks would have a negative correlation , the closet math nerd in Dabi provided. Correlation didn’t mean causation, but damn, when Dabi thought about it, it made sense. His smoking habit had always been just that: a habit. Most drugs never really did it for him because life wouldn’t allow him that luxury either. But nobody bothered him while he smoked and he’d grown to like the burning sensation in his lungs. It was comfortable, familiar. At some point, he supposed, Hawks had become his new fix. Dabi chuckled. The cigarettes were probably cheaper in the long run anyway. 

He lifted a burning finger to light the cigarette when something flew through the dark of the evening and stuck on the side of the roof he was sitting on. Upon further investigation, he realized it was a knife with a letter attached. He groaned and unfolded it. 

“Dearest Dabi,

I hope this letter finds you well. Toga informed me that you were not answering your cell. Please check it at soonest possible convenience and answer promptly.

Sincerely,

Kurogiri, League of Villains”

Dabi snorted at Kurogiri’s formality. He glanced over the side of the roof. From the sidewalk, Toga waved back at him. He chucked her knife back at her, not really caring to be accurate. He could hear the clatter as it hit the asphalt and Toga’s shriek of protest. She flipped him off. He sent one right back at her. 

He did, however, pause Bonnie Tyler and check his phone. 

From: The Stabby One

I have something that will cheer you up!! (◕∇◕✿)

From: The Stabby One

Guess what it is (・ω ・✿)

From: The Stabby One

Guess!!! 

From: The Stabby One

DABI-KUN!!!!

From: The Stabby One

I know you’re busy nursing your broken heart but srsly!!!!!

From: The Stabby One

Okay fine I’ll just tell you

From: The Stabby One

(Last chance to guess)

From: The Stabby One

LAST last chance (≖ ‸ ≖ ✿)

From: The Stabby One

Okay fine, it’s a MISSION! Just for you!!!! (´ ꒳ ` ✿)

From: The Stabby One

I got permission to come throw a knife at you if you don’t answer (✿◉‿◉)🗡 

So much for not being bothered while he was smoking. Even smoking on the roof Toga found him. How did she find him? Could she like… smell his blood? Was Dabi just not as good at hiding as he thought he was?

To: The Stabby One

what the hell

From: The Stabby One

Do you want the mission or not? 

To: The Stabby One

i dunno u tell me

From: The Stabby One

(≖ ︿ ≖ ✿)

From: The Stabby One

If you don’t come down, I’m gonna tell Kurogiri you were smoking again

Dabi groaned. He was a hardened criminal, the misty dad man didn’t scare him. Unrelated, he extinguished his cigarette and made his way to the ground and obediently followed Toga back to the bar. 

“You should text Hawks,” Toga commented blithely. 

“Aren’t you, like, not supposed to text your ex?” Dabi snorted. 

She shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but you’ve been super irritating and boring and pathetic since he dumped you so you should see if he’s willing to take you back as like a personal chef or something.”

“Gee, thanks for the advice.” Dabi rolled his eyes.

“Spinner thinks you should take up yoga,” said Toga. “He says it got him through plenty of breakups.”
Dabi paused. “Spinner dates?”

“‘Parently so.” Toga seemed to be suppressing giggles.
Dabi tried to imagine the type of person Spinner would date but could only come up with Stain in drag. 

“Do you think…” began Toga. “He’s into roleplay? Like Stain roleplay?”

“Shut up, I don’t want to think about that,” Dabi wheezed. 

“‘Mm, you’ve been a naughty hero, accepting money for your work…’” Toga said in an exaggerated deep voice. Toga gasped. “Stain wouldn’t even need to use handcuffs or anything for bondage, he could just drink your blood!” 

“Nooooo,” Dabi groaned, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stooooooop.” 

Toga looked pensive. “Actually, that’d be kinda hot--”

Dabi slapped his hands over his ears. “I refuse to hear this.” He refused to hear it and he refused to think about the fact that Stain’s quirk did have kinky applications and he refused to think of that as hot. 

“Fine, fine, fine,” Toga giggled. “But yeah, Spinner wants us to have ten minute yoga sessions at the end of meetings.”

Dabi tried to imagine Kurogiri doing yoga in his normal suit. 

He snorted. “Imagine Kurogiri in yoga pants.”

Toga’s eyes took on a haunted look. “I don’t have to… I don’t have to…” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Toga said. “Jazzercise Night. You’re lucky you missed it. Shigaraki-kun should consider wearing leg warmers more though.” 

“Toga, when you joined the League,” Dabi started. “Did you ever think this is how it would turn out?”

Toga cocked her head. “What? Seeing Shigaraki-kun hitting the whoa with his extra hands?”

“He did what?” Yoga pants Kurogiri might have been worth seeing that . 

She ignored him. “Poor Stainy, he probably can’t hit the whoa in Tartarus…I think he would want us, as his disciples, to hit the whoa in his honor. Hey, do you think the rest of the League would be willing to learn the Renegade? There’s a video I wanna make.”  

“I don’t think Stain cares whether or not we hit the whoa in his honor.” Dabi’s comment fell on deaf ears, Toga was on a roll. 

“Maybe if there was a Villain Renegade, the pro heroes would duet us!” Toga clapped, clearly delighted by her own idea. Dabi understood each of her words individually but put together, he felt kind of lost. “But maybe pro heroes dancing for attention is the type of thing Stainy wouldn’t like. But we can use that to weed out fake heroes! If they duet us, then we can kill them!” 

Dabi didn’t know what she was talking about, but he knew one thing for sure. “I hope Endeavour ‘duets’ us then.”

“So we can kill him!” Toga cheered.

“So we can kill him,” Dabi agreed.

“Dabi-kun?” Toga said after a moment.

Dabi just grunted in acknowledgement. 

“Does Hawks-kun have a TikTok?” she asked.

“Is that… a euphemism or something?” What the hell was a ‘tiktok.’

“I see,” she said. “Nevermind.” 

“Toga told me to tell you to text Hawks,” said Twice. “Don’t text your ex!” 

“Shhh!” Spinner hissed. “This is supposed to distract him from you-know-who!”

“Voldemort?” Twice whispered back. 

Spinner facepalmed. “No, Awks-Hay!”  

Ah yes, Dabi thought. The League of Villains. Masters of subtlety. 

“You should text Hawks though,” Shigaraki commented. 

“Or perhaps a heartfelt letter,” added Kurogiri. “For a personal touch.”
Dabi snorted. “Ah yes, like the one delivered to me by knife.”

“No, of course not!” Kurogiri exclaimed. “That was a business letter.”

“I’m not writing him a love letter,” Dabi deadpanned. “And what happened to killing and/or maiming Hawks? Why are you suddenly so gung-ho about me texting him?” 

“Well, you didn’t want us to kill Hawks.” Toga was noticeably pouting when she said this. 

“Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer,” said Compress. “Keep your probably traitorous baby mamma closest.”

Shigaraki cleared his throat. “I am in favor of anything that will make you stop listening to Total Eclipse of the Heart. We have to use Spotify too.” The shared Spotify Premium account had been a bad idea. Toga kept adding Kpop to everyone’s personal playlists insisting they ‘needed to listen to them’ or else they ‘haven’t lived.’ He’d once started listening to Shigaraki’s playlist on accident and felt immediate regret. 

“I’m not texting Hawks.” Dabi did not text first. He was not gonna be That Desperate Bitch. That was Hawks’ job. Part of Dabi was still holding out on the hope that Hawks would text him as soon as he got hungry or horny enough. That hope was fading by the day, and Dabi knew inwardly that Hawks probably was glad to see him go. The thought made him want to go listen to Total Eclipse of the Heart again. “The mission better not be ‘text Hawks’ or I will personally end the League myself. Save the heroes the trouble.”

“Damnit, that would have been a good idea! Why didn’t we think of that first?” Spinner said. 

“Because we’re dumb…” replied Toga sadly. 

“Yeah…” Compress agreed. 

Finally, something Dabi could agree with too. 

“So it’s an actual mission then?” he asked suspiciously.

“It’s a recruitment mission,” Shigaraki told him. 

“Yeah because the last one went oh so well,” Dabi snorted. “They any good?”

“I doubt it,” he replied. “But we thought you could use the chance to, uh, channel your ‘emotions.’” Dabi wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be offended by the air quotes around ‘emotions.’ “I don’t think we can work with them, but they agreed to a meeting. If things go south, I trust you will deal with them.”

“They have a cooler name than us and Shigaraki-kun felt threatened,” Toga explained.   

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “What are they called?”

“‘The Strays,’” Toga answered. 

“Hm. Yeah that is cool. Kinda like a boyband,” Dabi said. “‘League of Villains’ sounds like it’s from a shitty 50s cartoon.”

“That’s not very nice,” Kurogiri scolded. “I’m sure whoever came up with it worked very hard.”

“Sure,” Dabi agreed. “So you want me to meet with The Strays and there’s no heartburn if I have to--” he paused for dramatic effect. “Bring them to the pound?”

Toga and Twice burst into applause. Compress golf clapped. 

“That was a good one-liner, Dabi-kun!” Toga cheered. 

“No, no, no!” Spinner said. “He should have said ‘put them down.’” 

“Shut up, it was good.” Dabi glared at him.

“No, but bringing them to the pound doesn’t mean killing them! You could bring them to the pound and they find that they’re microchipped and return them to their owners. Or maybe they get adopted by a loving family! I’m just saying you’re perpetuating the negative stigma surrounding animal shelters, when bringing stray animals to shelters helps prevent the spread of disease and can help animals find homes that would otherwise have died in the streets,” Spinner said all in one breath. “Adopt, don’t shop.”

“Thanks PETA,” Dabi said. Spinner made a strangled noise. “Maybe I was talking about a kill shelter.”

Spinner sputtered. “‘Kill shelters’ have such an undeserved bad rep! They’re only ‘kill shelters’ because they are publicly funded institutions that legally have to take in every animal! They have to put down animals that are less likely to be adopted or are more expensive to care for because they simply don’t have the resources to care for every animal! The ‘don’t support kill shelters’ movement is counterproductive because ‘kill shelters’ wouldn’t be kill shelters if they had more resources!” 

Twice sniffled. 

“That’s so sad!” Toga wailed. “Kurogiri, can we get a puppy?”

“No,” said Kurogiri firmly. “ Dogs are a lot of responsibility. Plus, I would end up being the only one who would take care of it. And I don’t trust you not to get bored and stabby.”

Toga opened her mouth to protest, but apparently thought better of it. 

“And some people--” Spinner jerked his head towards Shigaraki. “Wouldn’t be able to pet it.”

“That’s true, Shigaraki-kun can’t pet dogs,” Toga said sadly. “Is that why you’re like this?”

“Oh but he can pet dogs,” Compress chortled. “Once.”

“I don’t need real life dogs,” Shigaraki sniffed. “I have Nintendogs. And Animal Crossing. ”   

“Anyway, Toga, dogs are stinky and messy and loud,” Dabi said. That’s what he’d been told every time he’d asked for a dog as a child. 

Toga huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. “Well, if that was gonna stop us, we wouldn’t hang out with you.”

“At least Hawks housebroke him,” Compress audibly whispered to Spinner. 

Dabi whipped his head around. “Now if only somebody would housebreak you, we could get through a meeting without you pissing me off.”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Toga cheered. 

“Dabi won that one,” Twice announced. “Eh, I’d give it to Mr. Compress.” 

“No, no,” Spinner said. “Mr. Compress had the added emotional blow.”

“Can I just get my mission now?” Dabi asked. He was ignored.

“But Dabi-kun’s clapback was immediate and scalding,” Toga pointed out. “He came for Mr. Compress’ life.”

“Can I please get my mission?” Dabi pleaded. 

“I vote for Dabi. I think it’s funny that he said ‘pissed,’” said Shigaraki. 

“And I vote for Mr. Compress because I do not think it was funny,” said Kurogiri. “It’s a tie. Moving on!”

“No, we need a tie-breaker!” Toga said.

“Choose the form your battle will take,” Spinner said. 

“Rap battle,” Compress said immediately. 

“Pie making contest,” Dabi countered.

“Later,” Kurogiri chided. “You can finish this dick-measuring contest later--”

“Dick-measuring contest?” Dabi repeated. “I change my answer.”

Toga wolf-whistled. 

“Some body sounds confident,” Spinner said in a commentator voice. “How does Compress respond?”

Compress had steepled his fingers against his chin. “...This is a bluff.” He sounded uncertain. 

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

“Ooh, Compress calls bluff, his competitor does not back down,” Spinner narrated. 

“Dabi-kun does have Small Dick Energy, though…” Toga commented. 

That was a trap, and rising to the bait would be SDE. Dabi just shrugged, unbothered.

“Cool as a cucumber,” Spinner continued narrating. “Will Compress back down?”

“Hm. Ah,” Compress said. “I back down, without shame. Hawks put up with him for like a month. I think, perhaps, we’ve found the reason why.”  

“Savage,” Toga whispered. 

“That was uncalled for.” Kurogiri was trying not to laugh and was clearly failing. “Dabi, here, is sensitive to the subject of Hawks--”

“I ain’t sensitive to shit,” Dabi protested.

Kurogiri continued. “And I would like something other than 80’s breakup songs to come up in our Spotify recommendations.”

“I dunno,” Toga said. “I’m kind of digging the break from My Chemical Romance.”

“You have no room to speak,” Shigaraki accused. “I will never listen to BTS.”

“What about MONSTA X?” Toga asked. 

“No.”

“I like TWICE,” said Twice.

“Thank you!” Toga said. “At least somebody has taste.”

“I just wanted a mission…” said Dabi dejectedly.  

“You’re meeting ‘The Strays’ tomorrow night in an abandoned warehouse,” explained Shigaraki. 

“How original,” Dabi snarked. 

“It’s outside of the city, and the whole area is quiet during the winter. Figured you’d like the room to play with fire,” Shigaraki replied. 

“And I’m going in alone?” Dabi confirmed. 

Shigaraki shrugged. “You’re not on ‘parental leave’ anymore. You can get your hands dirty again.”

Dabi cracked his knuckles. “Just making sure nobody’s gonna be in my way.”

They solidified the details. Dabi would never admit it to their faces, but having a mission did cheer him up. Or, well-- ‘cheer’ probably wasn’t the word for it. But he was looking forward to it. Dabi wasn’t one to hesitate to kill, but he didn’t relish it. For the most part, it was just part of the job. But right now? The idea of being able to do something besides lurk and mope was incredibly appealing. Maybe creating a few more corpses would remind him that domestic life was never meant for him. Help disillusion him. Remind him he was a weapon, first and foremost. 

“Oh, and one more thing for your mission,” Shigaraki called when Dabi was on his way out. “Text Hawks.”

Dabi snorted. “Fuck off.”

Missing Hawks always hit him when he was trying to sleep. It wasn’t just the lack of comfy mattress and fluffy blankets. It was the lack of large feathered wings taking up too much room and the lack of calloused hands grabbing at his own. It was the lack of Hawks. It made his chest feel empty and was one of the few things that could drive Dabi to describe himself as ‘heartbroken.’ Falling in love with Hawks had been the stupidest thing he’d ever done, which was saying something because he once got one of his staples caught on a squirrel (it was trying to steal his french fries, he had to retaliate, and one thing led to another…). 

Why didn’t he text Hawks? He didn’t wanna be desperate? Well he was. Disgustingly, revoltingly so in a way that made Dabi question his entire identity. It wouldn’t make a difference if he texted first or Hawks texted first, Dabi knew he would come running back like a puppydog as soon as Hawks called. As someone who’d always thought his fursona, if he had one-- which he didn’t--, would be an alleycat, this was distressing.

It wouldn’t hurt to text Hawks. The worst thing that would happen is Hawks would just tell him to get lost again, and he’d be no worse off than he already was. Maybe Hawks could be talked into booty calls! That was definitely worth texting him!  

Dabi pulled out his phone, found his message chain with Hawks and… What should he say? What could he say? 

‘I’m sorry I told you that you couldn’t join the League. You still can’t, but I’m sorry?’

That wouldn’t help anything, because that would just bring up the topic that got him kicked out in the first place. He had to pander to Hawks’ interests. 

‘Do you want to have sex?’

That seemed too direct. Not that Hawks was the type to need to be wined and dined, Dabi just thought he wouldn’t be as receptive to the direct approach after a fight. 

‘What are you wearing?’

Nice, nice, that might actually work. Classic line and gives Hawks the power to steer the conversation. But maybe Hawks wouldn’t be interested in a conversation. Maybe he wouldn’t want to read that much text. Dabi needed to be as direct as possible.

‘🍆’

He nodded to himself. That would do it! He found the eggplant emoji and selected it. He stared at the unsent message. Maybe it was too aloof. Maybe Hawks didn’t have mushy feelings for him, but Dabi had mushy feelings for Hawks. Maybe he should tell him about those. Maybe he should just go for it. Drop the L-bomb. 

‘I lov--’

Dabi couldn’t even type it out. Abort. 

He didn’t want to be too wordy, but he didn’t want to be impersonal. He wanted to express his feelings, but he didn’t want to scare Hawks off. This text needed to be a peace offering of biblical proportions. This needed to be the olive branch. 

Then he had it!

It was perfect. It was short, it was open, it wasn’t aloof, and it let Hawks decide where the conversation went!

To: Baby Mamma 🐔

hey 

And that was how you win a man back. 

Dabi dramatically threw open the door to the warehouse and sashayed in. Hawks hadn’t texted him back and he was ready to kill people! 

“Hey there, ‘Strays,’ let’s get this show on the road!” Dabi clapped his hands together. His eyes were adjusting to the dark of the warehouse and he became aware of several sets of reflective eyes shining in the dark. 

“You came alone?” a gruff voice asked. 

“All by myself,” Dabi said, spreading his arms. “Just like Celine Dion.” (Dabi may or may not have listened to that song many times as well.)

“Smeller, is he telling the truth?” The gruff voice called into the darkness. 

“Yes,” a shrill voice replied. 

“Well if you were gonna check, why even bother asking?” Dabi scoffed. 

“Uh, to see if you were gonna tell the truth?” a different voice said. 

Dabi smirked. “Well, that just hurts my feelings. Don’t you trust me?”

The Strays stepped into the center of the warehouse and Dabi could make out their features. He suddenly understood why they were called ‘The Strays.’ Every single one of them, it appeared, had a dog-like mutation quirk. Who he assumed was the leader was a massive man, who appeared to be a bipedal mastiff in a cheap suit. Drool dripped from his massive jowls. A small, terrier-like person who barely came up to his hip ran past Dabi to join the rest of the pack. 

“So,” Dabi disguised a laugh as a cough. “Are you looking to… get adopted?”

Mr. Mastiff growled. “You think that’s funny?”

Dabi bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Do you want to work with slash join the League?”

“Depends,” Mr. Mastiff’s lip curled, baring his teeth. “Are you all so amused by mutation quirks?”

Oof. “No, no, it’s not like that,” Dabi protested. “Some of my best friends have mutation quirks. The League even has a lizard quirk guy--”

“That’s what they all say!” Mr. Mastiff barked. “They assume that just because we look like animals, they can treat us like we’re not above base instincts and-- Spot, we’ve been over this, we do not hump legs during meetings.”

There was a remorseful ‘sorry’ from somewhere behind Dabi. He did not turn to look. 

Dabi held his hands up in mock surrender. “My bad.”

Mr. Mastiff still growled, but in the interest of professionalism, continued. “So what business does the League of Villains have with The Strays?”

“We’re recruiting,” Dabi said simply. He hoped a fight broke out soon. He was itching to throw a punch. “We’ve got the power, but not the numbers.”

“The League would be powerful allies,” Mastiff said. “But, I believe, fickle allies.”

“We were thinking less of an ‘ally’ situation and more of a ‘The Strays’ dissolve to become part of The League,” Dabi said. “Takes care of the ‘fickle ally’ issue, hm? We take care of our own.” Come on, just get pissed and start fighting already. 

Mastiff considered. “That’s a very extreme proposal. We, The Strays, have enjoyed our autonomy. What do you have to offer that would make us want to join?”

Yeesh, he was so… reasonable. Dabi was beginning to feel like if he was looking for a fight, he was barking up the wrong tree. He kept that one to himself. 

“We have an elite team of powerful villains, a strong following of Stain, and, very importantly, we have a name for ourselves,” Dabi bragged. 

Mastiff shook his head (causing his jowls to swing mesmerizingly). “No, I mean… what benefits can you offer to your members? Is there paid time off? Health insurance? A good team of lawyers?”

“We’ve been needing a good team of lawyers!” The terrier-- Sniffer?-- put in. 

“Do you offer lodging? Safe houses?” Mastiff continued.

Shit, these were actually great ideas. Maybe he should pitch them when he got back. What did the League have to offer?

Dabi thought. “Uh… we have a good… parental leave policy? And you get access to the League Spotify Premium Account. We’re still working on a Netflix. Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “Free booze, baby!” 

There was a positive sounding murmur at that. 

“Anything else?” Mastiff prompted.

Nope, Dabi thought. “We do thoroughly vet--” he broke off, trying to stifle a laugh at his own joke. “We thoroughly vet our recruits. You seem like a promising bunch, but I’ll need to know your quirks so I can decide if it’s even worth extending the offer.” Wow, bullshitting people was fun. He should do this more often. 

“You first,” Mastiff said with narrowed eyes. 

“‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,’ eh? I like your style.” Dabi ignited his hand. There was a polite applause. 

“Very well,” said Mastiff. “I have a sonic bark.”

“Bark is actually worse than your bite, then?” Dabi joked.

Mastiff shrugged. “They both kill.”
“I smell,” Sniffer said shrilly. 

“Yeah, and you can sniff things real good too,” someone chortled. 

 “Huh? I don’t get it,” Sniffer said in confusion. 

“I am capable of physically communicating with dogs and wolves,” another member said. 

“I have noxious dog breath,” yet another said. 

“Sure, but what’s your quirk?” Dabi joked. 

Someone gasped in offense. “Hey, I just told that joke on Sniffer!” 

Dabi surveyed the crew in front of him. Then he noticed someone, much shorter than the rest, including Sniffer. They appeared to be a golden retriever wearing a sports jersey. 

“This is Buddy,” the psychic introduced. “He is very good with projectiles.”

“Air Bud?” Dabi gasped. “I’m such a big fan! I’ve seen like all twelve of your movies!”

Buddy did not respond. 

“He’s, uh,” the psychic started. “He’s actually a dog. We’re not even sure if he has a quirk or if he’s just good at throwing balls.”

An actual dog, huh? “Does… does he like head pats?” Dabi asked. 

“He does enjoy them, yes,” the psychic confirmed. 

“Can… can I pat his head?” 

“You may pat his head.” The psychic inclined their head. 

Dabi pat Buddy’s head and received a lick up his hand for his efforts. Gross. But also cute? 

“Buddy has my invitation to join the League,” Dabi said. 

The psychic nodded. “He will consider it.”

“What are the League’s goals?” Mastiff cut in.

“Pretty simple. We want to rid the world of fake heroes and all that. We run an anti-All Might facebook page. Haven’t you seen Stain’s video? It pretty much covers what we’re trying to do.” Dabi shrugged. Man, the League actually sounded kind of lame when he was putting it like this.

Mastiff nodded. “I am aware of the League’s philosophy from your publicity. But what are your solid plans? Killing heroes? Making the world safer for non-heroes? Lobbying for regulation and accountability of heroes’ actions? Ending the use of child soldiers? How are you ‘ridding the world of fake heroes?’”

“We have, uh, nomus to kill heroes,” Dabi said. “We don’t really go the legal route.”

“I see,” said Mastiff. “If you have these ‘nomus,’ why do you need more members? And do you have a portfolio of successful hits and missions we could see?”

Dabi was beginning to feel like a student taking a test he was ill prepared for. “We’ll have to get back to you on that. This was more of an… interest meeting?”

Mr. Mastiff brought a massive paw up to his temple. “In other words, you’re wasting our time.”

“‘Wasting’ is a strong word--” 

“You say you’ve come here to recruit, yet you have no selling points, no benefits to offer, no plan,” Mastiff went on. “It almost makes me think you have… ulterior motives.”

“Whaaaat? Pfft, ulterior motives? Who, me?” Dabi forced a laugh. “Hahaha! No, usually we go ‘League of Villains’ and people go ‘I’m in!’” 

“And that’s why you’ve had so much success,” Mastiff said in a dry tone. 

“Usually these meetings go south pretty quickly, I just honestly wasn’t expecting to get this far,” Dabi admitted. 

Mr. Mastiff cocked his head. “So you came here for a fight then?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” This was much more like it. 

Mastiff slid out of his cheap suit jacket. “Well, we’d hate to disappoint. I don’t like you. I think the League is much too full of themselves and have done nothing to deserve their reputation. Let’s see if some old dogs can’t teach you some new tricks.”

“Okay, so you’re allowed to make dog puns?” Dabi scoffed. “Shame none of you are dalmations, because there’s about to be a fire.” He ignited his hands. 

The warehouse broke into growls. The Strays fanned out to circle around him. Normally, Dabi might’ve put them up in flames and been done with it, but he was needing some entertainment. 

It seemed like they were communicating wordlessly. 

Right, Dabi thought. The psychic.  

He wasn’t sure if dog quirks made The Strays count as dogs enough for the psychic’s quirk, but there wasn’t really another explanation he could think of. Dabi flexed his hand, preparing to launch fire at the psychic. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Instinctively, he reached for it, holding up his hands for pause. 

“I’m sorry, are we boring you?” Mastiff barked.

Dabi didn’t hear him. He was transfixed by the text he’d just recieved. 

From: Baby Mamma 🐔

HE’S PIPPING

He felt like his brain was buffering. 

First thought to load was Hawks texted me back.

Second was nice.

Third, and most important, was actual comprehension of the text. Omelet was hatching.

In a panic, Dabi blurted out, “My wife is going into labor!” 

Not a single part of that statement was true. However, ‘the egg my ex-associate-with-benefits (who I knocked up by accident) laid is hatching’ just didn’t have the same effect. 

“He’s just saying that because he bit off more than he can chew,” someone-- Spot?-- growled. 

“Yeah!” Sniffer yipped. “Let’s get him!” 

Dabi only had the presence of mind to throw an arm in front of him for defense as the pack surged forward. 

“Stop!” Mastiff barked so loud, it made Dabi’s ears ring.

“But boss, don’t we need to teach the League a lesson?” Spot whined. 

Mastiff marched forward to tower over Dabi. 

“Change of plans,” he said cryptically. 

“If you like piña coladas

And getting caught in the rain”

Dabi sat awkwardly in the shotgun seat of Mr. Mastiff’s car. The only thing to break the silence was the cassette of 70’s hits playing on repeat and the occasional dad noise Mastiff made as he drove. Dabi tried not to stare at Mr. Mastiff’s paws on the steering wheel. He didn’t have opposable thumbs! How was he steering?

Buddy was resting his head in Dabi’s lap, sitting on the floor between his feet. Dabi absently fondled his ears, trying not to freak out about the fact his baby was about to hatch and he was sitting in a car driven by a person who was a dog with a gang of other dog people who’d been trying to kill him several minutes before shoved too close together in the back seat. (Mastiff had insisted that the ‘father-to-be gets the front seat.’) 

Mr. Mastiff cleared his throat (for like the umpteenth time). “So, uh--” he spoke for the first time since getting in the car. “Is it a little boy or a little girl?”

“We think it’s a boy,” Dabi said, but as he did, he realized he didn’t know why they thought that. “But we don’t know.”

Mr. Mastiff nodded. “Leaving it a surprise. That’s exciting.”

“And terrifying.” Dabi wiped his palm sweat off on Buddy’s head. 

“That too,” Mastiff agreed. “So what names are you thinking?”

“Uh, we haven’t agreed yet. I was leaning towards ‘Hidori,’ but Ha-- my wife hasn’t settled on anything. We haven’t discussed many girl’s names, but I guess a lot of the names we were thinking work either way.” It felt weird to just casually discuss his baby with strangers, especially strangers who had tried to kill him. But they were nice enough to give him a ride. 

“And these days, it matters less and less,” Mastiff commented. “Plenty of young men with girl’s names who do just fine, and plenty of young ladies with boy’s names who do just fine too. And plenty of people are neither who do well with either.”

Dabi wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just nodded in agreement and silence fell again. 

“What’s your birth plan?” The psychic asked. “I’m guessing it wasn’t supposed to involve you being in a fight.”

“We didn’t really have a plan. Um, at home? Natural?” Those were terms people used when talking about childbirth, right? He hadn’t actually been there for the actual laying of the egg, which was probably the more childbirth part of the whole thing. 

The psychic tsked. “A home birth with no plan?”

“I’m a high profile villain, it’s not like I can just go to the hospital,” Dabi snorted.

“Oh. Oh yeah, I guess that’s true,” the psychic relented. “There should be a villain hospital.”

“Yeah, it can go right next to Villainmart,” Dabi joked. 

“There’s a Villainmart?” yipped Sniffer.

“Are you gonna breastfeed or use formula?” Spot asked. 

“I, personally, will not be breastfeeding my child,” Dabi deadpanned. 

“Breastfeeding is better for you baby’s immune system!” Spot continued. “And it helps mommy bond with the baby!”

“Yes, thank you, I’m aware,” Dabi said. “We’re not even sure how mammalian the kid’s gonna be.”

“Oh how exciting!” Sniffer cried. “Mutation babies are always more exciting.”

Dabi chuckled. “You can say that again.”

“If you’re going to co-sleep, make sure you do it safely!” Spot put in. “And remember that sudden infant death syndrome can happen.”

Sudden infant death syndrome? Dabi’s mind exploded in horrible scenarios that he pushed down. The kid needed to be born , it was a bit early to be worried about him dying suddenly.

“Just remember ABC! Alone, on their Back, in a Crib!” Spot said. 

“And sleep train as soon as possible!” the psychic called. “And if you give a baby honey, it will die.”

“Do you already have a kindergarten picked out?” Sniffer asked. 

Kindergarten? Sleep training? Honey? Dabi was beginning to feel anxiety claw up his chest. Was he supposed to know all this? He was gonna kill his kid, and he wasn’t even going to mean to! The mommy blogs had failed him! 

“Hey!” Mastiff barked. “Knock it off. Can’t you see the guy’s terrified enough already?” Dabi would have felt offended if it weren’t completely true. 

They murmured their apologies. 

“No need to be embarrassed, kid,” Mastiff said in a softer voice. “This is your first, yeah?”

Dabi swallowed. “Yep.”

Mastiff nodded. “Thought so. Don’t worry, babies aren’t as delicate as people think they are. Just don’t be kicking them like footballs, and you’ll be good.” He barked a laugh. “No matter how much you might want to when they go through their terrible twos.”

Dabi averted his gaze out the window. “I’m never going to hurt my kid.” His voice was much more intense than he meant it to be. 

Mastiff seemed to understand. “Of course.”

Dabi didn’t know if it was the stress of Omelet hatching, the emotional turmoil of his past week, or just the overwhelming desire for Mr. Mastiff to tell him ‘good job, sport.’ But it was something that had him opening up.

“My old man didn’t love us. He’s just a flaming trashcan. I’m not even sure he can love. There was nothing we could do that would make him proud, and he made that very clear. He had some delusions of making one of us the new top hero, and until we were, we were disappointments to him. I wanted to make him proud for a long time, when I was a stupid kid who still thought that was something I could do. When I --heh-- broke, he just threw me away. And my mom-- my mom. She knew what was happening. Didn’t do anything about it. If he got too rough with one of us, she might say something, but he wouldn’t hesitate to be too rough to her too. But she was an adult, she could have told someone! She could have taken us and left!” Dabi took a deep breath. “Not her fault, for what happened. But I still wish she’d done something. If she loved us-- if she loved me, she would have done something, right?”

Sniffer whimpered and sniffed. 

Dabi went on. “I wanted to kill my dad. I still do. That’s why I’m a villain actually. That’s why I’m still alive. I can’t die until that bastard’s dead. I wanna have the last laugh.” He pressed his forehead against the cold window. “And then-- my wife… got pregnant. And that sort of changed things. Now I have to live for other people, not just myself and my goal. I was-- mad at first, I guess. I didn’t want things to change. And how can I be a good dad? Neither of my parents were shit, and I’ve gone and made a monster of myself.” He laughed humorlessly. “I decided instead of defeating my old man in combat, I’ll beat him by being the dad he never was. I really thought--” his voice broke. “I really thought I could be a good dad.”

Buddy put a paw on his leg. He didn’t know if the psychic was communicating the story to him, or if he had doggy ESP or whatever, or if he just wanted more attention. It was comforting though.

“Me and, uh, the missus actually got into a fight. Like a week ago. The first time we’ve spoken since then was the text letting me know the baby’s coming. And I’m-- I’m scared.” He’d never opened up to anyone like that, besides Omelet. It was easier the second time around. There was just something about talking to strangers that was almost as liberating as talking to an egg. 

The backseat was full of whimpering dog people.

“That’s so sad!” Sniffer cried. 

“I’m sure whatever this fight was about, you’ll get through it,” Spot said encouragingly. “Stress about the baby probably made things worse, yeah?”

“You are going to be a good dad,” said the psychic quietly. “Being scared means you care.” 

“Sure,” Dabi scoffed. 

“I mean it,” they continued. “You’ve learned from your parent’s failures and your care means you will constantly improve yourself.”

Dabi let the sound of ABBA fill the silence. 

The trip from the warehouse to Hawks’ apartment was a long one, made longer by Dabi’s rising anxiety, but the moment they rolled up near Hawks’ apartment complex, it suddenly felt far too short. At some point, it had started snowing. Fat drops of sleet pattered against the windshield. Dabi could see the lights on in Hawks’ apartment. 

His hands and feet went cold. His baby was hatching in there. All his previous resolve of committing to being a villain dissolved and he was thrown right back into the ‘I’ve gotta be the Best Dad’ mindset. He reached for the door with a shaking hand when he felt a paw on his shoulder. 

“Hey kid.” Mastiff fixed him with an intense dark gaze. “You take care of that kid, you hear me?”

Dabi nodded. “Of course.”

“I mean that,” Mastiff continued. “The moment your baby is born, you hold them tight and give them all the love you have. Even when you’re tired and irritated, you remember what a blessing it is that you even have them. You--” his voice cracked. “You never know when you’re going to lose them.” 

Dabi turned towards him. “Did you lose your kid?”

Mastiff nodded solemnly. “She’s still alive, my little girl. The day she was born was the day I swore I was gonna get my life together. But… it’s a slippery slope, back into crime, and her mom took her away. I don’t have any custody anymore. She’s turning twelve this year. I haven’t seen her since she was five.” His voice was getting tight. “So don’t you make the mistakes I made. Don’t take a single second for granted, kid. You promise me that.”

“I promise,” Dabi said solemnly. With one last nod at Mastiff, he opened the car door. 

“And kid!” Mastiff called as Dabi was marching towards Hawks’ apartment. Dabi paused to look back. “Send us pictures!”

Dabi’s lips quirked upward. He gave The Strays a lazy two-finger salute as they drove away.

His heart began to pound with every step he took closer to Hawks’ door. It had only been right around a week since he’d been here last, but it might as well have been a lifetime. Everything felt surreal, like he was in a dream. Maybe he was dreaming. He slapped himself across the face. Ow. But he didn’t wake up. He was just an idiot standing in the sleet slapping himself.

Dabi quickly glanced around to make sure nobody had seen that.

Hawks’ door was in front of him. Should he knock? Was the door locked? Should he open it? Kick it open for effect? Yell for Hawks to let him in? Send him another text?

A gust of wind carrying a sheet of sleet directly on the back of Dabi’s neck convinced him to push the door. It opened. 

Huh, Dabi thought. If Hawks hadn’t been locking the door, he could have just shown up here at any time. He supposed he could have just come in through the window or something if he’d been so inclined. He once again had the suspicion that Toga’s plan with the box and the fried chicken would have worked. 

Dabi didn’t bother taking his shoes off after entering. It was quiet and dark. He quickly glanced around for any sign of an ambush. He was distressed by how easily Hawks would have been able to set up a capture for him. He was suddenly less amused by the chicken-and-box thing. He’d fall for Hawks-in-a-box. Especially a sexy Hawks in a box, he probably wouldn’t even see the stick propping up the box and he probably wouldn’t even notice he was captured. You see, Dabi had noticed he rarely thought with his brain when it came to Hawks. 

All his blood was in his brain now though. His thoughts were racing. All around Hawks’ apartment, open bags of baby supplies were scattered as if hastily dug through. Baby bottles were knocked over on the counter and had rolled across the floor. There was a new Endeavor onesie sitting on the table (Dabi made quick work of this one too). 

“Hawks?” He called quietly. He didn’t hear a reply. Maybe Hawks had gone to a hospital? Maybe Dabi was going to miss his baby hatching. The thought made him unbearably sad. He decided to check in Hawks’ bedroom. 

Relief flooded him when he saw the bathroom light on with the door ajar and the sound of shuffling on the other side. He took a deep breath and crossed the distance. The sight that met him when he pushed open the door was shocking. 

The medicine cabinet was thrown open and its contents were everywhere. Probably every towel and blanket Hawks owned was spread out in or around the bathtub. In the center of the fuzzy mass sat Omelet, a spiderweb of cracks lacing his shell. It took several moments for Dabi to even notice Hawks who was sat in the corner, shaking. 

“Hawk--” Before Dabi could even finish speaking, he had an armful of birdman. And--

Ah, Dabi thought. Holding Hawks, every single bitter thought and feeling he’d built up towards him in the past week melted away like cotton candy in the rain (though considerably happier than Dabi’s tragic carnival experience). His heart pounded more than it already had been. He worried that he was going to go into cardiac arrest. He was sure Hawks could feel the rhythm between them. 

Hawks squeezed him harder, pressing his face into his shoulder. It made Dabi feel breathless and stupid and… and loved. He felt wanted, he felt needed just because he was holding Hawks, and--

Ah, Dabi thought again. This is love.  

In retrospect it should have been obvious, so painfully obvious. He’d probably been in love with Hawks for a while now. Dabi couldn’t recall a specific time when he’d first felt his heart jump when Hawks looked at him or a moment when he decided he would have been willing to run away with him. It’d been so gradual, he hadn’t even noticed it was there. He’d also been distracted. It was like that one awareness ad with the moonwalking bear. When you’re distracted by being deliriously happy, it’s pretty easy to miss the fact that you’ve fallen in love. Sometimes it took a nosyass bunch of villains nearly telling you pointblank that you were in love to realize it. 

He was definitely aware of it now. 

This is love.

He hated that Hawks was shaking scared. He wanted to be the one to stop it. In an incredibly ironic twist of fate, Dabi wanted to be Hawks’ hero. 

“I’m sorry,” Hawks whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“What, what’s wrong?” Dabi reached to cup Hawks’ face. It was so sappy, but he wanted to be sappy with Hawks. 

Kurogiri was right, he thought mournfully. I am a sappyass man.

Hawks shook his head, but leaned into Dabi’s touch. “I’m sorry. I--” Hawks screwed up his face, like it was painful for him to apologize. Dabi could understand that. Hawks didn’t need to apologize, he let him come back, and that was enough for Dabi. 

“I--” Hawks tried again. “...I missed you,” he finally managed. 

Dabi, ever physical, pulled Hawks in for a kiss. He tried to make the kiss say ‘I missed you like a fucking limb.’ Actually probably more than a limb, since he could get a prosthetic. He missed him like a heart, or a brain, or a dick, something he only had one of and couldn’t replace. 

Hawks’ hands curled into his shirt and he sighed against Dabi’s lips. Dabi could feel the tension leaving him and even his wings smoothed down. Hawks pressed their foreheads together and slowly opened his eyes. He stayed there for another shared breath, a way for both of them to know for sure the other was really there. 

“Omelet’s hatching,” he said when he pulled away.

“I can see that,” said Dabi.

“I know it can take a really long time but I’m starting to get worried.” Hawks was biting an indent into his bottom lip. “He was making a lot of progress earlier, but now he hasn’t moved in a while.”

Dabi leaned over the bathtub. “Can I touch him?” He asked. 

“Gently,” Hawks said. “I don’t want to make anything worse if he’s injured.”

Gingerly as he could, Dabi tapped three times against Omelet’s shell. He held his breath when there was no response. 

“Come on, Omelet,” he said. “You’ve come this far, don’t give up now!” He gave another three little taps. Still no movement. 

Beside him, Hawks tensed. 

“Omelet, you better start moving,” Dabi said warningly. He gave another set of three taps, harder this time. “You’re good at wiggling, just wiggle a little!” 

“Should I take him to the hospital?” Hawks asked anxiously. 

If Omelet was born at the hospital, Dabi wouldn’t get to see him hatch. But… If he needed help, and Dabi didn’t let him go to the hospital just because he, selfishly, wanted to see him hatch, then he would never see Omelet at all. He took a deep breath. 

“Probably not a bad idea,” he admitted. “I’ll stay with him if you wanna pack a bag or whatever.”

Hawks nodded. “I’ll… I’ll go do that.” He sounded out of it. 

As soon as Hawks left the bathroom, Dabi leaned over the bathtub and ran his hand along Omelet’s shell. 

“Hey, come on, you gotta be okay,” he muttered. Something else occurred to him; if Hawks took him to the hospital and he… he didn’t make it, this would be the last time he would see his baby. “You gotta be okay, okay? You’re the fu-- I mean, freaking best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t know what’s gonna happen after you hatch, and I don’t care, okay? I’ll do anything, I promise, just hatch. Whatever it takes, I’m gonna make sure you have the best life, but I can’t do that unless you make it. I don’t know what to do to help you right now, and I hate it.” Dabi watched for any movement. Still nothing. He ran his hand over his face. “You better make it so I can tell you this to your squishy baby face, but uh… I mean it, you’re the most important thing to me. Life’s always been shiiii-- crap-- uh, poop for me, but I’d go through it all ten times over just for the time I’ve already spent with you, okay? Do you understand that? You gotta hatch so I can spend the rest of my life repaying you, okay?” He tapped against Omelet’s shell. He heard Hawks approaching again. It was time. ‘Goodbye’ didn’t feel appropriate, much too ominous. Besides, he had something much more important to say. He took a deep breath. “I love you.” It was infinitely easier to say this time. “I love you, Omelet.” 

Omelet gave a violent jolt against Dabi’s hand. Dabi gave a shriek of surprise that turned into a relieved shout. “Hawks! He’s moving!” 

There was a crash and the sound of fluttering feathers before Hawks burst into the bathroom. Indeed, in the bathtub, Omelet was rocking back and forth with faintly audible ‘thump thump thump’ s. One of the cracks visibly protruded. After a few more rocks, a piece of shell about the size of a walnut fell away. Hawks and Dabi gasped in sync. They leaned over the egg and saw through the small hole--

“Toes!” Hawks cried. “Those-- he-- he has toes!”

“Oh my god,” Dabi said. “Oh my god.”

Hawks took Dabi by the shoulders and shook him. “Our baby has toes and they’re right there and we can see them!” He said hysterically. 

It was true. Omelet appeared to be kicking at the inside of his shell to break it. It didn’t seem like the most efficient of methods. 

“Do you think we should help him hatch?” Dabi asked. 

Hawks shook his head frantically. “I was googling what to do in order to help an egg hatch earlier, and I found out that it’s super easy to make a mistake and cause the baby to bleed out.” 

“Okay, not doing that then,” Dabi said with a nod. “Still, kicking. No wonder he stopped moving, he was probably resting.” 

“But we can see him now!” Hawks yelled. “And he’s okay! And he’s full-term! Or close enough at least. He has toes!”  

“They’re so tiny,” Dabi marveled. “Oh my god, he’s going to be so tiny.”

Hawks gasped. “I should get his tiny baby clothes ready!” He hurried out of the bathroom again.

“It’s gonna be awhile before he’s out!” Dabi called after him. He wasn’t surprised though-- Hawks wasn’t the type to deal with waiting around and doing nothing well. Dabi shook his head in exasperation, but smiled affectionately despite himself.

He watched Omelet’s movements through the tiny window in the shell. 

“Hey, thanks,” he said casually. Then, just because he could, “I love you.”

Hawks flitted in and out of the bathroom over the next few hours. Dabi called him over anytime a new piece of the shell fell away, or when he started rocking again after a long pause. 

Now there was a long piecewise hole horizontally across the bottom of the egg. About seven pieces of egg (wasn’t that like… a Thing in Pirates of the Carribean? Like the shit they used to make the voodoo lady turn into a bunch of crabs?) had fallen away, and it was easier to see what Omelet was doing. Hawks was standing over the bathtub with his phone. 

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

“Recording,” Hawks answered airily. “It’s like a birth video, but not gross.”

“Hey, childbirth is a natural part of life, and it’s a beautiful process,” Dabi scolded. 

“Sure,” Hawks agreed. “But it’s still kind of yucky to watch.” 

Dabi didn’t disagree. 

Hawks snapped some pictures from several different angles. He paused to scroll through them. Apparently satisfied, he sat down next to Dabi. He folded his arms on the side of the tub and rested his chin on top of them. 

“That’s our baby in there,” he said.

“Yeah,” Dabi agreed softly. 

Hawks chuckled, burying his face in his arms. “I never thought this would happen.”

“What, that you would lay an egg?”

“Oh no, I’ve done that before,” Hawks said. 

“Wait, what?” Dabi shouted. “You’ve-- laid other eggs?!” 

“Pfft, it wasn’t fertilized. And it was a long time ago.” Hawks waved his hand dismissively without lifting his head.

Dabi blinked several times. “Wait. So you knew you could lay eggs. And you still let me hit it raw?!”

Hawks didn’t answer. 

“Unbelievable,” Dabi muttered. He couldn’t help a chuckle though. What’s done is done. Specifically, he’d done Hawks, and Hawks laid an egg. 

Hawks lifted his face, but kept his gaze fixed ahead. “What I meant is I never thought I’d have a baby, especially not with a notorious villain.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Dabi said. “I really never thought someone would be having my baby. Especially not the Number 2 Hero.”

“It’s… it’s good though,” Hawks said pensively. “I don’t think I would have chosen it, but I wouldn’t change it.”

Dabi nodded. He could understand that. If you’d told him a year ago that he’d be hooking up on the regular with a famous hero, he would have sent you up in flames for the insult. If you’d told him six months ago that he’d be sitting on the floor of said hero’s bathroom watching their baby hatch out of an egg, he… he wasn’t sure what he would have done. Laughed? Called the mental hospital? He actually didn’t know. Why would someone tell him that? That’s just not a normal thing to say. Even if he’d been inclined to believe it, he still would be concerned that someone felt the need to say that to him. 

“I’m glad it was you,” Hawks said. 

“What?” croaked Dabi. He couldn’t have heard that right. 

“I said I’m glad it was you,” Hawks repeated. “I’m glad that Omelet is your kid.”

Dabi’s heartbeat stuttered. Hawks was glad to have a kid with him? “Why?” is all he could manage. 

Hawks finally glanced at him. “Because-- you care. Because you care like you have something to prove. And I-- I like that. I trust that. I trust that you love Omelet.”

Far from the first time that night, Dabi’s heart raced. He did love Omelet, he was sure of that now. He gulped, deciding whether to take the leap. 

Fuck it, he thought. We’re having a baby together.

“Not just Omelet,” he said. He tried to convey the gravity of what he’d just said, boring his gaze into Hawks’ eyes. They went round with shock when Hawks realized what Dabi had just said. 

Then Dabi was being tackled to the ground as Hawks pressed frantic kisses to his face. He might have been aiming for his mouth, but cheek, nose, and chin were all perfectly acceptable options. Dabi couldn’t help a smile (which Hawks promptly kissed as well). Dabi brought his hands up to either side of Hawks’ head to still his frenzied pecks. He used his grasp to draw them gently together for a lingering kiss. It was unhurried and good. Amazing even. Dabi shivered from the sensation of being the focal point of Hawks’ attention. The intensity he brought to the heated slide of their mouths left Dabi feeling breathless. 

Though that might have just been because Hawks was sitting on his chest and it was literally hard to breathe. When he got uncomfortable, he grunted, pushing against Hawks shoulder. Hawks chased his lips when he pulled away.

Dabi wheezed. “I need to breathe, Birdy!”

Reluctantly, Hawks rolled off. He glanced over the side of the tub and gasped.

“Dabi, look!”

He quickly sat up to see that Omelet had made progress. He was kicking out with both legs, pushing the bottom half of the shell away. It wasn’t broken enough to fall away yet, but they could clearly see their baby from the hips down. 

“We were right! He’s a boy!” Hawks cheered. 

Dabi’s head spun. He had a son. He had a SON! Every time he thought he’d come to terms with the reality of it, something else happened to make it feel impossibly more real.

“I don’t think we get credit for guessing right. It was a 50/50 shot,” Dabi snorted. 

“Not necessarily,” Hawks said. “He could have been intersex. And he still yet might be trans.”

“Exactly,” Dabi said. “So don’t count your eggs before they hatch. Or I guess… don’t pat yourself on the back for guessing your egg’s sex before it hatched.” 

“My bad,” Hawks said with an eye roll. Even so, he was grinning ear to ear. “We have a son.”

“I almost can’t believe it.” Dabi grinned too. 

Hawks leaned over the side of the bathtub. “Hi, baby! Hi baby boy!” he cooed. To Dabi he said, “We need to name him.”

Dabi was surprised. “You didn’t decide on a name while I was gone?”

Hawks scratched the back of his head. “I kinda wanted you to be there for the decision. It just didn’t feel right.”

“You’re not still attached to Hotaru, are you?” Dabi asked. “Because I didn’t want to tell you earlier, but I’ll tell you now; Shigaraki suggested that name and if we choose it, he’s going to be an unbearably smug bastard--”

Hawks laughed. “So that’s why you’re so against it. But no, I… I think it’s too… robust? For him? I mean look at those tiny feet. I feel like he needs something more… delicate.”

“His feet are tiny because he’s a baby,” Dabi said. “And I have no idea what you mean by ‘robust’ and ‘delicate,’ but as long as you’re fine with not using Hotaru, I’ll agree with you.”

Hawks snorted. “So what do you want to use?”

Dabi shrugged. “There were a couple of good ones. I like Akari-- or Hikari, since you said you wanted it to start with an ‘h.’ But I think my favorite is still Hidori.” 

“‘Hidori?’” Hawks repeated. “It has a nice ring to it.” He got a mischievous look on his face. “But what about our first idea? He could still be Tamago!”

“He’s not going to be in an egg for much longer,” Dabi pointed out.

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t mean ‘egg,’ and he will have always hatched  from an egg,” Hawks countered.

“Yeah, well I was born from a uterus, and I would hate my parents more than I already do if they named me Shikyu, no matter what kanji they used.” Dabi shook his head. 

Hawks pouted. “Naruto was named after fishcake.”

“Yeah, and? Naruto is a whiny bitchass loser,” Dabi said firmly. “And he’s a bad dad.”

Hawks gasped in offense. “You take that back! Naruto is passionate and determined! And why are you watching Boruto?”

“We’re not naming our son Tamago.”

Hawks blew a raspberry. 

“Are you gonna offer any actual input, or are we putting ‘Hidori’ on the birth announcement?” Dabi asked. 

“Oh yeah! We’re using my last name for him,” Hawks demanded. 

“Good, because we’re sure as hell not using mine,” Dabi said. 

“Why, what is it?” Hawks asked. 

Dabi scoffed. “Nice try.”

“No, tell meeee,” Hawks whined.

“Fine,” Dabi said. 

“Really?” Hawks said hopefully.

“Yeah.” Dabi leaned forward to whisper in Hawks’ ear. “It’s…” he let his voice go inaudible.

“I didn’t hear that,” Hawks whispered back.

“It’s…” Dabi whispered again. “None. Of. Your. Business.” 

Hawks smacked his shoulder, and Dabi rolled away, laughing. 

“You really thought--!” He cackled. 

Hawks pouted. “You’re a jerk.”

“Don’t act so surprised, Birdy, you knew what you were signing up for.”

“Yeah,” Hawks sighed. “I did.” He looked at Dabi fondly. It made Dabi’s face heat and his chest feel funky and was overall not fair. Hawks was exploiting his weakness.

Dabi cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Shut up.”

“Never,” Hawks said. “Anyway, I have more name ideas! So it’s gotta be something that goes with ‘Takami,’ right? So maybe not something that ends in ‘i.’”

“That’s not an idea, that’s just shutting down mine!” Dabi sputtered. 

“But ‘Hidori Takami’ doesn’t sound good,” Hawks said. “It’s too ‘eeeeee.’”

Dabi made a face. He hated to agree with Hawks’ dumb reasoning, but, in Hawks’ dumb words, it was a bit too ‘eeeeee.’ He was disappointed though. He’d come up with ‘Hidori’ himself and he was proud of how concisely it combined him and Hawks in ‘fire’ and ‘bird.’ But if they weren’t going with that idea, he could always bring up using his own 灯. Before he could work up the nerve (it was really embarrassing and intimidating), Hawks continued. 

“I’ve always liked the name ‘Hayato,’” Hawks said. 

“I once named a squirrel Hayato,” Dabi commented. “He stole my fries. And got caught in my staples.”

Hawks blinked. “Maybe not then.”

They went back and forth on a variety of names, so many different variations of ‘fire’ and ‘bird.’ More on the ‘bird,’ courtesy of Hawks.

“Suzaku would be such a good name though!” He argued. “It’s so cool!”

“Aren’t you the one concerned about the sound and feel of names? Isn’t that one too ‘robust’ or whatever?” Dabi said. 

“It’s noble,” Hawks clucked. “But you’re right, it does have a heavy feel to it…”

The hours ticked on as Omelet chipped away at his shell slowly with his tiny baby kicks. Hawks took a break to get coffee for himself and Dabi, but even with the pick-me-up, they were starting to get loopy. 

“ABBA Takami!” Hawks laughed. “It’s perfect!”

“Thank you, I try,” said Dabi. “But what about My Chemical Romance Takami?” 

“No, no, no, X Æ A-12 Takami.” 

"🔥🐤 Takami.” 

Hawks doubled over in laughter at that. It felt good to make him laugh. 

They fell into a pensive silence. Hawks leaned over the tub to tickle one of Omelet’s feet, now free of its confines. He grinned when the foot twitched. 

“I just want to give him a good name,” Hawks sighed. “One that won’t make him hate us.”

“You hate your name?” Dabi asked. 

“It’s not that,” Hawks said. “I just… did you have a name you wished you had?”

“Uh, I guess I wished my last name were different,” Dabi said. 

“No, I mean-- nevermind,” Hawks said. “I used to want to be named Sora.”

“Sora?” Dabi repeated. “Like ‘sky?’” That was… actually nice. He liked the meaning. He loved all the colors of the sky. He liked how vast it was. And Sora sounded good. 

“Yeah, like the sky!” Hawks agreed. Under his breath he muttered, “Not like the video game character.”

“What?”

“What?” Hawks blinked at him innocently. Whatever. 

“Sora Takami?” Dabi tried. It was really nice. It didn’t leave room for him to give Omelet the character from his name, but he supposed it might be better that Omelet not be burdened with his past.

A loud crack caught both their attention. 

Omelet’s shell had separated completely in two and he was wiggling out. Hawks clapped a hand over his mouth. Despite his exhaustion, Dabi suddenly completely awake. His world narrowed down to the tiny scrabbling hands pushing, uncoordinated, against the shell. He watched, transfixed, as from the egg, the tiniest baby emerged. And--

He was perfect.    

Dabi’s world stopped and nothing else mattered. How could anything else matter when his baby-- his baby. His baby-- was in front of him? He was so small, so delicate, so innocent, and he was here. His small fingers on his precious hands were curled into loose fists next to his face, his hair was damp and matted flat to his head. His eyes were screwed shut, giving him the tiniest pout. 

There was nothing Dabi wouldn’t do for him, he swore right then. He’d never felt anything like this. Nothing else compared. It was earth-shattering. It was primal. It was terrifying. Dabi had only recently learned love and even as significant as that had been, it felt trivial compared to-- to this, whatever this was. Could this be love too? Could love feel so big, like a mix of every emotion he’d ever known, and far too big contained by the entire universe? This had to be beyond love because this? This was everything.

His son (his son, his son, his son, his son ) convulsed and coughed up some clear fluid. Omelet drew a small breath and it was like he came to life, like the world suddenly got put in high resolution. He squirmed against the towels he was on and burst into tears.

Hawks quickly joined him. Dabi couldn’t cry tears, but his eyes burned and his throat felt tight.

“Hi, baby!” Hawks sobbed. “Welcome to the world!” He lifted Omelet out of the tub with the utmost care. 

“Take your shirt off,” Dabi choked out. 

“Huh?” Hawks managed through his blubbering. 

“Skin to skin,” Dabi said. He was honestly surprised he could find his voice.

“Right,” Hawks cried. He handed Omelet to Dabi and then Dabi was holding Omelet. 

He was holding his baby. Screw the fact he didn’t have tear ducts, Dabi was pretty sure he was going to cry anyway. He held Omelet’s head in one of his hands (it was so small, it fit) and supported his body with his other arm. He was warm and soft and-- kinda slimy and still screaming. But perfect. So perfect. All of human evolution had led to this point, to creating a baby so perfect. Everyone could stop having babies now, there was no point now that the best baby in the world existed. Omelet wins.  

“Okay,” Hawks said, now slightly calmer (and shirtless). He held out his arms. “I can take him back now.”

Dabi felt incredibly reluctant to relinquish his son, but he knew that he needed skin to skin. He was probably going to get cold since he was still damp, even with the heat of Hawks’ chest. Dabi dug through and found the softest towel to gently dry Omelet with. At the contact, Omelet’s cries quieted. Dabi had never felt more powerful in his life.  

“I love you, Omelet,” he said. Hawks began bawling again. 

“I love you too, baby,” Hawks sniffed, gazing at the lump in his arms. To Dabi he said, “Do you want to make him some formula? I got some out, it should be in the kitchen.”

Dabi didn’t really want to leave, but he was a father, he had to provide food for his child.  

“I’ll be right back,” he said, voice tight. 

As soon as he was out of the bathroom, he had to pause to deal with the exaltation threatening to burst out of him. He punched the air in victory, grinning so hard, he was sure he was going to pop a suture. In his head, he sang WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIENDS! He felt high from how happy he was. But he had a duty. Omelet was counting on him!

Making formula was something the mommy blogs had prepared him very well for. He couldn’t use his wrist to test the temperature because of his scars, so he just used the back of his hand and made sure it was on the cooler side. 

Hawks was sitting on the bed when he returned, holding Omelet wrapped in the towel against his chest. 

“Are those my clothes?” Dabi asked, indicating to the pile on the bed. 

Several feathers quickly swept all the clothes off the bed and out of sight. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Hawks said blithely. “Your turn, take off your shirt.”

“What? Am I feeding him?” Dabi asked. 

Hawks cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah!” He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it off to the side. Omelet whined when Hawks pulled him away from his chest to hand to Dabi, but he soon settled in again. 

Dabi thought he’d reached his Maximum Love for Omelet, but he was proven wrong once again. From where he was nestled against his chest, Omelet looked up at him with huge, unfocused blue, blue eyes. His blue. As cliche as it was, Dabi was absolutely taken out by the fact his son had his eyes. Around those eyes were markings, somewhat like Hawks’ but not quite. He had to be the prettiest baby, and Dabi meant that objectively. Most babies looked kind of squished, but Omelet had a perfect baby face. He had thick eyelashes that would make for some painful puppydog eyes that Dabi already felt weak too. His hair was dry now, and though it was a little sparse, Dabi could see that it was curly (where did he get that?) and… 

“Our baby has pink hair,” he said. 

“It’s like a strawberry blond,” Hawks said. 

“Pink,” Dabi insisted. 

“Fine, fine,” Hawks agreed. “Look, look, look, he doesn’t have a belly button!”

“What?!” Dabi lifted the towel on Omelet’s belly and… he, in fact, did not have a belly button. “Huh.”
“I mean, he hatched from an egg, why would he have one?” Hawks reasoned. 

“I guess,” Dabi said. Then he gasped. “He has wings!” 

“He has wings?!” Hawks pulled the towel away from Omelet’s back to reveal two tiny little nubby wings with itty bitty downy white feathers. He pressed his hands to his forehead in disbelief. “He has wings!”  

Thankfully, Omelet took well to the bottle. Dabi held it carefully horizontally so that he didn’t risk overfeeding him. 

“We need to name him,” Hawks groaned. 

“Can’t we do that tomorrow or something?” Dabi yawned. As excited as he was, the adrenaline was wearing off and he was back on Hawks’ boujee mattress. “We haven’t had any luck so far.”

“No, we’re not sleeping until he has a name,” Hawks insisted. “Or else he’s just gonna be Omelet his whole life.”
“He’s already going to be Omelet his whole life,” Dabi deadpanned. “But fine. Where were we, ‘Sora?’”

“Do you like that one?” Hawks asked, sounding surprised. “I didn’t think you would.”

“I think it suits him,” Dabi said. “Do you see these eyes?”

“They’re your eyes,” Hawks said fondly. “I like ‘Sora,’ but…”

“Oh my god, is any name good enough for you?” Dabi groaned.

“It has to be good enough for our son,” Hawks clucked. “And I just meant… it feels like it’s missing something.”

“I don’t understand you,” Dabi said with an eye roll. But…now was his chance. It was now or never. He cleared his throat. “Uh, not a name, but… I still kind of want him to have ‘tou,’ like ‘light’ in his name.” 

“‘Tou,’ huh?” Hawks said quietly. “You suggested that a while ago too. What is it from?”

Well, he’d come this far. “It’s from my name,” Dabi admitted. “My old name. My real name.”

Hawks’ mouth formed a perfect ‘o.’ “It’s from your name?”

“I mean, not exactly, I was thinking the simplified character from my old name.” Dabi didn’t look at Hawks, feeling vulnerable. Omelet had stopped drinking the formula, so Dabi adjusted him over his shoulder to burp him. He placed the towel over his shoulder carefully so that Omelet’s delicate skin wouldn’t catch on his staples. He began to pat his back gently, but he was so tiny, he was almost afraid to. “It can also be ‘Akari’ or ‘hi,’ I guess--”

Hawks sat bolt up, startling both Dabi and Omelet (who spit up some formula on his shoulder. Nice…). “‘Hi!’” Hawks exclaimed. 

Dabi used the corner of the towel to blot Omelet’s mouth. “...Yeah? What about it?”

“I’ve always said I thought his name should start with ‘h!’” Hawks said. 

Dabi’s head shot around. “You mean you want to use it?” He asked in hopeful disbelief. 

“Yes!” Hawks cheered. “We have one character! What do you think for a second? Hi…bito? Hi...ro?”

Dabi stared out the window pensively. He hadn’t realized how late-- or early it had gotten. He wasn’t sure of the time, but outside, he could hear a lone bird singing. The sun must be rising soon because the sky was full of milky dawn light, tinged pink. He huffed. It almost looked like Omelet’s hair. Maybe they should name him ‘sunrise,’ or ‘dawn.’ Maybe they weren’t on the wrong path with Sora. Wait. 

“Hisora,” he said softly. 灯空

Hawks paused in his brainstorming. “Hisora,” he repeated. A smile bloomed on his face. “Hisora!”

“Is… is that it?” Dabi asked. He brought Omelet-- Hisora? Down from his shoulder to look at him. He yawned widely, showing off his tiny toothless gums adorably. “Do you wanna be named Hisora?”

He made a noise that sounded vaguely affirmative. Hawks laughed. “It sounds like he likes it!” 

“Great, that’s squared away, let’s sleep,” Dabi said. 

Together, they found diapers that fit Omelet-- Hisora. He really was so tiny, Dabi was kind of surprised that there were diapers that fit him. When Dabi returned from cleaning the spit up off himself, Hawks had swaddled Om-- Hisora in a bacon and egg patterned blanket. Dabi watched with a light-feeling heart as Hawks rocked him back and forth and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Yeah, Dabi thought. This is love.  

This was love and he loved it. He loved Hisora, he loved Hawks, he loved this domestic shit, he loved being a dad. He sauntered over and wrapped his arms around both Hawks and baby. Hawks smiled and leaned up to press a kiss at the corner of Dabi’s mouth. They had set up a bassinet for Hisora, but they were both a little too obsessed to put him down just yet. He was sleeping, for now. 

Sitting up in bed with Omelet in his arms and Hawks slumped against his side, Dabi was happy. Plain and simple happy. Content. Impossibly light. It almost felt like he was missing something, but he couldn’t identify what. Maybe ‘missing’ was the wrong word. He felt like a weight had been lifted off him, like his life had finally taken its bra off after a long day. 

He was pretty sure he’d never felt this happy before, but that was supposed to be pretty typical when becoming a new parent. It was something more, something deeper. Endeavor himself could appear right now and Dabi wasn’t sure he he would be able to work up any anger at him--

Ah. He knew what it was. 

It wasn’t something that complex, it was something that most people probably felt all the time. But for Dabi, it was monumental. Maybe even more than feeling love, maybe more than being happy, maybe more than good things happening to him. He’d just taken for granted that he would never feel this way, because he couldn’t. He’d always thought it was part of who he was. 

He glanced down again at his baby, at Hawks’ finger rubbing gentle circles on his round belly, and-- yeah there was no disputing it.  

You can’t help but to love the person that made you feel something other than hate.

That was true, Dabi thought, but wasn’t the full story. It was impossible for him not to love Hisora, and he couldn’t help but love Hawks. But it wasn’t just that he felt something other than hate.

In that moment, for the first time in as long as Dabi could remember, he didn’t feel any hate at all.