Clipped Wings

Chapter 1

It's been a month. A whole month since All For One, a month since I had an honorable discharge as a pro. A month since I lost my wings. A month...since the nightmares started. It was a month since I needed help.

My name is, was Hawks, a man too fast for my own good, forced to slow down. Pathetic, I know.  I still want to help people, but without fierce wings... I'm just putting myself in danger.  It hasn't been easy adjusting to being, well, wingless. I can't believe I gotta get rides from people. I didn't get my drivers license well because I didn't need one. Why drive when I could easily fly everywhere within a matter of seconds? I've been asking Endevor or anyone else I could think of to give me rides. I know, I know, I could easily walk, or even take the train, but there's one problem,  people still recognize me, even without the wings. Everyone was talking, anytime I took the train, people would stare at me, talk about me, point at me, saying things like "Isn't he the one who lost his quirk? Poor Hawks" or "I'm so glad I'm not a pro." This was the biggest reason I hated the media, always posting stories about anything and everything. 

With a heavy sigh, I manage to eventually force myself out of bed. I make my way to my closet, eyeing what I should wear. Without thinking, my hand just goes to the black shirt with yellow decals on it. I force myself to stop, I shouldn't be wearing it, I'm not a hero, not anymore. I pick out a plain gray t-shirt and blue jeans. I felt...different wearing these. I look at myself in the mirror, trying to remember the last time I wore it.Maybe 4,  maybe 5 years ago now? I don't know.  I was so used to my hero outfit that I didn't really wear anything else. That,  of course, didn't mean I didn't have anything else to wear. I just worse my hero outfit more than my usual street clothes.

As I look at myself, the mirror warps.  The pain; the blood everywhere; His hand; holding my throat, draining my quirk with a cold, calculated expression on his face. My quirk, my wings, I can feel them disappear as red energy surrounfs the two of us. I feel my hand clenched into a fist, wanting to fight, wanting to stop him. But my body was still in recovery after Dabi.  No...no...not this...Not this! Not again! I blink and look at my hands, bloody, glass scattered around me and the now broken mirror. I could feel my heart pick up speed. Why is this happening? Why me?

My breathing  eventually settles after what seemed like minutes of my trying to catch my breath and failing.  I look at the broken mirror, the shards on the floor. This can't be me. It couldn't be me, but it was me. I was broken, and I didn't know why, or maybe I did, but I didn't want to truly admit it to myself.

I take a moment to calm my nerves and go to the closet, grabbing a bag to clean the glass shards from the floor, making sure there wasn't any left. I take out my phone, scrolling through the contacts, trying to figure out who I could call. All Might? No, he was in recovery. How about Mirko? No, she was in therapy for her enhancements. What about Midnight, no...couldn't call her, couldn't call her again. I need to make a note to visit the Pro Hero cemetery and pay respects.

I finally found someone who I could call after looking at my contacts for a good bit. With a deep breath, I give them a call, hoping that they would pick up. After a few moments, I hear the voice from the other end. "Hello?" It was nice to hear a familiar voice after so long. With a heavy breath, I manage to ask, "Hey, it's me. Can....can you drop me off somewhere?"