Clipped Wings

Chapter 1

It's been a month. A whole month since All for One, since I had an 'honorable' discharge as a pro. A month since I lost my wings. A month...since the nightmares started, since I needed help, and let me say, when your taking mission after mission like I was, there was no time to slow down.

My name is Hawks, a man too fast for my 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, wingless. I can't believe I got to get rides from people. I didn't get my driver's 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 Endeavor 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. And 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"

Being out in public without being a hero was for me was difficult, especially the first month. Everyone had come over to thank me for my services or tell me that I was so brave for taking on someone like All for One. Hell, even a few news reporters wanted to interview me since I was 'all the rage' as the put it, aside from Endeavor that is. They mostly asked the same questions "What's it like without your wings?" or "How does it feel to officially retire from being a hero?"

My alarm blared in my ears, I force my eyes to open, it was 4am, this was normally the time I woke up, took a shower, did my morning stretches, preened my wings if it was needed, get some breakfast, usually anything that had chicken in it was good enough, get dressed and head out by 6am. Since I didn't have patrol, or paperwork, or even anything to do anymore, I decide to turn my alarm off and try to go back to sleep. However, I just fail and decide to scroll the news on my phone.

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 found myself on autopilot as I started wearing it, I'm not a hero, not anymore. I pick out a plain gray T-shirt and blue jeans instead, changing quickly out of my hero outfit.

I wanted to get rid of my hero outfit, however, I didn't have the heart to actually go through with it. Instead, I fold everything, the shirt, pants, even the belt and place them into a box. I look at my cream-colored jacket, and the headphones. I contemplate if I should also put them away too. After what felt like hours, I decide to wear the jacket, it was still a bit chilly after all. As for the headphones I eventually decided to put them into a box as well.

As I look at myself, the mirror, warps. The pain, the blood everywhere, His hand, holding my throat. I feel my hand clenched into a fist. 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?

I forced myself to take a walk, hoping that the fresh air could help ease my nerves, a mistake as I heard sirens blaring. Instincts kicked in as I ran to the sound, trying to keep up. I got pulled back sharply as a car came racing down the street. The person who pulled me back just looked at me. "You need to be more careful. Who knows what would've happened" he spoke before leaving. I just watched the sirens get further and further away from me. With a heavy sigh, I continued my walk until I came across a homeless shelter this needed with a sign that read. "Volunteers needed" This was it, this was my opportunity to still help and still be a hero.