Notes: All Might is not retired. Endeavor is N0.2, Hawks in NO.3. Takes place during the two days the students had off after the sports festival. Japanese honorifics are used after the names.
Warnings: abuse, injury,
Summary: Hawks visits the Todoroki residence, and sees something is off with Shouto.
Endeavor and Hawks weren't the best of friends. Sure, the latter looked up to the former, but that didn't immediately put them on friendly grounds. They'd work well together on occasion, and sometimes ate lunch together to discuss hero business but that was as far as it went.
So Hawks didn't know why the hell he was standing outside the Todoroki mansion, holding a flipping cake of all things. To be truthful, he had just come to congratulate Endeavor on a recent villain fight he'd won, but he couldn't shake the feeling he was doing this to see his childhood idol's abode in all it's glory.
Hawks knocked anyway. The sound echoed throughout what he presumed was an entrance hallway. His sharp ears picked up something that sounded like cries, but he chalked it up to a misbehaving child in one of the neighbouring mansions.
"SHOUTO, get the door." Endeavor commanded, voice bouncing of the walls and making it's way to where Hawks was listening intently.
The grand entrance was tugged open by none other than the U.A. student, Todoroki Shouto.
"Hawks-san?" He asked, lifiting a crimson, questioning eyebrow. No admiration first, Hawks noted, unlike most teenagers.
"Ah, Shouto-kun, I'd like to speak with your father." The no.3 hero plastered on is television grin, rubbing the back of his neck like usual when he was nervous.
"Come in." Shouto stepped aside, holding open the large door with practised ease. Only when the boy turned around, did Hawks notice the unmistakeable marks of a whip creeping out the top of Shouto's plain shirt.
"How are you?" Hawks asked conversationally, avoiding jumping into his cause for concern right away.
"I'm okay, you?" The teen didn't turn to face him, instead choosing to carry on leading Hawks down multiple halls.
"I'm great!" The hero exclaimed before his features darkened. "Shouto-kun?"
"Hm?" Shouto spun around at the sudden change in tone.
"What's on your back?" Hawks asked, narrowing his eyes slightly as the boy tensed.
"Nothing." He answered quickly- too quickly.
"I thought I saw-" Hawks began again.
"Here we are." Shouto slid open a wooden door, revealing a small sitting area with none other than Endeavor on one of the leaf-green sofas.
"Hawks-san." Endeavor nodded his head towards the other adult.
"Endeavor-san! Long time no see, eh?" Hawks laughed awkwardly.
"What're you doing here?" Endeavor asked.
"I-uh just wanna say congrats on that last villain fight!" Hawks smiled, coming closer.
"I see. Shouto, you're dismissed." Endeavor ordered. He flapped his hand carelessly at the boy, and Shouto gladly exited the room. Dismissed? Hawks was confused; who the hell uses language like that with their own family?
"Well, Hawks-san, thanks." Endeavor continued, drawing Hawks' attention from the door to him again.
"Ah, good good. I brought cake!" Hawks held up the yellow tin, glinting in the sunlight the large windows provided.
"We do not eat cake here." Endeavor announced as if it was the most normal thing on earth.
"Aww, why not?" Hawks questioned.
"Heroes need protein, not sugar." Endeavor insisted.
"Surely Shouto-kun would enjoy it?" Hawks offered, smiling nervously.
"Shouto is not allowed sweet things like that. He needs protein." Endeavor explained.
"You saying the kid has never had cake?"
"It's not good for him. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to attend to." Endeavor snapped.
"Ah, of course. Being No.2 must be very difficult. Well, I'll see ya around!" Hawks left the room gladly, not wanting to spend a moment longer in there. He cursed his younger self for looking up to such a gruff, rude man. 'Why?' he would ask past Hawks. There's got to be a time travel quirk out there somewhere, he thought humorously.
As he past through the hallways, his keen hearing picked up on small sniffles coming from a discreet room at the end of the hall. He carefully approached the door, heart shattering at the suppressed cries; it was the most desperate sound he'd ever heard from a human, and that's saying something considering he was a pro hero.
"Hello?" Hawks called out, knocking on the door, quiet enough so Endeavor would not hear but the occupant would. It slid open slowly, revealing Shouto. Although they were not currently teared up, Hawks could see the red rings framing those mis-matched eyes.
"Hawks-san?" The teen sounded surprised, as if he didn't expect someone to be concerned about his crying.
"Can I come in?" Hawks asked instead of exlaining his presence. Shouto nodded minutely, stepping aside to let the hero in. Hawks was shocked by just how bare the room was. No indication of the personality it's owner had. Traditional, plain, lonely.
"Did you need something?" Shouto asked politely.
"I don't think your okay." Hawks' golden eyes narrowed in on a bundle of bandages that had seemingly been stuffed under the futon in a hurry.
"I'm fine." Shouto insisted, not so subtly moving to block Hawks' view of the futon.
"Really, Shouto-kun?" Hawks questioned softly. For a second, the teen's expressionless mask cracked before smoothing over.
"Yes." Shouto said, but his tone was lacking the conviction.
"Then, what's on your back?" Hawks asked.
"I already told you; nothing." Shouto shot back.
"Shouto-kun, please, I want to help." Hawks whispered, leaning forward. "I won't tell your father, if that's what your worried about." The pro did have his sneaking suspicions that Endeavor has something to do with this.
"I-uh- have homework to do." Shouto announced quietly, eyes darting nervously around his room.
"Please, Shouto-kun." Hawks pleaded. Tears welled in Shouto's eyes, on the brink of falling but refusing to spill over.
"I-it's n-nothing." The teen stuttered, giving away his lie.
"Please..." Hawks begged again.
"My father just disciplined me, that's all." Shouto whispered, rubbing at his arm.
"How?" Hawks prompted softly. His concern was growing larger and larger as this conversation went on.
"W-whipping..." Shouto admitted eventually. Hawks suppressed a gasp. He'd known it from the instant he saw the marks, but for it to be confirmed was horrfying.
"That's not right." Hawks cried. Shouto flinched at the sudden noise increase.
"It's just d-discipline." The teen insisted softly.
"No, it's not. It's abuse." Hawks pulled Shouto in for a hug, wrapping him in his arms, strengthened by years of intense training.
"I don't know what to do." Shouto sniffed into his shoulder, let the dam of stoicism break. "I tried to tell him to stop- it hurt so much. But he said I was weak- I am weak!"
"You are not weak, Shouto-kun!" Hawks insisted. "You got second place in the Sports Festival!"
"T-that's what my father wasn't pleased about." Shouto whispered, clinging onto Hawks as if the hero was a lifeline. Well, in this situation he practically was.
"He should be proud!" Hawks announced, albeit quietly.
"What d-do I do?" Shouto questioned, voice think with emotion.
"I'm not letting you stay a moment longer in this house." Hawks answered. "You're coming back to my apartment."
"Wh-what?!"
"Well, we need to take a look at those wounds." Hawks gestured to Shouto's back.
"My father w-will notice." Shouto choked out.
"I don't give a crap about your poor excuse of a father." Hawks chuckled. "Can I carry you? Flying will be faster."
"O-okay." Shouto agreed. Hawks moved to pick the teen up, observing for any negative reaction, and, excluding a miniscule flinch, he did not get one. He swooped Shouto into a princess carry, wincing as the teen hissed in pain when Hawks' arm came in contact with his back.
"Sorry." Hawks whispered, Shouto held securely in his arms.
"'s okay." Shouto replied. Hawks slowly moved towards the window, opening it with a flourish and stepping out onto the small, wooden balcony.
"Ready?" Hawks asked.
"Yeah." Shouto replied. With two beats of his large crimson wings, the duo were in the sky. Wind ruffled their hair, an entirely familiar sensation for Hawks but the same could not be said for Shouto. The teen relished in the cool breeze, stark contrast to the burning pain his back provided.
"Let's get going." Hawks soared over the Todoroki household walls, climbing higher and higher so to not get recognised by any people far below. Wetness seeped into Hawks' hero costume, on the arm wrapped around Shouto's upper back.
"Oh crap, you're bleeding badly." He remarked, worry seeping his tone.
"I'm fine." Shouto replied.
"You weren't fine last time you said that." Hawks retorted softly.
"Ah, sorry." Shouto apologised quickly, automatically in a way that made Hawks' heart clench.
"Don't apologize, I'm messing with you." The hero ruffled Shouto's dual-toned locks. "We should probably get you to the hospital."
"No!" Shouto's voice took on a hint of fear.
"Why not?"
"I-" Shouto sighed. "Endeavor has friends at the hospital. They'd tell him if I was there."
"Ah right, I'll patch you up at my place then, huh?" Hawks chuckled.
"Sure..." Shouto trailed off, eyelids weighing down. Hawks picked up his pace, wary of blood loss and infection. The warm red continued to soak into the tan fabric of his jacket, but he didn't even spare a thought for the inevitable stain it would provide. If anything, he could just get a new costume. Every designer would jump at the chance of clothing the No.3 hero, especially him.
Shouto's normally sharp, intelligent eyes were clouded by a shining glaze, eyelids blinking in a way Hawks was not happy with.
"Just stay awake for me?" He coaxed the younger male gently.
"Mhm." Shouto agreed, somewhat sluggishly, but coherently. His back stung, every deep and shallow slash sending a course of pain through his body. Bruises throbbed on his torso, where he'd not been quick enough to dodge a kick and a hand-shaped burn was concealed under the sleeve of his shirt. Shouto knew he should've told Hawks about his other injuries, but lacked energy for said activity.
"Here we are." Hawks landed on a high-up balcony, in a discreet apartment building. Not somewhere one would expect the adored No.3 hero to live, but it gave of a much needed air of privacy.
Shouto hummed in acknowledgement as Hawks carried him through the sliding doors and into his apartment. It was humble, cozy, but brightly coloured, and smelt heavily of fried chicken. The word 'cannibal' briefly flitted in Shouto's mind before he mentally forced it away.
"How're you feeling?" Hawks asked, depositing the teen on the dusky red sofa.
"Fine." Shouto lied. His body ached incessantly, weariness summing up his entire existence at that second.
"Imma take that as a 'not so good'." Hawks laughed openly, feeling more at ease now they were safely away from that monster that paraded himself as the No.2 'hero'. Despicable.
Shouto huffed but didn't deny it, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the sofa. He so dearly wanted to relax into the orange cushions, but refused to let anything else come into contact with his back.
"I'll just get the first-aid kit!" Hawks announced, leaving the open room to go through a white door. Shouto wrung his hands, anything to distract him from the thoughts.
'You're a disgrace, Shouto!" Endeavor boomed as soon as he stepped in the door. 'Second place?"
'Better than not placing at all." Shouto reasoned.
'No son of mine shall take second.' Endeavor spat.
'You've taken second in the hero rakings.' Shouto pointed out, instantly regretting it. Endeavor's face darkened, turquoise eyes hardening.
'Remeber what happens when you misbehave...'
"--outo-kun? Shouto!" Hawks gently shook the boy by his shoulders, and Shouto jolted back into reality.
"Hawks-san?" Bleary heterochromic eyes met Hawks' warm golden ones.
"You spaced out there for a second!" Hawks explained.
'-second in the hero rankings.'
"Uh sorry." Shouto replied.
"It's okay. Can you take of your shirt- I need to see your back." Hawks asked softly. Shouto supplied him with a small nod. The teen carefully eased himself out the shirt, wincing and biting back cries as it slipped over the whip wounds.
"Holy shit." Hawks swore when he saw the state. Heavy bruising, hand-shaped burn, deep, oozing whip marks. Tentatively, he placed a hand on the boy's knee, rubbing it soothingly. "He's never gonna touch you again."
"Thanks..." Shouto smiled wearily.
"We should probably call your teacher." Hawks added, moving to rifle through the first-aid box.
"Aizawa-Sensei? Why?" Shouto questioned.
"To let 'im know what's going on. Plus, he'll probably want to cart your father off to jail." Hawks explained, grinning on the last sentence.
"Do you have his number?" Shouto asked.
"Yup! We sometimes discuss the League seeing as it has attacked your class before." Hawks set the first-aid box aside, instead scrabbling for his phone in his pocket. Once he'd successfully unlocked it, he searched through his long list of contact before eventually pulling up the underground pro's one.
It rung once.
Twice.
Three ti-
"Hello?" Aizawa's gruff voice petered out down the line.
"Eraserhead-san!" Hawks smiled, even though the named couldn't see it.
"What do you want? If it's about the League, I've given you all the information I can recall."
"No, no! It's not about that!"
"What then?"
"One of your students."
"Jesus Christ, they really can't stay out of trouble, can they?"
"It's not his fault!"
"His? I swear if it's Midoriya, I'm might just expel-"
"It's Todoroki Shouto."
"Didn't see that one coming... he's normally rational... What happened?"
"Well, he'd injured pretty bad. And it's his father who did it."
"Endeavor? He dare hurt one of my students?"
"Unfortunately yes. We're in my apartment right now."
There was a brief pause, and rustling of a coat, before Aizawa spoke again.
"I'm coming over."
"Okay, see ya soon."
"Bye." Aizawa hung up quickly. Hawks turned to Shouto, who looked extremely uncomfortable, with a slight tremble in his shoulders.
"Your teacher will be here soon." Hawks informed him. Shouto nodded absent-mindedly, hardly grasping onto what the hero said. Pain was overriding his senses, excruciating white-hot pain. Every single inch of him throbbed or burned or ached.
"O-okay." Shouto stuttered out.
"Let's clean you up, shall we?" Hawks smiled softly, pulling disinfectant cream from the first-aid box. "Actually... we ought to wash those wounds first." The cream was placed on the low wooden coffee table, and once again Hawks left to the bathroom.
This time he returned with a large blue bucket, and several flannels of varying whites.
"This might hurt a bit." Hawks warned, settling himself and the objects on the floor next to the sofa. Shouto didn't respond, instead choosing to focus on the chicken-embroidered cushion on the opposite end of the furniture. Hawks stood himself back up, and strode over to the cushion, picking it up and shoving it into Shouto's hands. Despite clasping onto it, the teen still looked at the hero with a confused expression.
"Might wanna hug that for this." Hawks explained, returning to his space. Shouto shifted so his back faced the hero, who dipped the whitest flannel in the warm water.
The first time Hawks wiped the flannel down a wound, all Shouto did was tense. But as the process continued, he had to choke down whimpers and cries.
"It's okay to cry." Hawks murmured, pausing his repetitive cleaning to place a reassuring hand on Shouto's shoulder. "Do you need a brea-"
Hawks was cut of by three short raps at the front door. Shouto's wide eyes found his ones, questioning and fearful.
"That's just Eraserhead, don't worry." Hawks stood up, ruffling Shouto's hair before walking into the hall. He hurried towards the front door, throwing it open and sighing in relief when it was indeed Aizawa looking back at him.
"Hawks-san." Aizawa greeted in a monotone.
"Eraserhead-san... this is bad." Hawks whispered, feeling guilty when Aizawa's dark eyes flooded with concern.
"How bad?" The underground pro questioned worriedly.
"Endeavor whipped him. And there's extensive bruising. And a hand shaped burn." Hawks spoke in a hushed, hurried tone.
"What the fuck? That bastard..." Muttered curses spilled out Aizawa's mouth, strung together into an angry murmuring.
"I thought you'd like to know, seeing as you are Shouto-kun's teacher." Hawks continued.
"Where is he?" Aizawa asked, referring to the injured teen.
"The living room." Hawks responded, and before he could blink Aizawa was off down the hall.
Shouto trembled on the sofa, clutching the pillow as footsteps approached. He would feel trails of blood weaving down his back, a distant throbbing of his other burns and bruises. A heavy fog settled across his mind, making it harder and harder to process his surroundings.
'Pathetic.' Endeavor roared. Shouto lay on the ground, clutching at his ribs. 'You must always pay attention!'
"Todoroki-kun?" A clear, concise voice cut through his flashback like a guillotine. Shouto looked up to find his homeroom teacher's concerned face studying him.
Aizawa almost cursed again when he saw the state of his student. For such a stoic powerful teen to be reduced to a pale quivering boy was worrying, and so incredibly infuriating he thought he might not be able to stop himself from marching over to Endeavor's house right that second and punching his smug face. Well, he had always hated flashy heroes.
But Aizawa kept his anger at bay, noting Shouto's injuries carefully yet quickly.
"Hey, Shouto-kun, you're okay." Aizawa reverted to first names, rightly guessing Shouto did not want to be associated with his 'father'. The pro ran a comforting hand up the teen's arm, tactfully avoiding the couple of marks that wound over his shoulder from his back.
Shouto was honestly shocked; he did not know his teacher has such a soft side. He had know that the man cared for his class, even if he pretended he did not, but it was amazing how gentle he could be.
The kindness was enough to break the dam, a salty tear slipping down Shouto's pale cheek.
"Oh Shouto-kun..." Aizawa carefully drew to the teen in for a light hug, not putting pressure on the bruises or cuts. "Did your father do this?"
"....yes." Shouto admitted quietly, wringing his hands.
"I'll never let that bastard touch you again." The pro said it with so much vigour, Shouto was finding it harder and harder to doubt him. Aizawa pulled away, rounding the teen to look at his back.
"We really need to get those cleaned." Hawks announced, entering the room with a soft smile for Shouto.
"Agreed." Aizawa nodded curtly.
"I'll do it, you two talk or somethin'." Hawks knelt down behind the teen, dipping a flannel into the bucket of water. Aizawa positioned himself on the sofa, in front of Shouto and grasped the youngest male's hands. Shouto's fingers sat limp in his for a couple of seconds, but when Hawks began cleaning again the teen could not help but squeeze Aizawa's hands tightly.
He bit his bottom lip tightly, choking down sobs that tried to rip themselves out an unwilling mouth. Everything hurt. Nothing made sense. Where was he? Why was he here?! What's going to happen?
"Shouto-kun, your breathing's getting a little fast. Breathe in for four, out for four." Aizawa commanded softly. Shouto caught on, inhaling heavily in time with Aizawa's exaggerated breaths.
"S-sorry." The teen stuttered out.
"Don't apologise, it's not your fault." Aizawa reassured. Rage and fury curled in his stomach, lashing out like a rattlesnake after it's prey. But he mentally doused it with water, washing it away so he could remain calm for Shouto. Although the fiery flames of hate could not be extinguished fully, they could be tamed into a burning torch of hope for the teen.
"Endeavor is never, ever going to touch you again." Aizawa promised, gripping Shouto's trembling hands tighter. "Never." Shouto did not respond, but he did squeeze Aizawa's hands back and offered a small, lopsided smile.
"That burn is going to need some burn cream." Hawks piped up, gesturing to the injury on Shouto's right forearm.
"I'll do it." Aizawa nodded his thanks to Hawks as the younger pro handed his the white tube of cream. He quickly unscrewed the lid, placing it on the coffee table and turning back to the teen. Shouto held his quivering arm out, and Aizawa gently took it in a soft hold.
"This might sting." The underground pro warned.
"Tis okay." Shouto murmured. Aizawa nodded, smoothing some of the cream over the burn. The teen suppressed a hiss of discomfort, trying to focus on anything but the wounds on his back and burn on his arms. The throbbing bruises brought some distraction, although only added to the unbearable pain.
Hawks winced in sympathy as he carried on cleaning the whip marks. He had half the mind to fly back to the Todoroki residence and punch Endeavor in the face... if only.
A few minutes later, the wounds had been thoroughly washed, and Hawks was placing large gauze over the boy's back. Aizawa had wrapped Shouto's arm in a bandage, and was holding his hands again.
"There we go!" Hawks announced, sitting back on his heels. "All done."
Shouto hummed in acknowledgement, while Aizawa sighed in relief. The teen shrugged his shirt back on, and inclined his head in thanks.
"You are never going back there again." Aizawa promised with so much conviction, it was impossible for Shouto to doubt his words.
A/N: There might be a part two, this was just getting quite long!