After listening to some feedback and giving it some thought, I have decided to split up the chapter into smaller parts. This whole thing is very much an experiment, which I guess also includes formatting? So, if you see a ton of chapter updates, just know that there is nothing new...just dividing up things.

Warning: This has dark themes that may not be suitable for some readers. If that makes you uncomfortable, this might not be the story for you, so it's okay to click away.

Double Warning: Hawks' personality in this story is extremely OoC. It may be weird or cringey. If that is not your taste, I recommend clicking away.

Triple Warning: This was an experimental piece for the purpose of narrative transitions and foreshadowing. It is long for those reasons, but it may be considered boring because of the length. It's understandable if you don't want to waste your time on something this long, so it's okay to click away.

Quadruple Warning: You have been warned, continue at your own discretion.

Birds of a Feather

Episode 1: Hunger

Chapter I: August 2nd

The rubble fell like rain; she was showered in debris. There was chaos and there was panic. Everyone was running, everyone was screaming, but she couldn't join them. She wanted to. She wanted to flee. She wanted to fly away as fast as she could, but she couldn't move. Her legs wouldn't listen to the horrified screech of her brain. Her white wings were tiny and frail; they were unable to carry her away. The ground was shaking; it was cracked, split open, torn apart. She stared up at the sky. It was dark; chunks of asphalt and iron rods were falling down. They were so clear, same as the semi truck barreling toward her like a rocket hailing from the atmosphere. Then suddenly her vision blurred. Colors swirled together like watercolors and she tried to focus, but it was difficult. Her eyes felt glued shut, and the last color she saw was red.

A bright, soft red that consumed her.

Birdie gasped, and her emerald eyes snapped open wide with terror. She shot up in bed, her breath shallow and quick as she recoiled from the nightmare. She was covered in sweat. Her pale skin was slick in it; it dripped from her nose and chin onto the thin white sheets that covered her lap.

The rush subsided as she inspected her surroundings. The color white was overwhelming; everything was white. It was soothing. The brightness filtered through the window and made the room glow. The walls, the tiled floors, the ceiling, and even the furniture, it was all white and sterile like the smell of disinfectant and bleach lingering in the air. The sensations made a new wave of dread wash over her when she realized where she was.

The whiplash of her nightmare stung. It scorched through her mind like a wildfire. It was not a dream, it was a memory.

Her anxiety skyrocketed as the unfulfilled feelings from that moment resurfaced and her body desired the ecstasy of escape. She leapt out of the bed, her little white wings desperately trying to improve her speed, and she made a break for it.

Then the door flew open, and Birdie collided with something that was extremely soft. It was like a springy cushion that pushed her back into the room.

"Miss Birdie!?"

A plump woman—no, a sheep of a woman stood in the doorway with a bewildered look in her beady black eyes.

Birdie was dazed by the sight for a second, but then she remembered that the world was filled with colorful Quirks. Even she had a pair of white wings thanks to her dove quirk; tiny useless ones, but wings nonetheless.

The stunned expression on the woman's wooly face hardened and she angrily huffed. She marched into the room and swiftly grabbed Birdie by the scruff of her hospital gown, hauling her back to bed.

"Don't you move a muscle now, honey," the woman scolded sternly as she pulled the sheets back over Birdie. "You ain't physically hurtin', but your mental state is shot. So, just simmer down while I do a little check up, you got that?"

Birdie nodded silently. The presence of another person calmed her nerves and she slowly collected her composure.

"Good," the woman grunted, but there was a confident gleam in her dark eyes. "They don't call me the Remarkaaaaable Nurse Sheep for nothin' now, honey."

Birdie blinked slowly.

Nurse Sheep ignored Birdie's baffled expression. The nurse rolled up the pink sleeves of her sweater over her elbows, revealing curly ivory wool on her forearms. Then she pulled a pair of green latex gloves over her pale white hands with a loud snap and got to work.

Nurse Sheep thoroughly inspected and probed Birdie. The nurse examined everything: Birdie's pulse, pupil dilation, blood pressure, heart rate, temperature and even some reflexes. After each little test, the nurse would hum a long note, then jolt down her conclusions on the clipboard she had on hand.

"There we go," Nurse Sheep scribbled down the last of her notes with a satisfied huff. "You're right as rain at the moment, Miss Birdie. It was a nasty little accident with the freeway bridge almost collapsin' on you, but you were rescued by quite the remarkaaaaable young man."

Birdie's eyebrow rose when she saw the little hearts fluttering around the nurse like anxious butterflies. "Um, who?"

"Why you were saved by Hawks, honey! Hawks!" Nurse Sheep gasped in pure delight, placing her hands to her blushing wooly cheeks. "The Winged Hero 'imself! He escorted you to the hospital personally like a perfect little gentleman savin' a damsel from dismay. Oh Lordie, I just right had a heart attack when I saw 'im cradlin' you in his arms so romantically!" The nurse paused to take in a deep breath and she fanned herself with her hand. "My, my, he's quite the dreamy little charmer, ain't he? Oh, my husband would be in a huff if he heard me swoonin' like this 'bout a younger man."

Birdie felt a little bead of sweat on her brow. She didn't know how to respond to that. Though, the one-sidedly awkward tension was quickly relieved by a few tiny beeps.

Nurse Sheep snapped back to reality; the little hearts buzzing around her head popped instantly. A hard expression crossed her wooly features and she dug through the pocket of her pink sweater, pulling out a small red beeper. She looked at the tiny screen with a sigh. "Duty calls, honey." She turned to Birdie with a small smile. "Once we finish up the rest of your tests and there're no issues, you're free to go, you got that?"

"...What if there is an issue?" Birdie asked softly and she anxiously fiddled with the sheet's hem. "I really can't afford to be in the hospital right now..."

Nurse Sheep closed her tiny eyes and exhaled sharply. "Don't worry 'bout it, honey," the nurse continued and she reached out to ruffle Birdie's ivory curls. "Just take it easy, and rest until I make it back, you got that?"

"O—Okay," Birdie mumbled, but she hardly felt reassured.

"Now rest," Nurse Sheep ordered firmly before she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Then Birdie was alone, and the silence opened her mind to ponder about how awful her situation was. Her memories of the accident left a lump in her throat and the idea of staying in the hospital gave her a headache. She didn't know how long she was unconscious for and she should have asked Nurse Sheep. The last thing Birdie remembered was leaving work late that night, but even that memory was blurry.

Birdie sighed, and she scratched the back of her head in frustration. She always tried to be positive, but she didn't know how to see the bright side. Her shoulders drooped and her little white wings went limp, dangling around her arms. All she could do was wait and hope the nurse would return soon.

Then her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened again. She didn't think her prayers would be answered so soon, but it was like a little glimmer of hope. Sadly, it was not Nurse Sheep, and Birdie momentarily forgot the nurse when she saw who was standing in the open doorway.

It was Hawks, the Winged Hero himself.

Red. Bright red wings that looked soft to the touch. The memories of him grabbing her, holding her tightly, and so closely to his chest, it came back. The memories flooded back to her when she saw his beautiful red wings.

Hawks was outfitted in his full hero gear. There were tiny green leaves in his messy blonde hair, and small cuts decorated his thick suede jacket and baggy pants. It seemed like the hero just got back from a minor altercation. Despite his appearance, Hawks calmly observed the room, his sharp amber eyes landing on her instantly. Then a large grin spread across his lips when he saw she was awake.

"Good after...noon..." Hawks' tone started out chipper, but then trailed off. His smile faltered and he frowned. His brows furrowed in thought as he looked down at the manila folder in his hands then back at her. "Birdie, was it? I hope you don't mind a visitor when you just woke up."

Birdie shook her head. "H—Hello..." she greeted him, and she subconsciously played with the white plumage of her tiny wing.

Hawks' smile returned as he closed the door to her room and stepped in. "Good to see you're making a speedy recovery." He continued brightly, strolling over to her bedside. "I visited earlier this morning, but you were still out cold. Nurse Sheep was pretty persistent 'bout visiting later. She even recommended...often?" He scratched his cheek in confusion, but then shrugged. "Whatever that meant."

Birdie groaned and she started to anxiously pluck loose feathers from her tiny wing. "O—Oh no, oh no, oh no..."

Hawks cocked his head to the side, a perplexed gleam behind his transparent blue visor. "What? Would you prefer the No. 1 Hero instead?" He teased with a coy grin. "I'm always second best no matter how fast I get, eh?"

Birdie yelped, grabbing a fist full of her feathers. An embarrassed blush stained her cheeks. "N—No! That's not what I meant!" Her fingers raked through her wing, making more loose feathers plummet to the floor. "It's just that—I just can't—" She paused, the red hue draining from her cheeks. "I just can't spend any time in the hospital..." Then a solemn expression overwhelmed her features. Her pale skin became whiter, and a dark shadow crossed her emerald eyes. She let go of her wing, her hands falling in her lap. "I don't have insurance..."

"..."

Birdie chuckled nervously, and she returned to plucking feathers from her wing. "Not the brightest idea, is it? But you know an apple a day keeps the doctor away..."

"..."

Birdie's attempt to defuse the tension failed. There was a moment of awkward silence between the two. Birdie felt his hot gaze like it was boring a hole through her soul. She focused her attention on the window and watched the white clouds lazily roll across the blue sky. His stare made her uncomfortable, just like the others that knew little about her situation. It was something she had to deal with, but every time made her feel even more shameful.

"...Don't worry," Hawks finally spoke. "I'll take care of it."

It was Birdie's turn to stare, burning a hole through him with amazement. Hawks didn't look a bit uncomfortable; he merely smiled.

"W—Wait? A—Are you serious? Y—You don't have t-t-t-to do that!" Birdie tripped over her words. "I—I really do appreciate it. Really appreciate it, but I don't know how long I'll be in the hospital and I don't want you to—"

"It's okay," Hawks' smile never faded. "You should be discharged soon after all."

"B—But—!"

"I said it was okay," Hawks emphasized the word as he cut her off, chuckling lightly. "Y'know what they say: don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

Birdie stared at him, bewildered and confused. She was unsure of how to process the sudden act of kindness from a stranger. She didn't like receiving such financial help from others, but it was either accept Hawks' offer or go into colossal debt that would ruin her life forever.

"...Oh, okay then," Birdie mumbled, and she smiled gently. "I'll accept your offer. Thank you very much."

For once she would discard her stubborn determination to be independent; the bill was already due. There would be no way to recover her finances if she paid for a night or more in the hospital out of pocket. Though, she had to figure out a way to repay Hawks for his kindness. The apparent lack of ideas made her fidget, and the dove returned to plucking loose feathers from her wing, adding more to the large pile already on the floor.

Then her eyes opened wide. "Wait!" She gasped, her wing flicking out of her hands and then both of them flittered wildly with excitement. "Did you say I will be discharged soon!?"

"Yeah," Hawks' smile brightened. "Nurse Sheep gave me your final test results and everything looks okay. Nothing abnormal at all."

The excitement melted from Birdie's face and she frowned, her cheeks turning white. "S—She gave them to you...?"

"A little strange, yeah?" Hawks chuckled stiffly, a small smirk on his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I was chatting with her on the way to your room, but she got called in for an emergency and asked me to play messenger," and he waved the folder in his hand as proof. It had her name stamped on the front, and it was thin with a few blue papers sticking out the side.

Birdie's little wings wrapped around her shoulders. It seemed odd, but she had to think rationally. Hawks was a hero. He was a trusted hero; the second best hero in the nation. He was a hero in so many ways: he saved her life and her financial crisis. Plus, Nurse Sheep had asked him. In the end, it took little to convince her, and she smiled at him. "Thank you," she told him again, and she bowed her head. "Thank you so much. For everything. I don't know how I'll ever repay you, but I will. I promise."

"Don't worry. It's the least I can do."

Birdie's brow furrowed and she looked back up at him. "What?"

Hawks heartily laughed and reached out to ruffle her ivory curls. "I got to save quite a pretty birdy last night," he chirped. "I was the one repaying you."

Birdie blushed at the compliment. Nurse Sheep was right: Hawks was a dreamy little charmer.

"You should be free to go at anytime," Hawks continued and he pivoted on his heel, making his way to the exit. "I'll handle the bills, so take your time and relax easy." Then he opened the door, but before he left, he looked over his shoulder with a smirk. "I'll see you soon, Birdie."

The smoothness of his words cut through her like butter. Her face started glowing like a red beacon in response. The little dove was so stunned by his words that she didn't notice him close the door and then five minutes later it reopened again.

"Honey!"

It was Nurse Sheep. The plump little sheep of a woman rushed into the room with a giddy look in her beady eyes. Laying over the nurse's arm was two familiar pieces of cloth. The first was worn leather, which was Birdie's trusted purse that had survived well through the years. The other was Birdie's strapless summer dress. Nurse Sheep threw the articles of clothing at the foot of the bed and then she grabbed Birdie's hand, holding it tightly with both her latex covered ones.

"Did you hear that!" The nurse was ecstatic with joy, jumping up and down like a lovestruck teenager. "He didn't even bother with sayin' anythin' 'bout hopin' to see you soon! He went straight for that sweet ol' confident direct approach of wooin' you! Oh honey, sweet little child, you are too damn lucky! I can't even handle it! Whoo-ee," Then the nurse started to fan herself with one hand. "This excitement is gettin' me all bothered. Ooh, I just can't even."

Birdie felt a tiny bead of sweat on her brow. "O—Oh..."

"Now, now. Now, now. Now, now." Nurse Sheep chanted as she composed herself. She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply, the aura of professionalism returning to her figure. "Did you get the word, honey?" The nurse then asked. "Did Hawks show you your file?"

Birdie paused, her cheeks losing color. "...Actually no, he didn't show me. He just...told me."

"Oh Lordie!" Nurse Sheep huffed, aggravated. She placed her hands on her hips and then shook her head. "He must of been so damned distracted bein' that darin' little charmer that he is that he forgot to give it to you."

"..." Birdie was at a loss of words.

"Well, at least that vixen told you." Nurse Sheep sighed. "I'll hafta hunt 'im down and snatch it. He knows better than to run off with my medical files. This ain't the first time he's accidentally done that."

Birdie restlessly shifted in her seat. "What a scatter brain... He's going too fast to realize he forgot his original mission," she chuckled, and she shakily plucked white feathers from her wing.

"Oh, honey, it ain't nothing to be worried 'bout." Nurse Sheep reassured the dove with a grin. "I've known that little charmer for years. He's a good boy. He'd never wanna see his Remarkaaaable Nurse Sheep in stitches, 'specially since I'm the one that stitches 'im up. I'm sure he dropped it off at the nurse's station, all bothered 'cause he didn't realize. He probably even told Bunny and BJ not to say a peep to little ol' me. Too bad for 'im I already know, but I may let it slide, just this once," and then the nurse winked at her.

Birdie paused, unsure of how to react. Though, seeing Nurse Sheep's carefree attitude helped the dove mimic the nurse's calm composure. Then she nodded.

"Now git on outta bed, honey." Nurse Sheep ushered Birdie to move. "I'm sure you got places to be and things to do. Hawks is takin' care of things down at the nurse's station. You'll just hafta sign some paperwork and we're outta your hair."

Birdie nodded again and quickly hopped out of bed as Nurse Sheep left the room to give her some privacy. The dove removed the hospital gown then put on her dress, smoothing out the bright orange fabric so the faded floral pattern of yellow marigolds wasn't wrinkled. Then she slipped on her black flats and swung her purse over her shoulder. The heavy pack thumped against her thigh, rattling the large arrangement of items inside. She quickly looked inside and saw that everything was the way it was the night before. She had her old orange wallet, the three tiny books she always had on hand, the little first-aid kit, but she could have sworn she had a bottle of tea. However, a missing bottle of tea wasn't as important as the other things.

Then she blinked when she felt something vibrating against her leg, and her emerald eyes went wide.

"My phone!"

She rooted through her purse frantically and fished out her cellphone out of the bottom of the bag. The plexiglas screen was riddled with fine cracks, but Birdie could see she had over two hundred unread text messages and about one hundred missed calls. Most of the notifications were addressed from a frantic Mrs. Ox, and a handful were from a concerned Mr. Ox, but her most recent one was from Manager Wolfe, her boss.

The little white bubble ominously read: where are you, 36?

Birdie pursed her lips, a bead of sweat trickling down her cheek. It was never a good sign when her boss referred to her as 36; it meant he was angry and her head was on the chopping block. The moment she texted either of the Ox couple, she knew they'd haul her back home. As much as it pained her, she ignored all messages safe for the one from her boss.

I was in an accident, she quickly typed away on the phone's keypad. Spent the night in the hospital, but I'm fine and allowed to leave. I'm heading to work soon.

Birdie waited, watching the little bubble with an ellipsis in the center.

Hurry, was all he wrote back.

Birdie sighed in relief. Then she tucked her phone back in her purse and rushed out of the room.

The hospital's white halls were wide and empty. The only sound to accompany the clicks of her heels was the hum of the large lights hanging from the ceiling. Then the noises suddenly bloomed as she got closer to the lobby. The halls became crowded with doctors in pristine lab coats, nurses in colorful scrubs, and patients being escorted by wheelchair.

Birdie entered the lobby through a set of heavy metal doors that automatically swung open. Tall windows overtook the front wall, spanning from corner to corner. The glass was like a canvas that depicted the busy cityscape outside; cars and buses zipped by on the street and people rushed across the sidewalk. The lobby interior was filled with rows of black chairs, and metal side-tables interrupted the leather pattern. A wide variety of people waited in those chairs, the different marvelous Quirks showcasing how curious the world had evolved.

Birdie shook off the wonder and approached the nurse's station beside the doorway. The station was surrounded by a tall pink counter, hiding the desks on the other side. On the countertop there were multiple trays of blank patient forms, cups of black pens, and three copper plaques.

One of the plaques was engraved with Nurse Sheep in sharp print while the other two had unfamiliar names. A single nurse was behind the counter, sitting directly in front of the plaque that was labelled Nurse Bluejay.

The nurse was lounging in her seat. Her knees rested against the edge of the desk, and her beautiful cobalt wings laid across her shoulders like a shawl. Her frizzy blue hair was sloppily pulled into a bun atop her head, and there were large bags under her blue eyes. The nurse had a blank expression on her face as she lazily scrolled through the feed on her large blue android.

Birdie stood there, waiting impatiently for the nurse to notice her, but Nurse Bluejay never looked up from her phone.

Time dragged on into an uncomfortable silence.

Birdie grabbed her wing, her fingers fiddling with loose white feathers. "I—I'm here to check out..." the dove finally spoke up, her voice crackling like broken glass.

Nurse Bluejay's thumb paused. The blank look warped into annoyance, and her sharp icy blue eyes inspected Birdie critically. Then the nurse rolled her eyes, and her large cobalt wings bristled when she pinched a paper between her thumb and forefinger. She held the medical form like it was a piece of rotten meat, and she slid it across the countertop with her fingertip. "Here," the nurse was short; the tone venomous with distaste.

Birdie fidgeted. She looked down at the release form, glancing over the records and saw that it was almost completely filled out with another hand safe for one blank spot at the bottom. The dove grabbed one of the pens from a cup on the counter and then scribbled her name down on the dotted line.

"Everything's set," Nurse Bluejay plucked the paper from the counter and then dropped it, letting the form flutter onto her desk. "You can go."

"...Thank you," Birdie bowed her head, but the nurse merely grunted and was glued to her phone again. Birdie clutched the leather strap of her purse. "Rough night, I take it?" The dove smiled weakly. "I hope I didn't cause too much trouble."

"Oh yeah, a sleeping log caused me so much trouble," Nurse Bluejay snorted and scowled at Birdie. Her sharp gaze pierced through the dove's soul. "I had to waste a shift caring for a charity case. So yeah, suuuuper rough night."

Birdie flinched, the harshness of those words cut through an old wound that never healed right. "W—What?"

"Whatever," Nurse Bluejay rolled her icy blue eyes.

"B—But," Birdie stuttered, trembling slightly. "I—I never asked for any of this."

"That's what charity means, dumbass." Nurse Bluejay sneered. "It's annoying to see what girls like you do to get his attention day in and day out. All for twisted love, their minute fame or buckets of money. I'm sick of it. I absolutely despise wasting my time with damned charity cases when I should be worrying about actual patients that need my help."

Birdie shifted uncomfortably on her heels as her heart fell into the pit of her stomach. There was a clear misunderstanding, but she couldn't find the words to defend herself. Anything she said would fall onto deaf ears; that's always how it worked. She should have never accepted Hawks' offer; she just shouldn't have.

"I'm sure your mama raised you better than that, BJ. That ain't any way to talk to a patient, you damn pill." Nurse Sheep suddenly appeared behind Nurse Bluejay and whacked the younger nurse swiftly upside the head.

"Ouch!" Nurse Bluejay seethed in pain. Her phone clattered to the desk as her hands clutched the back of her head.

Nurse Sheep sent the younger nurse a scornful glare. Then the older nurse's expression softened when she looked at Birdie. "Remember what I told you: he's a good boy and a little charmer to boot. So, you ain't got a reason to be shy or guilty for acceptin' his help, honey. Hawks' wanted to help you because he's thinkin' of your safety in more ways than one."

"Really, Sheep? Really?" Nurse Bluejay was not amused. The younger nurse eyed her senior angrily. "They are complete strangers. No one just pays for a stranger's medical bills out of pocket without a reason."

"Damn right, honey," Nurse Sheep was blunt.

"..." Birdie shifted awkwardly at the implication.

Nurse Bluejay's icy blue eyes narrowed into two sharp slits. "What the fuck are you trying to imply?"

Nurse Sheep cast aside the younger nurse's question with a wave of her hand. The older nurse turned her attention back to Birdie, a warm expression on her wooly face. "That's the way he is. So, don't let that kindness go to waste, you got that?"

Birdie pursed her lips and glanced away.

The kind words of the older nurse were genuine, but weak against the painful feeling building in the pits of her stomach. The dove mustered up a small amount of strength and smiled. "Yes, ma'am. Don't worry, I'll find a way to repay him for his kindness. It won't go to waste."

Nurse Bluejay rolled her eyes, unconvinced.

Nurse Sheep, on the other hand, smiled happily. "That's right, honey! I'm sure he's waitin' to see you again!"

Hawks had mentioned seeing her again, which put his very straightforward remark into perspective. She did say she would repay him, and she would be true to her word.

"Yup," Birdie nodded, her tiny white wings lively fluttering against her back. "I'll see him again when I can."

"Oh brother," Nurse Bluejay snorted.

"BJ," Nurse Sheep snapped, glaring at the younger nurse.

Birdie sighed, but a small smile pulled at the corner of her lips. She bowed her head to Nurse Sheep and said: "Thank you."

"Anytime, honey." Nurse Sheep grinned and reached over the counter to ruffle the dove's ivory curls.

Birdie waved goodbye to the nurse and then quickly exited the hospital. The hustle and bustle consumed her the moment she stepped outside. Birdie was caught up with the flow of the city, traveling with the rapids of swift feet. She rushed down busy sidewalks and crossed clear streets. In no time, she was outside the tall building that hosted the restaurant where she worked. She drifted from the flooded sidewalk and hurried down the side alley to the rear entrance.

Sous-Chef Frog was standing outside the metal door, leaning against the brick wall as he smoked a long cigar between his green lips. His large yellow eyes flickered and shifted as Birdie approached. "Lunch rush is over," he croaked roughly. "Take your time, Birdie. We heard the word, so chill."

Birdie clutched the leather strap of her purse and then nodded to the sous-chef. "Thank you, sir."

Sous-Chef Frog nodded in return and he opened the metal door labeled Wolf Den's Employee Entrance for her.

Birdie went through and entered the backroom. It was a small room nestled right behind the kitchen. The area was filled with the tasteful aromas of chicken stew, the restaurant's specialty. The backroom also housed a few lockers along the red walls, and a long shoji divider to change behind. A television sat on a wooden counter, along with a microwave and thee broken toaster. In the middle of the room was a small metal table and five matching chairs that rested on top of a shaggy green carpet.

Birdie went to her locker and quickly put on her uniform. She smoothed out the wrinkles of her white blouse, brushed the lint off her black dress pants, and adjusted her tiny green apron around her waist. Then she looked at the mirror hanging in her locker, tying up her ivory curls in a messy bun and clipping her long bangs to the side with a few bobby-pins. She did her best to ignore the bags under her eyes and smiled, her tiny white wings flickering happily. Then she bit her lip and glanced away from the mirror, her wings drooping against her shoulders.

She still looked like a mess, therefore she would be a mess. It was something she couldn't help, but it made her anxious. Her little hands started to shake, and she clasped them tightly to try and control the tremors.

You'll be fine, Birdie, she slapped her cheeks lightly to clear her thoughts. But it's hard not to worry… Just don't dwell, just don't dwell, just don't dwell. A rough morning does not mean a rough day. Yeah, that's right, Birdie. Birdie exhaled and mustered up a brave face as she pivoted on her heel, ready to face the day.

"...And that wraps up the weather report for the week. Looks like it'll be sunny skies with little chance of rain. It's that time of season for a bright but hot August summer. We'll be needing that warming atmosphere after the terrible accident that happened late last night."

Birdie paused.

Her emerald eyes opened wide and she stared, watching the broadcast intensely. The tiny CTR television on the counter was playing the news. The news about her very vague and rough night. Apart of her had hoped the night would remain obscure and be easily forgotten, but now she was sucked in and forced to see.

"After the initial investigation, the police department has finally made an official statement."

The image of the newscaster disappeared and was replaced with a clip of the police chief. The man stood tall behind the podium that housed a wide arrangement of microphones labeled with different news agency logos. He had the head of a boxer, but his Dog Quirk didn't affect his intimidating appearance; he still emitted an aura of authority as he spoke.

"Last night, heroes and police were in hot pursuit of villains that had stolen a shipment of valuable materials for creating hero gear and weapons, ruff." The chief addressed those listening. "To create a diversion, it is believed the villains caused an explosion while crossing the freeway bridge downtown. Heroes and police had to redirect their focus on rescue since there was a large population of civilians underneath the bridge. Luckily, with the courageous and swift talents of Hawks entering the scene, no lives were taken and the other heroes were able to chase and capture the villains—"

Birdie tuned out the police chief when a small clip of Hawks appeared. The winged hero dove from the heavens. His bright red wings grew smaller and smaller as his feathers dispersed, zigzagging through the debris to save innocent lives. Then Birdie saw herself; she recognized her vivid orange dress and tiny white wings. She just stood there, frozen like a statue as the world around her went to hell. Then Hawks grabbed her, flying quickly off screen as a semi truck hit the ground where she had been seconds ago.

Birdie anxiously fiddled with her green apron and stared at her feet, scuffing the top of one of her black flats with the sole of the other. The scene was surreal to experience, like watching one of her memories from the outside in. What was wrong with her at that moment? She couldn't answer that, and that gap caused a small wave of panic.

"36."

Birdie nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the low growl behind her. She whipped around, a dark shadow engulfing her tiny form and she looked up at her boss meekly. "Y—Yes, sir?"

The manager of Wolf's Den was tall, fit and had the head of a well-groomed wolf. The pristine black suit easily molded to his physique, highlighting and showcasing every muscle on his body. His grey fur was long, but the hair was styled with scented gel, making him look like a polished gentleman.

The manager glared down at her, his Wolf Quirk making him look even more frightening as he snarled. "Stop daydreaming," he snapped. "You have a job to do."

"Y—Yes, sir!" Birdie nodded and then she grabbed her wing, her fingers raking through her white feathers. "I—I'm sorry, sir."

The manager eyed her coldly, his long snout twitching from aggravation. Then a tiny bell in the distance drew his attention. He huffed and pivoted on his heel sharply, waltzing across the wooden floors with heavy footsteps. He left the backroom in three large steps, and Birdie shuffled after him quickly.

Birdie walked through the noisy kitchen and then stood at the back of the restaurant beside the server's station. She watched as the manager weaved around the decorative square tables and approached a young couple standing by the entrance.

"Welcome to Wolf's Den," the manager bowed deeply. His sharp tone had melted to something soft as he greeted the new customers. "Table for two, I presume? Please, follow me." The manager guided the couple to a small table by the front window. His long arms easily pulled out the chairs for each patron and then he magically produced two menus from his sleeves; the trick left the couple in awe. "A server will be with you shortly," the manager told the customers with a warm smile and bow. Then he turned around, the soft expression hardening when he looked directly at her.

Birdie flinched under his icy glare and she subconsciously started to prune the loose plumes in her wing. She hadn't started work yet and was in trouble already.

"Birdie?"

She was startled by the sudden voice. Her wing flicked out of her hands and smacked the person behind her. Birdie whirled around with a gasp, and an apologetic gleam crossed her emerald eyes. "Sorry, Fox... I got a little spooked..."

Fox brushed away white feathers clinging to his tan nose and cheeks. He gathered the little plumes, adding them to the collection already in his hand. He smiled softly, his brown eyes warm enough to calm Birdie's anxieties. The fuzzy red ears sticking out from his curly brown hair started to twitch slightly, and his tail flicked back and forth.

"You're jumpier than usual," Fox worriedly frowned. "I guess it would be a given, though..." and he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Are you even okay, Birdie? You had one hell of a night. I'm honestly surprised you came to work after what happened..."

Birdie groaned as she grabbed her wing and started to pick loose feathers again. "Please don't remind me. I want to pretend that it never happened. I just need to get through work, then go home and hit the hay. Sleep is the world's reset button, you know?"

"Come on, Birdie... I can tell you're worried." Fox sighed, easily reaching out to catch her feathers so they didn't make a mess on the floor. "I know your financial issues are...troubling," he said as he stuffed the little feathers in the front pocket of his green apron. "But taking one day off isn't going to kill you. I'm sure Manager Wolfe would have let you go home. Hell, he probably would of personally driven you."

"Not when he's in this scary mood," Birdie mumbled, rapidly plucking more feathers from her wing, but Fox was still quick to catch them. "He's so snippy from stress I think he might snap me in half. He's even calling me 36. That's always a sign that someone's going to get fired..."

"It's gonna be a stressful week." Fox sighed again, this time the note was long and filled with annoyance. "We're understaffed since Pidgey up and quit. The delivery truck was unluckily on the collapsed bridge. All the menus had to change to fit with locally bought ingredients. The regulars were in a huff this morning and afternoon about not having their usuals..." he trailed off for a moment to utter a weak chuckle. "It was not a happy place, you're lucky you missed it."

Birdie smiled sheepishly. "Sorry," she apologized. "No. 36 is here now, so you don't have to bear that burden alone anymore, No. 1. Let's do our best."

"Of course," Fox replied with a wide grin and then stepped aside with a small bow. "Ladies first."

Birdie nodded and walked onto the restaurant's main floor to begin her day.

Work was difficult, stressful and nerve-wracking, but on a different level than normal. She doubled her record of incorrect orders in the first thirty minutes and spilt triple the amount of drinks. One even got on a customer; he was covered in orange juice from head to toe. She got an earful for her clumsiness and the stink eye from the manager. If it wasn't for Fox, she felt like she would have lost her job by now. Fox was a smooth talker. He could calm even the most livid of customers with just a single smile. He was the perfect server, and he was saddled with the absolute worst.

"Today was not the best, you two." Manager Wolfe spoke to the servers sternly. He paced back and forth in front of them, walking intimidatingly slow with his hands behind his back and his head held high. "There were many...accidents."

Birdie winced, closing her eyes tightly when she heard the sharp tone of his voice. She braced herself for a scolding.

"The Wolf's Den may be small," Manager Wolfe continued. "But it is a business connected to the mighty Wolfe Empire. It upholds a high standard of service, and I do not want to dishonor my family name. Tomorrow I expect to see better. Understood? 36? No. 1?"

"Yes, sir." The servers said in unison, but one voice was weaker than the other.

"Good," Manager Wolfe stopped his pacing and nodded in approval at the two servers. Then he adjusted his suit jacket and looked down at the golden watch around his wrist. "I have other matters to attend to and shall take my leave early. You two close up shop."

"Yes, sir."

Manager Wolfe made a quick exit through the back, leaving Fox and Birdie to follow through with his final orders. Fox was always in charge of clearing and resetting the tables, washing the large windows, and tidying the long bar and it's wide arrange of glasses. Birdie was left to sweep the floors; it was the only task the manager trusted her to do. When the two were finished, they removed their uniforms, hung them up in their lockers and put on their normal clothes. Then they left through the back exit, taking the tiny side alley to the main street.

The sun had set and the black sky was void of stars, but the brightness of the nightlife made the city a colorful new place. Dozens upon dozens of people roamed the streets, eagerly walking to their next destination. They wore flashy clothing and accessories, the vivid fabrics and glossy metals sparkling in the neon lights of signs hanging from buildings. It made Birdie and Fox stand out among the night dwellers. Birdie was back in her comfortable orange strapless dress, and Fox merely wore a blue beater and black shorts. They practically looked like commoners among royalty.

"Phew!" Fox wiped the back of his hand across his brow, removing the layer of sweat that accumulated on his tan skin. His red tail flickered back and forth in annoyance. "It's hot out tonight, huh, Birdie? I would have liked a little breeze to walk home in after today...though," he paused and sent her a kind smile. "Despite all the setbacks, it was still a pretty solid day, don't you think?"

Birdie fiddled with the thick leather strap of her purse, and she was silent as she stared down at the sidewalk.

Fox's red ears drooped, and he cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"You don't need to be coy..." Birdie mumbled meekly. "I was awful, and it got you in trouble, too."

Fox sighed. His tiny smile faded into a frown, but there was still a warm twinkle in his brown eyes. "I'm not going to blame you for anything," he stepped closer and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Not even Manager Wolfe yelled at you. I mean, he gave you the look because he was stressed, but he knows you had a bad day and were trying your best. I mean, you're not even trained to be a server; you're supposed to be our hostess. You're really stepping up when we're understaffed, so it's the thought that counts. He knows that, and I know that, too."

"...Thank you," Birdie bowed her head to him. Then she looked back up, smiling softly. "Tomorrow I'll do better. I promise. Sleep is the world's reset button, remember?"

Fox remained silent for a moment. He stood there with a look of concentration brimming in his brown eyes. He was focused, very focused, and focused on her. His red ears twitched, and then his hand touched her cheek. "Birdie..."

Birdie froze, unsure of how to react to the sudden touch. His palm was warm. Her body was drawn to the comforting sensation and she didn't move away.

"Do you..." Fox started, but then trailed off. He pursed his lips in thought before continuing. "Do you want me to walk you home? Or at least to the station? I know you don't want me seeing where you live, because, y'know..." then he stopped again, pulling his hand away to sheepishly scratch the back of his head. "I'm really sticking my foot in my mouth, aren't I?"

"It's okay," Birdie smiled softly. "I know what you meant. Thank you for being considerate."

"I'm just really worried about you, Birdie." Fox frowned. "I want to at least make sure you get home okay. Even if it's only part way."

"I—I'll be okay," Birdie replied shakily. Something caused a sense of dread to creep into her mind. It was an invisible monster she couldn't see, but she could feel it clawing at her brain. She took a tiny step back, holding her hands up in defense. "I'll be okay."

Fox frowned. "You're shaking," he murmured gently. "You were shaking all day. Don't think I didn't notice."

"I—I didn't even know I was..." she chuckled weakly, an uneasy grin on her lips. "N—No wonder I was a complete mess..."

"Birdie," Fox's tone was firm. "You went through an experience no one should have to go through. It's okay to be scared. You don't need to put on a brave front. It only worries me more. So please, for my peace of mind, let me walk you to the station."

"I—If it's just to the station, I think it would be fine," Birdie stuttered and she reached for her wing, her fingers clutching her white feathers. "B—But just to the station."

Fox smiled, a relieved expression crossing his features. "Of course," he nodded. "Just to the station."

Then he held out his hand for her.

Birdie stared in shock, looking between him and his outstretched hand repeatedly. She processed what was happening and she shifted uncomfortably for a moment, but then hesitantly accepted. His palm was warm against hers and the sensation was welcoming. It relaxed her nerves. She felt calm as they walked hand in hand through the night. Fox had chosen a different path, something that was far away from her usual path; the path that had the accident. It was darker and quieter, but she didn't mind. She felt safe with Fox by her side.

"Can you wait here a minute, Birdie?" Fox suddenly stopped and let go of her hand.

Birdie froze, glancing around the dark and lonely street. The unfamiliar setting was sinking in; she felt like she was quickly drowning in a rush of anxieties. "W—Why?"

Fox sent her a kind smile and placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them with comfort. "Just going to get us some water. It's still pretty hot and we should stay hydrated."

Birdie bit her lip and she started to tremble, but she mustered up all her strength to smile. "O—O—O—Okay," her stutter was getting worse. "I—I'll b—be waiting h—here. B—By—By myself..."

"Five minutes," Fox put up his hand in a reassuring manner. "Just five minutes and I'll come running back. It will be like I never left, okay?"

Birdie shakily nodded and then watched Fox leave her side, disappearing around a corner. She stood still in the darkness, frozen like a statue. She focused on breathing evenly, but it wasn't helping. Fear crept into her bones; it cackled ominously like a monster climbing up and down her skin.

It hurt to breathe; her lungs were under pressure and they labored for air. Birdie hugged her arms tightly, her nails digging into her skin. She tried to stop the shaking.

It's fine, Birdie, she thought to herself. Are you sure about that? Of course, I'm sure about that! Everything is fine. There is nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing wrong. It's just a little dark out, Birdie. You can be alone for five minutes in a dark unfamiliar place. It's just five minutes. Just five minutes, Birdie. It's not like Fox couldn't have taken you with him, but it's okay. Fox will be back soon. Then everything will be better. Everything will be bett—

Pop!

The metallic roar made her scream at the top of her lungs and she instinctively dropped to the ground. She curled up into a little ball, burrowing her head in her knees. She covered the back of her head with her hands, and her little white wings shuddered against her shoulders.

Crrrr—ack.

A manhole cover pierced the street right beside her, the thick metal slicing through the asphalt with ease.

Birdie yelped, tears in her emerald eyes as she desperately scrambled away, crawling to the nearest wall her hands could find. She clung to the bricks, her body trying to blend into the shadows when she watched in horror as a dark figure emerged from the manhole.

"Ssssssssssssssshit. Did I lossse 'em?"

The extremely tall and lanky man seethed, his long forked tongue peeking out with every word he said. He reeked of sewage waste and his tattered jeans and hoody were drenched in the foul liquid. He looked around the alley frantically, his reptilian eyes flickering across the shadows. Then the darkness dissolved and the alley was flooded with bright light. The lanky man hissed and he shielded his eyes from the spotlight above. "Ssssssssshit!"

A helicopter hovered above the rooftops, the police logo painted on the sides. The heavy piece of machinery was locked onto the villain and the sound of sirens got closer and closer.

"Damnit!" The villain panicked. His golden eyes were wide with fear when he looked down the alley at the main street.

Police cars screeched to a stop one by one, the asphalt smoking from the tread marks. Then officers leapt from their cars and started to charge. The exit was completely blocked, and the ground shook from all other directions as a stampede of feet drew closer and closer.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit!" The villain roared and was ready to jump back into the manhole, but then something caught his eye.

He saw the bright orange fabric of her dress and a devious sneer crossed his lips. The viciousness in his golden eyes made the dove flinched and more tears rolled down her cheeks.

The police were closing in. They poured out of the narrow alleys and onto the small street. The men in blue sped toward them, but the villain darted to the dove and instantly had her in a choke hold. A knife flicked from his stained sleeve and into his scaly hand. Then he held the blade to her neck.

"Don't come over 'ere!" The villain hollered and pressed the sharp edge to her skin, blood slipping down her throat.

The police paused, the men reluctantly listening to the demands.

The villain purred in satisfaction as he slowly slithered to the manhole with Birdie as his shield.

Birdie couldn't move, she couldn't scream, she didn't even want to look. She closed her eyes tightly and prayed. She prayed for someone or something to save her; anything to answer her silent plead for help.

Her answer was a scream, but it was not her own.

There was a blood curdling shriek that pierced through her. It was raw and full of agony right beside her ear. Then the cry was dulled by the sound of rushing wind. Something heavy collided with her, but she was swept away with the force.

She was embraced by a pair of strong arms. She was held so tightly. She was so close to her savior's chest. She felt as light as a feather. When she dared to open her eyes, she saw red.

A bright, soft, and beautiful red.

Feathers floated around her, the red plumes roosting back in the large wings that beat against the wind high above the ground.

Hawks.

She was cradled protectively in his arms.

The collar of his heavy suede jacket was buttoned up to cover his mouth, but she could still see his eyes. They were blank, void of all emotion as he watched the scene below.

There were red feathers surrounding the villain on the street. The police had tackled the scoundrel to the ground, restrained him with handcuffs and confiscated his weapons.

When Hawks noticed her looking, his expression changed. He closed his eyes and his eyebrows arched as he happily chirped: "What a familiar feeling this is, yeah? When I said I'd see you soon, I didn't think it would be over this, but it's a nice way for me to end the day."

Birdie was silent.

The warmth in Hawks' eyes vanished and he held her tighter in his arms. "...You're shaking."

Birdie nodded dumbly.

"..."

Hawks stared at her for a moment before looking away. He surveyed the scene below and then with two solid flaps of his wings, the hero moved forward and then landed on the sidewalk of the main street. He carefully placed Birdie down and he stood close, inspecting the tiny cut on her neck.

"It's not too deep," he concluded. "Nothing that needs a trip to the hospital. Just make sure to clean it and put a bandage on it when you get home, okay?"

"O—Okay..." Birdie sniffled as she wiped away the tears clinging to her cheeks. Then she shakily grabbed his hand, squeezing his gloved fingers tightly. "Th—Thank you..."

"..."

There was a long pause as they stood there. Birdie took deep breaths in and out. She collected her composure and Hawks' presence was calming her nerves. When she could breathe easy, she let go of his hand and took a tiny step back.

"I'm sorry..." She murmured, sheepishly grabbing her wing and she played with the tiny white feathers. "I'm...I'm not good—"

Hawks held up his hand. "I get it," he told her. "No reason to explain. It's not everyday you get taken hostage by an armed villain. But," he paused, his eyes filled with a kindness and confidence. "Rest easy. With heroes like me around, hopefully it never happens again. I am working hard to make the world a safer place."

"Of course," Birdie bowed her head quickly, blushing slightly. "Thank you for all your hard work."

"It's all apart of the job," Hawks chuckled lightly. "Now run along," he teased, playfully shooing her away. "You don't want to miss your train home, yeah?"

Birdie blinked, processing his words and then her eyes flickered open wide. "You're right! I really should be going now or I'll miss my—!"

"—Wait!"

Birdie lost her footing because the ground suddenly gave out beneath her. Hawks reached out in a flash to grab her arm and pulled her back to safety. Birdie collided with his chest, slightly dazed. Then she created distance between them and took a moment to stare down into the darkness of the manhole that was conveniently open with a sign beside it that read: men at work.

"Here I thought third time's the charm was a lucky phrase..." Birdie fidgeted and grabbed her wing, shakily plucking loose feathers.

"Fate must really be upset with you," Hawks mused grimly. "I can't even imagine what you did. Karma must be pretty bad, huh?"

Birdie was silent for a moment; at a first glance that is what it seemed like. With how crappy her life had been, why would karma be out for her? Then she pursed her lips and shook her head. "Or...Or maybe fate is on my side for once," she looked up at him fondly. "You were there for me every time. I'd be a goner without you."

Hawks' eyes opened wide in shock; his collar was hiding his mouth, but she could sense that his jaw went slack.

"Thank you very much for saving me, Hawks," Birdie bowed to him respectfully, and when she looked back up at him, she smiled softly. "And I'm sorry for causing you more trouble. I still need to repay you for your help at the hospital. I'm just racking up the bill now, aren't I?"

The initial shock on his features died down quickly and was replaced by a blank look. It was the same hollow expression he had before. Then a dark shadow suddenly crossed his amber eyes.

Birdie shifted anxiously where she stood; he didn't appear happy with what she said. She knew people got annoyed with her ill-timed jokes, but the humor was aimed to lighten the mood on her hardships. She never saw someone get so upset, and she didn't know how to escape his transfixed stare.

"Ma'am?"

The rough voice broke the spell, and Birdie looked away from the hero and toward an officer that approached. The officer's blue uniform was disheveled and wrinkled, and his canine face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, clinging to his yellow fur.

"I'm Officer Y. Labrador," he introduced himself briefly. He took off his hat, placed it over his heart and then bowed his head. "I'm here to make sure you're alright," he continued as he replaced his blue cap back on his head, adjusting it to sit comfortably on his floppy yellow ears. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" He then asked, eyeing her neck worriedly.

Birdie shook her head and covered the light wound with her hand. "I'm okay, sir. It's just a tiny cut I can take care of at home. I just want to get back in one piece at this point..."

Officer Labrador was silent for a moment. His floppy ears twitched as he inspected her closely, but then he nodded. "I will assign another officer to drive you home."

"Yes!" Birdie's little white wings fluttered with excitement. "Yes, please! That would be lovely, sir!"

"..."

Hawks was silent during her exchange with the officer, but she could feel it. He was still staring at her with so much darkness in his amber eyes; she didn't know what she did to earn just a wrathful glare, and she didn't want to find out.

"Just wait here, ma'am," Officer Labrador continued. Then the soft expression on his canine features hardened when he glanced at Hawks. "And Detective Shepherd wants to see you," he growled, baring his sharp teeth in irritation. "He's not thrilled that you broke the fugitive's leg."

Hawks mechanically turned to face Officer Labrador, but said nothing. That blank look in his eyes remained. They looked like a hollow void. Then the hero followed the officer to the side street, disappearing into a sea of policemen. Then it was just Birdie. The dove was left alone to shudder at the unknown thoughts going through the hero's head.