Hawks was four minutes late to his own press conference. He'd been behind the back door to the room, wearing a nice suit, his wings carefully tucked behind him and laced through the holes sewn into the back of his coat. He had been ready to go until he began to hyperventilate. And until he began to cry.

After a few minutes of suspenseful chatter from too many people behind too many cameras, Mirko got up from her spot in the front most row (next to Aizawa, who was also attending) and opened the door to check on him.

She found him cornered in the small room sobbing, rubbing the sides of his biceps with his arms folded over his chest, trying to soothe his anxious body somehow by rocking slightly.

She immediately rushed over, closing the door behind her.

"Hey, I know you're anxious. I know this is fucking terrifying, but it's going to be fine." She said as Hawks leaned forward to accept her hug.

He was shaking terribly as he let out another sob into her shoulder, "I'm so scared. I am so scared." He whimpered. He felt so pathetic. Hell, he looked pathetic, but it was all raw emotion. He felt so horrified at the notion of standing in front of a crowd of people who just wanted to strip him of his privacy.

"Look man, you've gotta go out there. I know this fucking sucks but we'll treat ourselves to some ice cream afterwards, okay? Remember you don't have to answer anything you don't want to answer, and you can tell them you have that right. Okay? Kiego, you can do this." Rumi said confidently, hoping the same aura would infect him.

And surely enough it did. His tears slowed, and with her help he stood up.

He couldn't do anything about his puffy, clearly post crying eyes, or nasally voice, or runny nose as he opened the door and walked up onto the small stage littered with microphones.

Immediately the chatter in the crowd rose, people began firing questions at him.

He cringed slightly, blinking harshly at the cameras and bringing a hand warily in front of his face.

He took a deep breath and leaned forward slightly, "please stop for a second. If you could raise your hands for questions that would be great but first i'd like to open with a statement." He paused and glanced down at Mirko and Aizawa, who gave him approving looks. (Well as approving as you can get from the usually grayscale, monotone, emotionless Eraserhead.)

"I have a right to not speak about anything I do not feel comfortable speaking about." He continued, gazing over the crowd of reporters and some townspeople who were just interested in his story, "I've been forced into a place where I cannot properly preform my job because the press will not stop bombarding me with questions and I would like to clarify I did not want to do this, I do not feel-" he paused with a shaky breath, "I do not feel ready to share any of the information I am about to disclose, but for my own safety and the safety of others it needs to be done. I'm going to start by addressing some of the main questions every single reporter tries to ask me, and then you can ask for details from there."

He paused for a moment to let the words sink in. He'd created an intense atmosphere. People were picking up that something very serious had happened. Something seriously bad.

"The Hero Public Safety Comission were not just the people I worked for and was directed by. From the age of 5 until I was 18 they were my legal guardians. I was sold into the business of heroes by my parents when I was very young and raised and trained by the people at the commission for about as long as I can remember." He already felt his voice shaking. He swallowed dry spit and went on, "however, by the time I was eighteen and could finally legally get away from the abuse I experienced under their care, they had me in a place where I was completely dependent on them for housing and food. They controlled every aspect of my life. I was completely stuck with them. Besides the harsh training and punishment they put me through, every time I didn't make it to a scene on time or had to miss a day of work my pay was cut to the point where before I...." He took a very deep breath at the reality he was about to truly set in stone. Shivers set up and down his spine and he noticed his hands trembling with nerves.

"Before I tried to commit suicide I was getting paid about 25 cents for every scene I handled, then my payment came at the end of the week and it equated to a total of about 30 dollars for handling 120 scenes. Just to compare, some of my current coworkers who work within the agency I run, are getting paid nearly a thousand dollars a week for the dangerous, and necessary work they do." He stopped and swallowed harshly, "With the help of pro heroes Mirko and Eraserhead, I was able to put together a case of evidence and sue the comission for child abuse, child endangerment, and a plethora of other things involving money that I don't remember very well. I would like to put forward my greatest gratitude to the two heroes who saved me when I couldn't save myself." He said, wiping his eyes slightly afterwards, tears blurring his vision too much to read any more of the smudgy bullet points he'd written on his hands, "questions?" He asked, then pointed at a reporter in a yellow blazer.

"Can you expand on the, quote 'harsh training and punishment' unquote, you were put through?"

Hawks glanced to Mirko nervously. She showed him a deep breath and mouthed.

You don't have to answer.

But he did. They'd never stop if he didn't.

He followed her directions, took a deep breath, and began to explain.

"Because of the a-abuse I was put through, I don't remember the bulk of my childhood. This is due to dissociative amnesia, a condition I am diagnosed with. So I can't fully expand on what training was like in my adolescence. Uhm.. nevertheless, I know I was beaten and whipped as punishment. I have permanant scarring on my back from being beaten with what I've been told was probably belts when I was younger. A lot of the time they taped my-" he paused to quickly wipe a tear that tried to escape down his cheek, "m-my hands and ankles together and would s-" he let out a hiccup, "s-sorry."

His eyes were squinted and downcast and his mouth was tight in a slight frown as he willed away tears. He felt his breaths quickening and did his best to slow himself down and continue. Everyone in the room was silently horrified.

He continued with a shaking breath.

"They'd fill the- the sink up with water and push my-... push my head under, I vaguely remember having a lot of l-lung issues because I would breathe in so much water so often. They stopped doing it so much after that and that was probably when I was maybe like 13..?" He trailed off, trying to place the vague story he knew somewhere on a timeline, but it didn't fit right anywhere.

"It got worse as I got older. They've purposely cut me, b-burnt me, uhm- pretty much everything you can think of they have done. I was- I was sick f-for a week once and when I got back I had to be out for another week because they chained me up to a wall and clipped my wings, which if you're familiar with bird terminology, you know that's what they do to household birds to keep them from flying and it was incredibly painful, and even though it was their fault I couldn't fly, they still cut my pay more for not being able to do my job. So, that probably explains most of the evidence for why I sued them." He said, his voice shaking. He felt his nerves in his throat and genuinely hated every second he had to stand on this platform and expose himself to the press.

After he finished speaking hands went back up. He called on another reporter who asked him about a topic he really did not want to discuss.

"Is the abuse you suffered at the comission the reason you attempted suicide?"

Hawks felt his stomach flip nervously, "yes, they were the root of the problem."

He called on another.

"You mentioned you were diagnosed with disassociative amnesia, are there any other conditions you are diagnosed with?"

He looked nervously to Mirko and Aizawa.

"Am I allowed to answer that?" He asked awkwardly fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves on the surface of the small podium. They both shrugged.

"I am diagnosed, medicated, and seeing a therapist for post traumatic stress disorder, depression, anxiety, and dissociative amnesia, as I said before."

"Don't forget panic disorder!" Mirko called jokingly, her legs crossed as she sat in the first row of folding chairs, knowing it would get a little chuckle out of Hawks.

He smiled a little at her antics, too anxious to laugh out loud, "yes, and panic disorder. Shall I mention recovering from an alcohol addiction as well?" He said with a grin, pretending like he was talking only to Mirko, who clapped loudly for him, "AND YOU ARE?"

"Three months clean, baby!!" He exclaimed happily, the joy finally reaching his eyes.

A couple other people began to clap and soon there was applause from the meeting hall. Hawks took a comedic little bow, his hair flopping into his face slightly as he bent his head down.

He was smiling when he came back up.

"Do you have any comment on the new charges being investigated into your boss?"

Hawks looked confused at the reporter, "what charges?"

"He's being investigated for sexual misconduct against a minor."

And just like that Hawks was being pulled into dissociation as some part of his mind went into an unconscious defense mechanism. His face went pale and emotionless for a second and he struggled to remember was the answer he wanted to give was.

"That's terrible." He said slowly, his eyebrows furrowing, looking over to Mirko and Aizawa nervously. Both looked tense in their seats, seeing that he looked suddenly unwell.

"Uhm... Erm... No comment I guess. I hope any victim to him is safe and being cared for" He answered after a minute.

"Did he ever do anything similar to those alligations to you?" The reporter asked.

And that's when he finally fell completely out of it, staring blankly into space and losing all awareness of his surroundings. Everything sort of whited out as he fell back into his mind.

Had that happened to him? If it did he had no memory of it. It scared him that something like that could have happened to him and he had no clue. He had no clue. It could have happened and he had no idea.

------

After a second of Hawks staring blankly, Mirko climbed up onto the small podium.

She carefully rubbed the hero's back in between his wings, his calm spot, but when it garnered no result she knew he was really really out of it.

"Ok, let's get you somewhere quiet for a few minutes." She said, speaking to him like he could hear and leading him carefully off the podium. She could tell he wasn't there and his body was moving completely on autopilot, simply following her vague guidance.
-------

The next time Hawks was aware, it was when something cold was on his neck and he was suddenly sitting down somewhere. The lights were dimmer.

He blinked and looked around slightly, "huh?"

"Hey... Kei... You there?" Rumi asked softly. She had been sitting next to him, rubbing his back. She was the one to start holding a cold waterbottle on his neck.

He looked around strangely, "what? I'm here. I'm okay," He said, "where am I?"

"We just took you to the room you started in, you dissociated big time." She said slowly.

He took a minute to remember what had transpired, "right. Yeah, no I don't know what came over me. I think it's just that fact that if I got-" his voice cought, "you know if something like that had happened to me- I mean I really have no idea!" He said, shrugging awkward to try and hide his tears.

Mirko pulled him into a hug and he hugged back weakly.

"How long was I out for?" He asked.

"Not too long, 10 minutes ish. Are you back all the way?" She asked, "I know it can get kinda fuzzy sometimes."

"It's a little fuzzy. Do you think I can try to finish?" He asked.

Mirko shrugged, "if you're up for it."

And so he did. He exited the room and went back up onto the podium. Mirko and Aizawa went back to their seats.

But suddenly with all the lights and cameras he felt hot and sweaty and overwhelmed and like he was quickly slipping away again.

"Uhm- ok. Wow. Sorry about that" He stuttered. Somehow the crowd had thickened and that made him nervous, "I'm going to wrap this up soon, but I can take a few more questions."

"What is the status of you and pro hero Mirko's relationship!?" Someone shouted.

"BESTIES!" Mirko shouted.

"We're just friends, best friends, but just friends. I've clarified this multiple times. Stop asking" He responded.

"Is it true you're living together?" Someone else yelled.

"We don't live together anymore, but I did live with her for a couple months while I was getting back on my feet. My apartment was ransacked by the commission after I got out of the mental hospital, she was my emergency place to stay, and I just stayed there. I have my own apartment again now." He answered.

"What were your parents like?" Someone else shouted.

"I dont want to answer that." He said sternly, shivering at the thought of his druggie and alcohol addicted parents that had treated him like shit and neglected him so severely he'd only seen outside of his house once or twice before the age of 5.

"Do you have a history of alcohol abuse?" Someone else asked, "are you still reliable as a hero?"

Hawks took a deep breath, "genetically I'm prone to addiction, and when I was in that hard space in my life I developed a terrible habit of abusing alcohol, I suffered for it and my quality of work went down but assure you, I made a promise to someone that if they ever needed to call me I wouldn't be drunk. And that  promise extends to every single call or scene request I get. I am committed to staying sober and living a healthier life."

And then there were so many questions he couldn't distinguish any.

"Ok, I think I'm done for the day. I can't understand any of you." He said into the microphones. Then he stepped down off the podium and back into the waiting room he'd started this session in.

Mirko and Aizawa came in a moment later.

"You handled that really well." Aizawa said as Hawks sat exhaustedly into a folding chair. He looked out of it.

"You are exhausted after that." Mirko pointed out.

Hawks nodded drearily, not saying anything.

"Still up for ice cream..?" She asked.

"Oh hell yeah." He answered, sitting back up a little, "Aizawa, you wanna come with?"

Mirko looked over excitedly.

The man sighed, "only if I get to bring someone."

---------
Pro Heroes Hawks, Mirko, Eraserhead, and Present Mic all walked into a Dairy Queen at 5pm.

Halfway through his ice cream, Hawks fell asleep.

"Is he usually this out of it?" Mic asked as he took another spoonful of chocolate blizzard.

"Not really, it's been a long day for him. A long week honestly." Mirko answered, her smile dropping slightly as she thought of every time Hawks had woken up from a nightmare. Every night without fail since he'd announced this press conference he'd had a nightmare.

Some weren't too bad, others he woke up screaming.

"Poor guy, I mean he's still just a kid. What is he, 24? He didn't even finish his ice cream..." Mic said, unnaturally quiet.

"He's done so much though, it's crazy. I mean he's changing reality for heroes as we know it. He's getting the public to look at us as humans rather than superhumans, which is nice. He's already gotten us several steps closer towards more specialized and available mental health care for heroes, imagine what he's gonna do one day for the general public." Aizawa said with a soft smile. It was exciting, Aizawa never smiled.

Mirko couldn't help but grin knowing all the things her friend was doing behind the scenes with the league. He was rehabilitating villains. He was saving everyone he could, even if it meant saving the people he was supposed to be up against.

Their proud conversation came to a halt when Hawks suddenly jerked awake with a huge gasp, aggressively pushing his chair back and the table away from him. One hand was gripping the chair he was sitting in and the other was planted into the wall. His face was molded into one of terror and his shoulders were tense.

His eyes darted around the restaurant and a couple of eyes turned to him in all his still suited glory.

"Hey! Hey, you're fine. It's okay." Mirko said as he took a staggering inhale, but couldn't exhale. He was very clearly panicked from whatever dream he'd had.

"Kei, breathe. It's okay, look at where you are and just breathe. You've done it all your life you can do it now." She encouraged as Hawks forced air out of his lungs, then back in, and slowly he detensed. He brought a hand to his chest as he took more, grateful deep breaths.

"That's it, you've got it. In and out." She said softly, reaching out to rub his back.

He welcomed her comforting touch as he grabbed breath after breath.

"Do you want a hug?" She asked.

But he didn't respond. He just sat staring blankly at his soupy ice cream.

"Kiego, are you there?" She questioned softly, leaning forward a little to try and catch his gaze, but his eyes were glazed over and he just stared forward like he had nothing going on in his head. Mirko knew the reality was probably everything.

"He's dissociated, so fast." Mic pointed out, his eyebrows bent in in concern.

"He had an episode like this earlier too. Do you guys mind if I try to take him out to the car? It's quieter there." Mirko responded, still rubbing her friend's back.

"Yeah. Why don't we go home? We're all done and I don't think he's going to finish." Mic suggested.

Aizawa and Mirko both nodded and the bunny hero, in her nice dress and heels, went to help her suited friend.

He stumbled slightly as he got out of his chair. Rumi held him up until he'd regained his balance.

Halfway to the car he began to come back a little.

"Rumi?" He asked weakly, his eyes still downcast as he took rapid blinks, trying to completely retie himself to reality.

"I'm here, are you back?" She asked.

He didn't respond.

Rumi sighed and helped him into the backseat of the car where he resumed his dissociation for a couple more minutes.

A soft groan alerted them all back to his presence.

"Kei?"

"I'm here." He said, reaching up to massage his head. He had a pounding headache and his mouth tasted like warm dairy, leaving him mildly nauseous, "do you have any water?" He asked.

Mirko reached into her bag and pulled out a half empty waterbottle, "here, it's mine but you can have the rest. We're almost home and I called off your shift for later already, okay?"

Hawks nodded and drank greedily, catching the slight concerned glance from Aizawa in the rear-view mirror. He looked back down at his feet. He was exhausted, wholly and truly, but it was over.

And that's all he could ask for.

It was finally over and he could move on with his life.

With his plan.

--but maybe he would get his medication adjusted first. The nightmares had racked up too many lost hours of sleep--