Chapter Text
Birds and Cats. Cats and birds. They just…didn’t typically mix. Now, the norm was that cats ate birds, unless they were hawks like Hawks, and then birds ate cats. Well, sometimes. Really it could go either way, Hawks imagined that large birds of prey and cats would be rather evenly matched.
So, they had a long history of eating one another and really, they reminded Hawks of the relationship he shared with Dabi—without the, you know, eating part. Dabi in his mind was a wiry, sleek-furred cat with luminous eyes and intelligence sharp enough to slice. Something like the Cheshire cat, but less playful. Hawks was a bird with vivid colours to disguise the danger beneath the beautiful feathers. It was still undecided who would come out on top in a fight if it came to it.
“Musty rooftops again.” He mused, grinning patronizingly into the darkness around. “I didn’t even know rooftops could be musty, what d’ya know?”
“Shut up birdbrain.” Dabi muttered concisely, leaning over the ledge to look into the abyss below. Hawks didn’t think he could see anything, but then, his own night vision was terrible compared to his normal sight because of his hawk mutation, and with the way Dabi’s eyes seemed to legitimately glow, casting blue into the air around them, Hawks wouldn’t put it past him to be able to see better than him in the dark.
Dabi leaned further over, eyes looking somewhat glazed in the shadow. Hawks’ wings puffed slightly. This was the part where he’d normally grab the civilian’s arm and tell them they’d fall if they weren’t careful, flash a smile bright enough to distract them because in most cases they just wanted him to catch them. Here, there was no railing, just a slight step up that Dabi was already standing on. His gaze was quiet, thoughtful even, and he leaned further again, until almost all of his weight was over the edge. A breath’s worth of air would push him over now.
Hawks felt his chest tighten. Was this a…test? To see whether he’d save one of the League members if they fell, or let them die and eliminate one very powerful villain in a freak ‘accident’? He glanced over his shoulder. It could be that someone else from the League was watching, could be that Kurogiri’s portal was at the bottom of the alleyway to catch Dabi if he did fall, could be that his loyalties were being fact checked.
Hawks, if you see an opportunity to let one of them ‘accidentally’ sustain a lethal wound, say in a fight or territory brawl if the League begins to engage in expansion, take it. We need to cull their numbers as much as possible.
The Commission President had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t to protect the League.
“Dabi?” Hawks asked carefully instead, keeping his tone even so as not to startle him because he was clearly lost in thought. “You going to give me any tasks today or are we just here to sightsee, cos honestly, my night vision is pretty trash and those uh…beautiful mold-encrusted alleyways down there are a little hard to make out.”
Dabi blinked and leaned back, trance breaking, something akin to shock in his eyes. He stepped off the ledge and Hawks thought the movement was too quick, too skittish, for any of this to have been a test.
“Impatient bird,” he eventually muttered, yanking out a pile of paper from his shirt. “Always in such a rush. I would’ve thought these ‘mold-encrusted’ alleyways would be a nice change of scenery for a high-ranked hero. Let you see the real world for a moment.”
“Mm.” Hawks agreed noncommittedly.
Dabi’s gaze flicked through the files in his hands as though he hadn’t yet looked at them himself, skimming the contents with a faint frown. Hawks blinked in surprise when he risked a step closer and realised they were all written in English. He glanced at Dabi again, who was scanning through them with as much fluency as if he was reading Japanese.
So…not an education from the slums then? Only the more exclusive schools taught English to that extent. Although Dabi had been on the streets long enough that he couldn’t have finished school, so to be that fluent, was he part foreigner? He looked Japanese, so perhaps he was born to a more prestigious family. Huh…
“Are you even listening?” Dabi asked.
Hawks startled, straightening. “Huh? Yeah, uh…”
Dabi sighed and then waved the papers in his face, surprisingly patient for all the short-tempered threats he was always making. “These are from the Commission database.” He clarified. “All the files on Best Jeanist, in English because he’s of English heritage and they think it makes their secret files more secret.” He snorted humourlessly and passed them over. “Kill him and Shigaraki might want to meet you.”
Hawks’ eyes widened. “Kil—” He was quick to cut his word off, almost biting his tongue with the force he snapped his mouth shut. Something strange passed across Dabi’s face, something like…remorse.
“Yeah.” The villain said, turning aside. “Shouldn’t cause you too much trouble.”
Dabi’s voice was stiff, almost. Like the words were spoken through gritted teeth. He turned back right before he reached the door and added, patronising smirk that was more like the ‘Dabi’ the Commission records depicted already in place, “Feel free to fail, Hero. I won’t even kill you for it.”
And for some reason, those last few words sounded more genuine than any before that.
Dabi slipped down the stairs, door clicking shut behind him and Hawks looked at the papers in his hands. “Kill him, eh?” The Commission could sort something out. The more he thought about it the more he realised that this was basically a gift in disguise. It would be easy to pull up a dead body using someone’s quirk and make it look like Best Jeanist, and because it was such a loud gesture of loyalty maybe he really would be able to meet Shigaraki. He tucked the paper into his pocket and stepped off the balcony, wings tented open enough that he just sailed down to the ground, landing lightly. He glanced around. Nothing noteworthy. Just another alley.
He wished he knew what Dabi had been thinking about when he’d been staring down here, eyebrows pinched, mind far away.
Dabi was…difficult to understand. In a way that Hawks didn’t usually find people. Dabi was too unpredictable, too intelligent, too distrustful, too much of an untypical villain. His body counts ticked up and up and up more every day, with police reporting burnt out corpses to the Commission weekly. He was more of a lone wolf type than the other League members seemed to be, and whether it was self-imposed or not was uncertain. He was also…not unkind to Hawks. He wasn’t kind, exactly, but he was far more mild than he was made out to be. Heck, Hawks had fans that unsettled him more than Dabi did. Dabi had never pulled his feathers, or tried to pluck his hairs as trophies, or tear the buttons off his shirt or tug his gloves off or—the list went on for quite a while, actually. Had Dabi ever even touched Hawks? So far, the worst thing about Dabi was the jobs he gave him. They were unpleasant, to say the least. This whole ‘being forced to infiltrate the League of Villains as an untrained spy’ thing was unpleasant.
His phone began to ring incessantly in his pocket. Ah, right. The Commission President wanted to speak to him today. What a pleasure, gosh he was so looking forward to that.
- - -
“Hello Madam President,” He greeted, tapping down on her balcony and stepping inside as it was opened by one of her—hm, basically servants but technically called secretaries—and he was allowed in. “How are you on this fine, radiantly raining day?”
She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him and didn’t answer. “Hawks. I want an update on your infiltrating the League. Have you met Tomura Shigaraki yet?”
Straight to it then. “I’ve met up with Dabi multiple times,” he began, tapping his jaw with a glove-clad talon. He tilted his head and smiled, already knowing how annoyed it made her. “He’s actually quite hospitable, I gotta say. He gives me a time and he’s there at said time, although he never sends me the address until half an hour before—probably so I can’t set up an ambush—which is a strain on my wings. I was late once…ya know, he didn’t even yell at me. More than I can say about you, Lady President.” He winked. “And he’s guarded, sure, and suspicious, and a little paranoid, and sometimes gets distracted by wide looming black cavernous alleyways—okay, yeah, that’s only happened once but—”
“Hawks.”
“I was really curious about what he was thinking about, he’s kinda pretty, up close. And from a distance too…Look, I know you said no, but are you sure you don’t want me to try my hand at this honeytrap thing? The offer’s only on the table for Dabi at this point, I’m not one for crusty-faced, barely-considered-an-adult, hand-obsessed dudes like Shigaraki, but Dabi is definitely—”
“Hawks. Be quiet.”
Hawks grinned. Silently.
“I asked for a status report. Give me one, as you’ve been trained to, right now.”
Damn, he thought, tucking his patronising smile away, I hoped if I talked long enough she’d just send me away. “No large updates.” He said, tone sobering as he sighed. “He wants me to kill Best Jeanist, but I’m sure we can arrange something. If I succeed I was given the impression I’d be able to meet with Shigaraki—sad, I kinda like my one-on-one meetings with Dab—”
“Hawks—”
“It doesn’t seem like he’ll give me too many other jobs if I succeed, although if I fail any sort of belief he has that I truly want to be a villain will dissipate, I get the feeling Dabi still doesn’t believe me, he seemed to want to give me a way out of killing Jeanist.” He paused, gaze downcast as he traced the patterns in the leather of his glove absently with his eyes. “Like I said last time…Dabi doesn’t make sense to me. It’s almost like he doesn’t hate my guts, which is interesting sure, but just…not what I expected, considering his disgust of the number one hero, you’d think he’d be a little more malicious towards the number two...” He caught his tone at the last minute, realising it had become far too serious, and added. “But like, he might like-like me, ya know? Sooo, the honeytrap thing would be—”
“Hawks, leave.” The Commission president said, rubbing her temples. ‘Write me a full report, multiple pages, nothing left out, and have it on my desk by tomorrow.”
Hawks winced. Okay, no sleeping tonight then.
“And report back first thing in the morning.”
He nodded, relieved at least that he could go home finally, even if it was only to spend all night writing a report.
“Oh.” She said, and he felt all his newfound relief sink into a pool of dread in the pit of his stomach. “Actually you can put the report off, I want you to go back to the rooftop you saw Dabi at today and trace him back to wherever he lives. We believe we have a vague notion of where the League base is, but Dabi appears to not reside with them. He is too unknown.”
He didn’t ask, how am I supposed to ‘trace’ him? or you do realise there’s no way for me to know which direction he left in without having left one of my feathers on him, which I don’t. He just pulled his lips up in what really wasn’t a smile and nodded.
She gave him a tight-lipped grimace. “Now leave, and practise some more professionalism before our next meeting.”
He watched her a moment longer, and then gave her a two fingered salute and hopped out the window and into the air.
- - -
Well, he was right. Dabi was untraceable.
He walked along the road for a long while, having picked one at random because it gave him faint Dabi-ish vibes, hands in his pockets, whistling tunelessly because he was boring like that. “Haah.” He sighed, for the ninetieth time. “I’m not a tracker dog. Why don’t they just employ someone else to do this?” And he couldn’t even trace Dabi from the sky because his sight was shit at night. He drummed his fingers against the inside of his pocket, still wandering aimlessly. The night was cool, it was somewhat nice when he really thought about it. Better than a report though? Well, that was debatable—
To his left, something shattered. He started, wings flaring out, when someone was abruptly thrown out of a bar and onto the closest pile of junk. Things clattered everywhere, a tyre wheel rolling over to settle at Hawks’ feet. “Uh…are you alright?” He began, leaning closer to better see.
The woman, who was clearly extremely intoxicated, stood up. She glared at him for a long moment. “‘R ya Hawks?” She eventually slurred in an accent that was definitely not Japanese.
“Yeah…?” he agreed uncertainly.
“Ha. My girlfriend likes you.”
He stepped closer and helped her move away from the junk pile and over to the wall of the bar, where she could lean against it and stand somewhat straight. “Tell her hi from me then.” He said cheerily. Fans he could deal with, but it was always hit or miss in these parts. They either hated your guts or they loved them.
Her glare intensified. “Ma’ girlfriend jus’ threw me out of her bar and dumped me fer bein’ a drunk. Apparently I’s acting like an animal. How ironic.”
“Oh.” He said nervously, letting go of her arm. Too late though, she latched onto him and something molten hot flowed out of her fingertips and up his arm. He’d been in too many painful situations to still instinctively cry out, so the only sound he made was a sharp gasp as his breath caught in his throat.
“I can show ‘er what it’s like to be an animal, I’ll make ‘er favourite dancin’ dirty ‘ero into an animal for a week er two.”
Hawks stomped on her foot, spearing his wings to throw him backwards, the training of thousands of fights kicking back in. He slid away from her, hands raised pacifyingly. “Look, I’m leaving, okay?”
She snorted. “No yer not.”
And he realised with some surprise that she was right, his vision spitting with little crackling coloured dots and his body filling with cement all at once.
- - -
Hawks came-to when something started snuffling against his face, a wet nose and pointy whiskers prodding into his cheek. He groaned, and it sounded a little different from how it was meant to.
“What’ve you got over there?” Someone asked, someone vaguely familiar-sounding. “Is that…did someone poison one of you?”
Hands slipped around Hawks’ body, and suddenly he was carefully lifted up. Warm hands, and then he was held loosely against a warm chest and he shifted a little closer to nuzzle into it because why not? Affection and touch were definitely his love languages.
“You okay there, little one?” Someone asked softly, and Hawks blearily opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was about a dozen cats sitting on the ground, faces tilted up, just like dogs begging for food. Okay, so…that was strange. The next thing he processed was that his gaze was a bit short-sighted. He couldn’t see half as far as he normally could. And then he realised that in fact, he could see his nose. And it was furry. And tawny-red coloured. And he had a black nose. Black, like a cat’s.
Huh, he thought, totally disconnected, I’m a cat right now, aren’t I?
So, that would be what that crazy drunk from last night had been ranting about.
Warm fingers probed against his head, feeling his ears as though checking there was no damage to him anywhere. It felt good, and then to his shock he was purring.
“You have golden eyes.” That voice said again. “Didn’t know that was a thing.”
The fingers left his fur and he was placed on the ground to stand on shaky feet and Hawks looked up to find…Dabi.
Wow, the sheer coincidence.
Dabi crouched down and all the other cats swarmed over to him, curling around his legs and hopping up onto his lap. He seemed amused by it, running his fingers through the fur of whichever cat butted most persistently against his hand, uncaring of how ragged or dirty they were.
Hawks sat there silently, tail wrapped around his body, just staring, for a very long time. Dabi paid no particular attention to him, content to keep patting the other cats. He wasn’t pushy about it, didn’t force any of them near him. He didn’t appear to be feeding them either, so Hawks wasn’t even sure why they flocked to him so persistently.
But…Dabi. This was an A—almost S—ranked villain who murdered people daily. Patting cats. Okay. This was fine. Hawks was fine.
Dabi stayed with the cats for a surprising amount of time before he straightened, brushing the fur off his coat and letting it fall back to hang around his knees. “See ya.” He said, flicking a wave over his shoulder like they were humans except that he wasn’t that polite to humans.
The cats meowed back at him, a discordant harmony if Hawks ever heard one, and then they scattered. Clearly this was routine.
Hawks blinked owlishly and quickly ran after Dabi. He looked both ways once he breached the end of the alleyway, worried he’d already be gone, but there was those dark boots strolling comfortably down the dingy street to his left, hands in pockets. Hawks trotted quickly after him, falling into step at his side.
Dabi paused. Hawks also paused. He sat back on his haunches and looked up at him, ears flicking about.
The pyromaniac sighed. “Look fuzzface, I’ve already told you all a hundred times, you can’t come back with me. I’m not a very safe person to hang around with.”
Hawks marvelled at the way he managed to make ‘fuzzface’ sound like the most complimentary and endearing nickname he’d ever heard. He was kinda honoured to be called it actually.
Hawks opened his mouth and meowed. The option to talk no longer existed apparently. Dabi looked at him for another long minute before he continued walking.
Hawks trotted after him.
“You better only be heading this way.” The villain told him. “Because you’re not coming back to my house.”
They walked for a while, until Hawks was comfortable enough in this body to be jumping around and pouncing on things, tail swaying. Dabi appeared to be lost in thought, chewing on the inside of his cheek absently, eyes watching the ground he was walking on. Occasionally he’d glance at Hawks and his eyes would soften.
The first time it had happened Hawks had tripped over. He wanted to blame it on the literal two left feet, but he’d just never…seen that expression on anyone. And to see it on Dabi, well, he’d already thought Dabi was startlingly pretty. It made his insides do weird things, made him feel nervous and all bubbly like it was Christmas eve at once.
Eventually Dabi reached an apartment complex and slipped inside faultlessly enough that Hawks had actually continued trotting on for a few moments before he’d jerked to a startled stop upon realising the villain was gone.
He ran back and slid inside the closing door in just the nick of time.
Or so he’d thought.
Some extra limb that was a bit like his wings but far longer suddenly erupted in pain and he collapsed to a heap on the ground, crying out helplessly at the sharp unfamiliar feeling.
Footsteps fell loudly near his head and then the door clicked open again and the pain lessened significantly. He was scooped into those warm arms once more and hot fingers combed through the fur at his ears until he went quiet and leaned his snout on Dabi’s shoulder, purring. “You idiot,” The villain said, still stroking his back as he carried him through the halls. “You got your tail stuck in the door trying to follow me, this is why I told you not to come. You have to leave once I make sure none of the bones are broken, alright?”
They reached room number 193 and Dabi slipped a key out of his pocket to unlock it. Only one lock? That was surprising. Hawks would have thought that Dabi would want to be a little safer than that, what with being a villain and everything. When he glanced around, even the other rooms in the complex had two or three locks.
Dabi took him inside and placed him on a very uncomfortable couch, snatching a rather threadbare blanket out of another room before lifting him again to place it underneath him. Well, it was a little more comfortable at least.
“Let me see your tail, cat-that-jumps-around-like-it-thinks-it’s-a-bird.”
Hawks looked up indignantly. He hadn’t been hopping around that much, he’d just been getting used to his new body. And he was a bird! So what did it matter!?
Dabi lifted him onto his lap and Hawks let him, body lax like he was a slinky. The villain inspected his tail, brushing his fingers over it in the same gentle way he’d been displaying all day. It was so bizarre, it was the most gentle and soft he’d ever seen anybody, and it was Dabi. Hawks didn’t know many soft people, sure, he had few friends and his life was essentially fighting villains that constantly wanted him dead. Kindness wasn’t plentiful. This was strange, it made Hawks a little glad he was a cat, even if it was just for this moment. Nobody had ever touched him so carefully, or cared if he was injured, or spoken to him openly, without a hint of suspicion or ulterior motive. His tail didn’t hurt anymore, so Hawks yawned and settled onto Dabi’s lap, laying his head on his paws and closing his eyes. This was about as close to a holiday he would ever get, he shouldn’t waste it being worried that the A-Ranked villain treating him like he was important would suddenly recognise him and everything would change. He was naturally a pretty easy-going person, he was happy to just let things play out. Maybe he’d pick up on some extra information to make the Commission less mad at him for disappearing for however long this animal quirk lasted.
“Don’t go to sleep.” Dabi chided, poking him. “You’re leaving, remember?”
Hawks bit his finger when it poked him next and Dabi sighed dramatically, throwing his head back on the backrest of the couch. “Insufferable little thing, aren’t you? You’re about as bossy as Hawks, you gonna start demanding I let you into the League too? And look, you’ve got those crazy eyebrows to boot.”
Hawks’ ears perked, tilting towards Dabi. The villain took that to mean he was listening and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? Don’t tell me you’re a fan of the birdbrain too.”
Hawks sat back up, looking up at the villain inquiringly. Dabi snorted and ruffled his ears again. “He’s this bird that wants to be a villain, except he’s a really bad liar and he’s clearly a hero.”
Hawks’ eyes widened slightly. Dabi sounded certain. Without a doubt. But not angry, he almost sounded…was it fond? Couldn’t be, but he sounded like something when he spoke of Hawks.
Dabi drew his hand back from Hawks to scratch his own nose and then absently bit his thumbnail, glancing out the window beside them. “I’ve got to figure out more ways to keep him away from the League, they’ll chew him up. But Shigaraki’s going to dust me soon if I don’t let them meet, and the Commission is no doubt getting antsy with the featherhead too…”
Hawks sat very still on his lap, shocked.
Dabi was…was it—protecting him?
Shigaraki wanted to meet him?
He knew that the Commission had put him up to it?
Hawks looked down at his paws, eyes wide. That was a lot of information to process. Dabi was…shockingly intelligent. He’d make a far better spy than Hawks did. He clearly picked up on tells Hawks wasn’t even aware he was exhibiting.
“You know,” the dark-haired villain mused idly. “He’s about the only hero that I really like—well, like is a strong word. I mean, there’s some UA teachers that aren’t bad, and the odd low-ranking hero. But at the top…there’s just my bastard father and those other fakes, and then there’s Hawks, who’s somehow survived whatever the Commission has put him through and retained his integrity. He helps people. Just to help them. For no other reason and always at the cost of himself.”
Hawks wasn’t quite sure that he was breathing. All the praise was overwhelming, and so…so was the admission that one of the high-ranking pros was Dabi’s father. How could that—how could that even be? It, wasn’t possible, who…
“Ow—” Dabi suddenly exclaimed, pulling Hawks up so that his claws were no longer piercing into his leg. “Careful of the staples, bird-cat!”
Hawks forced the claws to retract, trying to back up with Dabi’s hands holding his shoulders.
Dabi set him back down, looking apologetic. “Sorry for shouting,” He murmured, rubbing Hawks’ ears again. “You don’t need to look so shaken. Hey, are you hungry?”
He set Hawks down beside him on the uncomfortable couch and stood up.
“I mean, I know if I feed you I’ll never be able to get rid of you, but you’ve been in the wars today, huh little fella? First you were lying on the ground like you were dead, and then you got your tail jammed in the door for following me, and now you’ve had the fright of your life so I suppose I owe you some food.”
He reached into a cupboard that looked empty and pulled out a can of tuna from the back before opening it carefully, without spilling anything. He tipped it into a bowl, oil and all, and then scrounged through the draws until he found a spoon.
Hawks watched him, hungry all at once. At least he wasn’t going to be forced to eat cat food, that was a nice benefit.
Dabi ate about four mouthfuls as he walked over and then set it on the ground, the spoon still in his mouth. “Here.” He murmured, before standing again and walking away. Hawks finished off the tuna in his absence, surprised to find that it tasted a lot better than normal now that he was a cat. When Dabi returned he wasn’t wearing his villain clothes anymore, but a pair of tracksuit pants with a hole in each knee that were particularly ragged around his ankles. He had a faded shirt on too, patternless and brandless. It was a little big for him, Hawks thought, tilting his head. Dabi had his villain coat in his hand, and he slipped it on over the top as he walked over and picked up Hawks’ spotless bowl. Hawks licked his lips pointedly, still feeling a little peckish.
Dabi laughed. “Wow, aren’t you polite.” He said facetiously. “Go catch your own food, you mangy stray.”
He washed the bowl and spoon and put them away and then wondered back over to select a worn book out of a shelf that only housed six books in total, all equally worn. They must’ve been read at least seventy times each to be looking like that.
When he settled back onto the couch Hawks gave up on begging for food, and climbed up too, with a very human-sounding sigh. At least he could still sigh. Small mercies.
He sat beside Dabi for a while, bored, his tail flicking about. At some point he shoved his nose into the side of Dabi’s leg enough times that the villain began absently tracing his fingers through the fur on Hawks’ back and that made the boredom go away because it felt nice and Dabi’s hands were warm and no one ever touched Hawks unless they were being pervy.
The sun dipped below the horizon sometime later and Dabi sighed and set the book back on the shelf without marking the page he was up to. Huh, odd. He probably knew the story too well to need a bookmark.
Hawks hopped up and followed him when he walked over to the second room in the house, peeking past his ankles to look into the bedroom. Well, it did have a bed. But that was the only ‘bedroomy’ thing about it. He could see a closed wardrobe and that was…all there was. Dabi grabbed whatever he’d come in to get, and pushed Hawks gently out the door with his foot before closing it behind him and leading the way to the bathroom. Hawks growled a little at not being able to snoop further and begrudgingly followed him again. The bathroom was clean, but empty. If a bathroom could be empty. There was a toilet and a shower cramped into the space, and a vanity with a scratched mirror that showed a warped reflection. It was hard to make out because it was so dark. Hawks meowed pointedly, scratching at the wall beneath the light switch. Dabi shooed him away with his foot.
“Oh stop complaining,” he complained, “There’s no electricity. You’re a cat, you can definitely see in the dark. And if you’re just scratching my wall to annoy me—the more realistic option seeing as you’re a cat and cats don’t comprehend electricity—I’ll lock you outside and you can go back to wherever you came from.”
Hawks groaned and rolled onto his back, letting Dabi try to shove him out the door with his foot again but making himself as loose and heavy as he could so that it didn’t really work.
Dabi barked out a laugh at his antics and went back to brushing his teeth, unconcerned. When he was done, he walked over to the window and leaned out. “It’s a warm night,” He murmured, “That’s good.”
Hawks hopped up onto the windowsill beside him and poked his nose under Dabi’s arm to inspect. He didn’t think it was particularly warm out there. It was just…not freezing yet. He shrugged and darted back down before hopping onto the uncomfortable couch and curling into the threadbare blanket. He might as well stay the night. There wasn’t much else he could do.
Dabi raised an eyebrow. “You want the blanket huh…I suppose that’s okay. You can have it for tonight.”
And he slipped into his own room, closing the door with a soft click.
It wasn’t until much later that night, when Hawks was shifting about on the uncomfortable couch to find a spot that was a little more soft, that he paused. Dabi hadn’t…eaten anything other than those few mouthfuls of tuna. Had he…eaten earlier in the day? It couldn’t have been since at least lunch, because Hawks had been with him. He glanced over at the kitchen, and there was no refrigerator either. Oh, no power, right…but that was strange too. Surely an apartment like this place had power. It was dingy to an unbelievable level, but everything had power these days.
He settled back down, frowning a little. Well, whatever…