Requested by @KilluaGamer99

Hawks flew by in the sky like a flash of yellow and red. He didn't care that his visor fell off in his hurry, or about the fact that his eyes were drying from the wind and keeping them open became difficult. All he knew was that the second he heard the news, his heart stopped. A flurry of emotions overpowered his judgement as he ignored the citizens below that possibly needed his help. He only had one thing on his mind: you.

On social media, the winged hero was trending with bursts of curiosity over the possible reasons as to why he was in such a rush. His hero name was plastered over online news reports, tabloids, blogs—there wasn't a soul who hadn't heard about the blur of red and yellow.

Hawks tossed aside his earpiece when the other line wouldn't give him the answers he sought. Anything that confirmed your current situation.

Never had he ever expected to be in such disarray. He was so confident that you would never get hurt because you were by his side. His optimism ensured that he would be able to protect you in anyway—any situation, or you would be able to protect yourself. Perhaps protect yourself long enough for him to deal with the rest. Never did he think the day would come where he feared for your safety. Today came and hit him like a truck that killed all his hopes and dreams and everything that let him live on.

Anxiety built up within his body with each second that passed by while he was in the air. He cursed how far away he was from you when you needed him most. He hated this feeling of uncertainty; he wanted to throw up due to its overwhelming weight.

His eyes scanned below as he got closer, and recognized the area that you were supposed to be nearby. He desperately searched through dried eyes that began to tear up now that he somewhat slowed down. He sent individual feathers to and fro in search of you, because he could recognize you anywhere.

Until he heard the hustle of officers and the growing crowd of nosy, concerned citizens. He shot down only to witness an EMT drag a stretcher into an ambulance.

"Stop!" Hawks shouted as he jumped into the ambulance just as it closed the doors to the public.

Hawks froze as his eyes registered the current state you were in. His heart stopped just as time itself had.

"The Winged Hero? Do you know this person?" Asked the EMT as they supplied you with air from their Ambu bag, as another stuck an IV in your skin. The ambulance drove in a hurry as the EMTs worked hard to keep you conscious to the hospital while keeping mind Hawks was there.

"Will... What happened...? I...," Hawks mumbled out as he was a loss for words. All functions in his brain seemed to shut off as he listened to the heart monitor beat slowly and the pump of oxygen entering your lungs.

"I'm sorry but we are busy. Please sit there until we have reached the hospital," the EMT ordered in a firm voice and returned their attention to you.

You lay on the stretcher lifeless attached to machines that gave Hawks some hope to cling to.

Hawks sat against the wall watching you being tended to by the EMTs, all the while unable to face reality. Even when the ambulance made it to the hospital and he followed you to the emergency room, until he reached the point no outsider could enter. He stood watching the door in complete silence as he tried to relay the situation at hand. But he couldn't for the life of him. Or maybe "wouldn't".

Hawks stood there for each hour you were in the emergency room without moving. He seemed to have become close to that of a mannequin in his current state. Even when your loved ones rushed him for answers, they almost beat him in their hysteric state from the lack of response.

Hawks didn't know what to do with himself except wait for you to return to his arms. He would hold you and keep you in his embrace and ensure something like this would never happen again. Hell, he didn't care if he had to lock you in his house just to keep you safe. His heart couldn't take the anxiety that came with waiting desperately for news on you. If locking you away from the public kept you safe, then he can withstand years of your hatred.

But such a wish never came to light as a surgeon exited the room with a grim expression. The words left their mouth and your loved ones collapsed to the floor as they began to cry for your loss.

Except Hawks, who finally snapped and grabbed the surgeon by the shoulders. "No! This can't be! Get back in there!" He yelled at the surgeon even as guards dragged him out the hospital and he fought their grips. His blood burned with a fury unlike any other, nothing like he had ever felt before.

"I know you're alive! Please!" He yelled at the hospital in hopes his voice would reach your ears. He was kicked out the premises and shoved into a vehicle by the commission.

It was since that moment, Hawks was announced to be on an indefinite hiatus.

He was locked away in his room, wallowing in his negative emotions. Not once did he leave his home. He refused to eat for he couldn't stomach anything down, and refused to sleep in fear he would see your face haunting his dreams. The regret and guilt he felt kept him from listening to his body and fulfill his basic needs. He didn't know what to do with himself now that you were gone.

When he heard news of your funeral, he threw up several times due to the guilt, and fear of facing you and those who knew you. How could he dare visit your funeral when your death was his fault? He promised to be by your side forever. Although it seemed like a romantic lie, he truly meant it. He believed you were his other half—his soulmate—but now that you were gone he was a broken shell. Despite this, he somehow mustered some courage and audacity to come to your funeral.

He was the last to visit. He missed the open casket, but he stood alone at your grave. His eyes were bloodshot and dried from all the tears he spilled for you, and he fell to his knees pleading you to return to him.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I should've been there. It's all my fault... you needed me and I wasn't there."

His hands lay at the foot of your grave and he cursed his absence. He cursed the thought of how you felt at such a traumatic time, and how he failed to help you.

"Why...? Why did you have to die? Why did you leave me?"

He fell asleep at your grave until a grave keeper kicked him out. News with Hawks' face was plastered on every screen and his visit to your grave. Because of him, strangers visited your grave as well out of curiosity for the pro hero. That didn't help ease the guilt he felt for—what he thought—causing your death.

Those people made him not want to visit your grave anymore. Both out of respect for your privacy, and the guilt of being the reason why they were there. That, too, brought another weight to carry, the weight of another guilt for not visiting your grave.

He stayed at home in the meantime. He didn't lift a finger when his home became a pigsty. He didn't bother letting people in when they tried to visit. And he tried to sleep the days away to hide from everything in his house that reminded him of you. He cried in his dreams every night, because you were there to haunt him.

He apologized relentlessly in his sleep, and woke up from the terrors of guilt you brought to his dreams. The sleepless nights brought forth his insomnia, which created the cycle of nightmares and hallucinations.

When less than half a year passed, the commission demanded he returned, and to "get over" his pathetic state as there were "more important matters." He hadn't healed the slightest since your passing, and there were no signs of growth nor acceptance. This was due to his overwhelming sense of guilt, and the empty feeling he couldn't fill since losing you.

He always spoke with confidence how you were literally his other half. He felt you were his soulmate, or an equivalent to that. You didn't necessarily believe that, nor did the people around you and him. But the loss of feeling within him was proven to be true. He felt he lost everything. He wanted nothing more than to switch places, hell, he didn't care if he had to sacrifice someone else to get you back.

He wanted you by his side again, not in dreams or hallucinations brought by his insomnia. He missed the feeling of your skin touching, and your lips on his. He missed holding you and reminding you how much he loved you. He'd do anything to bring you back, even if it meant sacrificing himself just to be whole again.

"Hawks! Get out now!" Yelled someone from outside his door. He couldn't care who it could be, but he didn't doubt it was someone from the commission again. "You've been away for too long now! It's about time you get over it and get back to work! There's too much to do!"

His blood boiled and he bit his tongue. He already yelled at them once, if they didn't get the hint then that was their problem. But the fact they disrespected your death didn't sit well with him. He knew how they felt about your relationship with him. He didn't bother with it because he had you. But now? He didn't have much left to lose. Nor did he have the patience to let this pass by. So his tongue that was becoming numb finally let loose.

"Fuck of already! Say shit like that again about them and you'll regret it! Fuck you and the commission. Fuck the work you throw at me and get the fuck out of here!"

"You're going to regret having said that, Hawks. I suggest you calm down and call tomorrow morning, better yet, clock in. The commission owns you," the voice replied in a threatening tone that dared him to speak anymore than he already had.

The tone didn't do justice as it only angered Hawks even more. His unstable emotions gave him the courage and strength to release the built up tension within.

"I'm not working for you grubby fucks anymore. Fire me, kill me for all I care! Losing my Love is the worst thing to have happened to me, and all you care about is some fucked up agenda. You want me to work again? Tell the commission they'll have to drag my dead body in tomorrow morning!" Hawks sent a flurry of his crimson feathers toward the door in the case they tried to open it. He didn't want that fucked up person to step foot in his home, a place where you touched.

"Your life doesn't belong to you, Hawks. Nor does it belong to some summer fling. You already understand this, do you not?"

"I'll kill you!" Hawks yelled back and had to stop himself from sending a feather straight into their mouth and kill them from the inside.

"What happened to being an 'optimistic'? The Number 2 Hero shouldn't be on hiatus for such a long period of time," the person challenged.

"Open your mouth again and you'll see what happens," Hawks threatened as a feather snuck under the door.

Hawks waited for a reply, until he heard the pleasant sound of their foot steps walking away from his door.

When he was sure they were gone, he collapsed to his knees. The anger was long gone from his body only to leave behind the grief he tried so desperately to hide from. He punched the ground for some kind of release, and tried to control his breathing.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, Lovebird," he said to the nothing. He knew you weren't there, but even saying his nickname for you brought some peace to his broken soul.

As he stood up, he saw the places you spent your time at. The table where you shared meals on his days off; the couch where you cuddled and watched movies together; the counter where he trapped you and kissed you; the front door where you met him at on occasion to greet him when you visited; the umbrella you both shared that broke in the winds. The memories of you made him feel sick and he ran from them. He hid and ran in his room while trying to keel whatever was in his stomach down.

The piece of him you took with you would never heal, he believed. Not when the wound was this large. How could he dare move on from your death when you were such a significant part of his life?