The hideout smelled like antiseptic and rot.

Hawks had done the aerial sweep first. As always, he wanted to get the full picture before boots hit the ground.

The warehouse district from above was quiet, lights off, nothing moving. Which meant either nothing was here or something was here and knew better than to announce itself.

He'd bet on the second one. He'd been wrong.

The building was empty. Endeavor moved through it with his jaw set. Aizawa moved beside him. Present Mic stayed on comms.

Hawks drifted back inside through an upper window and worked his way down. Feathers fanned out ahead of him, his eyes, his reach—slipping under doors, mapping what was around corners before he was.

One of them stopped, sensing something in that far off room. Hawks landed in front of the door and pushed it open.

The room was a laboratory. Tanks. Monitors. Tubing. The infrastructure of something long and ongoing and deliberately hidden. His feathers swept the space automatically, cataloguing.

And found you in the corner.

You were on the floor, back against the wall, knees loosely folded. Hospital gown, pale blue, hanging off one shoulder. Plastic bracelet on your wrist—numbered, not named. Bare feet on cold concrete. Your hair was loose around your face and your eyes were open.

You were looking at the feather hovering two feet in front of you with an expression Hawks couldn't immediately categorize.

Not scared. Not hostile. Just... there.

He stepped into the room slowly. Recalled the feather. Watched your eyes track it back to him and stay there.

"Hey." He kept his voice easy. Light. The voice he used when he needed someone to believe everything was fine before it actually was.

"Didn't expect to find anyone home."