Flea

Chapter Seventy

Aizawa picked up Maeve from the train station. Any good humour she'd gained from meeting Hawks quickly shrivelled at his expression on the platform and apart from thanking commission agents (who had been surprisingly pleasant, she might add) for making the 3 am trip to ensure her safety, they drove back to UA in complete silence.

"You know, it was a good ballet. Lots of... Pirouettes..." Maeve finally said, side-eyeing him through pale eyelashes. He didn't reply, stony face fixed on the road in front of them.

"Dr Shinso can tell you just how good the pirouettes were," she decided, going back to pretending to look out the window. They sat quietly.

"Hawks was unexpectedly not as much of an asshole as previously believed. He made sure I ate."

Maeve waited for a response. Nothing.

"He offered me a position at his agency."

There was a sniff at that, which considering she could have been convinced he was a robot before that point was cause for celebration.

"I said I'd think about it. He's coming to UA the day after tomorrow to discuss things further-"

She was cut off by Aizawa slamming on the breaks and they swerved to the side of the road. If it was anyone else she would have yelled at them, but her father was normally such a responsible driver Maeve just sat in shock.

"You said what?" He asked, surprisingly calmly.

"I doubt I'll accept. But he actually raised some good points-"

"Some good points? This is the man who paid people to stick mentos and coca-cola in all of your puke pints - you nearly asphyxiated in your visor, don't look at me like it was funny."

"He apologised for that, actually. And turns out that prank I pulled with Stanley's help - you know the one - the pigeons gave him an avian parasite; he needed to be hospitalised."

"I absolutely do not know the one. You did what?"

"Nevermind."

"You know, you still haven't apologised for leaving," he said, face pressed full of hard lines and shadows. Maeve felt her eyes beginning to burn from exhaustion, and pain, and the walls drawn up between them that had been growing for months.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," she managed, and he raised his eyes to the ceiling, clearly holding back tears himself.

"That isn't good enough. When are you going to start being sorry for yourself? For nearly getting yourself killed? You stopped breathing tonight and if he'd been a minute later in pulling you out - Jesus Maeve. I don't know what to do. I give you freedom and you put yourself in a coma, I give you more regulation because your LIFE IS IN DANGER and get calls at one in the morning saying you're across the country and they're not sure if you'll wake up..."

He broke off as his quirk accidentally activated, filling the car with a flash of red. The man needed to turn his head so Maeve wasn't caught in his gaze, and the scarlet light from his eyes highlighted scarring around his eyes from the USJ attack.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I am," she gulped, blinking through tears.

"Earlier tonight, on the phone. I feel like that was the first time you were honest with me in years. Which is my fault, because you were right. UA has been using you, and I let them because I thought... I thought it might slow you down working there instead of the hospital full-time. I was wrong. You're 18, you're supposed to be able to be young, and make selfish decisions. So make one. All of your contracts are null and void without a licence, this is your chance to get out. Stop using your quirk," he commanded, and Maeve had never heard him so insistent before.