Chapter Text
He'd expected the anxiety about being around so many people in his current condition, but he hadn't expected to feel so exposed and claustrophobic at the same time. Hearing cars rumbling close by that he couldn't see was more stressful than he expected. By the time they reached the store he was sure that this whole idea had been a mistake and that he should have just ordered take-out for however long this was going to take. The squeak of carts, ambient chatter of shoppers, and the high-pitched bleeps of the checkout were overwhelming after the quiet of his apartment and the disorientation he felt not being able to tell exactly where on the sidewalk he was or how close to the road they were.
"-zawa, Aizawa?" Yagi asks, stirring him from the sounds around him.
"Yeah?" he asks, hoping that he sounds less wrung out than he feels.
"Are y- Was there anything in particular you wanted?"
He could feel the heat of Yagi's free hand just over his shoulder. Damn it. I was that obvious.
"Listen, I don't ne-" The reflex to argue dies in his throat as the crash of carts being shoved together makes him flinch and he leans hard into Yagi's side. For a second, he feels like he can't breathe before a long arm pulls him in tighter and he relaxes. They stand like that longer than he knows he should before clearing his throat roughly. He's frustrated that something so mundane spooked him like that and he can feel the burn in his eyes that signifies exactly how close he was to having a panic attack.
"How about soba?" he suggests a bit forcefully. To his relief, Yagi takes the hint and loosens his grip around his shoulders. Truth be told, part of him wishes that he'd waited a bit longer. With only his grip on the gangly man's arm, he feels on edge again.
Toshinori's gaze softens as Aizawa shifts to goad him into motion. He wishes there were more he could do right now, but the best he can think of is to get the trip over as quickly as possible. Silently cursing himself for not realizing how tense his companion was, he nods.
"Soba could be good. I was thinking of doing a double batch so we have some leftovers," he suggests as he guides them through the store. It's lively, but not crowded at this time of day. As he gathers the things into the basket he's carrying, Toshinori can't help but keep glancing over to Aizawa. If he hadn't been there himself, he would be hard-pressed to believe that this was the same man that had been so wound up only minutes before. Still, the occasional sharp squeeze he got when someone walked or spoke too close by was more than enough evidence that he should have tried to find a way to have Aizawa just stay behind and try to rest.
"Yagi, why did you sign on to help anyway?" Aizawa asks abruptly, nearly making Toshinori drop the onion in his hand.
"Well I, uh," Toshinori stammers and heat crawls up the back of his neck as he tries to formulate a more acceptable reason than the truth. "A lot of the other teachers were busy, and with my time limit..." he trails off, not wanting to say too much in public. Beside him, he feels Aizawa stiffen slightly and he writes it off as the woman that coughs nearby.
"I see."
The response is curt and something about it feels off even though he doesn't expect any different from the taciturn man. Before he can dwell on it too much a loud crash from the street sends both of them into motion. Both men whirl instinctively toward the sound and move. He notices just a moment too late that they've dropped contact as the normally graceful hero crashes full tilt into a shopping cart just two steps in front of them. Thankfully, he keeps his footing, but he winces internally nonetheless. Aizawa is muttering an apology, but the owner of the cart is already gone to see what the ruckus is. I'm supposed to be helping him, he scolds himself as he turns back.
"I'm here," Toshinori says softly. "Old habits, eh?" His attempt at levity falls flat when Aizawa rounds on him. He's not sure what he expected, but as he takes in the rapid rise and fall of Aizawa's chest and the width of his stance it's apparent that he's more scared than angry at the moment. His heart aches at the sight. Swallowing hard, he extends a hand between them. "My hand is in front of you. Is it okay for me to touch you?" he asks levelly.
Even from a few steps away, Aizawa's breathing is ragged. Waiting for an answer seems to take years, but finally Aizawa reaches out in his direction. It's all the permission he needs to scoop him close. Another crash sounds just beyond the doors of the store, and he settles them both against one of the vegetable bins.
"It's okay. Sounds like it's just some thug stirring up trouble," Toshinori soothes rubbing small circles into Aizawa's wrist with his thumb. Despite the fact that he is itching to go out there and stop the problem this instant his logical side argues that not only would he be leaving his colleague in a situation where he would not be able to navigate or move freely, but that there is also no chance of him handling the issue and slipping away before a veritable media hurricane descended on the area. That would leave Aizawa waiting alone even longer. This time, he'd have to let the other heroes handle it.
"It's okay. I'll be okay," Aizawa says as though sensing the taller man's desire to be out there. Still, even though his breathing is settled almost completely his hands are still shaking.
"Nah. If you can wait it out this round so can I," he argues before shifting to get a bit more comfortable. "Besides, it wouldn't be very heroic to leave someone you're supposed to be helping behind."
Shouta isn't sure what to say to that. On one hand, he can't help but feel irritated that Yagi is coddling him. On the other, the man has a point. He wouldn't leave another person behind if he'd been charged with them specifically. Still, it left a bad taste in his mouth. He wasn't able to think on it too long as the clear sound of something exploding on the street was followed by deep tremors through the floor of the store. Somewhere to his right he hears a child scream in distress and immediately launched to his feet only to be pulled back down by Yagi.
"There's a freezer that way," the older hero points out calmly. "We can head that way if you want, but there are some large windows that I'd rather not have exploding in at us."
Swallowing his initial anger at being stopped, Shouta nods. It makes sense, all things considered. "Yeah, we can make sure they're not alone."
"Okay, I'll lead the way," Yagi affirms guiding Shouta to his feet. Despite his thinner frame, Shouta is surprised by how solid his grip is. It's not painful or overbearing, but supportive and comfortable. He lets himself be pulled along resisting the urge to brush his burned hand along the route to try to map the area.
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Toshinori kept a close watch over Aizawa once the villain had been taken care of. The whole attack lasted maybe fifteen minutes before heroes arrived on the scene to deal with the situation. Another ten before the staff and shoppers at the grocery store to go back about their business. They were back to Aizawa's place in under an hour even with the detour to avoid the more damaged areas of the streets. His gaze kept flickering to the man beside him as they walked. In spite of how calm he acted now Toshinori couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Aizawa hadn't completely settled down from the out of sorts, and, frankly, panicked man that he'd glimpsed for a moment at the store.
Anyone worth calling a pro hero would be able to do what he'd seen, but he knew from experience that it didn't just make the feelings disappear. You had to reckon with them sooner or later. Still, he couldn't tell which one it would be. Even with the random bursts of loudness that came with walking through a city the smaller man seemed to be keeping calm. He didn't feel him flinch or hesitate as they walked.
"We're back," Toshinori announced before guiding Aizawa through the door and to the elevator.
"I hope you don't mind. That whole thing left me a bit tired," he lied, not wanting to make Aizawa feel his way up four flights of stairs.
"It's fine."
Toshinori frowned. Normally he'd get caught on a lie like that even if it was just an eye roll or a sigh. He resisted the urge to ask the obvious. If he asked if Aizawa was alright he'd either get a flat out denial or get ignored if his previous experiences held true. Toshinori tugged absently at his bangs while he tried to figure out how to move along with the day.
"You're fidgeting," Aizawa remarked dryly as the elevator lurched into motion.
"Ah, sorry."
"Don't apologize..." Aizawa tucked his chin slightly before he spoke, "I...wanted to say thank you for staying with me earlier. You really didn't have to."
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Toshinori's lips. He'd had time enough before this to recognize the younger man's nervous habit. He swallowed the reflex to say something All-Mightish and risk the moment of honesty. "I would have been more worried leaving you there with everything going on to be honest."
"I see."
With the soft ding announcing that they'd reached their destination the moment vanished as Aizawa resumed his typical nonchalant demeanor. The light touch at Toshinori’s side almost made him jump as Aizawa gingerly reached his bandaged hand out to find him. Managing not to chuckle at the turnaround since that morning the blonde reached his hand out to rest on Aizawa’s shoulder as he guided the way back to the smaller man’s apartment.
“You get some rest and I’ll start on this,” Toshinori said, giving the bag of groceries a light shake for effect. Aizawa moved away with a grunt of affirmation in the direction of the bedroom letting his hand trace the hallway as he went. For some reason Toshinori had expected more of an argument even knowing that his co-worker could fall asleep at apparently any time anywhere. There was a heavy thump from the other room, which he assumed meant that Aizawa had gotten into bed though it was possible that falling into bed might have been more accurate. Toshinori peered down the hall as he set about unpacking the groceries to see Aizawa already under the blanket with his boots thrown to the side. Shaking his head with a smile, Toshinori got to work.
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Shouta’s hand stung from catching himself when he tripped over the corner of his futon. All in all, he was getting better at this, but it was still off putting not to be able to tell where things were. He resolved to count his steps around the apartment next time grateful that he’d been alone when he tumbled into bed. It was bad enough that he’d lost his cool in front of Yagi after making a fool of himself earlier that day. Not that he would ever admit it to them, but he had to agree that Nemuri and Hizashi were right about him needing to learn to let people help him without throwing a fit about it. He lay quietly in bed recounting the events at the store. The loudness and helplessness that he has only felt a couple times in his life. For the moment he is acutely aware of the sounds of Yagi moving about his apartment as his brain unhelpfully informs him that the last time he couldn’t see anymore he almost died. He can still almost feel the ghost of Yagi’s hands on his wrist and across his shoulders as he focuses on his breathing and reminds himself that this is nothing like what happened at the USJ.
Whether it was from the incident at the store or letting himself think about the USJ, Shouta woke up panting with pain lancing up his arm from wherever he’d thrown himself. He blinked trying to get his bearings. When that didn’t work he began reaching up expecting to touch bandages and found nothing. His chest hurt and his throat felt raw as his sleep-blurred mind tried to sort out what was real and what was a dream.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just work on breathing right now okay?”
The voice was familiar. Distantly, he pieced together that the person near him was a friend. Shouta extended a hand in the direction of their voice and felt soft fabric under his fingers. He tried and failed to say something about being okay and asking where he was as he clutched at the person’s shirt. Without warning, the person pulled him into a hug rumbling for him to breathe with them.
He recognized from the voice and smell that this wasn’t Hizashi as he tried to slow down and think. His thoughts were still scattering, but the deep voice in his ear kept interrupting him before he could get too far.
“In, wait...now out. It’s okay. We’re right in your apartment. You’re okay.”
His apartment? He closed his eyes and held on while he focused on matching the breaths he was being told to take. The smell of detergent, tea, and some sort of shampoo he couldn’t place washed over him every breath. It wasn’t long before he remembered that he was at home, that he wasn’t about to die, and that the person with him was Yagi. Oh good, twice in a day, he inwardly grimaced. How was he supposed to call himself a pro or a teacher if he couldn’t keep his shit together with just this. A small voice that sounded aggravatingly like his best friend told him that it was because he’d tried to ignore it in the first place.
Slowly, Shouta got himself together, gradually noticing different things. The first was that Yagi smelled good, the second was that he had put Shouta’s hand on his chest to feel when he was breathing. Yagi was gently squeezing his shoulder and was keeping up a low but near constant string of words that he was steadily registering more of. On top of it all he noticed that his eyes burned and that his face was embarrassingly wet. He’d had a bad enough panic attack to cry. Wonderful.
Shouta leaned back a bit to scrub at his face with his good hand rapidly trying to come up with a reason to be left alone. He couldn’t do this with Yagi here. He had to have some level of dignity left. He opened his mouth to tell Yagi that he was fine now, hiccuped, swore, and gave up to lean his forehead against the older man’s bony shoulder since the universe apparently hated him. The way that Yagi gently but firmly pulled him closer and began smoothing his hair was all the excuse Shouta needed to let himself fall back to sleep.
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Toshinori sat quietly as Aizawa slowly went limp against him. Rationally, he knew that everyone in their profession had nightmares, but it was still a shock to see it. He’d only just gotten everything put away in the fridge to let the soba cool when he’d heard the shouting and clatter from Aizawa’s room. He took a long shaky breath through his nose to calm himself down now that the initial shock was over. It took him a few minutes to notice that he was still running his fingers through long dark locks of hair as he focused on keeping himself from stressing out too much and potentially waking Aizawa up again.
When he’d settled down enough to actually believe that it had all just been a panic attack and that they were both fine Toshinori tried to carefully extricate himself from his sleeping colleague. He was about as successful as their students were at not getting in over their heads as Aizawa held tightly onto the front of his shirt. Looking down at the younger man with a sigh, Toshinori patted around behind himself for a pillow and blanket to get settled in The last thing he wanted to do was wake the dark haired man up so soon after he’d started breathing easily again.
Getting there was a bit of an event, but he eventually got them both laying down with a blanket over Aizawa and a pillow under his own head. His intention had been to wait for however long it would take the sleeping man to release his shirt so that he could sneak back out. “Had”, he discovered, would be the operative word as the warmth and weight of Aizawa against his side and his own fatigue from the day soon had him drifting off himself.