Chapter Text
A beeping heart monitor meant one thing in the line of hero duty: safety. It was something all heroes at one point woke up to. It was a comfortability, a sign that they were alive and hopefully on the mend.
So, Aizawa relaxed when he woke up to the shrill noise of one. It did nothing helpful to the pounding in his head, but it was a small issue that could be remedied with a push of a button. All he had to do was find it.
Without opening his eyes, his hand travelled across the stiff blankets of his hospital bed in search of the nurse’s button.
“Shou?” A familiar voice warmed the space Aizawa’s chest. “Are you awake, babe?”
Aizawa grunted, peeling back his eyelids. A blur of something yellow filled his vision.
“Hey,” Hizashi said, the blur moved closer, and something warm and calloused enclosed around his hand, or at least where he thought his hand was. Everything felt slightly off as if his body was actually an inch across from where he thought it was. “How are you feeling?”
Aizawa blinked a few more times, letting his husband’s form sharpen. He was another sign of safety when everything felt unsure. To his hair, pulled back out of his face and greasy; to the warm jumper that was frayed at the sleeves from worried picking; to the blackened bags under red-stained eyes that almost rivalled his own. It was almost normal to see Hizashi like that. It had only been a few months since the USJ. How many more times did he have to wake up to his husband looking like that?
“Groggy,” Aizawa grumbled, “tired.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“Hospital.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
A crease formed between his eyebrows. Something happened. Obviously. And it led to him being hospitalised. But when he tried to think back, his memories didn’t come to him.
“No.”
“You and Shinso-.”
“Shinsou!” Aizawa lurched forward. It didn’t matter that the drugs seemed to vanish, ignoring its job of burying the pain. And it didn’t matter that his body screamed at him to lie back down. Nor did it matter when his feet touched the cold, hospital floor and his legs buckled from underneath him. He didn’t remember what happened, not completely, but it didn’t matter. His student was involved and-.
“Shouta!” Hizashi’s hands clamped onto his shoulders. “I swear if you hurt yourself.”
A flash of heat flickered in his memory. It was too hot, too much. It felt like it was about to take his breath away again. Was there an explosion?
“Is he?” Aizawa gasped, fighting against the panic that threatened to swarm him.
“He’s fine. A little beat up, but he’s alive. He woke up this morning, but he’s gone back to sleep.” Hizashi pulled him to a stop. “Calm down, Shouta.” Hizashi took a deep breath, nudging Aizawa to mimic him. It took a few attempts until Aizawa was able to breathe without feeling like a fish out of water. “Now get back into bed, or I’ll throw out all your jelly pouches and then you’ll be sorry.”
Knowing that his student was safe and alive, Aizawa allowed Hizashi to help him back into bed. A series of nurses came filling into his room as he laid down. It wasn’t just his body screaming at him when he leapt from the bed. Several wires hung listlessly from the heart monitor, and a bead of blood pooled on the back of his hand from where he ripped his IV.
The nurses fussed over him as they pricked him again, mentioning something about not pulling out IV’s, and not being allowed to move too much. He closed his eyes, not caring, as they did what they needed to. Hopefully, Chiyo would come and fix him, so he didn’t have to stay in the hospital any longer than he needed or wanted to.
Finally, the room fell into silence as the nurses left, satisfied that he wasn’t going to move again after Hizashi’s oath that he wouldn’t allow Shouta to even scratch his arse. (It was a completely unnecessary comment). He would have scowled at it, but instead, he sighed, defeated at the harsh, scrutinizing glare his husband gave him.
“I can’t believe you threatened a dying man,” Aizawa said, unable to hide his smirk like he normally would behind his scarf.
“I’d do it again!” Hizashi barked, before slumping down in the chair next to Aizawa’s bed, burning his face into his hand. He looked smaller than he usually did. Well, Hzashi always looked smaller than Present Mic, but right now, Aizawa had only seen Hizashi like this one other time. The image echoed something from their past, one that didn’t need to be opened now. Though, Aizawa suspected it was already too late. “You scared me real bad this time.”
Aizawa said nothing. Apologising didn’t feel logical. He’d do it again. It was his job. And even if it wasn’t, he would do it over and over again. If it meant his students would live, Aizawa would throw himself at anything that came after them.
“Were any of the other student’s targeted?” Aizawa asked.
“No. Just Shinsou.” Hizashi blew away a strand of his hair that had loosened from his bun. “You really need to stop influencing him so much, Shouta. He did the same thing as you when he woke up. Bulldozing through the nurses to check on you.”.
“He’s okay?” Aizawa tentatively asked.
“He’s out of the woods. Both of you are. Chiyo did what she could, but-.” Hizashi took a deep breath through his nose. “Your back is going to scar.”
Scaring wasn’t anything new. Every hero had them. Aizawa had several, his newest from the USJ attack. Hizashi had his own, his worst hidden under his direction speaker. It was one of the reasons for the direction speaker in the first place. The scar was barely visible anymore, but under the right light, a white band wrapped around his throat. It had been just as he was beginning to make a name for himself as the voice hero, Present Mic. Due to his rising popularity, his quirk was public knowledge, and therefore vulnerable to villain attacks. He almost died that day and would have if a hero with a time-freezing quirk hadn’t saved him.
Judging from his husband’s face, Aizawa guessed this scar out beat any of his other ones.
“It’s bad, Shou. Chiyo wants another session with you to combat the worst of it. She said it’s still going to pinch when you move.”
“I can deal with it.”
“Mhmm.” Hizashi gave him a sceptical look. It was a battle that would be had back home.
“Has Chiyo seen Shinsou?”
“She has, but he barely had enough stamina. She’s already seen him twice,” he said. “You shielded him from the worst of the blast. His head took the brunt of the blast. The kiddo gave himself one hell of a concussion. The doctors had to put him into a medically induced coma to relieve the swelling.”
Guilt swamped him at the thought of Shinsou stuck in a hospital bed, swarmed by wired and breathing tubes.
“What even happened, Shouta? It was supposed to be a routine patrol.”
Aizawa frowned, sighing harshly.
“It was meant to be. I sent the kid home while I was going to head to the station. I told him to text me when he got in, but he never did. Some woman grabbed him. I don’t know how she managed it, maybe the kid was tired or just too busy being in his own head as usual. But however she did it, she did it to get back at me.”
“At you?”
Aizawa nodded.
“You remember that case with a Mr Okada?” Hizashi nodded. “His daughter’s the one who took Shinsou. She wanted revenge.”
“But you didn’t kill her father.”
“Doesn’t matter. He died under my watch, and she wanted to make sure Shinsou did too.”
“He’s just a kid!” Hizashi shouted, shooting up from his chair.
“All the more reason.” Aizawa could feel a headache pressing behind his eyes. “Has she been caught?”
“Tsukauchi said someone came forward after we found you, but I wasn’t really listening. It’s been one hell of a week.”
Aizawa was glad the villain was off the streets. It meant that the rest of his kids were safe, (at least from her). It was one less problem he had to deal with. But another five more added to his plate. There were charges that now had to be pressed against her. His wounds needed to heal. He’d have to find substitutes for his class, and help Shinsou catch back up to the rest of his classmates. The kid already felt like he was behind and after a week in the hospital, he was probably already mulling over how much studying he needed to do.
It really was meant to be a routine patrol.
“Shouta.” His husband's voice smoothed against his ear. He looked up and found him smiling warmly, as though he was amused at him. “You’re scowling.” And then his face morphed, mirroring the expression of Aizawa’s face, jutting out his lower lip and frowning deeply.
“I do not look like that,” Aizawa said, flatly.
“I can take a photo?” Hizashi pulled out his phone.
Aizawa rolled his eyes and lowered himself back onto his pillow, sinking into it.
“Fuck off.”
Hizashi laughed, moved to the side of the bed, and said, “I’ll let you rest, Sho.” And placed a kiss on Aizawa’s forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay. I love you.”
Aizawa closed his eyes in the safety of Hizashi’s presence. “I love you too.”
He let sleep take him. He’d visit Shinsou when he woke up.
---
It turned out that Aizawa didn’t need to visit Shinsou. Upon waking up, he realised several things. The room was dark with only the city lights shining through the blinds; his husband was gone, probably catching up on his own sleep and preparing Aizawa’s hell class (someone had to do it if he was currently in hospital); and thirdly, there was someone asleep at the end of his bed.
A shock of lavender hair rested near his feet. His mouth was slightly agape with a string of drool that ran down his chin and formed a little wet patch on the blanket. There were yellowing bruises along his jaw and under his eyes, ruining the image of how peaceful the kid looked.
Despite how happy Aizawa was to see the kid, he knew sleeping half draped onto the bed while sitting in a plastic hospital chair was going to ruin his back.
“Shinsou.”
The kid woke in an instant, his eyes snapping open and his body lurching itself onto his feet. He stumbled back, his arms waving through the air to catch his balance.
“Whoa, kid.” Aizawa sat up and latched onto his arm, pulling Shinsou upright. “You okay?”
Shinsou gave him a wide-eyed look before rubbing at them with the palms of his hands. It was then that Aizawa noticed the bandages wrapped around the digits, tightly packing them together. He studied the rest of him in the dim light. There were more bandages underneath his hospital gown; his nose, though fixed, was still slightly swollen. Though, what really caught Aizawa’s attention was the shortened sides of Shinsou’s head. He hadn’t noticed it when the kid was asleep, but now he could see the true mess of his student’s hair. It was as though someone had hacked at it with a pair of blunt scissors. He still had his wild purple locks on top, but even they were shorter, and the sides were completely shaven.
“What happened to your hair?” Aizawa asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I could ask the same, old man.” Shinsou smirked.
Aizawa raised his hand to his head and found the back of it short and choppy. It was only hair, but a part of him found himself distinctively horrified by the shortness of it. He couldn’t even remember a time when it had been shorter than his ears.
He ran his hand through the short clips of hair before glaring at Shinsou’s grin.
“Wait until your class sees your new look,” Shinsou said, tauntingly. “Mina will squeal.” Aizawa dignified him with another glare.
The pair relaxed into the jovial atmosphere they created. It was light, despite being in a hospital. Everything for a moment was weightless.
Shinsou settled back into the plastic chair, resting his chin against his palm that leant on the bed. It looked awkward, especially as he tried not to touch his mending fingers. Eventually, he gave up with a sigh and folded his arms across his chest instead, leaning back against the chair. He flinched as his back hit the plastic and winced. It was quiet, only a small tug at the corner of his lips and the softest of breaths, but Aizawa noticed.
“Did a nurse bring you, or did you escape your room?”
It was quick. A flush of red on his cheeks, but it was gone in seconds, hidden as Shinsou tucked his head, hiding it in the dimness of the room.
“You going to send me back?” Shinsou asked, almost challengingly.
“I have orders to stay in bed and not move.” Aizawa shrugged, with a curl at the edge of his lips. Shinsou mirrored him.
Silence settled over them again. Comfortable. Warm. Familiar. It reminded Aizawa of when the pair of them would finish their training sessions and relax against the gym wall. Neither of them would say anything as they sipped from the juice pouches Aizawa packed for them. It was a time for Shinsou to absorb all that he learnt, but it was also just time to be. Time to let the world pass them without worrying about exams, or foster parents, or heroes.
Aizawa was used to doing it after his patrols, sitting on the fire escape of his old apartment, hugging a cup of coffee in his hands.
Sometimes listening to the loudness around them, from the chattering of students as they left for the dorms, to the ever-present hum of cicadas, to the heat of the sun on the back of their head, was the best form of silence.
It allowed time for Aizawa to think how lucky he was that his student, his protege, his kid, was still alive, sitting an arms width away from him.
But while Aizawa could take his collective thoughts and silence any doubtful ones with what sat as living proof in front of him, he could see that it wasn’t the same for Shinsou. The kid was kneading his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes picking at the tuffs in the hospital blanket, lost deep in his own thoughts.
“What’s going on in that head, Shinsou?” Aizawa asked.
Shinsou’s eyebrows bunched, and his lip was finally freed from his teeth and was instead pulled into a taut line.
“Do you still think I can be a hero?” The words were so quiet Aizawa almost missed them.
“I don’t waste my time with people who have zero potential. You know this.” Aizawa sat up straighter, wincing as the gown rubbed at his sore back awkwardly.
“But I got caught and I’m the reason we-.”
Aizawa held up a hand.
“No. The reason we are here is because a villain decided that a child must pay for the mistake of adults. If it is anyone’s fault, it is her’s, and then mine. I should have escorted you back to the dorms. I let my guard down and you paid for it.”
“I’m not a kid. I should have been able to get home by myself. I’ve done it all my life. This time shouldn’t have been any different.”
“Except now you’re a hero-in-training. You’re a target. It was a careless mistake on my part. One that I am truly sorry for, Shinsou.”
Shinsou shook his head.
“There’s no arguing with me on this. As an adult, your teacher, your mentor, I am responsible for you. While I will always teach my students to be aware that a villain will take any advantage they can gain, it is never your fault if one does manage to hurt you. Do you understand?”
Shinsou shrugged, jutting out his lower lip in a childish pout.
“Shinsou.”
“Yes, sir.”
Aizawa made a grunt of approval before leaning forward, ruffling his hand through Shinsou’s hair, mindful of the healing burns on his ears.
“Aizawa?” Shinsou’s voice was quiet.
“Mmh?”
“Thanks for coming for me.”
Warmth blossomed in Aizawa’s chest.
“Always, kid.”