Work Text:
Izuku sways, his mind not seeming to move in tandem with his body, and he's pretty sure his heart is racing faster than his feet but he's only distantly aware of either, so he just keeps on moving without allowing himself to stop, because if he stops then he won't be able to start again and he needs-
Something gives. Maybe it was the ground or his ankle or his resolve, maybe some combination of them all even, Izuku doesn't know, nor does he have the time or mental space to register it, because suddenly he's on the ground and his lungs are tight with dirt even though he hasn't swallowed anything, mouth flooding with ferrous-cloying rust so maybe he bit his tongue or something, Izuku doesn't know, the world blurring and his body wrong, but then he doesn't really know anything at all.
~~~
Aizawa is fed up. His kids, his hellspawn... He loves them, honestly, even if he can only admit it to himself and probably Eri, would do anything for them because the kids bloody deserve it, but they're also complete and utter imbeciles sometimes, foolish hellions, and somehow most of them never seem to learn. And Problem Child, even more than Bakugou or Ashido or Todoroki, is certainly the worst offender. The kid's just stubborn, through and through.
Which is why the hero really shouldn't be surprised that it's his Problem Child that is halfway between the dorms and the UA woods, the ping on Aizawa's phone for an unregistered ID card for curfew making far too much sense now.
"Kid?" he calls, jogging along the path and admittedly picking his pace up slightly upon seeing a fallen body in some of the faint shadows between the lampposts lighting UA's main pathways. There's no evidence of blood or disturbed surroundings, nothing that necessarily suggests foul play, and he can already see the kid's breathing, the rise-and-fall of his chest. It's reassuring, he can admit.
Not as reassuring as kneeling beside his Problem Child and slipping a hand against his pulse point, counting heartbeats and silently taking comfort from how it's steady, if still a bit too fast and definitely faint. This kid. What's Aizawa meant to do at this point, when Midoriya has refused to change or listen up until now? Well, he's going to have to change his own approach, that much is obvious. It won't be the first time Aizawa has had to deal with a chronic over-worker, whether in this class or before, and whilst Problem Child is the most extreme case he's had to deal with, that doesn't mean that he can't or won't deal with it. Problem Child deserves the chance after all.
Sighing, the hero leans forward to scoop the kid up. He's a compact thing, heavy for his height, but Aizawa's definitely carried heavier things and people, and he doesn't even hesitate before settling the kid against his chest, safe and sound.
"You can't keep doing this, kid. You can't." He doesn't mean to say it out loud, particularly not when the kid is apparently half-awake, but the head against his chest stirs slightly, dark eyes blinking partway open,
"M'sorry Se'sei." Nedzu dammit, this class are more than out for his heart, aren't they?
"I know, kid, I know. We can talk about it in the morning, alright? Just rest for now." Curls shift in a nod against his collarbone, the reply as much a hum as words,
"Mmkay." And then his Problem Child is asleep again. Or well, asleep rather than unconscious. Aizawa will take it. Hopefully the kid won't wake up between now and being settled on a sofa in the hero's dormitory flat, because things need to happen in the morning, and for tonight the kid needs to stay asleep with maybe a purring cat on his chest.
(When morning comes, they will indeed need to have a discussion. Probably several, actually, over the course of multiple occasions, because if there's one kid that can and will drive themselves into the ground, it's his Problem Child, tonight having been case in point. The kid's strong and brave and determined, which are excellent qualities for a hero, but Aizawa needs to make sure he remembers to be a teenager, a student, as well. If sometimes that means offering a night on his sofa with cats and blankets and something trashy and mindless on telly, if it means being a silent presence to rely on, then it's certainly not something he begrudges doing. No, Aizawa honestly quite likes it too.)