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The phone started ringing.
The alarm clock cast a blue light reading out 2:14am. The apartment was silent except for the two sets of breathing patterns, nearly synced.
The phone started ringing disrupting the peace.
Shota Aizawa was for once asleep beside his husband at a time when most people would be asleep on a Friday night.
He was asleep with Hizashi's arm thrown across him as the other man snuggled into him when the phone started ringing and woke him with a jolt.
His little demon box of a cell phone was ringing, lighting up the area with the muted glow of his lock screen.
Hizashi shifted as Shota moved away to grab his phone, not hearing the obnoxious noise without his hearing aids.
With his eyes still mostly shut Shota put the device up to his ear, answering instantly with his usual monotone voice.
“Aizawa.”
“…I woke you, didn’t I?” a soft, young voice asked.
Shota straightened up at the voice, pulling his mind farther from its sleepy state, and shifted to lean against the bed's headboard.
“What’s wrong kid?” he asked, a kindness in his voice that was reserved for special occasions. His kid, Rabbit, Izuku, was definitely special.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding truly apologetic. “Tonight’s just been… hard.”
It was quiet for a moment before Shota's voice came out dry with a hint of not-at-all-hidden disappointment. “I thought we came to an agreement about your patrolling, kid.”
There was a sharp exhale, a quiet laugh, from the kid. “My facial recognition got a ping so I had to go track down a lead,” he explained with a smirk in his voice.
“Well, what happened?” Shota questioned. There was a stretch of silence too long for Shota's liking. “Kid? Rabbit?”
There was a shaky intake of breath before the kid's voice came out in a broken whisper. “I got… trapped.”
At that, he froze. Something was definitely wrong wrong. His kid had never sounded like that before and he’d been in some pretty shitty situations. Even when he’d broken his foot and was stranded on a rooftop he didn’t sound like that.
In the entire two years Shota had known him, had sat with him through panic attacks and learned his history, in the two years that was nearly the entirety of his vigilante career Shota had never heard him sound so broken and defeated.
“Where are you?” Shota asked sharply, already getting out of bed and pulling on the first pair of pants he could find.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” he assured quickly, “it just got me thinking.”
“Kid. Where. Are you.” Shota repeated, letting his desperation show through his voice. He stumbled around the dark room quickly yanking on a shirt and grabbing his capture weapon.
“I’m ok Zawa,” Izuku stated, making the man step back and sit sharply on the bed.
Hizashi stirred behind him, finally realizing something was up, and sat up slowly before crawling across the bed to put a hand on Shota's arm.
“Kid…”
“I just wanted to let you know that I would’ve accepted your offer,” he told him. “I was going to tomorrow when we met up for patrol.”
“Was? You’re still going to, aren’t you? Just tell me where you are,” he asked, more desperate as he stood and quickly headed to the living room to grab the rest of his gear.
Hizashi frowned, watching his clearly distraught husband leave their room before quickly reaching to get a hold of his hearing aids.
“The world's gonna be the same tomorrow as it was today,” the kid said, “I’d like to think I made a difference but we both know that nothing much will change.”
“Izuku!” Shota snapped, voice breaking as he forced his boots on, cursing the high laces. “Where are you?”
“The second I was hit it was too late,” he whispered, voice much softer than it was when he first spoke.
Hizashi was kneeling beside him then, keeping a steady grip on his arm and Shota knew if he wasn’t already sitting he would’ve collapsed. His husband's eyes bore into his own, pleading for an explanation but Shota could barely breathe much less explain to him what was happening.
“It’s ok Zawa. I’m… I'm ok with it. I just… just wanted you to know,” he said weakly, a forced sound of peace in his voice.
Shota took a shaky breath, stealing his voice and choking out a few words. “Tell me where you are, kid. I’ll come get you. You’ll be fine-“
“-I don’t want you to have to be the one to find me-“
“-Everything will be fine kid. I don’t care as long as you’re alright. That’s all the matters-“
“-I will be alright. I’ve already lived much longer than I should’ve-“
“-I am going to go get you and you are going to come home . You're fifteen. You’re a kid . You are my kid . You have a life to live, okay? A long life. You’re gonna be fine. It’ll be okay.”
Hizashi was already holding him, having caught on quickly to what was happening. He had him pulled to his chest where Shota leaned on him heavily, shaking and struggling to breathe.
“You’re okay. Just tell me where you are-“
“I love you…”
“Izuku you are not dying.”
“…dad.”
“You are okay, do you understand? It’ll be alright, kid. I love you too, now tell me where you are-“ he could hear the phone clatter to the ground and there was a moment of silence before Shota breaks .
“Izuku! Izuku pick up the goddamn phone!” he begs, pulling away from Hizashi who keeps a steady grip on his hand and as he takes a step closer to the door. “Izuku answer me-“ His voice breaks as he loses his footing, collapsing in the entryway to his home.
The home he shared with his husband and they would’ve shared with their child.
“Izuku please,” he whispers desperately, hearing only silence from the other end, tears already pouring from his eyes.
He drops his phone as Hizashi pulls him close, one arm around him and the other holding his head to his chest.
And he sobs .
A kid is dead.
His child is dead. Gone.
He would never get to go to high school, or make actual friends, or just be a kid.
He would never get to see the room they have for him. Never get to decorate it.
The room would stay a white, barren, impersonal reminder of what could have been but never was.
A reminder of the child the hero failed to save.