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Nezu's voice crackled to life across the comms.
Of course the rat had managed to access them, he thought with derision.
“I’ve connected the comms of UA staff, plus Battle Fist and Ingenium, across the operation. Each of you, confirm your safety and any hero students assigned to you.”
“Let’s begin with the support teams, since most students were assigned to those,” Nezu chirped. “Battle Fist, report from the Gunga Rear Guard.”
After a moment's delay, Kendo's voice came through. Loud and clear. “No major injuries. The students helping with the advance guard's initial attack have all joined us. We're reassembled at triage. But I don't have eyes on Creati, Grape Juice, Pinky, Sugarman, or Red Riot.”
Aizawa tightened his hold on his capture weapon tourniquet and his jaw clenched. “Of course, my stu-”
“I will add Creati, just a moment.”
It was silent aside from the distant clacking of Nezu's keyboard. No admonitions, nor words of comfort, came in reply.
Aizawa released the pressure on his eye briefly, deciding that was better than slackening the tourniquet. Pain bloomed across his face and warmth poured down his cheek. He hurried to tap his earpiece.
He ground out words through his grit teeth. “Can you hear me?”
A few seconds of silence. He cursed to himself, returning his hand to his eye. It was slick and hot, harder to maintain pressure on. The blood seeped between his fingers. He focused instead on the relief brought by reapplying pressure.
That, too, was forgotten almost instantly. Yaoyoruzu was sobbing into his ear.
“Creati,” Nezu interrupted with uncharacteristic gentleness. “Are Grape Juice, Pinky, Sugarman, or Red Riot with you?”
She gasped, then there was a beep.
“Apologies, we cannot hear you. I had already taken the liberty of activating your microphone.”
Another beep. “Yes, of course Ne- um, I mean, Mr. Principal.” Her voice sounded strained though she had stopped crying. “We are all together. With Midnight-sensei.”
“Ah, I didn’t know she had separated from the advance guard. Are there injuries?” Nezu nudged her through the protocol.
“All the students are fine. Midnight-sensei, when we found her –,” Yaoyorozu choked.
Aizawa's chest tightened and he tried tapping at his earpiece again, over and over. “Creati…? Creati?”
He gagged, unsure if it was from the searing pain or the blood dripping into his mouth. Either way, there was no beep of his microphone cutting in and no reply to his words. Whatever they were dealing with, he couldn't coach them through it. Aizawa knew his colleagues could just as well, but this was his student and his injured friend.
Just as he lifted his hand back toward his eye, Yaoyorozu's voice returned.
“She's gone, sir.”
Everything, every thought and sensation, fell away. Of course he knew that serious injury and death were at risk any time they went out. The three of them knew that better than anyone after losing Oboro right before their eyes. But now there were only two.
What if there were only one?
He gagged again, though this time because of his traitorous thoughts. At least it brought him back to himself.
“--in 3 minutes,” Cementos’ voice filtered in. “Stay there and stay together until I arrive, Creati.”
It seemed he hadn't missed other updates, which was helpful since he couldn't ask anyone to repeat themselves.
That took care of UA’s presence at Gunga Villa.
Aizawa jumped at the field medic dropping to a knee beside him. He realized he’d mostly released the tourniquet and held it tight before pointing to Iida.
The medic pressed his lips into a tight line.
“If you think you're touching me before my students are out of this place,” he growled, “I would be happy to correct that assumption.”
The medic huffed in annoyance. “If you think I’m shirking my duty because of your stubbornness, I would be happy to correct that assumption.”
Nemuri would like this one. Aizawa’s eye burned. Or at least she would have.
“Do something about this eye so I can focus on keeping pressure around my leg. Good enough?”
“And two units of blood,” the medic challenged as he waved a colleague over to Iida. “Otherwise you're on the next transport instead.”
“Type B negative,” Aizawa muttered. He barely registered the medic going through the motions of checking the tourniquet’s effectiveness and shouting to another for three units.
The medic had the audacity to smirk in reply to his glare.
In his ear, he heard Nezu swap over to Froppy when Ingenium didn't answer. Aizawa looked at the boy across from him and grimaced. He couldn't reassure them that Iida was okay.
“Uravity, Comicman, Anima, and I are helping search for civilians. No noteworthy injuries, ribbit. Midoriya and Bakugo left early on, then Iida and Shouto went to find them when everything began to decay. I don't know what happened to them.”
Nezu sighed. Aizawa could relate.
The medic began to work on his eye.
“Thirteen?"
“I'm moving further out to assist recovery efforts outside of the decay area. I'll be of greater use there,” they answered.
“Snipe?” Nezu continued.
“Helping wrangle the doctor to a secure location.” Snipe's voice had a sharp edge to it.
Good, Aizawa thought. The medic finished with his eye, just in time to help another medic move a stretcher. He watched as the pair loaded Todoroki into a helicopter alongside Iida. Iida was beginning to stir.
Aizawa looked around. No more students on the field, no one else with critical injuries. Only a dozen or so with minor injuries scattered about, helping each other.
His chest loosened a tiny amount, but he still glared as the medic returned to swap in a second unit of blood.
“Ectoplasm?”
“Receiving helipad lifts to Central Hospital since all my clones have my access to their UA health records. So far I’ve dispatched clones to Midoriya and Bakugo. We just got radioed that Todoroki and Iida are stable and en route.”
“Present Mic?”
What if there was only one? his mind supplied in the extended silence.
“Mic isn't talkin’,” Snipe said softly. “Not even a sound. Between wanting to have a go at that doc and the news about Midnight, I think he's afraid to lose control of his quirk.”
A short pause.
“He's listenin’ though, and he nodded at that.”
“Understood,” Nezu answered.
Had the rat ever sounded this tired? He was forgetting to put on his cheery & in-control tone.
“Eraserhead?"
Fuck. I can't answer and Hizashi is already on the verge of a breakdown. He pulled on his capture weapon as hard as he could, an involuntary cry tearing from his lips. He began to shake violently. For Zashi…
He closed his eye in an attempt to block out the pain shooting all the way up his spine.
Why am I laying down?
He looked over to the medic's determined face. He began the third unit of blood, holding it between his teeth so gravity could help speed its flow.
“Just me and you,” the medic said around the bag. “Next lift is ours, okay?”
Aizawa blinked his eye, forcing it to focus.
“Okay?” the medic repeated with greater urgency.
Oh. He wanted an answer.
“Yeah,” Aizawa croaked. He let the man take the capture weapon from his hands and begin to work on Aizawa’s leg.
“I’m Hibino, by the way,” the medic said. “One of those kids called you Aizawa-sensei?”
Trying to keep me awake, Aizawa thought numbly as he nodded. I'm going into shock.
Hibino smiled broadly. “I never thought as much of my teachers as they think of you. You must be something special.”
“Nah, ‘m ‘n as’h'le.”
Hibino laughed. “Really?”
“‘s jus’ Stock'lm synd–”
Hibino was suddenly right in his face, smile gone. “Hey!”
Aizawa looked at him.
“You stopped in the middle of a word,” Hibino said, taking the bag of blood out from between his teeth and assessing it critically.
“Oh,” Aizawa replied.
Hibino scanned the skies, then put the nearly empty bag onto Aizawa’s chest. He took off his coat and lay it over the shock blanket already covering Aizawa.
When did that get there? he thought dazedly.
“Do you have someone waiting for you at home?” Hibino asked.
Aizawa grumbled.
It fell quiet and Hibino began to clean Aizawa’s face. A real chore with his stubble.
“You're w’ried,” Aizawa breathed, allowing his eye to close but taking Hibino's free hand to tap his index finger on it steadily. He didn't want Hibino to panic.
Hibino sighed softly anyway. “See, that's why your kids talk about you like that."
He huffed through his nose. "Not my kids."
Hibino didn't justify that with an answer, he just kept talking. "I shouldn't have let you convince me to wait. Now the med-evacs are taking forever to come back for us.”
Aizawa cracked his eye open. “Can’ o’ly be one, ‘ibino.”
Hibino was confused. Of course he had no idea what Aizawa was talking about. A small smile still creeped up. Hibino fished out the bag of blood from under his coat again, holding it high so none would go unused.
Aizawa’s eyelid began to droop, his tapping pattern faltering.
“ERAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASER!”
He tightened his grip on Hibino’s hand.
God, I wish he was here so badly that I’m hallucinating his voice.
“SHŌŌŌŌŌŌ!”
Adrenaline rushed through Aizawa at the tone. The desperation. I wouldn't hallucinate that.
He gasped as his eye flew open, pulling himself up into a sitting position on Hibino’s arm. He barely coughed out, “Hizashi.”
Hibino had jumped. Then, turning his head but keeping his eyes on Aizawa's, he yelled back, “Hizashi?”
Aizawa nodded, trying to look around them.
“HIZASHI!” Hibino bellowed, much more confidently this time.
Aizawa leaned into Hibino as his body went back to shaking, unable to sustain the adrenaline rush.
“HIZASHIIIIIII!” Hibino screamed as loudly as he could.
Pounding footsteps, followed by a slide in the dirt and ash.
“O-oh, um, Present Mic, sir.”
“Why are you still here you FOOOOOOL!” Yamada shrieked, ignoring the medic to examine Aizawa himself.
“‘iza-,” Aizawa cut in as sharply as he could manage and forcing his eye open.
Yamada glared at him. “Ohhhhhh no—”
He cut himself off, tapping his earpiece. “I have Eraser. Critical. Waiting for transport with a medic. Speed that up, Nezu.”
Yamada tapped his earpiece again, disconnecting. Aizawa realized his own earpiece was gone. How long had it been gone?
Hibino grimaced. “You were panicking, so I took it out about 15 minutes ago."
Yamada looked at Aizawa, his body becoming tense.
“He’s edged in and out of shock since then,” Hibino stated. “I’ve given him 3 units, but I don't have any more to give him.”
Yamada took a deep breath through his nose. “Do you have another transfusion kit in your pack?”
Hibino tilted his head in question. “Yes?”
Yamada tore off his leather coat and shirt, settling back down in only his white undershirt. “We're the same blood type."
Hibino settled Aizawa against Yamada before scrambling for the bag.
Aizawa relaxed against Yamada as Hibino connected them to one another.
“The kids first,” Aizawa mumbled. “Di’n’ mean it.”
“With these injuries?!” Yamada’s voice was shrill. “YOU STILL should have been ONE OF the first ones to GET out!”
Aizawa winced at the stinging in his ears. His throat tightened. Too soon.
Aizawa's violent shakes gradually smoothed into small shivers. Hibino kept checking Yamada's vitals to ensure he didn't give too much blood and put himself into danger instead.
“Earpiece?” Aizawa asked. “Hear ‘bout my kids?”
Yamada groaned. Hibino snickered, holding Aizawa’s earpiece out to Yamada.
“Fine,” Yamada said, settling the earpiece back into Aizawa's ear. Yamada tapped his own earpiece and said, "Aizawa is able to hear you all again. He said he wants updates on his kids.”
Froppy’s voice was in his ear once again. “Ribbit, Aizawa-sensei called us his kids?”
“Hate you, Zashi,” Aizawa groaned tiredly.
“But you don't hate your kids,” Froppy said matter-of-factly. Then, after a delay, she added, "it's nice to hear your voice, sir."
Yamada smirked, tapping his earpiece to deactivate the mic. They listened to other updates in silence for a few minutes.
A helicopter’s blades could be heard distantly. Hibino jumped to his feet, rifling in his bag and pulling out a flare gun. He jogged about 10 feet before setting it off.
Aizawa forced out, “Nem. Wou’n’t leave t-too.”
Aizawa felt the droplets on his head. He'd made Yamada cry.
Fuck.
Yamada sniffled hard, pressing his fingers to the pulse point on Aizawa’s neck. “Much stronger.”
Aizawa relaxed more, leaning into Yamada heavily.
“Hey,” Yamada squawked. “That wasn't your cue to take a nap on me!”
Yamada began running his hands through Aizawa’s hair anyway. The beeps and chatter of the comms faded from Aizawa's awareness.
“Z’shi,” Aizawa said quietly. “Love 'ou.”
Yamada sighed heavily, tears still falling. “Love you too, you idiot.”
“No,” Aizawa said with unexpected intensity, sitting up a little straighter to look at Yamada despite his head swimming, “Wi’ you.”
Yamada looked down at him. “What?” he warbled.
Aizawa gazed at Yamada's face, covered in grit with tear tracks running through it. He lifted his hand to grasp Yamada’s neck and drew him closer. Aizawa kissed each cheek to halt the tears’ progress.
With great effort he whispered clearly. “Could…never…leave you.”
Yamada’s eyes lighted. He carefully pressed his lips to Aizawa’s.
“Love you," Aizawa murmured, their lips still nearly touching. “S’ much.”
Yamada nuzzled his nose against Aizawa’s. “I love you too, Sleepy Cat.”
“Well, based on that exchange, it appears we can upgrade Eraserhead's status to ‘stable.’” Nezu's chipper tone was back.
Thirteen cut in, “Or ‘taken.’”
"Ribbit..."
Yamada's responding laugh was so beautiful that Aizawa almost couldn't be mad.
Almost.