A/N: This is literally the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written.
The Tokyo Hospital Pro Hero Ward felt more like a jail than a hospital. For the sake of recovering heroes, strict security measures prevented vengeful villains and nosey reporters from gaining access. At least those are the official reasons, the heightened security was also largely for the purpose of keeping heroes in - pros had a certain reputation among doctors for being workaholics and trying to escape against medical advice, critical injuries be damned.
It was a small ward, operating largely as an outpatient emergency room with heroes cycling in and out every hour or so. Most requiring only a few stitches, an IV, or a cast before being sent back out to get banged up all over again. There were a few rooms designed for longer-term patients, and a small coffee stand that also served pastries and hot paninis.
It had been a long time since Hizashi had visited the ward. As a UA teacher, he usually went to the school infirmary for treatment from Recovery Girl. If the injury was serious enough though, and happened far enough away from campus even a UA teacher would be brought to the regular hospital.
That day not one, but two UA teachers were admitted to the Pro Hero Ward.
When Present Mic had arrived to the scene at USJ, he immediately saw his co-worker being carried out on the back of a student. His arms hung over the large student's shoulders, but in a way that didn't look right. His tousled black hair covered his face. His head would jerk up awkwardly and his whole body shook. It was a unique fight-or-flight response Present Mic had witnessed only once before, when by all means a hero should be knocked out but their body keeps on trying to fight.
Hizashi got pissed. Coming onto UA property and trying to harm his students. Not okay.
Following the arrest of the league of villains was a long day of talking to police, and then comforting and instructing students. Then even more talking among the teachers about what happened, how, and why. The dust had yet to settle from the first attack, but they had to be prepared for the second. And then he'd had to stop by Aizawa's apartment to pick him up a change of clothes.
Finally, finally, finally, Hizashi made it to the hospital, still in his hero costume and voice sore. He flashed his Pro Hero ID to security, and they pointed him to Aizawa and Thirteen's shared room (it was standard practice to room heroes together when they'd been injured in the same fight as they often woke up asking for the other, needing to verify their safety in the aftermath).
The room wasn't as dark as Hizashi expected. Between the glow of the various monitors and the light from the hallway, Hizashi could clearly make out Aizawa's body.
"Fuck, Shouta…" Hizashi uttered to himself as he pulled up a chair alongside the bed. For the first time that day, he took in the full extent of his friend's injuries.
There were bandages covering his entire face and running down his torso. Both his arms were in hard plaster casts across his body. He could see a multitude of wires and an IV line snaking down his body underneath the thin, blue fabric of the hospital gown.
Around the cast on his left arm, they'd managed to secure a hospital ID bracelet.
AIZAWA SHOUTA - ERASERHEAD
Dr. Shuzenji Chiyo
DOB: 11-30-XX 30M
Quirk: Erasure
Allergies: None BT: B
The bright yellow band contrasted greatly against the white bandages, even in the dim lighting. The golden color indicated a high-flight risk and Hizashi had to chuckle internally at how well Recovery Girl knew Aizawa. The second he woke up, he'd be out of bed and back to work.
But even Shouta would have to acknowledge that these injuries were too much. Hizashi skimmed over the medical chart and while he couldn't understand most of the medical jargon he was able to piece together the important bits.
Recovery Girl had already visited and healed him considerably, but he was still considerably unwell. It was truly a miracle he'd managed to survive. Even with the best doctors there would be lasting damage. Scar tissue on his face and elbow, likely leading to reduced mobility and chronic pain. A possibility for decreased vision or blindness.
To the ordinary public, Eraserhead was well built. He had lean, strong muscles and stood at just over six foot when he wasn't slouching. But compared to the average Pro Hero, he seemed almost like a child. In the bed designed for superhumans like All Might, Endeavor, and Fatgum, Aizawa barely took up half the space. He looked so much like the innocent civilians the Heroes work to save everyday, Hizashi felt the instinct to hold him.
Hizashi watched over his friend, resting peacefully for now, and got angry. He'd been tired from the earlier fight, but now he was fired up again and ready to take on the League of Villains. He wanted to leave right then and there to beat up all the villains he could find.
But a hero's job isn't just beating up bad guys and it certainly isn't about getting revenge. Tonight his duty was to accompany his colleagues in their recovery. He needed to be there for them when they woke up.
And a long night it was.
Every few hours Aizawa would become fitful. He'd moved like he was trying to get up and mumble angrily to himself. Sometimes vague words or curses dammit. warp gate. Other times commands run! go!
Occasionally, just a name Tsuyu!
At these times, Hizashi would talk calmly to him, reassuring him that all the students escorted to safety and all the villians apprehended. He wanted to reach out and hold Aizawa, provide physical comfort. He knew, however, unexpected physical contact in times like this could prompt negative reactions. A hero thinking that they're still in a fight could be as just as dangerous as a villain.
Once during the night a nurse came by to check in, scribbling a hurried note onto the chart and changing the IV. She did the same for Thirteen. On her way out, she smiled politely at Hizashi and he returned with a quiet but enthusiastic "Thanks, Listener!"
It wasn't until late morning the next day that Aizawa regained conscious and coherency for any significant amount of time.
"The students?"
"They're all alive and well. Thanks to you," Hizashi reassured him while crawling into the hospital bed. Aizawa elbowed him in the side, but he pushed back, "c'mon man, I've been in the chair all night, let me have the bed now."
Aizawa grumbled, but was too exhausted to argue. He was used to the louder man passing out in his bed after heavy nights of drinking. Usually Aizawa would resort to his sleeping bag, but in this case he allowed Hizashi to wrap his arms around his torso and snuggle against him.