Notes:

Trigger Warnings:

-mention of torture/scarring

-slight violence

When Present Mic, Midnight, Mirko, Fatgum, and Hawks, all in Nedzu's private jet piloted by the mammal himself, arrived at the scene, they honestly didn't know what to expect. They knew it wasn't going to be pretty; from the picture Izuku painted on the phone, Aizawa was in really bad shape. The heroes were expecting that, at least. But finding Izuku bleeding out in the dirt, covered in burns ranging from first to third degrees in severity, sporting a broken ankle and what was left of a foot, with a gaping wound in his stomach?

That was not expected.

Nor was the unconscious body of a man lying only a few feet away from Izuku. Or the helicopter?? And was that a gun!?

It was safe to say that the heroes had plenty of work cut out for them. That was, after they had gotten Izuku and Aizawa safely into the jet to receive emergency medical care.

As Mirko lifted Izuku up and onto a stretcher with ease, Hizashi laid eyes on his husband for the first time in seven months since his disappearance.

Hizashi will never forget the day when Shouta Aizawa was declared dead to the world.

Detective Tsukauchi, along with two police officers, showed up to his house on an early Monday morning. Hizashi had been getting ready for work when the doorbell rang. With a scoff, he hurried to open it, expecting to see a frazzled Shouta coming back from his shift, having lost his keys in a fight for the umpteenth time that month. He was fully prepared to tease him about it mercilessly before hugging him gently and shooing the tired man off to bed.

He wasn't prepared for the grim faces of the detective and his subordinates, carrying the tattered and frayed remains of Shouta's capture scarf in their arms.

Hizashi looked at the scarf, and back at the detective's face. The man's brown eyes were dark, the bags under them were much more pronounced than usual. The soft grin Hizashi had been wearing was long gone. A black hole of emotion swirled in his chest. Everything was fuzzy. He vaguely remembers inviting them all in for something to drink.

After preparing the tea through muscle memory alone, they sat in the living room on ragged but comfortable couches.

Deep down, Hizashi knew what was coming. Hell, he had been on the other side of this conversation more times than he could count in his hero career. He knew that it was a possibility; it always kept him up at night, wondering if his husband was okay.

Distantly, he remembers the Detective handing him the capture scarf. A few parting words and a pass of some paperwork. A heavy hand on his shoulder, an offer to call if he ever needed anything. Then, they were gone.

And Hizashi was left staring at the only thing left of his husband.

Hizashi shook his head to rid himself of those terrible memories. He quickly ran forward to where Shouta was lying unconscious on the ground, taking a moment to appreciate the rise and fall of his chest. He looked… bad. Like he was dying. His skin was pale and his body was trembling slightly. He had what looked like a torn shirt wrapped around his shoulder and a swath of bandages around his stomach, both stained crimson. His left eye was also completely covered in bandages. His hair was long and greasy and ratty, now far past his shoulders. He was covered in blood and sweat and dirt and he wasn't moving and for a horrifying second Hizashi's mind flashed to the simple coffin lowering into the ground on a rainy July evening and that was all it took for the tears to start falling because Hizashi couldn't do that again, not again -

"Yamada. I understand that this must be jarring for you. But we need you here with us."

Nedzu's voice broke him out of his stupor. The mammal was standing by his side, peering upwards at Hizashi with knowing eyes. In his moment of distress, Hawks had scooped up Aizawa's limp body and rushed him back to the jet. Hizashi, so lost in his despair, didn't notice until now.

He took a deep, shaky breath before nodding at Nedzu, scrubbing the tears from his face furiously. As much as he longed to just hold his husband in his arms, wished that he could run his hands through his hair and hum to him and never let him out of his sight ever again, he knew he couldn't. Hizashi turned to the unconscious villain lying on the ground only a few yards away.

His eyes darkened, and his lips curled into a sneer. The look was unfamiliar on Hizashi, as he was normally the literal embodiment of sunshine.

But looking at the man who had tortured his husband, he felt no warmth or pity or mercy in his heart.

He cracked his knuckles and began his approach.

Yamada Hizashi has seen and experienced plenty in his days as a pro hero. He's faced death head on and won every time; he's been burned and stabbed and thrown into buildings. Getting hurt is literally a part of his job description.

Yet being tackled to the ground with a scalpel to his throat, held by his very own husband, has got to be the most painful thing Hizashi has ever experienced. It didn't physically hurt very much, no. The scalpel never even pierced his skin, and he was left with only a few bruises from the tumble.

But staring into the eye of the only man he had ever truly loved and being met with… nothing. Fear and anger and a feral glint, yeah, but no recognition of any kind.

That was true pain. He had felt it in the months when Shouta was gone, in the months he spent looking for any indication that his husband might still be alive. He never truly gave up hope.

For a brief moment while pinned on the floor, however, his resolve crumbled.

Hizashi wondered if he had lost his husband.

"... 'Zashi? "

A look of horrified realization made its way onto Shouta Aizawa's face. He threw the scalpel to the ground, scrambling backwards in a panic, only to be stopped by strong arms wrapping firmly around his shoulders, cradling his head gently.

Aizawa was many things. He was a teacher, a hero, a spouse. He was not a crier.

But encased in his husband's arms, on the floor of a hospital, truly safe for the first time in over seven months… that was what Aizawa found himself to be.

Hizashi just held the man in his arms as he cried. He held his shaking shoulders and carded his hand through unkempt hair and tried to ignore the stinging in his own eyes.

No further words were exchanged. How could they be? No mere words would ever be enough to describe the heartbreak and desperation and hopelessness of being alone for so long. The feeling of being abandoned. The fact that, every night without fail, Aizawa fell into a fitful sleep wishing to be comforted by familiar early-morning singing and cheesy grins and earnest eyes pointed in his direction. The fact that Hizashi had cried himself to sleep most nights missing a warm body next to his and sarcastic one-liners and a monotonous tone that always seemed to soften whenever the two were alone. There were no words to describe the days that felt endless and the gut-wrenching feeling of coming home to an empty house. The indescribable sensation of seeing something humorous and turning to relay the joke and remembering that he was gone. The guilt and shame and self-hatred that felt suffocating because I should have been there, should have been strong enough to save him. The crushing loneliness that always resurfaced whenever the kid needed help because if only he were here, he would know what to do.

There were no words that would ever be enough for the two of them at that very moment.

So, they just held each other. In an abandoned hallway of a hospital, on the floor. With shaking shoulders and running noses and emotions going rampant.

Was that enough to convey all of the hurt and pain and suffering?

No. It wasn't.

Luckily, they had time to figure it out.

It took over an hour for Aizawa and Hizashi to calm down enough to finally get up from the floor of the hallway and make their way back to Aizawa's abandoned hospital room. Hospital security tried to get them to move well before then, but having two pro hero licenses seemed to be effective in combating their efforts. That, along with a little help from a certain principle working behind the scenes, and the pair was mainly left alone.

Only when Aizawa was back in his bed and reconnected to a heart monitor by a displeased nurse did he grill Hizashi for information.

It took a while to explain that yes, Izuku was safe, no, you can't see him yet, he still needs to rest and hasn't woken up from surgery. Yes, Overhaul was taken care of. No, nothing was left of the facility except a pile of rubble. No, we didn't find anyone other than Overhaul. For the second time, you can't visit Izuku yet. Yes, he's going to be okay. No, you can't drink any coffee, the doctors would literally kill me if I let you. Yes, Nemuri is safe, she's coming to visit later today.

"'Zashi, I still don't see why I can't visit the kid. It's not that big of a deal, we could slide another bed in-"

Hizashi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. He wondered if this was how everyone else felt when he used his quirk. He suddenly felt sorry for his parents.

"Sho, the little listener was really banged up when we found him. He was in surgery for almost a day straight. Almost all of his internal organs were failing, he was severely burned, he had a broken ankle, a concussion, and his foot might need to be amputated. Not to mention the mental trauma-"

Aizawa shot upwards in his bed, his eye widening in shock and teeming with fury.

"He what?! You didn't tell me that before. What the hell happened while I was unconscious?"

Hizashi paused for a moment, surprised. Shouta was rarely this… well, he wasn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve. For him to be so livid was shocking.

"Well, we don't really know. All we do know is that the little listener is the reason why you're alive right now. If he hadn't stitched you up when he did and fought Overhaul until we made it-"

"He FOUGHT OVERHAUL ? Take me to his room before I threaten to kill another nurse."

Shouta was already out of his bed, his face twisted in rage. If looks could kill, Hizashi would be dead on the floor.

Decidedly not dead, Hizashi just balked at his husband. He stood for a moment in the hospital room, his mouth opening and closing rapidly like a fish out of water.

After a moment of shock, the man quickly pulled Aizawa back from approaching the door.

"Sho, you really shouldn't-" He tried to say, but was swiftly cut off.

"'Zashi, I am going to see my kid even if it means fighting everyone in this goddamn hospital. Nothing you say or do is going to stop me."

Shouta's tone was deathly serious, and his gaze was stone cold. It made Hizashi wonder with a heavy heart what despicable things the two had gone through together to warrant such protectiveness.

Sighing deeply, Hizashi knew that he was fighting a losing battle.

"Fine. I'll take you to his room. But you need to go in a wheelchair."

Aizawa opened his mouth to protest, but closed it promptly upon seeing the look on his husband's face. He scoffed, rolling his eyes before nodding once.

Hizashi relaxed slightly. It was only after Aizawa was situated in the wheelchair that Hizashi processed what he had said.

"So… when were you going to tell me that you adopted a kid?"

Upon arriving at Izuku's hospital room, both Aizawa and Hizashi were surprised to see that the young boy had a visitor.

Sitting in one of the uncomfortable side chairs in the corner of the room was none other than the principal of UA high school, Nedzu. The mammal didn't seem surprised in the slightest to see the pair sneaking into the room, and greeted them warmly.

"Ah, Shouta! I must say, I'm glad to see you again. I assume you're here to visit young Izuku, yes?"

Aizawa nodded in confirmation, too busy wheeling himself (much to Hizashi's chagrin) to Izuku's bedside. The sight that met him was not a pleasant one.

Izuku seemed so small in the hospital bed. He was connected to a heart monitor and various other machines Shouta didn't recognize, and had a plethora of patches littering his arms in various places. Almost every inch of his skin was covered in bandages. Aizawa's heart clenched at the sight of his kid looking so… vulnerable. So weak. The kid looked like death. His skin was paler than usual, and the bags under his eyes were dark enough to pass as bruises. Hell, they might have been bruises for all Shouta knew. A nasty, sickening feeling slithered into his stomach and made its home. This never would have happened if he had been strong enough. His kid never should have fought alone.

Shouta grit his teeth, his breathing quickening. He was angry. Angry at himself, at Overhaul, at the Doctor. Angry that Izuku had to be hurt so much for no reason.

Aizawa could feel himself slowly slipping into another world before the weight of a hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Turning his head slightly, he was met by the reassuring, yet slightly worried, gaze of his husband.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. To listen to the slow and rhythmic sound of Izuku's breathing.

After taking a moment to calm himself, he turned his chair back around to face Nedzu before speaking.

"Why are you here."

His voice was cold and calculating. Not threatening, necessarily, but the glint in his eyes promised the possibility of such, depending on the answer to his demand. He was never very close with Nedzu, and wanted to know what the rodent was doing in his kid's hospital room.

The principal chuckled quietly, holding up his paws in a placating gesture.

"Calm yourself, Shouta. I promise I mean no harm to young Izuku. I merely wanted to gather more information on the child so I could better understand the situation. You two seem very close. Tell me, did he ever speak to you about his biological family?"

The question threw Shouta off guard, but he relaxed slightly. Nedzu's face held only curiosity. No malice or harmful intent. He shook his head.

"Never. But some of his scars are too old to have been caused by the Doctor or Overhaul, even before I got there. Makes me wonder what his home life was like."At this, the mood in the room sobered dramatically. Hizashi didn't even try to hide his angered expression, still poised behind Aizawa in a protective stance.

Nedzu nodded thoughtfully, his face dark.

"How long, exactly, had young Izuku been in captivity before you arrived?"

Aizawa fought the surge of emotions swirling around his chest.

"Five months." Shouta clipped out, voice terse.

He could hear Hizashi gasp behind him. Nedzu's eyes widened the smallest fraction before his face contorted into a look that Shouta knew to fear.

Luckily, it wasn't directed at him.

"Understood. You see, I only ask because there was no missing persons report made for one Midoriya Izuku. A quirkless child living with his mother, Midoriya Inko. Luckily for us, Detective Tsukauchi will be visiting later today to collect your statement. I'm sure he wouldn't mind issuing a warrant to arrest Ms. Inko on grounds of child negligence and possible child abuse."

Nedzu flashed a manic grin, and suddenly Aizawa found himself warming up to the mammal. He returned the feral smile after a second, and Hizashi was sure he could feel the temperature of the room drop by several degrees.

The moment of chaos was interrupted by a knock on the door. All heads turned in the direction of the doorway as a lone man walked in, tired eyes widening in surprise at the audience facing him.

"Ah, speak of the devil. Detective Tsukauchi, thank you for coming on such short notice."

Detective Tsukauchi bowed politely, approaching the trio of assembled heroes.

"Of course, Nedzu. It's no problem at all." Tsukauchi says, his words genuine if a bit tired. He turned his gaze to Aizawa, a sad yet warm look making its way onto his face.

"Shouta, it's good to see you again. You really had everyone thinking you were dead. Next time, come back quicker, okay? It'd save me the paperwork."

The detective smiled at Aizawa softly, his eyes joking. After a second, the mirth dropped from his face.

"...Seriously, though, I'm glad you're okay. I really thought that… well, I'm just glad you're okay."

Shouta nodded at the man, his best approximation at resolving (in his opinion) a rather awkward conversation. Don't get Aizawa wrong, he had missed everyone too, but he was never good at conveying his emotions well.

Now that the touching moment was over, the Detective took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders slightly and preparing himself for the time to come.

"If you're ready now, Shouta, I'd like to take your statement. If you need more time, by all means, it's yours. I'm not going to push you-"

"I'm fine. Let's get this over with quickly. I want to be here when my kid wakes up."

Tsukauchi raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening. He looked from Izuku, lying in bed, to Shouta, still in his wheelchair. Then, at Hizashi, who simply shrugged with a cheesy smile. The detective just rubbed his temple, holding his head in his hands for a few seconds. He was already getting a headache and they hadn't even started yet.

"Uh… yeah, let's go. There's an empty room a few doors down that the staff have cleared for me to use. I'm going to ask that you two," At this, the man turned his gaze to both Nedzu and Hizashi before continuing, "Remain here for now."

Hizashi opened his mouth to protest, but promptly shut it. He nodded after a moment, eyes downcast. Nedzu shot the detective a fake smile, nodding as well. He already had equipped the room with multiple recording devices, so he would have the information soon enough. Not that the detective knew that, anyways.

The detective made his way out the door after bowing politely to the room's occupants, and Shouta was beginning to wheel after him when he was stopped by a familiar hand on his shoulder.

Turning, he was met with worried yellow-green eyes. Shouta hadn't noticed how bloodshot and tired they were until now.

"Sho, I… I can't…" Hizashi paused, his face contorting into a look of pain. Shouta could see tears collecting at the corners of his eyes.

He immediately reached out, and held the man's face gently in his hands, wiping the few tears that had begun to fall. His heart clenched painfully.

"'Zashi, I promise I'm coming back." Tears were now streaming down his husband's face. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind Hizashi's ear tenderly before continuing. "I'm coming back. I'll always come back."

Hizashi squeezed his eyes shut, nodding slowly. His hand was still on Aizawa's shoulder.

"How about this?" Aizawa started. "How about, you watch over the kid for me. If he wakes up when I'm not here, you'll be able to calm him down. I've already told him everything about you."

Hizashi opened his eyes to stare at the man he loves. The man now covered in scars and missing an eye and barely able to walk by himself. The man who had just been kidnapped and tortured and was the one comforting him. He wanted to laugh at the irony. Instead, he took a deep breath, and removed his hand from Shouta's shoulder.

Before he let him leave, however, he leaned in closer with a glint in his eyes.

"Don't you mean our kid, Sho?"

The whispered words caused a small flush to rise to Shouta's cheeks, his gaze flitting to Nedzu still in the room, occupied on some type of high-tech phone, and the man promptly rolled his eyes.

"I'll watch over him for you. You better come back."

Hizashi's tone was joking, but his words were serious. Shouta nodded firmly, his gaze never leaving his husband's.

Once he was sure that Hizashi was going to be okay, he wheeled himself over to where the detective was waiting patiently in the hallway. Shouta ignored the guilt pooling in his stomach and the ache in his arms. He ignored the sting of leaving 'Zashi and Izuku, the crushing fear that rose in his chest at the mere thought of abandoning them. He shook his head to clear it of intrusive thoughts and continued wheeling himself down the hall.

Eventually, the pair arrived in the room. It was a simple conference room, decorated with a table and a few squishy chairs. The windows on the wall let in what was left of the day's sunlight, soft rays streaming in and painting the room a gentle orange. It made Shouta wonder what month it even was. Hell, he didn't know what year it was. He tucked that into the back of his mind to ask 'Zashi about later.

After setting up his recorder and positioning himself opposite to Aizawa, the detective shot Shouta an inquiring look.

Shouta nodded firmly, and the questioning began.

Hizashi didn't really know what to think about the small child lying in a hospital bed in front of him. He felt grateful that Shouta hadn't been alone during his seven months of captivity. He felt angry that a child had to experience whatever horrors Izuku must have experienced. He mainly felt unprepared, and scared. He and Shouta had always talked about adopting, yeah, but this seemed very… sudden. Hizashi was worried. Worried that Izuku wouldn't like him, or wouldn't want him as a parent. He honestly didn't know how to proceed.

So when Izuku's eyes shot open with a start and the boy began ripping the IV line out of his arm, well, it was safe to say that Hizashi was taken by surprise.

Jumping up, Hizashi rushed to Izuku's side. The boy's eyes were wide and feral, and his entire body was shaking. Upon seeing Hizashi, Izuku froze for a second. His breath caught in his chest and all Hizashi could see was fear, pure fear, until it was suddenly replaced by a ruthless anger. Without warning, Izuku launched himself forward, throwing himself onto Hizashi. Tumbling to the floor, Izuku was quick to pull himself upwards and was going to sprint to the door but the second his foot touched the ground, he fell into a heap with a pained cry.

Hizashi was fast in overcoming his shock, and immediately ran to block Izuku's exit, positioning himself between Izuku and the door. Inwardly he swore because of course this happens right after Nedzu leaves the room and while Shouta and the detective were still talking, of course. Breathing heavily, he knelt down in front of the boy, extending his arms to help him up when Izuku growled, yes growled at him, lashing out with his arms at Hizashi and scrambling back as best as he could without the use of his feet.

Hizashi instantly pulled his arms back, showing Izuku the palms of his hands to appear as non-threatening as possible. His arms were scratched and dotted with blood but he could only focus on the terror in Izuku's eyes, how his small frame shook violently and his face was twisted in pain, how one of his eyes was emerald green and the other was black, the same black-

He had a kid to help right now. It wasn't the time to be overthinking. So, Hizashi did what he did best. He fixed an award winning smile on his face, and got to talking.

"Hey hey hey, little listener. I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise. You're in Musutafu General Hospital right now. My name is Yamada Hizashi. We talked on the phone, remember?"

Izuku's eyes focused slightly, as if he were starting to come out of a trance. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"...'Zashi?"

Izuku's voice was broken and hoarse and it made Hizashi want to cry but he continued to smile, nodding in confirmation.

"Yup, that's me! And you're Izuku, right?"

The boy nodded slowly, as if worried he was answering a trick question.

"Where… Where's 'Zawa?"

The panic that was starting to disappear from Izuku's face returned with a vengeance, and his breathing became more shallow and quicker than before. He looked like he was about to bolt.

Before he could, Hizashi was quick to jump in.

"Woah, calm down there little listener. Shouta is doin' just fine. He's gonna come back in a little bit, I promise. He's talking with a detective right now so they can hunt down the people who did this."

Izuku relaxed slightly, but not completely. The darkness in his eyes made Hizashi shiver.

"Overhaul," he croaked out. "What happened… What happened to him?"

Hizashi's face hardened. His grin slipped off his face and he met Izuku's gaze head-on.

"Tartarus. I made sure to kick his ass real good before we locked him up, though." The hero's voice was uncharacteristically tense, before softening again. "You're safe, kiddo."

Izuku searched Hizashi's face, looking for any sign that he was lying or tricking him. He didn't find any.

A moment of quiet passed in silence before Izuku spoke again.

"Am I… really out? This- this isn't some type of joke, right?"

Izuku's voice cracked pitifully. He looked so vulnerable, curled up on the floor, covered in bandages, his small body shaking like a leaf. Something inside Hizashi's chest broke.

"You're really out, little listener. I promise."

Izuku seemed to consider these words. He tried to feel happy. He was free, right? He just felt empty. Empty and tired. He was in pain and his stomach hurt whenever he moved and he couldn't walk because something was wrong with his feet and he just wanted it all to stop. Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes, and the shaking of his body worsened. He raised a hand hesitantly towards Hizashi.

"...Can… c-can I maybe…"

Hizashi just opened his arms wide, his eyes soft with understanding. Izuku leapt forward, openly sobbing now. Hizashi wrapped his arms around the trembling child tightly, rocking him back and forth. He ran his hand through greasy green locks gently and whispered little comforts into the air.

Izuku felt warm in Hizashi's arms. He was the only person he had hugged in the past few years, other than Aizawa. They were very different experiences. Aizawa smelled like cotton and sweat, and Izuku always felt protected in his arms. Hizashi smelled like flowers and the sea, and he hugged like how Izuku pictured a mother bear would hug. It was oddly comforting.

The two of them sat like that for a few minutes until Izuku's sobbing came to a stop. He shifted slightly in the hero's grip, too tired to be bashful.

"Thank you," Izuku whispered. His voice cracked and his eyes were pointed to the ground. Hizashi smiled in response.

"Anytime."

Hizashi was still worried about being a parent. He was still terrified that he would make the wrong move, that he would bungle something up, that he would get hurt on the job or something even worse. Hell, he wasn't even sure Izuku knew he was being adopted.

But looking at the kid in his arms - his kid - Hizashi knew. No wonder Shouta was so protective of him.

Because Hizashi would walk through hell and back for the child in his embrace, no hesitation whatsoever. A child who had seen far too much for a single lifetime. A child who was strong and smart and brave and so, so kind. A child who was torn apart and left to build himself back up.

A child who desperately needed support and love and care. A family.

And Hizashi was determined to give him just that.

Aizawa had no reason to expect Izuku's hospital room to be any different after only two hours of being gone, but it seems he had underestimated both his kid and his husband.

Opening the door slowly, Aizawa began wheeling himself into the room, stopping suddenly when he noticed the state it was in. For a second, his heart stopped. All he saw was an empty bed and an IV that had been ripped out and blood, god there was blood , and for a horrifying moment he thought that Izuku had been taken again, and there was no staying calm or rational because his kid , Izuku was-

On the floor. He was sitting on the floor. In Hizashi's arms. Both of whom hadn't noticed his presence yet.

Aizawa took a deep breath. Then another one. Once his heart had stopped trying to escape from his chest, he called out.

"... Kid? " His voice held desperation and fear and sorrow but it also held love, so much love and Izuku whipped his head upwards and his eyes widened and he detached himself from Hizashi's arms as fast as he could because he wanted to jump into his hero's arms and hold him.

Before Izuku could injure himself any further, Aizawa had already dragged himself out of his wheelchair and the pain in his stomach didn't matter because he was pulling Izuku into his arms. Hizashi made a sound of protest at Shouta ditching the wheelchair but, upon seeing him and Izuku reunite, lost the will to bring it up.

How could he, when his usually stoic husband had Izuku literally buried in a tight embrace, tears leaking freely out of the only eye they could, his shoulders shaking lightly. Izuku was sobbing at this point, clutching Shouta's hospital gown in a death grip because he was tired, so tired of being alone.

He was babbling incoherently, mumbling phrases like:

"'Zawa I was so scared, so scared,"

"He was going to take me back and you weren't getting up and you were barely breathing and there was so much blood, too much blood and your skin was really hot and I couldn't do anything I couldn't do anything I couldn't do anything,"

"I woke up and I thought I was back and my feet hurt and you weren't here and I thought you were gone, gone, I thought you were gone-"

Aizawa just rocked Izuku back and forth gently, extra careful not to disturb any of his wounds, whispering soft and reassuring words.

"Kid, I'm right here, I promise I'm right here, I'm not leaving you,"

"You did such a good job, I'm so, so proud of you,"

"We're okay, we're going to be okay."

Hizashi had since moved to sit in a nearby chair, not wanting to interrupt an obviously emotional moment. It took the better part of an hour until both Izuku and Aizawa had calmed down. Aizawa looked at the smeared blood on the floor, seeping through the bandages on Izuku's right foot. He removed his arms from Izuku's shoulders, still holding onto the boy's arms but now able to look at his face. He looked into Izuku's tired, sunken eyes, still bloodshot from crying; one emerald, one black.

He didn't need to ask what had happened. He knew what had happened.

He took a deep breath, eyes still fixed on Izuku. Waiting.

Izuku knew that he needed medical treatment. He knew that. It didn't make the situation any easier. He met Aizawa's gaze, could see the willingness in the man's face to protect him, to fight anything or anyone, could see that if he didn't want to be touched by a doctor then Aizawa would make sure that he wouldn't be.

Izuku ignored the fear in his chest and the pit in his stomach and the stinging ache of his body. He instead focused on the hero in front of him. His pale arms, covered in scars that matched the ones etched into Izuku's own skin. His limp, greasy hair, full of tangles and knots. He focused on the steady rise and fall of Aizawa's chest, so different from how he had been breathing the last time Izuku saw him.

And Izuku nodded.

Aizawa immediately beckoned Hizashi over, asking him to find a doctor to help Izuku. The two fought back similar feelings of fear and unease at the request.

But here, even when lying on the floor of a hospital with debilitating injuries and messed up quirks and far too many scars for any person to have, they knew that they were safe in each other's arms.