Trigger Warnings:

-Brief flashbacks of torture

-Scars

(Approximately) Four Years Later

Shouta Aizawa loved rainy days. When the sky turned a dark, stormy gray, and everyone stayed inside because they didn't want to get soaked? Beautiful. So it was no surprise that, if you were to ask those close to him where Aizawa could be found on such a day, they would say his favorite place.

Where was that, exactly?

His grave.

It was only a few weeks after he and Izuku were discharged from the hospital that he first visited the site. Hizashi was actually the one to give him the idea, although unintentionally.

"There's an ice cream place by the old cemetery if you all want to go, we could-"

Aizawa's head whipped up, his gaze widening in realization.

"'Zashi?"

Hizashi stopped his ice cream tangent, looking at his spouse with furrowed brows.

"Uhh, yeah, Sho? We don't have to get ice cream, it was just a suggestion-"

"No no, not about the ice cream. The cemetery."

The look of confusion never left Hizashi's face.

"Do I have a grave there?"

The room fell silent. Izuku, who had taken up residence in the breakfast nook, stared between the two adults, searching. The pleasant look on Hizashi's face had since dropped into a darker, more somber expression. Aizawa seemed like his usual stoic self, but the tension in his shoulders and clenching of his fists told a different story.

"...Yeah. You do. Well, you did. The one in the cemetery was removed when we found you."

Hizashi's voice held a seriousness that told of darker times. He busied himself with rearranging something on the kitchen counter, obviously uneasy at where the conversation had turned.

"The one in the cemetery? Is there another one?"

His hands stopped for a moment before continuing their busywork. Neither Izuku nor Aizawa missed how they trembled.

"I… It was just a spot for me to go, really. Nem visited sometimes. I knew from the start that something didn't feel right about your 'death'. I never stopped looking for clues or more information, but I couldn't find much. Even with Nedzu's help, the only solid information we got was that you had been taken somewhere. So, it's not… I mean, I put a little something to remind me of you there, but not a tombstone or anything like that."

Something twisted in Aizawa's chest when he thought about leaving his husband alone for such a long time, but he pushed it down.

"Where is it?"

Hizashi's eyes widened in surprise before meeting Aizawa's gaze. His expression of guilt and sadness softened into one of understanding. Of course his husband would want to visit his own grave. It was such a Shouta thing to do, Hizashi really should have seen it coming.

"Remember where you proposed to me?"

Aizawa's blank expression cracked for a brief moment. The emotions in his chest suddenly became much harder to push down. He looked towards Izuku, who had been watching the pair with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. The boy felt like he was intruding on something personal, something he wasn't supposed to see.

"Can we go? Together?"

Izuku's eyes widened in surprise. Hizashi smiled, a warm and bright smile that somehow held a lifetime of sadness.

"Of course."

On such a day as today, where the rain poured and the sky grumbled, that was where Aizawa found himself. In a secluded spot a good distance from the city, tucked away in a small, grassy clearing. It was a truly beautiful place. The clearing held a little pond and a few abandoned benches. Trees shrouded the area from any stray eyes; not that there were any, though. It wasn't a very busy spot, nor was it one you could wander upon by accident. Because of its sheltered nature, not many knew the place even existed. Which, in Shouta's book, was an absolute win.

Sat at the base of a magnificent maple tree was his grave. The dirt ground was muddy from the rain and fallen leaves covered most of the area, but Shouta could still pick out the arrangement of stones Hizashi had carefully placed in the tree's shade.

It was simple and nondescript, but carried a heavy importance to Aizawa. It was his own grave, after all.

Soaking wet and exhausted from a finished patrol, Shouta sat on one of the mossy benches, closed his eyes, and breathed.

In.

Even after four years, there was rarely a night that passed where he didn't wake up in a pool of his own sweat, crying out silently at the twisted memories that haunted him.

Out.

Last week, Izuku had broken down when he saw someone that looked like the Doctor in public. It wasn't actually him; the man just had similar features, but still. The panic in his eyes wasn't what hurt the most. No, it was the look of angry determination, how he had already located all of the exits and potential weapons he could use to defend himself and those around him with. It was the way he had to be held back from pouncing on the man to ensure that no one else would ever have to suffer at his hands again. It was the hours afterwards, convincing him that he was safe and that no one was following them, trying to get him to let go of the broken pipe he had hurriedly grabbed to defend himself with, not even noticing how it sliced his hands opened. Cleaning his bloodied hands afterwards and holding the boy as he sobbed because he was so sure it was him, he was so sure. That was what hurt the most.

In.

Sometimes, on the nights where sleep avoided Shouta's capture, he would keep watch outside Izuku's door. Logically, he knew that they were safe. That didn't stop the twisted feeling in his chest that screamed at him to protect, to guard. When Izuku found him doing this, he would invite the man into his room. They would sit together, Izuku on his bed and Aizawa on the floor, like they used to. Izuku would braid Aizawa's hair, and talk about what he had been learning in school or the hero fights he had been watching that day. They would watch the sunrise together and begin their day like nothing had happened.

Out.

Whenever Shouta was gone for too long without a text or call, Hizashi would frantically check his location to make sure the tiny dot on his phone screen was still moving, still blinking. Before, Shouta had a bad habit of not responding to messages until hours after they were sent. Now, he responded in minutes.

In.

Shouta opened his eyes. The rain was still pouring, and the sun was just beginning to peek through the clouds. He stood up from his seat on the bench and made his way back home, not glancing back at the stones that marked his grave. He had a family to say good morning to, after all. He didn't have time for dawdling.

Since his addition to the family, Izuku had started up a handful of traditions. He greatly enjoyed holiday baking with Hizashi, as well as the annual Battle of Champions With Waterguns (don't ask), but his favorite tradition was helping Aizawa and Hizashi set up their classrooms at UA.

A few weeks before the school year began, Izuku and his two dads would arrive at UA in varying states of excitement, looking to make the necessary preparations for the upcoming students. Hizashi always loved putting up posters and decorating his classroom. Aizawa… well, Aizawa enjoyed napping while his husband accessorized. Izuku would help Hizashi with his room and pay a visit to Nedzu, who had been his tutor for the past few years. Apparently, Izuku's knowledge on how to build a bomb and survive mass murderers was impressive enough that Nedzu insisted on teaching the young boy, much to Aizawa and Hizashi's horror. Not that they didn't like Nedzu, no. Just that, after every lesson with the mammal, Izuku would come home and talk about what he had learned that day. It was fair to assume that no other pre-teen was learning how to hack into government databases, or the fundamental steps of world domination. They got used to it… eventually.

As Izuku made his way down one of the school's insufferably long hallways (Hizashi and Aizawa having promised to catch up as soon as they were out of a quick meeting), a figure carrying a stack of documents collided with Izuku's shoulder in a hurry. The papers flew everywhere, and Izuku would have been knocked to the ground were it not for his years of balance training with Aizawa. The figure, a tall and lanky man with blond hair sporting an ill fitting suit, was not so lucky. Izuku turned to make sure the man was okay, and was reaching down to help him up when he noticed the familiar two-pronged, antennae-like bangs hanging limply in front of his face.

Eyes wide, Izuku stumbled backwards, tripping over himself and landing on the floor painfully. The man looked upwards at Izuku, his blue eyes painfully apologetic and flitting around the sprawled papers with an air of panic.

"I'm so sorry, my boy, I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you alright?"

Izuku was frozen to the spot, unable to move.

"My boy, this is only going to hurt if you don't corporate."

"You should be more realistic. There's always the police force-"

The Doctor's hands were reaching towards him and Izuku wanted to move, he tried to move but he couldn't and they were getting closer and all he could smell was antiseptic because he was back there, he was back and his hands were on him now-

"IZUKU!"

Izuku snapped out of his panic when he heard Aizawa's voice yell his name from down the hall, running the short distance until he had Izuku in his arms. He gave the man a scathing look, his hair flying up around him and his good eye blazing crimson.

"What the hell did you do to my kid?" Aizawa's voice was barely a growl, the threat obvious in his tone.

The man jumped backwards in surprise, holding his hands up in a non-threatening position. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head.

"Aizawa! I-I didn't expect to see you here! I, well, I was in a hurry and I accidentally knocked into him and when I reached out to see if he was okay, he froze!"

Aizawa scowled, Erasure still activated. He held Izuku tighter in his arms, and looked about ready to tear the man apart before Izuku spoke up.

"I'm-'m fine, really. Just triggered a memory. I'm okay, 'Zawa."

His words were mumbled because of how Aizawa was holding him, but it seemed to do the trick, as Aizawa's hair fell back around his face and his eye returned its usual inky black.

Frantically approaching footsteps caused the two men to turn their heads, Izuku's still buried against Aizawa's chest, to reveal a panicked Hizashi barreling towards the trio.

"SHO, 'ZUKU! Is everything alright? Is anyone hurt? Should I call Recovery Girl? Do you-"

Hizashi's distressed ramblings were cut off by a stone-faced Aizawa, still glaring daggers at the man who ran into Izuku.

"We're fine. We are also leaving."

Seeing Izuku in Shouta's arms, Hizashi asked no further questions. Instead, he nodded, and helped the pair stand up in the sea of papers. The three quickly moved towards the nearest exit, but were interrupted by the man calling after them.

"Truly, I am so sorry, my boy!"

Both Izuku and Aizawa stiffened. Aizawa whipped around towards the man, ready to absolutely destroy him, when he was stopped by Izuku's hand on his arm.

Ignoring the fear creeping up his throat and the rapid pounding of his heart, Izuku looked at the man head on, now at the other end of the hallway, and grinned, eyes flashing dangerously.

"It's fine, All Might."

Taking a moment to savor the shocked look on the number one hero's face, Izuku turned around and walked away, flanked by his two dads, leaving All Might dumbfounded in a literal pile of paperwork.

Once they were out of the building, Izuku let the tears he had been holding back spill down his cheeks. Aizawa and Hizashi immediately pulled him into a hug so tight he could barely breathe, but it helped distract him from the pain in his chest and the pit in his stomach.

Taking a deep breath, Izuku looked back at the school. He would never fail to be amazed at the sheer size of the building. It stood tall and proud, shining in the afternoon sun. It helped calm him slightly.

"Are you okay, kid?" Aizawa asked, voice tinged with hesitation and his gaze heavy with understanding.

Hizashi just watched with sad eyes, a firm and comforting hand on Izuku's shoulder.

Izuku considered the question. He spared a look at his arms, covered in thin, white scars. He eyed the bit of metal peeking out beneath his pant leg from his sneaker. He felt the wind in his hair, so similar to a day only a few years ago on a rooftop too high up with a hero who didn't think things through.

He looked back to his parents. To Aizawa, covered in matching scars and wearing a determined, searching expression- an offer to go beat up All Might, if Izuku asked him to. He looked to Hizashi, who's soft, gentle gaze promised to protect and hold him (and to beat up All Might if that's what he wanted). He remembered how they both recommended him into the hero course, how they all celebrated with Katsudon and goofy movies when he received his acceptance letter. He thought of all of the tender hugs they shared, all of the times they had almost pissed themselves laughing together (or chuckling, in Shouta's case), all of the embarrassing photos taken of Aizawa in his bright yellow sleeping bag. He thought about Hizashi's early morning solo concerts for the cats because "They like music! It makes them happy, see! Bastard is totally smiling!"

He looked at his family, at his school.

And he smiled. It was crooked and it might not have reached his eyes, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

As the three walked back to the car, Izuku spared another glance at UA. The golden sky painted a beautiful silhouette, one that Izuku would never get tired of.

Leaving the school, he didn't feel sad.

He knew he had plenty more sunsets and sunrises over UA to witness, an abundance of memories just waiting to be made beyond those doors.

After all,

This was his Hero Academia.

THE END!!!!

yay!!