A/N: I know some of you are worried about suicidal thoughts, but I want to go ahead and assure you, this story is not going there. This is Rin's lowest point in the entire story and it will not get any worse than this. Once we get through the next chapter or two, her mental health will improve (though as always, it will be a process). Someone just needed their Dad... :)

Aizawa-sensei says nothing when he does finally arrive.

He's dressed strangely in an expensive suit, hair slicked back, and eyes narrowed. Like the funeral. He looks like a wraith, pale-faced, clean-shaven, and dark-eyed. He even smells different, like the gray suits that come to take you away.

"Did somebody die?"

His eyes close and he leans forward, breathing deeply.

"No," he says softly. He crosses the room in seconds, pulling me up by my armpits, the shirt I still haven't changed from clinging to my chest. He deposits me on my feet. I stand, head rolling back, as he stares down.

Part of me wonders if this is it.

The moment he leaves.

I stare like I've been doing this entire time.

He stares back, and then, without another word, he's leaning forward, sweeping me into his arms against his chest.

My mind blanks.

My thoughts shutter to a stop.

His fingers grasp at the back of my head, pulling me closer still. He's warm. His clothes are stiff, but he's so warm. I don't know what to do.

"Why are you still wearing that shirt?" he asks, his voice low.

I don't know. I'd refused to change.

I didn't know why.

I don't think I could find the words to explain it even if I tried.

He seems to realize this.

He pulls away, dark eyes roving my face, expression haggard and concerned and tired. He looks more tired than I've ever seen him. More tired than even when he missed a full day's worth of sleep to come to get me. His eyes are red.

Has… Did he cry?

I don't like the way that thought makes my skin itch.

Sensei doesn't cry.

"Where are your things?"

I point to the familiar bag and he grabs it, slinging it on his shoulder. He opens the door and, arm still wrapped around me, he pushes us forward. I stare.

"Wh-What are you doing?" I ask. Confusion swells in my chest. It's the most I've felt in forever, beyond the dizzy exhaustion. He stops and turns towards me.

"Going home," he says, and then his eyes move across my body, taking in the newly changed bandages and lingering on my frame. "Unless you need to stay? You're pale. Are you still hurt?"

I shake my head but stop quickly at the dizziness.

He frowns.

I swallow and take a hesitant step forward.

"The… The others…?"

"Supervision was increased after that stunt," he says eyebrows furrowing. He takes a steadying breath as if to give himself patience. "Their parents will be by soon."

Parents.

Something in the numbness cracks.

My lip trembles, my shoulders shake.

He sighs and sets down my things. Then he reaches out again, fingers outstretching and pressing against my head. He pulls me until my forehead rests against his chest, right below his collar bone. It's warm and comforting, even if the smell and the fabric are all wrong.

"Rin, I'm here for you, not the class. I'm not here as your teacher, I'm here as your guardian… I… I'm sorry I took so long. So if you're ready, let's go home."

Home.

I nod, tears in my eye, and follow.

.

.

.

When we get home, without another word to me, Sensei makes sure the door is locked, and immediately peels off the suit jacket and shirt like they burn. He walks shirtless to his room grumbling. I stare as he goes.

Then, tiredly, I settle on my corner of the couch.

Miska, curled up in the cat tower, looks too comfortable to disturb, so I grab a blanket and pull it to my chest.

A shower rumbles to life and I relax a little to the familiar sound. I doze off in the spot, eyes losing focus as I watch Miska snore. The water shuts off and a few minutes later, Sensei returns. I turn to watch him, unsurprised to find him decked in his normal black pajamas.

He scowls at his phone on the counter, a towel in his hair, before stepping into the living room.

He drops the towel on the floor and without warning, scoops me up. One hand under my knees and another behind my back, I make a noise in surprise as he holds me. He turns and drops to the couch, pulling me into his lap.

I don't move. Instead, I stare, wide-eyed at the small, almost invisible pinpricks of dark hair growing from his chin and neck, as my guardian settles me firmly against his chest.

It's something Yamada-sensei has done a million times.

It's something Aizawa Shouta doesn't do.

But he says nothing, and, after a moment, I curl and relax, face pressing into the warm shoulder that finally smells right. He buries his face in my hair, his chin strangely smooth against my scalp, fingers squeezing and pulling against my arm.

He says nothing for a long moment.

My chest aches, far too full.

"S-Sensei?"

He makes no answer but tightens his grip when I try to look up at his face, stopping me.

"Sen-"

"I am upset," he says gruffly interrupting. His voice cracks. I don't know what to think.

I swallow. I don't know what to say.

I press my head more firmly against his chest and exhale. I tremble, eyes closing.

"Rin. I have always asked you to be honest with me, so I will do the same. I have spent forty-eight exhausting hours terrified that Bakugou Katsuki would be killed in captivity, worried over your classmates that chose so arrogantly to put themselves in danger, and forcing myself not to go out and physically hunt down your fool of a brother."

Dark eyes. Dagger flying towards my throat.

The words lodge in my throat. I choke on them.

The fingers in my hair curl against my head as if to prove I'm there.

"I know what you're doing, Rin. When the emotions become unbearable, you shut them down and distance yourself from them. It's an important skill to have, to be able to compartmentalize is essential, but you have to be able to turn it off. What you're doing now isn't healthy. Shutting people out, ignoring them, refusing to acknowledge any of this... Your brother is sick. Mentally well people don't act the way he has, and the fact that he is your brother does not change that fact. None of that is your fault. His obsession with you is not your fault. His refusal to get help, is again, not your fault."

The numbness cracks, my arms shake as they wrap around Sensei's neck.

He adjusts, pulling me so I can lean fully against his shoulder. He rubs my back in soothing circles, his fingers sliding through my hair, the smell of his detergent strong and safe in my nose.

I inhale, even as his own head turns, his too smooth chin pressing against my ear. Something wet drips against my cheek, and I can't understand. I can't comprehend why.

"I should have come to you sooner," he whispers, his voice cracking. He breathes deeply. "I should have left as soon as you got to the hospital. I have never been so tempted to shirk my responsibilities before as I have now, but they needed me. Bakugou needed me. If our work could offer even the smallest chance of his survival, logically it was my responsibility to do it, to take it. I told myself you were safe physically, and I had hoped with Hizashi here, that you would at least open up to him. I had no reason to suspect you wouldn't, you have always done so in the past."

I say nothing.

He takes another breath.

"But you haven't. Rin, you haven't spoken to anyone except Kirishima and nobody knows what to do. Hizashi and Nemuri are nearly sick with worry, Shinsou is terrified because you won't answer any of his messages, your classmates are calling the school, and every time I've attempted to speak to you, you have either ignored me or hung up. You have shut us all out and- and- damn it, Rin, I could strangle your entire family. This is not your fault. Stop shutting us out—stop shutting me out! I can't do anything unless you let me!"

The desperation in his voice, the wetness on my cheek, the strength of his embrace...

I shake as the pit in my chest shatters. Tears pour over in thick rivulets, my eyes aching, my throat closing. My chest clenches as invisible hands claw up my throat.

Tremors come again, my breath in short gasps.

I've never felt so broken—so hurt.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, face sinking into his shirt, fingers clawing at the soft fabric of his chest, clawing at him. Please don't leave. Please don't leave. Please don't leave. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm-"

He sighs, the tension in his shoulders breaking as his warm breath blows across my scalp.

"It's not your fault," he says, fingers rubbing small circles on my back. "I should have come immediately. I should have never let you out of my sight... You're safe."

I sob against him.

He holds me until they stop and then well after.

He holds me as the tremors die down, and my eyes seem to seal themselves closed.

We stay like that forever. My breath even, the quiet comfort of his presence more steady than anything I can remember. We stay like that until sleep hums in my ears, and a dreamless eternity settles against my body. Sensei's chest moves steadily beneath my face, the loud pace of his heart soothing.

Peace, for the first time in so long, sweeps through me.

It's then that Sensei picks me up. One arm hooks beneath my knees, the other wrapping around my back with my head still resting against his chest. He carries me to my room. He covers me with my sheets, pulling the flashlight from my pocket and turning it on under the covers.

He hesitates.

And then, he leans forward, his thumb sweeping away the tears beneath my face. A kiss brushes against my forehead, dry lips and a smooth chin.

"Goodnight Rin."

Eyes already closed; I don't hear him leave.

.

.

.

The next day is a quiet affair.

Sensei fixes me breakfast, some soft porridge that has no taste. I barely manage to eat it. I hadn't eaten much at the hospital either, maybe a meal a day. It leaves my stomach uncomfortable, my body feeling too heavy. When I finish, I return to my bed and sleep. It's fitful like it's been every night since the forest—since Kaito. I have nightmares I can't remember, flashing images, dark eyes, and a mangled face. I'm so exhausted, but every time I close my eyes, all I can see is him.

Daggers glinting in the dark.

Yui-san. Shin. Niko.

Sensei forces me out of for lunch and makes broth.

"Eat, Rin."

I can't.

I ignore his words and stare.

"Rin. Eat, please."

"No."

His face devolves into a grimace.

"Rin," he says, rising. He pushes the bowl into my hands, completely removing the spoon. "This isn't up for debate. You need to eat."

I lift the bowl to my mouth and swallow it all.

And when I finish, I drop the dish on the table with a clatter. Sensei sighs as I rise, unexcused and stumbling to the bathroom. I empty my stomach in heaves. He stands in the doorway, hands in his pockets, and lips pressed thin.

"Rin…"

I don't have any words left. I rinse my mouth and return to my room and try to sleep.

.

.

.

Sensei's worried. I know he is. I can see it in the way lingers, the way he rouses me from my half-daze to talk. Rin, it's a nightmare. You're safe, I'm here. Rin, please, I need you to talk to me.

Only I have nothing.

Nothing but tears and sobs and the same words that repeat themselves over and over in my mind.

I'm sorry.

I didn't know. I didn't know.

Why?

"You need a bath," he says flatly after the second day of this.

I cry. He sighs, leaving to run water. He returns then and physically pulls me upright.

"Stand up."

I do, dizzily. He steadies me, hand around my back and under my elbow. I curl forward automatically. The world spinning around me, my stomach twisting in painful knots, my body aches with black, desolate emotions. Emotions I don't want to feel.

I don't want to feel anything.

Why is this so hard?

He sighs.

"Rin, I need you to try."

My entire body shakes. I manage nothing.

"Rin," he says again, and this time he sounds pained. "Rin, please."

"Hurts," I whisper.

The fingers move to my head and through my hair, it's greasy and tangled. The other hand holds me upright—so solid and strong. I cry as he does.

"I need you to shower, can I trust you not to drown?"

I don't know.

Would it matter?

"Yes," I whisper.

"Alright," he says. He sounds so defeated, so tired. He pulls me to the bathroom and sits me against the toilet. He sets a shower cloth on the lip of the tub and hesitates. "You have fifteen minutes."

As soon as the door is shut, I begin the difficult task of undressing. It takes so long and I'm so tired. I just want to go back to my room.

I don't.

I stumble over the lip of the tub and lean against the tile. The water's too hot, the porcelain too cold, and the pressure too strong. It hurts, everything hurts, like thousands of little hands pressing too hard, slapping against my skin. I cry but don't turn it down. I don't want to.

It's all my fault. He said it was my fault.

It takes too long to wash my hair, so much energy to simply raise my arms, and the hot water makes me dizzy. Eventually, it's too hard.

I can't do this.

I slump to the floor, knees banging against the shower's basin.

"Rin?"

The door to the bathroom opens and when I don't reply, the curtain is pushed back. I don't look up, curled in the water, bent forward as I struggle to breathe. Sensei sighs, turns off the water, and grabs a towel. He drapes it over my back as he waits for my breathing to even, to control the panic.

"Did you fall?"

"No," I whimper. "Too tired."

His hand rubs across my back, over the towel.

"Still? Are you dizzy?"

"Yes."

He makes a distant sound and pulls me like a child from the tub, setting me against the rim. He wraps the towel tighter, tucking the corners under my arms. His calloused fingers rough as they push dripping wet hair back. He frowns, I shudder, and he sighs.

"You need to eat, I've no doubt your blood pressure and sugar are low."

He picks me up. One arm under my knees and the other behind my back. Effortlessly, he carries me from the bathroom, and I sag boneless against him, wet hair dampening his clothes.

"Not hungry," I whisper into his chest. I just want to sleep. I'm so tired.

"I need you to eat," he says setting me down on my bed. He goes to my closet, pulling out a simple nightdress. He returns and pulls it over my head for me, pushing my arms through the sleeves like I'm a doll. I can't find the energy to care. By the time he's finished I'm so exhausted I can do little more than slump against him, eyes closed.

I whine when he pulls me up.

"Tired," I whimper.

He makes a strangled noise.

"Rin, I understand that, but you are starving yourself," he growls. He sounds so frustrated. The towel moves to my head, his hands moving over my hair, wringing out the water. "I don't care if its soup or crackers, but you will eat something. If you cannot, we will return you to the hospital now and they will feed you through your veins. Do you understand?"

I flinch at his tone.

"Which will it be?" he asks.

"I'll- I'll try."

"This isn't a try situation, Rin. You will keep it down or we're going back," he says flatly. "You're losing too much weight."

I bury my face in his neck and cry.

Somehow, I manage to eat some crackers and fall asleep.

A/N: So I'd like to take a moment to acknowledge that Rin is a *horrible* narrator. She doesn't tell the whole story or even half the story, and it's always done with her own personal bias. *Sigh*. She just picks and chooses whatever stands out to her, and Nemuri and Hizashi spending nearly every waking hour by her side apparently wasn't something that made any click (though they made room for her classmates). I would also like to point out, from personal experience, how hard it is to work with a trauma victim when you are personally overwhelmed and anxious (which, let's be real, this whole situation is one giant ball of anxiety for everyone). People make mistakes, adults (even with the best intentions) can allow their emotions to overwhelm them.

Also, as an aside, I would like to point out that her reaction to Aizawa now is meant to contrast to her reaction at the end of the internship arc. :)

This chapter also ends this arc. Wow, that was super fast, lol! The next arc is the dormitories. I'll probably post the second chapter later this afternoon once I finish editing it. But whereas this one was about (making Rin suffer) building relationships with her peers, the next one will likely be exploring and deepening those relationships.