"Aizawa." It had been the hand on his shoulder that clued him in that this was not the time. The meeting was…hard. All of the old wounds were forced open, the pain and tears forcing their way to the surface. When they exited, Aizawa would have been in tears if his eyes weren't dry, and Mic was unresponsive. Completely silent as they drove back to their house. It was unnerving, but Aizawa didn't have the energy to try and talk about it. When they pulled into the parking lot, Mic signed, face blank, "I'm going to bed." Aizawa replied just as blandly,
"Okay." He watched the man walk away, hands in his pockets, back slouched. Aizawa could barely move, but he forced his way out of his seat. They participated in the hospital raid, Aizawa still reeling. Mic was more than enraged. He was pissed. It was clear by the way his eyes were green constantly, the forced calm he had during class period, the fake energy that paled in comparison to his true nature. The slight disheveled nature of his hair. But Aizawa had no idea how to comfort him, so the week continued with Mic's rage boiling and Aizawa half-numb. Midnight said in the teacher's lounge the next Monday, looking concerned,
"Aizawa, is Mic okay?" He thought. Midnight could comfort Mic better than Aizawa could right now, but…
"…No." He stood up and walked away, not offering an explanation. He found Mic in the gym, far from anyone, still completely silent, punching the wall at full force. His knuckles were bloody, green eyes bloodshot. He hadn't been sleeping at all. "Mic." No response. "Yamada." Nothing, other than a harsher punch that actually made Mic sign a swear before returning to his punching. Aizawa grabbed his shoulder, forcing the neon blond to face him. "Hizashi." He blinked at Aizawa, face blank. "Please." It only took one word. That's all it had ever taken. Mic collapsed to the ground, tears pouring out in silence, as he slid against the wall. Aizawa draped himself over the sobbing man, silently giving him all that he could as comfort as Mic sobbed. "I'm sorry. D*** it, Mic, I'm so sorry."
"H-he's not e-even d-dead, S-sho…He didn't e-even g-get that…" Aizawa hugged his best friend tighter.
"I know." Aizawa picked Mic up, walking to their home. Aizawa set him on his own bed, rubbing Mic's back gently.
"You're going to sleep here, and I'll sleep beside you in my sleeping bag, okay?" Mic nodded silently, and Aizawa stood to fish some pajamas out and Mic's rope. Ever since they'd moved in together, Mic gagged himself so that if he had a nightmare, he wouldn't deafen Aizawa. It may have started before then, but that's when Aizawa had found out, almost 11 years ago now. He returned, handing the rope to Mic and covering him in a thin blanket. "If you get cold, wake me up, okay?" Mic heaved silently, tears flowing down relentlessly as he nodded. Aizawa rubbed his back gently. He sniffled, hugging Aizawa tightly for a brief moment, then letting go. He watched Mic curl into a ball, signing with shaking hands as tears continued to pour down,
"I'm sorry I couldn't be strong this time." Aizawa rubbed his back with a sad, small smile.
"Don't be stupid. Just let me be strong for you now." It didn't take long for Mic for fall asleep, the tight ball uncurling ever so slightly until he was in the fetal position, back facing him as his face was almost buried into the wall. Aizawa looked at him with worry, then went to grab a brush as he filled a bucket with water and shampoo. He quietly said, "You'll be upset if you don't get that gunk out of your hair, so I'm going to do it for you." Aizawa rinsed out the awful hair gel. It looked as if Mic hadn't bothered to do this since they had found out. He then gently brushed through it, humming quietly as sobs, muffled by the gag, filled the air. Aizawa said softly,
"It's okay, Zashi. Deep breaths." Aizawa felt his own tears start welling. How evil was this world? Mic had been through so much, and now they find that…that Oboro didn't even get a death? Even worse, they would have to return for more information, to protect Oboro's family. He was heartbroken, tired, and furious. But his friend was more important. He continued brushing Mic's hair, teardrops silently hitting the curtain of blond hair that practically glowed in the darkness. Mic started groaning, shifting slightly as Aizawa finished brushing and put it up so it wouldn't get as badly tangled in the morning. Aizawa climbed into bed, slipping into his sleeping bag and pressing against Mic. "It's okay, Zashi. You're safe. I'm safe. Everything will be here in the morning." He stared at the ceiling, humming a quiet song. It seemed to be calming Mic down, so he continued, even as he felt his pillow was soaked by tears and snot. He was glad Eri was spending the night with Mirio. He didn't think he could handle Eri's concern on top of his own. He heard scratching beside him, and he flipped Mic over, one arm out of his sleeping bag and grasping his hand. D*** that tick, the tick that caused him to scratch at the back of his neck until it bled. Mic had never been able to tell Aizawa where he'd gotten it from, and Aizawa supposed it didn't matter. Mic settled slightly, using his hands to sign instead. Simple words, really.
"Save. Protect. Comfort." The words Mic and Aizawa had used as a pledge. Aizawa smiled, wiping his tears away. He resolved not to let Mic visit Oboro without him ever. Even if they were asked to do so separately, he would refuse. Mic would never be trapped in that situation, where he couldn't show weakness to a friend called Oboro, or an enemy named Kurogiri. It wasn't much in the way of comfort, but it helped Aizawa through Mic's horror.