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At the beginning of his Problem Class’s high school career, Aizawa would never have thought this was where he would have ended up—in Recovery Girl’s office, petting his first Problem Child’s hair.
Lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, Midoriya shifted uncomfortably. The electrodes attached to his chest, wrists, and ankles probably weren’t all that comfortable. Sure, Aizawa had had his own EKGs a few times, but he usually had the ability to ignore what was going on by staring at his phone or listening to his husband’s awful jokes. His Problem Child, however, had none of that.
Instead, Midoriya had a lot of anxiety, Quirk-induced tachycardia, and nothing to distract him from it.
Quietly, Aizawa brushed his fingers through Midoriya’s dark curls. Green eyes flicked to his own. Midoriya managed a tight smile. Then, the EKG sped up, Midoriya’s face twisted, and green lightning crackled over his skin. Aizawa triggered Erasure. The lightning died down immediately. “Thank you,” Midoriya whispered, hands fisting in the sheets. He moved his foot, digging his ankle into the mattress underneath him. Gritting his teeth, Midoriya waited a few moments.
“Heart palpitations?” Aizawa asked. Eyes still squeezed shut, Midoriya nodded. “You’ll be alright, Problem Child. I promise.”
“I know. It’s just Quirk side effects. It’s okay.” Midoriya pushed his head into the pillow beneath him. “Honestly, it’s a really cool Quirk.”
Of course you would think it’s cool, Aizawa thought, brushing Midoriya’s hair out of his face again. “Why do you think that?”
“Well, it has to have some way of interacting with the electrical impulses going through the heart. Maybe it has something to do with the sinus node? I’m not sure, I would have to ask. Plus, I heard a few notes from the user when she was explaining things to Recovery Girl. Her right hand speeds up the heart rate, the left slows it down. If she were to use it in a clinical situation, she could probably help someone experiencing bradycardia or tachycardia. I just got unlucky and I’m not experiencing either of them, my heart rate is average, so I—”
Midoriya cut off, squeezing his eyes shut again. Reaching over, Aizawa grabbed his hand. Immediately, Midoriya squeezed his hand. He gasped. Jerking, he dug his heel into the mattress. Squeezing his eyes shut, he whined. The monitor’s beeping sped up, lightning crackled over his skin. Panting, he threw his head to the side. His hand clutched Aizawa’s tighter.
Triggering Erasure, Aizawa fought back the words in his mouth, reaching over to brush Izuku’s hair from his face again. Jerking, his student cried out. He was in pain. A lot of it. Mouth falling open, he gagged. Tears welled up in his eyes. He threw an elbow back, into the bed. A raspy breath left him.
Rolling to the side, he choked. Aizawa grabbed a bucket, shoved it under his face.
Izuku threw up, bile dripping from his lips. Gently, Aizawa brushed back his hair, kept it from his forehead and out of his eyes. It wouldn’t do much, Izuku’s hair was pretty short. It didn’t matter.
When the poor kid finally stopped puking, the heart monitor was still raging. He gasped, clutching at his chest. Using Erasure wasn’t working, Aizawa had to blink—
“Ai—zawa—” Izuku rasped, tears running down his face. Grabbing his shoulder, Aizawa pulled him back. Not quite to his chest, but close. Rasping, Izuku grabbed onto his arms. His fingers dug into Aizawa’s arms, gouging into his skin. Holding him closer, Aizawa focused on Erasure, kept it up as long as he could. His student gasped, cried out, but One for All didn’t activate. There wasn’t any lightning. There wasn’t even the thrum of the Quirk trying to heal Izuku, trying to work its way out but torturing him by accident.
“I know, I know.” Gently, he pressed his cheek to Izuku’s hair, still holding him. The kid’s heart rate was screaming in his ears. The rate was way too high.
“I want it to stop—make it stop—please—” Izuku whimpered. Crying out, he scrabbled at Aizawa’s arms still. Kicking, driving his heels into the mattress, he wheezed. Cried. Screamed, even.
A nurse tried to run in. As soon as she reached for him, Izuku cried out, jolted away. He screamed in pain again. “Get out!” He shouted. Looking at the woman, he roared, “GET OUT!”
Staggering back, the nurse—probably an intern, someone new, he’d apologize later—ran out of the room. Izuku let out a choked, wheezing cry. He coughed. It was a wet, strange noise. Strangled, choked.
Stomach seizing, Izuku choked. Blood spattered the mattress. “Izuku? Izuku, hold on.” He brushed the kid’s hair back, looked down at him. “Damnit, where’s that Quirk user? Why couldn’t she have given us a deactivation—”
“Not—her fault—” Izuku rasped between breaths. Coughing, he spat more blood on the ground. “I think—my heart’s—exploded—”
“It’s not. You’re going to be fine.” Yanking off the electrodes, Aizawa dragged Izuku to his chest. “We’re getting you to a hospital, then. You need help. Hold on, kid. Hizashi!”
His husband was already standing as Aizawa hurried into the hallway. “What?” His eyes landed on Izuku, who was still coughing. Still spitting blood.
"Get the car! Now!"
"On it!” Turning, Hizashi sprinted down the hallway. Aizawa cradled Izuku closer. Shaking arms wrapped around his neck.
“Hold on, kid.” How did this go downhill so fast? Did someone else use a Quirk on him? At the hospital? While waiting after the patrol? Something happened, this can’t possibly have been the original Quirk user? He wondered, glancing down at Izuku. “Hold on, everything’s going to be okay, Problem Child.”
“I—know.” He wheezed again. There was a pained sound as they started hurrying down the steps. Already, Hizashi had the car out front, idling. The back door was thrown open. Cradling him closer, Aizawa slipped into the backseat. “I—trust you.”
“Was there a second Quirk, Izuku? Do you remember if there was a second Quirk?” He asked, trying to keep Izuku talking. Trying to keep the kid awake, doing something more than just watching his own blood spill on his skin.
“There was—another person—” Izuku suddenly seized in his arms, shouting. Aizawa clutched him closer. Claw marks shredded through Izuku’s skin, down his chest. It’d been bare, something they did for the electrodes. Blood pooled in his mouth, dripped down his lips, formed a pool in his collarbone. Choking, Izuku jolted again, dropped his head against Aizawa’s shoulder. His hand found Aizawa’s jacket, tangled in the fabric and grabbed tighter. There was blood running down his neck, over his chest. Mouth falling open, teeth bloody, he wailed.
Hizashi pushed harder on the gas.
“Izuku, stay with me.” Aizawa said, shaking him and regretting it. He could feel Izuku’s pulse hammering. Twitching, Izuku stirred, barely. His eyes fluttered open, just for a second. Then, he was drifting off. There was blood on his face, his skin, running from his nose—“What the hell kind of Quirk is this?”
Seizing, Izuku spat out more blood, even unconscious.
“Hizashi—” He started.
“I know, I know, I’m driving!” Hizashi replied.
Twisting, Izuku threw up blood. It dripped into the footwell. Holding him closer, Aizawa glanced down at his face. The kid was pale. Too pale. He was—we’re going to lose him. He’s going to die.
“Stay with us, Izuku. Come on, stay with us. Problem Child?” The kid wasn’t moving, limp in his arms. No. No, come on—“Izuku!”
“We’re here!” Hizashi slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed on the asphalt. Looking up, Aizawa watched his husband yank the door open for him.
He was already running to the front desk before the doors even closed behind him. “Hey! We need help over here!”
There were nurses looking up, running to his side. Someone brought a gurney over. Even as a seasoned hero, looking around, there was too much talking, too much panic. Someone took Izuku from his arms, settled him on the gurney and shoved an oxygen mask on his face. There was blood marking his skin, hiding the freckles from view under red, too much red.
The last view he had of Izuku was his student being dragged away on the gurney, covered in blood—and he was just praying that wouldn’t be the last view of him he got.
Bakugou showed up not even an hour after Izuku got out of surgery.
Holding a bag of something, he looked up with narrowed eyes at Aizawa. “What do you want, Caterpillar? I’m just here with some stuff from the extras.” When he set down the bag, though, Aizawa caught a glimpse of a few books, some food that definitely hadn’t been made by Sato, and what looked like an Eraserhead teddy bear.
“How did you find an Eraserhead teddy bear?”
“Made it.” Tilting his head to the side, Bakugou commented, “Raccoon Eyes made the clothes. It was pretty simple to find a bear, honestly. Just whatever damn dollar store.”
That…definitely wasn’t a dollar store bear, but whatever.
They sat in silence until Izuku woke up. Bakugou was reading one of the novels, flipping casually through the pages like he didn’t have a care in the world. Every few pages (which was only a minute or so at a time), he would glance at Izuku.
Wheezing into the mask, Izuku tilted his head to the side. He moaned. His breathing hadn’t been good since he went into surgery. There were still bloodstains on his skin. When he cracked his eyes open, he looked at Aizawa first. Then, he turned to Bakugou. “Ka—”
“Quit talking, you damn nerd.” Grabbing out the bear, Bakugou shoved it into his arms. “Brought some food. You’re going to have to wait on it, though, until you’re off that stupid hospital Jell-O.”
Looking up, Aizawa snorted. Then, he turned back to his own book—one he had loaned from Bakugou.
What could he say—the kid had some good taste.