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He would do anything to keep him safe. He decided this the day of the USJ incident, that evening in the ER while he listened to the sharp beeping of Aizawa’s weary heart. Moon light lit the crisp white bandages covering nearly every inch of his husband’s form. Hands clasped, knuckles white he swore a vow to never let this happen again. He would never let Aizawa get this close to death again, no matter the cost.
And the price of that vow was a steep one. He knew it wouldn’t be long before his will to withhold that vow would be tested. And here it was. A villain attack occurred in the business district. A stock broker was targeted to transfer money into their account or something like that. Mic wasn’t sure what exactly was going on other than the building was rigged with explosives and hostages other than the broker were inside. Aizawa was working to help remove hostages from the east wing of the building and get them to safety. Mic had just finished getting civilians from the west wing and had come to help out Aizawa. Things were running as smoothly as they really could until the last hostage was out and the villains found out about it. In a last ditch effort to escape they blew the bombs on the ground floor and the building went down. All Hizashi could remember was the burning intensity in his chest as he tackled Aizawa to the ground and shielded him with his body.
When the ground stopped shaking and some of the dust finally cleared, Mic blinked open his bleary eyes as he awoke from passing out. His vision was foggy from behind his cracked glasses, there was no telling how those had stayed on. But through the haze he began to take in the state of his surroundings. Most of what was around him was large chunks of concrete rubble and metal struts. There was just enough space for him to crouch over Aizawa. Once his gloved fingers groped around his own body, he noticed just how bad things were. He thanked everything he didn’t believe in for the darkness surrounding them. If not for it, Aizawa would realize the severity of the situation very fast. But only now was he opening his eyes and beginning to wake up.
“W….what happened…?” He questioned gruffly, coughing a few times in the dusty air.
Hizashi almost quirked a little grin to ease the tension but dropped it when he knew there was no point in the dark. “Things went a little sideways....building collapsed. Other than that I’m not sure.”
Aizawa tensed under his husband’s crouching form and groped in the dark behind him, rough hands finding the rocky edges of rubble all around them. “Are you ok?” He asked with the calm intensity only Eraserhead could manage. Hizashi didn’t have the heart to let him onto what was really wrong but couldn’t keep it all in. “My arms are crushed. They held back enough of the rubble to keep us 3D but I’m sure they look like a wishbone put into a blender.” He huffed in an attempt at humor but Aizawa only clutched tightly at Mic’s shoulder. “Tell me your name. Birthday. My name and date.” He demanded through pursed lips. Mic entertained his questions until the pro was content enough that the man’s skull was still in one piece.
A slow, steady dripping broke the silence of Aizawa’s planning for escape. Drip...drip....drip. The voice hero sighed shakily as his eyes grew heavier by the second. Aizawa’s voice was somehow both deathly calm and panicked at the same time. “Zashi...you’re not telling me something.” His hand came to his cheek and there was the slightest tremer in the fingers that pressed against his skin.
Underneath him was his heart and Hizashi had been more than willing to be the Atlas that held back the world from crushing it. His arms were a mangled wreck, he was sure to have some kind of head injury but the most pressing matter was the thick steel rod protruding through his midsection. The blood that dripped wasn’t from the sight, the rod held most of that in. No, this blood was seeping from his lips and dripping down from his ragged gasps for air. It wouldn’t be long before he drowned in his own blood.
“I’m...real sorry...babe.” His lips trembled into a tiny smile. “I...made a...promise...ya see? And ‘ere I am...keepin it.” His words slurred as his vision started melting away.
“Mic! Zashi! Listen to me!” Two hands grasped his face and the shaking was worse. “Stay with me ok? Don’t close your eyes. I...I can’t lose you. Y-you’re my sunshine.” The sentence started off commanding but it tapered off into a soft almost pleading tone as rough thumbs stroked his cheekbones. Hizashi could only give a small nod and press his bloody lips to his lover’s palm. His voice had now left him and was only a heavy wheeze in his chest. Their shared ragged breaths were the only sound until quiet sobs echoed in the small space. Aizawa knew how grim the odds were at the moment and had felt the metal rod that pinned his lover like a bug on display. There might not be much time left so he held onto his sunshine with all the strength he could.
“I love you so much. God I don’t deserve you.” He said softly, other sweet words were whispered in the dark as time seemed to stand still though Hizashi’s last moments were trickling away. “I….love...you.” He whispered before the world seemed to float off into the distance.
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This was a turn of events. His eyes were met with the harsh white light of hospital halls seeping into his dark room, the light posts outside providing a softer light to the side. A gentle familiar beeping met his ears and he recognized the sickly clean smell in the air. A hospital. And not just any, the pro hero General hospital. One he had spent much painful time in, not of his own pain but his lover’s. His lover. His heart skipped and he sat up quickly to search the room for him. Was Aizawa hurt too? His sudden movement disturbed the dark blob on his left and he was suddenly aware of a tight grip on his hand. Dark eyes, more bloodshot and weary than usual, stared at him in the dim light. There was his lover. He relaxed a little and parted his lips to speak but he didn’t have the chance before worried lips met his.
All he could do was lean into it a bit and smile softly. It ended too quickly and the mood shifted as his cheek was pinched sharply. “You’re a reckless idiot!” Aizawa whispered harshly, voice cracking the slightest. “I almost lost you!” Mic couldn’t help the wide signature grin that spread across his face at the familiarity of the tone in his lover’s voice. His world was still whole and regardless of how mad it currently was at him, he couldn’t find it in his heart to care. He wrapped his bandage swaddled arms around Aizawa and drew him in close, never minding his bandage middle. “I love you too Shota Aizawa.” He whispered into his lover’s dark messy hair. The disgruntled man against him settled in, being careful of his injuries and held him too. He didn’t say a word as he pressed soft kisses to his chin and shoulder, but the feeling was in the stale hospital air. He loved him too, with the same reckless abandon his sunshine so easily showed.