Work Text:
Sick Day
Shouta moaned in his sleep as images of his mother’s bloody remains flashed though his mind, their presence unwelcome. For an extremely long time, he’d done his best to block them out, but with Izuku revealing that he’d blamed himself for his own mother’s passing earlier in the week, his own horrific memories had returned to haunt him. His head whipped to the left, then the right, sweat dripping off him in waves, soaking the pillow below. He saw the knife as it was plunged deeply into her chest, the quirk using villain with knives that could sprout from his hands laughing manically, enjoying the way she screamed and writhed under his touch, blood dripping from countless wounds. “Get off her!!” Shouta bellowed, trying to draw the villain’s attention away from her, but it was too late; her limp body slumped lifelessly to the floor, blood pooling ominously around her.
Toshi sprinted into the bedroom hearing Aizawa’s panicked shout, half drunk coffee forgotten as he raced to his boyfriend’s side. Immediately he could see the tense lines of pain marring his partner’s face, sweaty and pale as he tossed and turned in agony. He reached out a gentle hand to still the man, and gasped in shock at the tears leaking slowly from his unopen eyes. He began to shake him awake, fearing that whatever dream he was caught in could be doing psychological harm to his man. “Wake up Shouta; you’re having a nightmare,” Toshi tried, this situation an entirely new experience for him. It was seldom, though very slightly more frequently these days that he saw Shouta so vulnerable, and Toshi always felt at a loss of what to do to help.
Lightly tapping his shoulder, he was startled when the erasure hero sprang upright in bed, looking younger than his thirty-one years. Eyes wide with fear, he panted heavily, clutching at his chest with the vividness of his nightmare. It had been a good eighteen years since he’d relived that torturous moment, where he could do nothing but watch as that villain stole his mother away from him.
Not caring who saw, he buried his fevered face into his hands and wept silently at the memory, his heart unable to cope with the raw anger and grief and blame that followed. Toshi climbed up onto the bed beside his hurting partner, drawing him down to rest against his chest as he carded his hands though Shouta’s soaking hair. “It’s okay Shouta, I’ve got you. Shhh.” Toshinori kept the man close as he released the torrent of pent up emotions, uncaring that his baggy suit was being creased beyond salvaging as he gently petted him. “Let it all out,” he guided, encouraging his boyfriend to grieve. “I love you, my precious one… I’m right here; you’re safe with me.”
“T-toshi,” he whispered, voice hoarse and broken, as he pleaded to the man before him. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t save her… I was so powerless…”
Toshinori’s eyes widened in sympathy as the weight of his words sunk in. This was what Aizawa had so resolutely blocked from his past, the memory so painful that he didn’t dare speak of it. He pressed a tender kiss to the man’s temple, feeling the searing skin beneath his lips. “You can tell me Shouta. I’m here for you, I always will be. Trust me…”
He thumbed away the stray tears as Shouta raised his head so their eyes could meet. He could see just how much agony the man was in as he recalled his past. “We were being robbed. It was a big guy with a knife quirk. He demanded we stand against a wall with our hands above our heads,” more tears slipped out, Aizawa’s eyes becoming unfocused, “but my mother, she fought back the minute he turned his back. She did everything she could, but he was too strong. And I was too scared to keep my eyes open long enough to erase his quirk. I failed to stop him…”
Shouta wailed into Toshi’s chest, allowing the older hero hold him as he relived the pain of that moment. “It wasn’t your fault, precious. You can’t hold yourself responsible for what that villain did… How old were you?”
“Nearly seven,” Shouta answered with a wet sniffle. “I watched him slice her up, Toshi,” a painful sob, “stabbed her right in the heart to finish her when he’d had enough…”
“I’m so sorry, Shouta,” Toshinori cooed, feeling saddened that his boyfriend had been witness to something so horrific, especially at that young age. He tightened his hold on Aizawa, peppering gentle kisses along his sweaty forehead, concerned once more about the heat radiating off it. He remained silent yet supportive until Shouta had cried himself out, finally calming down enough to release the death grip he had had around Toshi’s waist.
“Sorry, Toshi,” he apologised sheepishly as he extracted himself, the cloud in his mind clearing as he felt the memories of his past slowly slip away.
Toshi clasped a hand within his own, demanding Shouta’s attention. “I don’t want you to be sorry, Shouta; you haven’t done anything to warrant an apology. I love you with all my heart, and when you’re hurting like this, I want to be the one to care for you and hold you together.” He initiated a passionate, loving kiss, allowing his actions to carry across what he’d been unable to say in words, fingers running along his partner’s face, though his hair. But all he could think about was the heat radiating off the man, unable to ignore it any longer now that Aizawa seemed more emotionally stable. “How long have you been feeling unwell for?” He checked, frustrated that he hadn’t picked up on it any earlier.
“Felt off last night…” The way Shouta looked away confirmed that he’d been hiding his illness from him. He shook his head in disbelief, giving Aizawa an amused look.
“Stay home and rest today…”
“I can’t Toshi,” The unwell man butted in.
But Toshi wasn’t having it. “You need to rest. There’s no point going in today and risking spreading it to the students. I’m sure Nezu won’t mind you taking the day off to recuperate. Go back to bed, Shouta. I have a meeting this morning, so I’ll call out to Izuku and let him know he’ll have to walk today.”
“Fine,” Aizawa conceded, not up to arguing with the other hero.
Toshi glanced at the clock, realising he was going to be late. Shit. “I’ve gotta go.” He quickly pecked Shouta on the lips before hurrying to the door. “I’ll be home at lunch!”
Feeling drained, Aizawa flopped back onto the bed, allowing the pull of sleep to drag him back in…
Izuku, however, was up and dressed, ready to go, despite an uncomfortable weight sitting in the pit of his stomach. He padded tiredly into the bathroom to brush his teeth, well aware of the way his usually messy locks were slicked down, plastered to his perspiring forehead. He didn’t particularly feel like walking today, but Toshi had mentioned upon leaving that Aizawa sensei wouldn’t be in today, so really, he was left with no other option. He just hoped he made it to school in one piece, because he really wasn’t feeling very well…
The buzzing of Shouta’s bedside alarm woke him up only half an hour later, and already, he felt as though he had improved marginally. Deciding he would go against Toshi’s wishes and head to UA regardless, he dragged himself from the bed, despite his protesting head, and immediately started to get dressed.
Feeling semi-refreshed, though definitely not 100%, he grabbed his lunch from the fridge and made his way to the door, but stopped upon realising that Midoriya’s red trainers too remained at the entrance. Odd, he thought, recalling Toshi saying he would make the boy walk the short distance.
Lucky he had realised, he said to himself as he walked over towards the boy’s bedroom door. “Izuku!” He shouted, guessing that the boy had fallen back asleep. “Time to go, or we’ll be late.” He knocked once on the door, but got no response, however, he was met with a strange, choked sound emanating from behind the closed bathroom door.
“Coming…” Followed Izuku’s muffled response, the boy relieved that he was going to be driven in after all, before the second wave of vomit forcing itself from his mouth cut his thoughts short.
Aizawa, now realising what was happening, pushed the door open to find the child hunched over the toilet bowl, heaving bucketloads of god knew what out of his stomach. Taking in the kid’s appearance, he noted the neatly ironed uniform the boy adorned, but there was absolutely no way in hell he was going to allow the kid to go to school in that state.
“Oh no you don’t,” Shouta mumbled as he rushed over to the boy’s side, reaching out to upright him as he slumped eerily to the left. “Are you finished?” He asked softly, referring to the mounds of acrid vomit piled in the bowl.
“I think so,” Izuku replied weakly, struggling to hold himself up. Shouta slung a limp arm over his shoulders, very gradually guiding the boy over to the sink. He poured Izuku a glass of water to rinse his mouth out, taking note of the chalky tone of his skin, and the way his hair clung to his face. “Come on,” he instructed, taking charge, “let’s get you into something more comfortable.”
Izuku allowed himself to be dragged back to his room, physically unable to help at this point as much as he wanted to. “S-sorry,” he panted as Aizawa lowered him down onto the edge of the bed, moving away momentarily to find a soft pair of pyjamas for the boy to put on.
“S’alright, kid, you can’t help it,” he reassured as he stripped the boy of his coat and shirt, throwing the sodden clothing in a heap by the door. “Must be something going around…”
“S-so cold,” Midoriya whimpered, as a particularly violent shiver took hold.
Right, fever, Aizawa realised, thankful that he wasn’t as bad off as the boy. “You’ve got a fever, Izuku, and I know it seems cruel, but I can’t let you layer up too much or it’ll only make it worse.” Taking pity on the boy, Shouta lifted him into his arms, carrying him straight out to where he could keep an eye on him on the lounge. The heat coming off his body was unbelievable, and although his own was only a mid-range fever compared to Izuku’s high, he could see why Toshi had been so concerned about him.
He fetched a bucket and a cool, damp cloth, draping the latter across the boy’s reddened forehead in an attempt to lower his body temperature. The fever seemed alarmingly high, and Aizawa decided that if the boy got any worse than he would contact Recovery Girl without hesitation. Next, he fetched a glass of water and a couple of pills, urging the boy to take them both. “These should help the fever go down,” he explained as the boy accepted them. “Slow sips. You need to try and keep them down.”
Exhausted, the boy flopped back down with a groan, curling up on his side. “Are you in pain?”
“Yeah, everything aches,” the boy slurred, worrying Shouta further.
The erasure hero smoothed the hair back on the boy’s forehead, the affectionate gesture allowing him to assess the boy sneakily without causing a fuss. “If you start to feel any worse, I want you to tell me immediately, Izuku. I’m not going to take any chances here; I’d rather get you checked out than see you pass out, understand?”
“Yes, Aizawa sensei,” he replied obediently.
“Good. I’m going to get changed. If you need anything call out and I’ll be right back.” Shouta shrugged out of his usual attire and scarf, and opted for something more comfortable and looser-fitting, remaining conscious of his own lesser fever. He swept past the bedside table on the way back out, failing to notice the seven ‘missed call’ messages that flashed across his screen.
Upon his return, he’d found Midoriya had drifted into a restless sleep, and took care to not wake the boy as he planted himself at the opposite end of the lounge. Head pounding, he decided to rest his eyes for a while while the painkillers did their job, eyelids keeping the light from filtering through the only other thing he could do until the pain subsided. He drifted off into another fever dream without even realising it, but this one was mercifully, about a giant tabby cat called Pancakes.
Toshinori rushed out of the building the minute the meeting had ended, panicking over Izuku’s unexpected absence, and his inability to reach Shouta’s phone. While he understood that his partner could very well be sleeping, he had been unable to make contact with Izuku, and Aizawa hadn’t messaged to say he’d be staying home. So, fearing the worst, with his boy a possible target for the league of villains, he raced straight home, desperate to ensure the boy’s safety.
At five minutes past eleven the front door to his house was slammed open, startling Shouta out of his sleep and sending the boy into a massive coughing fit. “Shit,” he swore under his breath as he raced into the room, eyes landing on a very pale Aizawa clutching his head as he yanked young Izuku into an upright position.
A solid thumping on his back returned Izuku to the waking world, where he scrambled for breath as the tickle in his throat subsided. “That’s better, my boy,” Toshi stated in relief as he eased the sick boy back down. “I was worried when you didn’t show up at school today…”
“That’s my fault,” Shouta piped up. “By the time he’d finished vomiting and I got us both changed I fell asleep. Pills for the migraine knocked me right out,” he admitted.
“Vomiting?” He felt Izuku’s crimson forehead. “Fever too… You’re sicker than sick, my poor little Izuku…. And a migraine.” He moved over to where Shouta lay sprawled across the lounge, helping him to his feet. “Come on, my little snuggle bug.” He led Shouta by the hand while the other shielded his eyes, “The darkened bedroom will be the best place for you right now…” He tucked his boyfriend in bed, pulling the blinds shut and flicking on the fan. “Get some rest Shouta, and call if you need me. I’m going to sit with Izuku for a while.”
“Thanks, Toshi… Love you.” Toshinori pressed the most tender kiss imaginable to his aching head, before leaving him to get some more sleep.
He made himself a cup of tea, moving around the kitchen quietly so as not to disturb his boy. A soft snoring filtered through the air, cutting itself short as the boy gasped for breath, oxygen hitting his throat and sending him into another dizzying fit. Toshi mimicked his earlier actions, but this time, the gentle thumping wasn’t enough to help clear his lungs. Instead Izuku wheezed and gasped with the severity of his coughs, causing his chest to ache as his body fought to regain control. Eventually his weakened body became overwhelmed, and he once again started to vomit, heaving mouthfuls of gunky bile from down inside. Toshinori had only just managed to raise the bucket to his mouth in time as the thick liquid spewed out, Izuku seemingly unaware of what was even happening.
“That’s it my boy, get it all out,” Toshi coached, rubbing comforting circles on the boy’s sweat-soaked back. The child’s limp body slumped back against his chest, eyes glassy and unfocused, unaware of what was going on around him. “Izuku,” Toshi called, trying to get his attention unsuccessfully. He was burning up, even more so than before, internal temperature spiking to dangerous levels. “My boy, can you understand what I’m saying?” Toshi’s pitch rose as his worry increased, unable to get the teen to respond.
“Dad?” He eventually asked through his confusion, and that was all it took for Toshi to go into full parental mode. If Izuku believed the man that had abandoned him twelve years ago was here in the room with him, then there was most definitely something wrong.
“Is he alright?” Shouta yelled distantly from the bedroom, unable to ignore the sounds of distress that had filled the small building. But Toshi was too wrapped up in the situation to hear him, let alone answer. Bulking up to the #1 hero, All Might picked the boy up as if he weighed nothing, taking him straight to his own bathroom, past his partner still tucked up in bed. Holding the limp child against his muscular body in one arm, he reached down with his other to run a lukewarm bath for the extremely unwell boy. With the water running at the correct temperature, he stripped the boy down to his underwear, feeling his heart clench with worry.
Shouta too, feeling immensely concerned joined them to see what was happening, noting the lines of stress that had appeared on All Might’s usually smiling face. “I’ll call Chiyo,” he announced upon seeing the unresponsive child being lowered into the bath, unconsciously cringing at what he believed to be icy cold water that his mentor was wringing over him.
“Come on my boy, wake up,” Toshi begged, frustrated that Izuku had stopped answering him altogether. “I’m sorry… I should have had you seen to immediately…”
“Chiyo will be here any minute,” Shouta confirmed, re-entering the room. He jumped in the bath behind the kid as he ripped his own shirt off, keeping him upright to provide All Might with a more effective opportunity to cool him to the best of his ability. Aizawa, meanwhile, was trying to ignore just how good the barely warm water felt on his own feverish skin, uncaring that his favourite long pants were now drenched.
“Hey, Izuku, can you hear me?” The erasure hero asked, not satisfied that they were unable to get a verbal response. “Come on kid, we’re really worried,” he admitted freely, less self-conscious about sharing his feelings than he had once been, not all that long ago. Since Izuku came into their care, to be more specific.
“Sorry Dad,” he muttered quietly, struggling to open his eyes. “Brain’s all muddled.”
“It’s alright kid, we’ll have you better in no time,” Shouta assured him, as another wave of water was cast down upon them. He couldn’t believe just how young he sounded, the fever taking its toll on the boy’s physically and mentally exhausted body. It’s like he believed he was young again, back at home in both parents’ care.
Both Shouta and Toshi breathed a massive sigh of relief as Recovery Girl rushed into the room, having let herself in the unlocked front door.
“Oh my,” she inhaled deeply, shocked at the state he was in. “You say that this had only just hit him this morning, correct?”
“As far as we know, yes. He didn’t seem unwell at all last night. Shouta, on the other hand…”
“Are you not taking care of yourself either, young man?” She scolded with the wave of her finger. “You boys are all the same, stubborn and reckless, without a thought for your own health or safety.” She indicated for All Might to remove the boy from the water, and he did so, wrapping him in a soft towel and placing him on his own half of the bed. Chiyo, confirming that his fever was reaching dangerous proportions, leant down and planted a very loud kiss on the boy’s forehead. “There, that should do it. Leave him be for a little while longer; the more rest he gets the better, but he should be almost back to normal when he wakes up.” She gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder, before calling out in impatience to Shouta. “And you, Shouta, you go and lay down beside him.” She hounded the freshly changed man round to the other side, staring at him crossly until he complied with a dramatic huff. A healing kiss was delivered to him too. “Rest, the both of you. I don’t want to see either of you at UA until you’re feeling 150%.”
“Thanks for coming over so quickly, Chiyo.” Toshi bowed deeply in thanks, leading her from the room.
“Keep an eye on them Toshi. And you be careful too. If you start to feel unwell yourself make sure to give me a call. You’re vulnerable enough as it is with those wounds. The last thing you need is to fall sick yourself.”
“I promise if it happens, I’ll call you right away…”
He waved her off and trudged back to his room, finding Shouta sitting against the headboard, eyes firmly closed. “How are you feeling?” He wondered curiously, hoping that his partner was feeling more himself. “Good, just tired. She’s magical, that woman.”
“Migraine still there?”
“Nope.” Aizawa smiled slightly. “That’s long gone now.”
“You want to get some more sleep now? I could spoon you for a while,” he offered cheerfully.
“Can’t, there’s not enough room,” he said in devastation, looking fondly at the boy fast asleep on Toshi’s pillow.
“There’s plenty,” Toshi confirmed. “Here, let me in the middle.” He squeezed in between his two boys, careful not to disturb Izuku too much, wrapping his arms around Shouta’s waist and pulling him close. He breathed in the man’s scent, feeling at peace in the moment as he settled down to sleep himself…
“Aah!” Was the sharp cry that awoke the two men over an hour and a half later, both turning to find that the third body that had occupied the bed was now sprawled out across the floor. “Alright, my boy?” Toshi asked, extending a hand to help him up.
“I was…cuddled up to you,” he whispered in embarrassment, hiding behind his hands.
Toshi, not concerned at all by that, just chuckled heartily, finding Izuku’s moment of mortification to be quite endearing. “That’s quite alright, my boy, I’m quite partial to hugs and cuddles. It’s good for the soul.”
“You…don’t mind?” Izuku had to be sure.
“Not at all,” Toshi responded resolutely, forcing himself up. He reached out to feel the boy’s forehead, relieved to find his temperature had returned to normal. “Feeling better now, Izuku?” The teen nodded happily, prompting Toshi to ask “Why didn’t you let me or Shouta know that you were sick?”
“You sounded like you were in a hurry, and I didn’t want to bother you…”
Toshi cupped his cheek with the palm of a warm hand, smiling softly up at him. “You’re not a bother, young Izuku. Ever.”
Midoriya flashed his teeth at that, though he didn’t entirely believe it. However, his grin faded as scattered sections of memory came back to him. “Did I…call you ‘Dad’?”
“You did, my boy, why do you ask?”
Izuku’s face contorted in shame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to associate you with him…”
“Not to worry my boy. I can’t say I minded you referring to me as your Dad, and I’m sure Shouta didn’t either.”
“Nope, not at all,” the younger pro replied sleepily, secretly feeling honoured.
“Wha-?” Izuku was completely bewildered by Shouta and Toshi’s response, unable to comprehend the reasoning behind their confident answers. “I…I don’t understand. Why would you not care?”
“Not all fathers abandon their children like yours did, young Izuku. He made a terrible mistake in doing that… And that’s exactly why we don’t mind. We’re family, now, my boy, and you’re very precious to us. We want you to be able to look up to us and trust that we will care for and raise you like any good father would. We love you, dear boy.”
“Exactly what Toshi said,” Aizawa chimed in, feeling himself drifting into sleep’s abyss.
Izuku bestowed them with a watery grin, feeling blessed to have Toshi and Shouta in his life to care for him in his mother’s absence. He shuddered to think where he might’ve ended had they not offered to take him, and for that, he was truly thankful; he would forever be in their debt. “After my Dad left, I didn’t really know what I was missing. But now, I have the best two fathers I could ever have asked for,” he sniffled slightly, brushing away a stray tear. “It was certainly worth waiting twelve years to find you.” He threw his arms around Toshi, ducking his head low to try and compose himself, but with the way he was pouring his heart out, it was impossible. “I love you both so much,” he sobbed brokenly, accepting Shouta’s comforting pats.
“We love you too, kid,” the erasure hero reiterated. “But seriously, if you don’t stop crying, you’re gonna get me started.” He had been feeling emotional all day, with the dreams and everything since, and there was no way in hell he was going to break down again.
The mood lightened considerably after that, Izuku and Toshi chuckling at Shouta’s sudden declaration. The three of them departed the room in an orderly fashion, each in search of some much-needed food. Finding nothing suitable that was ready to eat, Shouta offered to cook, so Toshi sent Izuku off to his room with a smile, still very much concerned about his health. “Go get changed before you get cold, my boy. My heart can’t handle seeing you as unwell as you were this morning.”
“Okay, I’ll be back soon.” Izuku took two steps before turning back around. “I’m sorry for worrying you… I didn’t realise how sick I actually was.”
“It’s alright, Izuku. Just know that I’m always here for you.”
“I know. Thanks…Dad.”
Toshinori grinned wider that Izuku had ever seen, his chest filling with an undeniable surge of warmth, love and affection. It was one thing for Izuku to call him ‘Dad” mistakenly during a fevered daze, but something else entirely for him to say it directly to Toshi’s face and mean it. Nothing had ever felt better in his life. Nothing.
He swept over in a whirlwind and scooped the boy into his frail arms, smiling tenderly into his deep green hair. Fingertips danced across the base of Izuku’s neck and down his back, Toshi lost in the moment as he embraced the child that had become his own, never once until this point believing he would be a parent.
“You’re welcome, my son...”