Chapter Text
Seven months since he had gone missing. A mere handful of hours of being home.
They were done with the doctor for now, Hizashi had promised. Which was good, given that it made him nervous (even if she had seemed nice and given him candy). They were done with the apartment tour too, and in some semblance of normality Hizashi had gone to the kitchen to cook something.
Shouta sat on the floor of the living room, playing with the cats. Well, Fuku was playing. Jiji was napping but that was fine.
There was a sound of a door opening and a loud voice as someone entered the apartment in a panic. "I got your text! What do you mean he's delicate? Where is..." Hitoshi entered the living room at that precise moment, locking eyes with Shouta. "...he. Hi, Dad," he said, sounding breathless.
Shouta couldn't say anything, effectively frozen in place. For better or worse he recognized Hitoshi. Why hadn't he thought about him, or noticed him missing from the apartment? Hadn’t remembered him until he had seen him? Why did it hurt to think about? Shouta was too little to be anyone's dad. God, why did it hurt?
Hizashi came from the kitchen, wiping his hands off on his pants. He couldn't tell whose eyes were wider at this point. It probably didn't help that Hizashi hadn't changed him into different clothes yet, still debating whether he should try to get him to do it himself. There was still so much he didn't know about the range of his capabilities now.
What was clear however was that Hitoshi's staring was upsetting Shouta. His bottom lip trembled and his breathing hitched dangerously.
"Shouta, sweetheart, wait in here for a second while I talk to Hitoshi," he said before dragging their son off to his bedroom where they hopefully wouldn't be overheard.
"I know it looks strange, but—"
The teen cut him off, pointing wildly in the direction of the living room. "There's a huge fucking difference between someone being delicate and someone being, being like that!" he hissed.
Hizashi frowned at him. "Language, Toshi," he warned. "It wasn't exactly something I could explain over the phone! You sort of have to see it for yourself. We can go over specifics about what we know later, but right now your father is delicate. His mental state is like a toddler's, but Recovery Girl doesn't think it'll be permanent." Save for the lapses, but that was a thought for later. "We've got to adjust in the meantime."
There was going to be an adjustment period for all of them. But they could start small. Hizashi sighed and patted Hitoshi's shoulder, knowing firsthand how hard it was to see Shouta like that after how long he was missing. But he was still Shouta, no matter what changed about him. "Now...go say hi. Let him know you're still here for him."
Hitoshi nodded. It had been a shock, sure, but of course he would still be there for him. It was a big change though. "Should I...I mean, would it even make sense to call him Dad while he's like this?" he asked, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. He knew they had left him in the living room on the brink of tears, and it was the only thing he had said to him. Hitoshi didn't know what to do or how he should treat him, but he did know he didn't want to upset him anymore than he already had.
"I'll be honest, I'm as lost as you are. There's going to be a lot of stuff we have to figure out together. But maybe..." Hizashi paused, pursing his lips. What was the right call here? "Maybe call him Shouta for now and see how he does."
Hizashi watched as Hitoshi left, and listened as their voices carried down the hallway.
"Er, Shouta? I'm sorry if I scared you a minute ago."
"...'s okay."
It wasn't the perfect reunion, but he supposed it could have been worse.
Seven months since he had gone missing. Two weeks of being home.
"No!"
"Shou, honey, calm down."
"No!" he repeated, stomping his feet. "No, no, no!!"
Shouta couldn't even remember why he was saying no, just that it felt good to say it. Even if he was getting so worked up.
"N-no! No! I, I want! Want!"
Hizashi remained calm as Shouta threw his tantrum. The behavior wasn't normal for the baby from what he had seen. This was probably a good thing though, he told himself—it meant he was starting to understand he didn't always have to be good and perfect to keep himself safe. That he could express negative emotions. Hizashi just wished he knew how to help. Nothing had particularly warranted this tantrum as far as he could tell. One moment he had been helping pick up his toys, and the next he was shouting.
Some of the parenting books he had picked up recommended that the child should be ignored and allowed to tire themselves out, while others advocated for communication. Hizashi leant towards the latter belief. "Shouta, can you please tell me what it is you're wanting? I can't help if you just keep shouting no," he explained patiently.
Shouta gave another sad stomp, albeit a more tired one. Clearly he had expended what little energy he had. Why didn't he understand? You have to use your words for Hizashi, a voice reminded him. Right.
"Want, uh," he tried, the words not coming. He bit his lip, noticing the slight tremble of the flesh beneath his teeth. "W-want..."
Hizashi patted the spot on the sofa next to him, giving him a soft sort of look. When he sat down next to him, he found himself being pulled gingerly to Hizashi's side. "Ssh, it's okay. Let's take a second to think about it. There's no rush." The words were punctuated with a kiss to his temple.
He rested his head on the blonde's shoulder. What did he want? Shouta tried to remember what had upset him. They had been cleaning up his toys, and talking, and Papa said...
That was it. Papa had told him he would have to start working again soon, and that Shouta would have a babysitter sometimes. Shouta did not want a babysitter, he wanted his papa. His papa promised no more babysitters. No, wait—his first papa had promised that. Sometimes he would get confused and things he was supposed to know got twisted together. Sometimes he wished things hadn't changed so much and become so confusing. And sometimes he wanted his first papa back more than anything. But that would make his new papa sad, and he didn't yet have the words to articulate his feelings like he wanted.
"Want to come with you," he said instead, voice small and distant.
That wouldn't be possible when Hizashi did his patrols. It would endanger him, not to mention the media would be all over him. It could theoretically work for when he did his radio show, but depending on the slot Shouta would probably need to be in bed. That was ignoring the fact that he wouldn't be able to give him all the attention he deserved and needed. Which left when he was teaching. Potentially he could come with him then. Maybe he could talk to Nedzu about that.
Realistically though, he might have to quit at least one of his three jobs, and he knew which one it would be. But he would do it for Shouta.
"I'll see about arranging some 'bringing baby to work' days real soon," Hizashi promised.
It was enough that Shouta no longer felt like shouting.
Eight months since his last papa had taken him and one month of being home with his new papa.
Shouta woke up crying, loud sobs wracking his body. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. His eyes were gone and it hurt. Overhaul had ripped them out and left gaping, empty sockets, the blood trailing hotly down his cheeks. He would never see again, could never be a hero again, could never be a grown-up again. It hurt so much.
Someone was rocking him, singing quietly as they cradled his head to their chest. There was the calming thrum of a familiar heartbeat in his ear. The melody was also familiar, and something told him it was important too. Shouta took a shaky breath and tried to focus on what they were singing.
"...I'll love you twice as much tomorrow, oh, love you more than I can say..."
He remembered someone used to hum this song to him during quiet nights cooking together. Or when they brushed out his hair after a stressful day. At drunken karaoke nights sang at borderline garrish tones but with feeling. And when they were curled up in bed together after one of his nightmares.
Hizashi.
Shouta brought a hand up to check his eyes. They were there, he just hadn't opened them. There were tears on his face too, not the blood he had imagined. He blinked them open to be sure he could still see, reaching to clutch at Hizashi's nightshirt with a white-knuckled grip.
"Papa, hurts," he whimpered.
Hizashi held him tighter, the contact a reassuring pressure. "Ssh, it's alright now. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he murmured. "Never again."
Eight months since Overhaul had taken him and one month of being home with his new papa.
Papa was at the radio station today doing important work stuff, and he couldn't go to the radio station with him. Which meant he got to spend the day with Eri and Nemuri. Usually that would make him happy, but last night had been rough and he hadn't been able to go back to sleep despite the lullabies Papa sang to him.
He had been playing with Eri since midmorning and it was already the later part of the afternoon and he had yet to sleep.
"Mama," he said, reaching for Nemuri. Shouta often still copied Eri, and as she had taken to calling Nemuri her mama, so had he. It felt right to him, remembering how she had always looked out for him before. "Mama, tired."
Nemuri crooned and lifted him up, not having much difficulty thanks to her hero training. When he dropped him off that morning Hizashi had told her about the nightmare the previous night and how Shouta had refused to go back to sleep. "I bet you are. Why don't we put you down for a nap, hm?"
She had been trying to get him to nap all day with little success. Shouta had dozed in the middle of playing only to jerk himself awake. Though the details of the nightmare weren't clear, it was obvious to her that he was scared and fighting sleep. So it wasn't surprising when her question was met with a firm if not somewhat petulant "no".
Nemuri carried him to her bed and sat down with him. She took out her phone and sent Hizashi a quick text message—asking if she could use her quirk to help the poor dear sleep. The reply came through a few seconds later.
"If Shouta is so sleepy then why doesn't he go to sleep?" she prompted. "Is someone being silly?"
Shouta flushed at the babytalk and shrugged. "Can't," he finally admitted.
She nodded seriously. "I see. Well, your papa said that if you were okay with it that I can help you go to sleep. Do you want me to help you go to sleep? I'll be right here to keep an eye on you."
Sleep sounded nice but the nightmare had hurt. It was like he was right back on the operating table with Overhaul looming over him. Shouta didn't think he could do that again. But Mama had been the one that had arrested Overhaul and sent him away. If anyone could keep him away then it would be her. He bit his lip. Maybe...
"Stay?"
"Of course."
Nemuri rolled up the sleeves of her sweater and held him to her chest, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. "Nothing will get you, Shouta," she promised. A lavender colored gas emitted from her skin, her quirk activating and sending him to sleep.
Nine months since he had been taken. Two months since he had been back.
Things were weird. The past few days, Shouta had almost felt grown-up. It mostly felt like he was pretending to be a grown-up, but Hizashi had said he was doing good regardless. Recovery Girl had said so too.
Nemuri was visiting with Eri today. Eri was in the living room while they all sat talking at the kitchen table. Talking about...something. Truth be told he hadn't been paying attention, instead focusing on ignoring the urge he felt to suck on something. It would be so easy to just go get one of his pacifiers, but then they would know he was only pretending to be a big boy. He wouldn't get to stay and talk with them if they knew because talking at the table was for grown-ups.
"Shouta-chan, come play!" Eri begged, tugging at his hand.
Playing actually sounded really fun. Eri wouldn't care if he was small, and she always came up with the best games. He swallowed nervously. "I, uh..."
Talking was hard too. Probably the hardest part about pretending to be a big boy, even with sticking to simple sentences.
Shouta glanced back to Nemuri and Hizashi. They were giving him that soft look they often did. The one that made his insides feel all gooey.
"You can go play, Shouta," Hizashi told him.
Somehow he could tell, they both could tell. Shouta didn't know who he was fooling. He got up from the table, letting Eri lead him back to the living room and grabbing a paci on the way. If they knew then he didn't have to hide the fact he wanted it anymore.
Today they were building a castle for her dolls using his blocks. Eri had come up with an idea for some sort of princess story, apparently having been inspired from Hitoshi's comments that Yaoyorozu was like a modern day princess. They had half of the castle built before Eri started talking to him.
"How come you were sitting at the table with them anyways?" Eri asked.
He moved a couple of the blocks to the other side of their castle. "'M big now," he told her, somewhat proudly.
Eri laughed, the noise pricking his fragile ego and bursting his bubble. "No, you're little, Shouta-chan!"
"Am not," he pouted, ears burning. Not always. He was working on being a grown-up again. Shouta had thought it was obvious. All the other grown-ups told him he was doing a good job of it, too.
"Yes you are. You're littler than me."
She stated it like it was a fact, and technically it was. Eri was a big kid, unlike him. He had to have help with practically everything and she didn't. She hadn't said it in a mean way either or to hurt him, but he found the block he was holding clatter from his hand as he hiccupped around his pacifier.
Why'd he have to be such a crybaby?
Ten months since he had been taken. Three months since he had been back.
He had been himself more lately, but today was not a big day.
Shouta woke up to an empty bed. Zashi didn't usually leave him alone in bed, but there was no sign of him anywhere. His breathing felt funny and he squeezed his kitty to his chest. "Papa?" he called.
There was no answer. Was he alone? Had he left him? No, now that Shouta was more awake he could hear sound coming from the TV in the living room. He stumbled out of bed, his legs having gotten caught in the sheets. The TV was indeed on, playing calming music of a game he recognized. The one with the animals. Hitoshi was on the couch, controllers in hand and eyes on the screen.
"Toshi? Toshi, where Papa?" he sniffled, rubbing his eyes.
Hitoshi looked over at him and set his controllers down. "Papa's at the radio station. It's Saturday, remember?"
Oh. It was Saturday. Well now he felt stupid for thinking Zashi had up and abandoned him. Shouta knew good and well Saturday meant someone else watched him. Usually Nemuri, sometimes Taishirou, but rarely Hitoshi. Probably because it was weird—because Shouta was weird. He was supposed to be his dad but he couldn't be if he was a baby. It wasn't fair on Hitoshi to make him watch him though, so even when he did watch him it was never for long periods of time or there was someone else present.
So where was his babysitter then? Shouta glanced around but didn't see anyone else. He twisted Tama in his hands nervously. "Mama pick me up?"
"Nah, just us today. That sound okay?"
Shouta blushed but nodded. "Uh huh." And it did, but... He liked spending time with Hitoshi, but Hitoshi shouldn't have to deal with all his baby problems. It was awkward and made him upset.
Hitoshi got up and stretched. Distantly he wondered if he had gotten any sleep, but didn't ask. No, Hitoshi was guiding him back towards his bedroom and saying something about getting him dressed.
"I do it," he said, voice edging into a whine. If Hitoshi tried to get him dressed then he would undoubtedly notice Shouta's wet diaper. And there was no chance he was dry either, not after sleeping all night. That was one problem that hadn't improved since he was brought back home.
If he actually could do it on his own then he wouldn't need a babysitter. They both knew this. Hitoshi figured that he was just being shy but wanted to avoid any tears. "Papa told me I needed to help you," he explained, carefully circumnavigating the underlying truth that he was in charge of Shouta at the moment. Papa's word was law for both of them technically, and he knew he would have an easier time getting him to listen if he reminded him of this.
With much reluctance he allowed Hitoshi to get him changed. When he pulled down his pants he couldn't stop from whimpering, a near silent "Sorry, Toshi," slipping from his lips. Shouta tried to focus on anything but the boy taking care of him, staring pointedly at Jiji, who was perched on the dresser.
"It's okay, Shouta. You don't have to be sorry," Hitoshi said. Really, he could have smacked himself for not guessing that this was the issue. And while it would have been awkward as hell a couple of months ago, he had had some time to adjust to it. If he hadn't thought he could handle it, then Hitoshi wouldn't have volunteered to watch him. He found himself mimicking Hizashi's words in an effort to soothe him. "You're doing a good job."
It had worked enough to stave off the impending meltdown. Once he was dressed they moved back to the living room. Despite his embarrassment Shouta clung to him, curling up next to him on the couch to watch him play his game. He had watched Hitoshi play this one before and liked it a lot. Not too much happened, nothing scary at least, and he had gotten all cat villagers for his island. He knew he was too little to play it, though a part of him really wanted to.
"Punchy, Toshi," he murmured, pointing to the black and white cat on the screen. It looked like Fuku.
"Yep, let's go see what he has to say. I think I have something to give him."
Much of the morning passed with them playing Animal Crossing, the only hiccup being when Hitoshi noticed Shouta had started to suck on his fingers again. That was quickly fixed by snagging a pacifier from the coffee table and reminding him that Papa said he had to use a paci, that his fingers were dirty. The resulting pout made him laugh as he pressed the bulb into his mouth.
It was easier now for him to accept this part of his dad. He was just happy to have him back, even on his small days.
Five months since he had come home and a full year after he had been taken. Aizawa was doing better, good even, all things considered. Most days he could pretend the whole thing had never happened, but there were reminders. Eri, for starters. Though she seemed to finally be understanding that he wasn't always Shouta-chan, even if she could easily draw him out. Then there were the little reminders sprinkled throughout their apartment. It just wasn't practical to box up all of his regression gear since he still used it, even on the days he insisted he didn't need to.
Which was another thing. It was frustrating, but he still found himself slipping at least twice a week. Aizawa could push it aside for a short amount of time but would inevitably crash hard into the small, safe headspace of being two years old. No one but him seemed to mind it anymore.
It was annoying and embarrassing. He no longer needed it, and yet...it could be nice, being taken care of. The admission left a sour taste in his mouth. Overhaul had told him that it was nice being taken care of, and it hurt to admit that he still believed that. His only solace there was that Hizashi actually took care of him and loved him so it was different. Of course it was different.
Still, a part of him felt guilty. Especially when he blinked back into awareness in the middle of an episode. Like now.
Hizashi was changing him—which was never a good time to check back in, in his opinion. Aizawa groaned and hid his face behind his hands. "I can do it, you don't have to," he said, voice muffled.
"Oh, I see someone is back in big boy land," he teased. How he was such a good sport about all of this, Aizawa would never know. The blond had taken the whole thing in stride, and his initial hesitance over whether or not he was doing the right thing by him had dissipated over the last few months. It was like he had the patience of a saint. "It's not a big deal, Shou. Besides, I'm all done," Hizashi smiled.
Aizawa removed his hands from his face and shot him an apologetic look. "How long this time?" he asked.
"Mm, about five hours."
Five hours wasn't too bad. Most of the time he would be small for at least an entire day, sometimes two. But it was hard for him to tell time while he was like that, so he had taken to asking. Tracking his own progress. Not that any was being made any longer—Aizawa suspected he had hit the 'as better as he was going to get' point that Recovery Girl explained to him.
It wasn't enough. Not for him to resume the life he had led before. There was no way he could do his patrols alone anymore, and the commission had been hesitant to let him keep his hero license at all after his rescue was publicized. Hizashi could go with him, had offered to, but despite hero duos being increasingly common these days it still felt as if he had to have a babysitter. And if he did happen to slip then they could both get injured or worse. Aizawa couldn't risk that. All of that was ignoring the fact that his control over his quirk no longer was where it had been.
So he said he was on a temporary hiatus from hero work, not finding the strength to outright announce he was retiring.
He could probably still handle teaching. But again, he couldn't very well control when he was smaller. Acting like a toddler in front of an entire class when he was supposed to be lecturing didn't sound productive nor enjoyable. They wouldn't respect him, and he wouldn't be able to protect them if something happened, so that was probably a no too.
Maybe if he could get a better handle on when he regressed, but no one knew how long that would take if it could even be done, given his circumstances.
So it was a temporary hiatus that would very likely turn into a permanent one.
"You've been awfully quiet. Still with me?" Hizashi asked.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm still with you," he whispered. A kiss was placed on his forehead as he was pulled into a sitting position. Whether he was feeling big or small, the other man never wavered to show him how much he cared. Why Hizashi was still with him was the true mystery. He deserved so much better. The thought made Aizawa's head hurt with a confused ache. They shouldn't have so many roles between them.
Silence filled the apartment once more, but not uncomfortably so. More in that way it did when you had been with someone for as long as they had. Nothing needed to be said as Hizashi got up and puttered around the kitchen to start on dinner, Aizawa helping when he was able to. He had never been a great cook, but even he could chop up vegetables and help with prep work.
His knife work was sloppy tonight however, and he set the knife upon the cutting board with a sigh. "I'm so sorry, Hizashi," he murmured.
"What for? I already told you the carrots don't have to be perfect or anyth—"
"That's not—that's not what I'm talking about."
Why couldn't he just let him apologize? Frustrated tears stung the back of his eyes, and Aizawa had to concentrate to will them away. That was another thing. His own emotions were so hectic now and harder to manage when he came out of headspace.
Aizawa took a breath. "I'm sorry. For being a burden. You shouldn't have to take care of me like you do."
Hizashi hummed and kept chopping scallions.
"I think I recall something about 'in sickness and in health' and all that jazz during our vows," he said with a vague hand gesture as if to wave off the comment. When his lighthearted response didn't land, Hizashi put down his own knife and took Aizawa's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Aizawa wouldn't look at him. "Hey, no. None of that, sweetheart. Can you look at me, please?"
After a moment he managed to, cognizant of the tears slowly leaking out of his eyes.
"I promise you that you are not a burden, Shouta Aizawa. The job comes with risks, we both know that. Would you think I was a burden if our roles were reversed?"
Aizawa didn't like the idea of Hizashi having to go through what he did. He shook his head. "N-no, but I..." Aizawa had always been a burden. Hizashi wouldn't have gotten caught like he had. His quirk was so strong. He would have saved himself and Eri without issue. "I..."
Hizashi brushed his thumb over the top of his hand in soothing circles, the other tangling in his dark hair and bringing his head to his shoulder. "No buts. I love you so much, Shouta. I think about how lucky I am to have you back every day. You aren't a burden," he promised.
Aizawa wasn't sure how long they stood there like that, Hizashi shushing him as he hunched over and silently cried into his chest. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. But even as he cried he felt safe, as if nothing could hurt him ever again. A holdover from his small self, he was sure. The peace of the moment lost at the sound of Hitoshi coming home, his voice calling from the entrance as he no doubt was hanging up his jacket and toeing off his shoes. Asking about dinner. Hizashi's response was immediate and reverberated in his chest, making Aizawa's cheek tingle. All of these things were normal, he reminded himself as he separated from Hizashi. He took up the knife again and resumed his chopping, pretending his eyes weren't still red and puffy and instead smiling when their son entered the kitchen.
Things were normal again.
He was normal again.
At least, that was what the older sounding voice in his head told him to believe. And so he would.