mha sick fics (angst)

stress induced migraine (erasermic)

(request from like a year ago myb here it is !!!)
(Also not lore accurate I'm making all this shit up fr)

Aizawa sat on a rooftop mid patrol, observing the busy night streets below. He hadn't slept in around three days, had been out of the two prescriptions he was taking (both to stop chronic migraines) for two weeks because he hadn't had time to stop at CVS, he'd had an argument with Mic, was behind on grading and lesson planning for his class, and was running on coffee and Advil with no food.

For the past 24 hours, the sleep depravation had really been getting to him. He felt an full ache throbbing in his skull and a familiar nausea beginning to roll in. He cursed to himself and then pressed his earpiece.

"This is Eraserhead. I need to call out early."

A voice came back over the earpiece, "why? We're short on heroes tonight."

"I'm getting a migraine." He said, his voice dragging and his tone flat. He was really feeling it now.

"I'm sorry eraser, you're going to have to push through, we just keep getting more reports. 47th street has an incident that needs backup and your quirk would be of good use. Can you make it?"

Aizawa sighed, "Ill be there."

-----

After the incident was handled, he could barely even talk to the police he was feeling so unwell, he sort of just stood there and watched the arrest happen, making sure to keep his eyes open and on the target until they got the quirk suppressing handcuffs on him.

His stomach was churning and his head was pounding like the bass at a metal concert.

"Good work, Eraser." An officer said, coming over to pat him on the back.

Aizawa moved up his goggles to wipe his eyes and try and see better through the haze that had flooded his periferals vision. A bad migraine aura. Perfect.

"Damn, you look rough my guy. Are you okay?" He asked.

"Tried to call off, but they said they were short staffed tonight and that they needed me." Aizawa managed to say, "so here I am, migraine and all."

"Oh that sucks man. My wife gets migraines, she says standing in a bowl of warm water helps, something about opening blood vessels and drawing blood away from the head? Not sure, maybe you should try it." The officer suggested, lowering his voice a bit once he found out about the migraine, but it was futile because of the sirens and lights on the police cars all around them.

Aizawa really felt like he was about to pass out. Or throw up. Or both, actually.

"Do you need help getting home? I can get a cruiser to take you." The officer offered, seeing Aizawa look on blankly. It was very apparent he wasn't well.

"No, I'll be fine."

-------

He was not fine.

About ten minutes later he was vomiting into an alleyway trashcan. Someone was speaking into his earpiece, but he felt too sick to speak. He couldn't even understand what they were saying.

After heaving again, he finally pressed down on his earpiece, gasping for breath, "what!?" He shouted irritably.

"Eraser, where have you been? You've missed you last scene request and are late to your current one."

"Sorry, I've been busy throwing up in a public trashcan because you wouldn't let me go home." His voice came out frustrated, but much less steady than he would have liked. He didn't sound powerful or convincing at all, just so so unwell. He sounded on the verge of tears, probably because he was.