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2 - You're Safe Here

-Trigger Warnings!-
Mention Of Death, Panic Attack, Grief and Loss Depiction (slightly?)

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The sterile, white walls of the hospital did little to soothe the tension that hung in the air. Bright fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting harsh shadows that danced across the floor, mirroring the unease that enveloped everyone present. Nurses and doctors exchanged uneasy glances, their faces pale, the horrific details of what had happened to the L/N family weighing heavily on their minds. The crime scene had been cleaned up, but the bloodstains of trauma were etched deep into their thoughts. They had seen death before, but this... this was different. The brutality of the violence, the loss of life, and the stark reality that the only survivor was a small child stirred a deep sense of dread and sadness within them.

In the dimly lit waiting room, Aizawa sat quietly, a figure carved from stone, yet visibly crumbling under the weight of his thoughts. His elbows rested heavily on his knees as he stared blankly at the floor, the sterile tiles reflecting the turmoil brewing inside him. Normally calm and composed, his face was more tense than usual, a storm brewing behind his weary eyes, which were shadowed with concern and sleeplessness.

Y/N was just down the hall, lying unconscious in one of the hospital rooms, and the thought gnawed at him. He had stayed with her all the way here, her small, fragile body limp in his arms, the weight of her sorrow somehow heavier than anything he had ever experienced before. It felt like a violation, like a crime against innocence that should never have happened. He clenched his jaw, battling the frustration and helplessness that rose within him.

The door to the waiting room creaked open, and All Might stepped in, his usually vibrant demeanor dulled by the gravity of the situation. He approached Aizawa, concern etched across his heroic features. "How is she?" he asked softly, though he knew the answer would weigh heavily on both of them.

All Might's shoulders slumped slightly, the usually buoyant hero feeling the weight of the moment. "I came as soon as I could," he said, attempting to infuse some warmth into the somber atmosphere. 

Aizawa shook his head, the motion almost imperceptible. "We don't know yet. She's still unconscious," he replied, his voice low and strained. "The doctors are doing everything they can, but..." He let the sentence trail off, unable to articulate the fear that gripped him. What if she didn't wake up? What if the trauma she had endured was too much for her young heart to bear?

Aizawa met his gaze, his eyes filled with an unspoken question. "Will she be okay?" It was a plea wrapped in uncertainty, a desperate hope that he clung to despite the gnawing doubt.

"I believe she will," All Might replied, though his voice faltered slightly. "But healing takes time. For both her and us." He shifted uncomfortably, the burden of heroism pressing down on them both.

After a moment of silence, All Might added, "You did well to get her here, Aizawa. You were there for her when she needed someone the most." His words, though intended to be comforting, felt inadequate against the backdrop of such horror.

Aizawa glanced away, focusing on the sterile walls again, his mind replaying the chaos of that night. The screams, the blood, the shadows that had engulfed Y/N—those memories haunted him, refusing to let go. "I should have been able to do more," he murmured, his self-doubt creeping in like a cold draft. "She shouldn't have had to experience any of this."

Before All Might could respond, the door swung open again, and a doctor stepped in, the stark white of their coat contrasting sharply with the gloom of the room. "Eraserhead?" they called, their tone professional yet cautious.