||Chapter Twenty One|| Even Worse

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|| Hello everyone! Hopefully you'll be able to tell I put a bit more effort into this chapter. Last few have been just slapped together and stuff, but this one is hopefully better. I'm living for the little bonding time the reader and Aizawa have near the end. Ugh, my heart.

Also, how the diddly darn heckles did we reach 99K views? Almost 100K? Like huh?! Thank you my babies ♡✧*.◟(ˊᗨˋ)◞.*✧⋆♡ 

Also, buckle up, people! This is gonna be kind of tragic. (。•́︿•̀。) And fluffy.||

|| 4 Days Later ||

Soft breathes of air filled your exhausted and aching lungs, that rose with every intake of air and lightly rustled the thick blanket on top of your body. The constant beeping of the heart rate monitor beeped loudly, and after a while, Aizawa was used to having the rhythmic beeping next to his ear. His arms were crossed, and his body sat uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair next to your hospital bed, and if he was being honest, his legs were starting to feel cold and numb.

The shiny, bleached tiles on the floor started to reflect the rising sun's rays and blind the man's tired eyes. His eyelids were heavy from fatigue, droopy and low and barely open. The more minutes that passed by, the harder it was for him to keep himself awake, like slowly sinking only to be jerked awake by some sort of cough from nearby or nurse walking by with annoyingly loud high heels that clacked on the tiles. He'd been awake for over twenty three hours, far beyond any nurse or doctor in this building.

How could he sleep? How could he sleep, knowing that you were only getting worse?

How could he just drift off to sleep, knowing that besides him lay a small kid who's body was basically deteriorating? Slowly shutting down like that of a computer, lights wiring down and buttons flickering out with every second that went by.

Minutes after Kirishima and Midoriya left was when he got news from some doctor explaining your current situation. Imagine having a stomach ache, but having your whole abdomen feeling as if it were churning like a washing machine, and gravity working ten times stronger on your head. Hammers pounding against your skull. That's how Aizawa felt.

"Wh- Hang on, what? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but the treatment just isn't working. The-"

"But you can fix it, right?"

"I'm afraid that we've pretty much done all we can."

"No, no, no, don't say that- You can fix it. You can- You can fix it. Please."

"I'm sorry, that's just the way it is."

It had all seemed like flowers and rainbows up until the point where your first antibiotic shot was supposed to be given to you. And despite the long, hard struggle of trying to get you to let them stick a needle in your arm, it was all for nothing. The shot was supposed to kill off the high fever you had gotten, and the infection starting to show inside your body, but it didn't work. There was some sort of drug was in your system that caused it to fail.

Of course, it was the shit-ton of drugs that the lab had pumped into you. They affected and mixed with the medicine and didn't allow it to work, so your sickness was just flourishing in the meantime. They just had to fuck up everything in your life, didn't they?

 The soft click of a door opening snapped Aizawa out of his sinking feeling of fatigue, but he jumped up and opened his eyes as far as they'd go, like he'd been awake for hours. An immediate bolt of worry stabbed him at the thought of you, and his head whipped to look at you laying peacefully besides him. The worry boiled back down to nothing when he realized you were still here, the heart monitor beeping reassuring him. 

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