Chapter Text
Ranpo was pushed from his focus on the movie by Poe moving around in his lap. He moved his hand up and down his back to try and settle him down, but when it just made him tense further he stopped. Then Poe started to shake. That can't be good, could it?
"Hey, you're shaking." Ranpo stated, it was an obvious observation. Anyone could see it.
He only got a small little hiccup in response. Poe was definitely big now, and clearly embarrassed. It didn't come as a surprise, he predicted this would be the outcome of the situation. But he didn't think he'd cry. He thought maybe he'd ramble a bunch of self deprecating comments– that were very untrue– but cry?
"Cmon now Poe, don't cry. It's fine!" He tried to reassure him, but it was easier to console a child than an adult.
He only got more hiccups and loud sobs in response. Ranpo felt his heart twist, he'd never heard Poe so distraught before. Yesterday was already bad enough, but this was worse. The way he choked and hiccuped was heartbreaking. Ranpo didn't want to imagine the look on the other's face right now. He's sure he'd probably start crying too.
Poe removed himself from Ranpo's shoulder, covering his face with his hands– not that it was necessary since his bangs did that anyway. It seemed he was trying to talk, but his breathing was too quick and labored to get anything legible out.
That just seemed to make him even more upset. In the distance Ranpo could vaguely hear a phone ringing. It was definitely not his, because it was in his pocket. So it must be Poe's. Whoever was calling, would have to wait.
Ranpo grasped at Poe's shoulders, a desperate attempt to ground the other man. It looked like it helped so he began to rub different shapes into his shoulders, just anything to get Poe to feel better. He began to take deep breaths, implying for Poe to follow along. A repeat of earlier today.
Poe sure had a lot of panic attacks, didn't he? He hoped it was just because he was here, because he didn't want to imagine Poe sitting alone panicking with his face scrunched up in that heartbreaking manner. It was nauseating. He continued to breathe in and out deeply, noticing Poe mimicking him, rather poorly but it was better than nothing.
"Just copy me Ed. It's okay, it's alright." Ranpo muttered, moving his hands from Poe's shoulders to his hair. He ran his hands through the mildly greasy locks, still taking calming deep breaths. He cooed softly when the other pushed into his hand.
Poe just hiccuped and sobbed into his hands, it was obvious he was exhausted emotionally. And regressing probably helped, but the shame that came after seemed even more tiring.
Ranpo felt helpless, what should he do? He's never seen someone panic like this before, let alone helped someone through it. Poe's whole body was shaking on top of him, he was practically vibrating. All Ranpo could do was just hush the other softly and tell him it would be okay. For some reason, it felt like a lie.
A few minutes passed, about ten at most, before Poe finally started to breathe normally again. But he was still crying softly into his hands. Ranpo moved his hands to lay on top of Poe's, rubbing his thumbs over the others knuckles.
"Are you okay? That was scary."
Poe shook his head.
"I'm sorry Ranpo." Poe's voice cracked, and it sounded so helpless, so small in a way he was just an hour ago. “I shouldn't be bothering you with whatever this is- I'm so sorry."
"It's okay Ed. It's fine I'm not- I'm not mad at you or anything. It's something out of your control, it's not your fault." The reassurances fell on deaf ears.
"I should be able to handle myself but I can't even do something as simple as that! I shouldn't need to do this. You shouldn't need or have to take care of me. You should've just left yesterday..” He takes in a deep breath, shuddering as he removes his hands from his face.
His eyes are red rimmed, and Ranpo feels guilt swell in his gut.
“You need to leave. Leave me alone. I can deal with this myself, I'm a grown man and I don't need you. I don't need you treating me like I'm a baby. I can- I should be able to handle myself.. I just- leave. Go home Ranpo.." Poe almost worked himself back into a frenzy during his rant, but managed to calm himself with a few deep breaths.
He moved from Ranpo's lap and stood up, fists shaking at his sides. His legs shook under the sudden weight, but he never fell. It was obvious he had so many pent up emotions, and Ranpo didn't understand why Poe wouldn't let him help.
But he wasn't about to force Poe to regress or share every detail with him. It would make it easier to help if he had the information, sure, but it wasn't necessarily needed. He wanted Poe to be happy, comfortable.
But he wasn't happy right now was he?
Ranpo didn't know what to say. His voice caught in his throat. Poe's never lashed out like this before, especially at him.
Poe kept throwing these surprises at him. Like right now. He was clueless, frozen on the couch. Poe only looked at him for a few more seconds before letting out a little sob and walking back upstairs.
Karl followed.
He sighed, pulling out his phone. He'd have to call Fukuzawa.
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Poe, admittedly, doesn't remember much of his childhood. The bits and pieces he does remember are.. less than happy. Of course there are the nice select few that aren't too upsetting, but still. It's scary, not being able to remember such a vulnerable and sensitive period in his life. What if something happened that was bad and he just.. doesn't remember? What if the little memories he has of that time, that all seem to be bad, over shadow the good parts? There's so many, "what if's" that make Poe's stomach churn uncomfortably.
He doesn't like thinking about when he was a child. It was a time where he wasn't happy. And now.. well he isn't necessarily happy now either. He isn't sad though, he's just.. numb in a way.
Ranpo makes life more vibrant. Writing novels for the detective is something he looks forward to. Something he craves to do. Not because he likes the attention he gets from Ranpo, though it is a contributing factor, but because he likes how excited the green eyed detective gets.
It makes him feel loved, cared for. Valued as a person. Which was something he didn't feel a lot in his childhood.
His parents, biological ones, were very busy people. They always had one thing or another going on, but when they had time for him it was amazing. And Poe cherishes the little memories he has of his parents.
When they died, he was only 8 years old. It was a very confusing, and overwhelming point in his life. He was lost, and had no clue what to do, or what was happening. One day his mother and father were kissing his forehead, telling him, "Be a good boy, Edgar." And then they were gone.
They never came back.
Only when he got put with his foster parents was he told that they had gotten in a car accident and died. He doesn't remember if there was a funeral or not.
When he got placed with his foster parents, he doesn't remember many details, but he does know he was miserable. His father could get mean. And he would yell, his punishments were always cruel. One of the ones he remembers vividly, way too vivid to be a part of his imagination, was when he was around 9.
He can't remember what he did to warrant such a punishment, but he remembers that his father had hit him. That was the first time his father, or really anyone, had laid a hand on him in any fashion. It was also the first time Poe had ever been terrified of an adult.
His father's punishments varied, but the older Poe got, the more aggressive and physical his father became.
His mother never said anything.
Whenever he did something wrong, or something she thought he needed punishment for, she never did it herself. Maybe she didn't want to be seen as a bad mother and wanted to be the, "good parent"? Poe wasn't sure.
When he was 15, his father found a poem he wrote, it wasn't anything special. It was just a love poem, that may or may not have been about a boy in his gym class. He doesn't know how his dad found out it was about another man, maybe it was the way he described the person. But he found out, and he was not happy.
Poe almost got kicked out. He would've been if it hadn't been for his mother convincing his father not to. His dad stopped interacting with him all together, and his mother never stood up for him like that again.
Poe liked to think his mom loved him, that she cared but had skewed ways of expressing it.
When he turned 18, he packed everything he owned and ran. He kept in very limited contact with his mother, which is translated to, "She calls, I never answer". There really wasn't any point. All she ever talked about was his father, and he doesn't want to talk about his dad.
When he first left, he answered every single call. But as the years passed, and the worse his father and mothers relationship got, and the more she complained, he stopped answering. He didn't want to hear about their relationship problems, or how it's not the same since he's left, or how she misses him. He doesn't want to hear any of it.
She used to call every single day, but now it's reduced to twice a month. Four if she's in a mood. He doesn't answer any of them.
The last time he talked to his mother whas when he was 23, and it ended with his mother crying and him fuming.
He hasn't answered ever since then.
So yeah, Poe's childhood wasn't.. fun. It wasn't something he enjoyed. But it made him into the man he was now, so that had to count for something, right?
Ah, but the man he was now was.. shameful. He has- he regresses because he can't handle being an adult. He can't handle the life he has, and how sad is that? That he, a 28 year old man, can't even handle being an adult? How embarrassing. He wondered what his father would think.
What would his biological dad say? Would he be ashamed, regretful, disgusted? What about his biological mom? He wished they were still here. He wished he remembered more about them. But alas, fate seems to hate him.
So for now he was stuck, with his phone ringing and hiding in his closet of all places. How childish. He was hiding in a closet because he felt bad for blaming Ranpo.
It was unnecessarily cruel to blame the detective for his own issues. It wasn't his fault Poe couldn't take care of himself. He also feels bad for kicking him out, without a ride home too. How dumb. What type of friend was he?
He couldn't cry anymore. His eyes hurt too much, and he was a little dehydrated. He could hear Karl scratching at the closet door, but Poe was too upset to move. His limbs felt like lead. He didn't have the energy to panic, and he didn't have the energy to move.
He just wanted to disappear or something. Evaporate into the air and never come back. Maybe he wanted to die a little bit.
What a morbid thought that was. The last time he had thought something like that, he was 19 and living on his friend's couch. He never out right tried to end his life, but he's thought about it. He's thought about it, wrote people letters, poems, stories, etcetera. The letters he wrote were only addressed to his biological parents. And his foster mom. He can't remember what the letters said, as he's long since burned or thrown them away, but he knows they were full of, "I'm sorry"'s and " what did I do wrong?"'s.
He doesn't want to go back to that time. He was miserable, more so than he was right now. But at least back then he wasn't trying to cope by acting like a child of all things.
He doesn't know how long he sat in the closet, he could vaguely recognize pain in his limbs but he didn't care. He'd rather stay there forever. Just let himself rot away in his stupid big closet.
He could hear a car pull up into his driveway, and he could hear Karl's little claws against the ground scamper away from the closet door. Even Karl got tired of his childish behavior. Maybe he'd be better off without Poe, he should have an owner competent enough to take care of him. And clearly, Poe wasn't qualified.
He wondered why Ranpo stuck around.
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"I see. I don't think he should be left like that, Ranpo."
"I don't want him to be upset with me staying."
Fukuzawa and Ranpo stood on Poe's porch. It seemed Poe's car made it here safely, which was a relief. He wasn't sure what he'd do if it got lost, though he's sure Poe could afford another one. Or ten.
"It sounds like he's trying to isolate himself as a form of punishment." Fukuzawa said, glancing at the front door.
"Punishment? Like he's putting himself in time out for being bad?.." It wasn't far-fetched. Definitely something Poe would do, and probably has done. "He hasn't done anything bad, really all he's done is well, cry."
"That may seem small and minimal to you, but to Poe, it's everything." The older man was now looking at Ranpo, a calm look on his face. Always so calm, Ranpo wondered how he did it.
"I guess that makes sense. But I –" He doesn't know. For once in Ranpo's life, he is completely and utterly clueless as to how he's supposed to tackle this situation. He doesn't know how to feel. He's always been able to deduce and handle any problem. Right now though, he was stumped. He didn't know what to do. It makes his stomach turn.
He's supposed to be the smart one. He's supposed to know everything and anything. He's supposed to know how to solve any problem he faces. And yet, here he is, standing on Poe's porch, lost.
"I don't know what to do." It's whispered, silently and ashamedly. How dare he not know. How dare he be clueless and lost and hopeless.
"That's okay. I don't think this is something in your field of expertise, Ranpo. It's okay to not know." And Fukuzawa says it so assuredly, so confidently that Ranpo has no choice but to believe it.
He's always believed and trusted anything Fukuzawa said. He's never given him a reason not to.
"I don't think me talking to him will do any good. I'm a stranger to him, unfamiliar. You're the only one who can deal with this, unless there's another person? Like his parents?" Ranpo wants to claw his eyes out at the idea of another person caring for Poe. It's odd. Not something he's felt before.
"Out of the question. His biological parents are dead. He's cut contact with his adoptive ones. The only other person I can think of is Lucy. She's decently close with Poe, and they get along well. I've heard him talk about her before, but I don't think she knows how to handle this either. This is something he's kept to himself for a long time."
"I see. I think the best solution is to be patient. Wait for him to come to you. Give him space, let him gather his bearings. But don't leave the house. Let him know you're still there." Fukuzawa says it like it's easy, being patient.
Patience is not something Ranpo has. He's never been patient, he doesn't have the energy for something so tedious.
But this was about Poe. And everything was different when it came to Poe. And Ranpo loved it, he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Okay. I can– probably do that. Easy, right?” Not easy. But he wasn't about to give up, not on Poe. The only person who was able to get his blood pumping with that addictingly sweet adrenaline. “Just– if something goes wrong I'm blaming you.”
He jabs his pointer finger in Fukuzawas chest, and the man nods his head. “ You'll do fine, Ranpo.”
“I know I will. I'm the best detective in Japan.”
“That you are,” Fukuzawa smiled, “I'll be taking my leave, however if something truly does go wrong, call me.”
“Okay yeah, yeah. Now get outta here,” Ranpo waved his hand and pulled the door open, “Love you boss!”
“I love you too, Ranpo.”
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“Oh, what are you doing down here Karl? Hm?” Ranpo bends down onto the floor, running his hands across Karl's furr, “Sorry for making your dad mad, by the way. I didn't mean to, do you forgive me?”
Karl squeaks, and nibbles on his fingers in response.
“You hungry? Or are you biting me because I hurt your dads feelings?” He lets out a huff, pulling his hands away before standing up to his full height.
Okay. First things first, he needs to reassure Poe he isn't going to leave him alone like this, but also assure him he'll give him all the space he needs until he's ready to talk. Good, right? He hopes it works, and doesn't stress Poe even more.
With Karl following behind, he makes his way up Poe's frustratingly large staircase. It feels almost surreal walking to the bedroom door he knows belongs to Poe. This whole situation is new, and a little nerve racking. What if he does something wrong and it makes Poe upset, or worse makes the other hate him?
He isn't sure what he'd do if Poe hated him. He'd probably have to take a nose dive off a bridge or something. Jeeze, he's starting to sound like Dazai. How unfortunate, but at least he'll have someone to ask for advice if this goes down hill. He would know how to handle losing a partner– friend– whatever him and Nakahara were.
With a heavy sigh, he brings his very sweaty and shaking hand to Poe's door and knocks. No answer.
He decides to push it open, because he's worried and he's had one too many instances with Dazai trying to hang himself in the break room to not worry. And yes, Ranpo knows Dazai wasn't actually going to die but he worries, he's human too.
He opens the door and Karl scampers in, immediately going to the closet. A dead give away to where the guy was hiding. He just hoped he didn't hang himself or something– fuck. He isn't Dazai. This whole situation is really making him lose it, huh? What a shame.
Anxiously, he walks to the closet and knocks as softly as possible. It earns him a shuffle of clothes and a questioning noise.
“Eddie– uhm. I know you're mad at me, and stuff and I'm sorry if I did anything wrong. But I'm uh– I'm here, okay? I'm here for you if you need anything,” He lets out a sigh, rocking back and forth on his tiptoes, “And I hate to break it to you but after working with Dazai for the past two years it's nearly impossible for me to leave you alone like this.”
More shuffling, the closet creeking a bit from Poe moving around, before once again he's met with more silence. He waits for a minute, heart beating in his ears, and he feels like he's going to cry a little bit. It's been a long time since he's cried.
“Okay.. I'm sorry Ranpo,” a small muffled hiccup.
Fuck, not what he wanted. What is he doing wrong?
“It's okay– I'm not mad, y'know? I'm just worried about you. You're my– you're my friend. I just want you to be okay.” His mouth feels dry, and he swallows. “Just– come out when you're ready okay? I'll be downstairs.”
With that, he leaves. Karl doesn't follow, he stays sitting at the door of the closet which Ranpo is thankful for. He doesn't necessarily wanna leave Poe alone by himself up here, and he knows Karl will take care of him in his stead.
He reluctantly goes back down stairs, and stands at the end of the staircase rather cluelessly. What now? Just wait? What if Poe never comes back down? Unlikely. He sits on the last stair and puts his face in his hands, knee jumping up and down.
What does he do while he waits?
There's still dishes in the sink from their breakfast. He could totally do those. Does he want to? Is he really so desperate for a distraction he'll do dishes of all things? Absolutely.
He hops up off the step and goes straight to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves he heads toward the sink. There honestly aren't a lot of dishes in there, just the leftover plates and forks and bowl from the pancakes they had that morning.
The first thing he does is look at the dishwasher, he assumed Poe would have something like that in his home. Not a lot of people he knows own one– he honestly thinks it's unnecessary, but Poe's American so he won't comment on it. He checks to see if it's empty, before he realizes he doesn't know how to work a dishwasher. Looks like he'll do them by hand, then.
He turns the sink on, grabs the scrub brush, and begins his task with a vigor he could've never drudged up in a normal situation. Once he finishes, he sets the dishes onto the dryer rack that Poe has, even though he has a dishwasher as well, what is the point of that? Whatever, Ranpo won't question it.
With that done, he stands in the middle of the kitchen, in the same clueless position he was in before. Clueless. What now? He resists the urge to groan and whine.
He walks to the living room, and eyes the bookshelves. Curiously, he goes up to one and looks through the books there. Some authors he recognizes, some he doesn't. Most of the books are English, but there's a select few that are in Japanese or other various languages. Does Poe know other languages other than Japanese and English? He'll need to ask sometime.
He yoinks a book he hasn't read before, carefully caressing the cover. The book is in perfect condition, as well as the others around it. Not a single spec of dust on them.
It's like Poe goes through them all and cleans them regularly, which would surprise Ranpo.
Poe cares deeply for his books, and now that he looks around his whole house seems to be sparkly clean. Not a single crumb or any dust anywhere. He cares for his space, too. Honestly, he assumed that would be the case. Still, it's nice to see his prediction was right.
Now that he thinks about it, he wants to see what type of stuff Poe likes to read. He knows the other sticks to horror, and mystery type novels. Does he like anything else? He examines the cover of the book in his hands, it looks like a mystery novel.
Curious, he goes to Poe's couch and plops down.
He figures out who the killer is the first 5 pages in.
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He isn't sure how long he sits in the closet, but eventually he begins to regain feeling in his limbs, and comes back to his head fully. He can hear Karl make a squeak noise, and feel guilt pull at his chest. He takes another minute to calm down, before he pushes the closet door open.
He yelps as Karl jumps into his chest and begins to nuzzle into his chest and chin. He sighs, and digs his face into the fuzzy fur of his raccoon.
Poe feels lighter now that he has Karl in his arms, and sits there for a moment just holding him and petting the raccoon's tummy and back.
“I’m sorry Karl, did I worry you? I hope you can forgive me?..” He gets happy licks on his cheek in response, “I see, I'm glad you can forgive me Karl.”
He lets out a soft chuckle. With a heavy sigh he gets up and considers his options. Ranpo is waiting for him downstairs, but he feels all too embarrassed to face the other. He swallows and pets Karl. He doesn't really have a choice though, does he?
He owes it to Ranpo.
“Let us go see Ranpo, yes? I believe I owe him an apology.” He kisses the top of Karl's head, which earns him happy licks and chirps.
He leaves the safety of his room and slowly makes his way down the stairs. He glances around the room and his eyes land on Ranpo, who's comfortably sitting on his couch, reading a book. His neck heats up a bit, a tad embarrassed that Ranpo is reading one of the books he chose.
From the cover he can tell it's a book even he solved rather quickly, something far too simple and boring for Ranpo. How unfortunate.
He just stands there watching him for a bit, eyeing the way he turns the pages and his eyes skim across the pages, taking in every word.
He doesn't want to ruin Ranpo's peace. Would it be better if he just went back upstairs? Ranpo seems like he's having a good time, not bothered. Poe swallows, anxiety curling in his gut.
Just then, Karl begins to squeak and yelp at him. Digging his nose into his chin.
That seems to catch Ranpo's attention, and the detective lifts his head to look at Poe, who's frozen in the doorway.
He immediately puts the book down, but very carefully. Ranpo states for a moment before letting a calm look settle on his features.
“Hey, there you are! Are you– uhm– okay?”
Poe swallows and nods his head, palms becoming sweaty, “I– yeah. I'm alright, I'm sorry about earlier. It was very immature of me to blame you, you didn't deserve that. I'm sorry.”
Ranpo gets a pained look on his face for a moment, “I said it was okay, didn't I? You worry so much, it's okay. If I had an issue or was hurt I would've left. I'm not mad at you, Eddie.”
Poe's shoulders sag, and he feels a pressure he didn't know was there lift off his chest. His eyes water again but he doesn't have any tears left to cry, so instead he lets out a dry laugh.
“I suppose you're correct, Ranpo,” he covers his mouth with his hand, eyes crinkled as small giggles slip past his lips. “I'm still sorry.”
“I know. Do you want to sit next to me?” He sits up and pats the cushion next to him. Poe hesitates only for a moment, before popping down on the couch next to him.
“Do you wanna talk about it? Like– y'know. What happened?”
“You’re not that good at this, dearest Ranpo,” Poe teases, a grin pulling at his features, “And– I don't know. Maybe we can talk some other time. I'm just tired. Really, really tired.”
“Yeah, that's okay. We can just relax and watch a movie again if you want, but I'm pretty hungry..”
Poe sets Karl onto the cushion next to him, “Would you like me to cook something for you? Its okay right. You made me pancakes, so I should make you something in return.”
“You were like, really small, of course I made you breakfast. But.. if your offering I won't pass up a chance on a free meal!” He grins hopping up from the couch, with Poe following suit.
“Lets see, how about a.. hmmm.. cheese quesadilla? I honestly don't have a lot of stuff to make a big meal.. most of the time I eat out.” Poe admits, scratching his neck.
“I don't know what that is, but I'll try it! You have to make me something sweet too.”
“Yes, yes of course. Whatever you want dear.” Poe smiles, and rolls up his sleeves.
“I feel bad, you were just bawling your eyes out earlier and now you're making me early dinner.” Ranpo frowns a little bit, hopping from one foot to the other.
Poe gives him a look, sigh softly, “Don't worry, I'm.. better now. I just– was overwhelmed is all. I'm not– not used to people caring for me like that. And uh– it was embarrassing. Remembering how I acted. I'm still embarrassed. But you haven't said anything but positive stuff and–” a sigh slips past his lips, “I don't know.”
Ranpo's frown deepens, “I saif before that regressing is good for you, it's healthy. And I like taking care of you. You're a good kid.”
“You– you uh– think so?” Poe mumbles, spreading cheese across a tortilla.
“Yeah. All you really wanted was to be held and stuff– which isn't a problem for me. I might have to start working out thought..” Ranpo scratches his chin, and grin on his face. “Nah. I managed fine actually.”
Poe laughs, shaking his head, “Yes you did.”
“Trust me Eddie, I don't mind looking after you. It's not an issue with me. You can call me whenever you want, you know? I'm your friend.”
The writer mulls over the others words for a minute, heart beating in his ears. It's been a long time since he's had a friend– don't get him wrong, he loves the Guild. He loves Lucy. But well, they don't talk to him often now that they aren't in touch as much anymore. The only one he talks to regularly is Lucy, and sometimes he'll get a text or two from Francis, but other than that he's not had a friend since he was 19.
So this is new, someone being there for him. It's strange, and unfamiliar. But not unwelcome. Definitely not unwelcome.
“I think– I want to trust you. I do trust you. It's just hard for me to believe it, I suppose.” He puts his creation in a pan, “It’s– it's been a long time since I've trusted someone. Since someone has taken care of me.”
“you deserve to have someone there for you, you know.” Ranpo takes a seat at the table, playing with his fingers.
“Mhm. I guess so.” Poe mumbles under his breath.
“you don't believe me? That's okay. We can work on that! Hey, you should think about joining the agency.”
“We can– what? Joining the agency??” Poe spins around facing the other, his jaw hanging open slightly, “No– no. I mean, I'd like to! It's just, how could you offer me a job there after everything I did– after you saw me like– like that?..”
“Like what? Coping with your trauma and stress in a healthy way?”
Poe stares at him, mouth open before he sighs. A smile pulls at his cheeks, “I'd love to, but no. Thank you Ranpo, for the offer. But I have to decline.”
“Alright. When will early dinner be done? I'm hungry Eddie.” Ranpo pouts, head laying in his palm.
“Just a moment dear– it's almost done.”
Poe likes this. He thinks he can get used to it.