Work Text:
Chuuya was not the ideal person for this mission, but Dazai had to admit that in terms of ability to keep him from getting killed, Chuuya outranked everyone else.
Working with Chuuya now, as members of different organizations, was a strange feeling that Dazai sometimes allowed himself to think about and often didn’t want to think about. It kept becoming necessary for various reasons: Chuuya offered certain physical capabilities that the others didn’t, or Chuuya’s knowledge in certain things was different and sometimes better than those at the Agency.
As much as Dazai wanted to work with Kunikida right now, Chuuya could do everything from martial arts to deflecting bullets (sadly Kunikida, while an amazing martial artist, could not deflect bullets.) Part of him also didn’t want to deal with Kunikida witnessing just how far the government’s and Rat’s mistreatment of Ability users could go. Kunikida knew about Ability users being experimented on, but it was one thing to know and another thing to see it, and Kunikida had already seen so much this past year that Dazai wanted to spare him.
Chuuya wasn’t exactly a better choice because of his history with the government. He knew Chuuya wouldn’t like it, but Chuuya had seen things like this before. That, coupled with his physical capabilities and Ability made him the better choice even if he wasn’t the most ideal one.
They’d been dropped off about a mile away and were walking through the forest towards the well-hidden facility. There was a service road leading in and out that was barely noticeable, but they didn’t want to use that because they were more likely to be seen. Dazai was pretty sure cameras lined the area.
They would avoid the cameras for as long as possible.
Dazai noticed that Chuuya had been pretty quiet on the way there, not really rising to his taunts and only giving annoyed responses. He wondered if Chuuya was tired. Things were escalating to a point where no one really got to rest, so it made sense, and with Chuuya’s position in the Mafia being so high he was more likely to be overworked. Chuuya also overworked himself even when he didn’t need to.
Now Chuuya was still quiet, but that made sense since they were trying to not draw attention to themselves. Dazai thought there was something strange in the way he was walking but he didn’t pay too much attention to it. Paying attention to their surroundings was more important, and anything going on with Chuuya could be dealt with later.
Half an hour later they arrived at the edge of a clearing. Dazai scanned the building for guards. In theory, the building was supposed to be abandoned and they were there to look for any information left behind that could help them. In practice, it probably was mostly-abandoned but still guarded because there was likely information there that the Rats, for whatever reason, didn’t want to take with them. Even if there was no information on paper or in files, the layout of the facility itself and the various things in it could tell them something about what happened there.
Because he knew Chuuya would look after him, Dazai walked into the clearing without bothering to be subtle about it, and straight to the building’s front entrance. He heard Chuuya curse but ultimately, with the facility not heavily armed it was easier and would waste less time to just walk in via the front entrance.
The door was locked.
Dazai stepped aside to allow Chuuya to break the door, since the locking mechanism was probably something complicated. Once the door was pushed aside, Dazai was surprised to find that no alarm had gone off. That meant that they’d cut power to the whole building.
“Fuck,” Chuuya hissed. A gunshot rang out.
Chuuya disappeared from Dazai’s side in an instant. Dazai stayed where he was. Chuuya didn’t need him getting in the way and Dazai didn’t feel like fighting. He only needed an opening in the action to get further into the building.
Someone cried out and Dazai heard several thuds and gunshots before Chuuya reappeared in front of him, looking pale in the dark. “I’ll go ahead and clear the building. Don’t try any stupid shit.”
“I would never.” Dazai grinned. Chuuya gave him one final warning glare before heading off.
Dazai waited a few moments to follow. Something bothered him. Chuuya’s voice sounded strained. Chuuya’s face usually wasn’t that pale, or pale at all. Maybe it had to do with the place they were infiltrating, but Chuuya wasn’t one to allow his fear to show through until whatever he was afraid of was right in front of him, if at all. Chuuya may not have liked the idea of being in a facility like this, but he wouldn’t be that thrown off by what-ifs and he certainly wouldn’t be that shaken by just setting foot in the building when this area looked relatively normal.
Unless this was so different that Dazai’s normal observations were wrong, something else was at play.
He focused on his surroundings again, passing a few dead guards as he followed Chuuya’s path. No matter what was wrong with Chuuya, he was doing his job, which was the important thing.
Most of the rooms he passed were inconsequential. Storage rooms, offices, things which might have held information but looked cleared out already. The main area of concern was the lab. The storage rooms near the lab would have the most important things and the lab itself would probably offer a lot of information that could only have been withheld if the Rats had destroyed the building. That was a waste of a hugely valuable facility, though.
There were a few other rooms that looked like they were used for medical purposes. Dazai went through them and found some leftover syringes and IV bags. He noted what the labels were. Some were ordinary, like saline solution, and some contained other drugs that gave Dazai more of a sense of what had been going on. Idly, he wondered if the things he found here were reflective of things that had been done to Chuuya as a child.
If he was having those thoughts then Chuuya probably was as well. He continued on towards the main lab space, passing more bodies as he went. When he got there he saw Chuuya sitting in one of the chairs with a strange expression on his face.
“Good work,” Dazai said. “As expected of such a loyal dog.”
“Shut up.”
Both of their words held less bite than in the past. Dazai shifted his attention to the rest of the room, wondering if Chuuya had already looked through it. “Did you find anything?”
“The usual. Inhibitors, sedatives...lots of tools for invasive procedures.”
Dazai was finding those things too. It felt like…
“I think those bastards were focused on taking people apart to see what was inside,” Chuuya said, his voice emotionless.
“That seems to be right,” Dazai said. “What makes an Ability user an Ability user? And what can we do with them? They have an effect on the body but we don’t know what. The government sort of knows how to use artificial Abilities, but not the opposite...what makes certain people have Abilities...what would cause one to fade or be taken away...I mean inhibitors are one thing but they’re not permanent. Even my Ability isn’t permanent. Maybe they were trying a drug cocktail, or some kind of physical change...probably both.”
“Dazai…cut the shit and let’s go.”
“I’m shedding some light on what we’ve found,” Dazai said. It was important information to file away for later.
“Keep it to yourself,” Chuuya said.
He really did sound off. Dazai had what they needed anyway, having taken a few objects to analyze back at the Agency and having made his observations. “Chuuya is so mean.”
Chuuya made a dismissive noise. Dazai heard him stand up and then heard the scraping of the chair he’d been sitting on.
“Shit.”
Dazai turned around to see Chuuya leaning heavily against the chair, which had started to slide across the floor with his weight. He was straightening up now but Dazai could see his arms trembling...in fact Chuuya’s entire body seemed to be trembling.
It couldn’t be fear and Dazai hoped it wasn’t something in the facility. He felt fine. “Chuuya?”
“Damn it.” Chuuya sounded incredibly frustrated.
“Need help?” Dazai asked.
Chuuya cursed again and there was a moment of silence before he said something under his breath.
“What was that?” Dazai asked.
“I feel like shit,” Chuuya snapped.
Dazai crossed the room to get a better look at Chuuya. “Did you touch something? Did someone inject you?”
“No...I felt bad before I left and now I feel worse,” Chuuya said. His skin was still pale but his cheeks were flushed. Dazai reached out to touch his forehead and they both winced at the contact — Dazai because Chuuya felt really hot, and Chuuya probably because Dazai’s hand felt really cold.
“How unfortunate,” Dazai said. They were a long way from Yokohama. It didn’t matter, but if Chuuya was really sick and they ended up being followed, a fight would likely end badly. One of Dazai’s backup plans had been to stay in the nearby town in case one of them was injured to ensure they weren’t followed before they could safely travel without being ambushed.
It wasn’t a foolproof plan but it was better than taking the risk of traveling and getting attacked while Chuuya wasn’t able to fight properly. Dazai wondered how he’d held up for this mission at all — probably out of sheer determination. Now that the mission was over, the adrenaline had faded.
“We’ll stay in town.”
“Hah?”
“That was always part of my plan if something went wrong,” Dazai said. “I don’t want us to be followed and ambushed while traveling. We’ll know if we’re being watched if we stay because they wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to attack while we’re in an unsecure hotel room.”
“I don’t want to stay with you,” Chuuya said.
“You have no choice,” Dazai said. “Besides, Chuuya, it’ll be fun. A vacation, just you and me…” It was better than being in each other’s apartments, something which Dazai really, really wasn’t ready for. As it was this hotel idea was already starting to make him uncomfortable. And dealing with a sick Chuuya…
“Of course not,” Chuuya muttered. He took a shaky step forward and Dazai followed him.
Dazai couldn’t think of a time where he’d properly cared for Chuuya. Part of it was that Chuuya didn’t get sick often. He had a strong immune system and his worst problem was the period after Corruption, which Dazai tended to avoid both then and now. It was impossible to hide the after effects of Corruption from Dazai since Dazai was always there when he used it, but sickness was easier to hide. It probably didn’t happen often, but Dazai wondered how often it did and if Chuuya always tried to work through it. He wondered if anyone took care of him.
That last thought came because the last time he got sick, Kunikida burst into his apartment with tea and soup and even a warm blanket and it was overwhelming at first. Dazai wasn’t used to someone caring so much about his well being, but he found that he didn’t mind. As strange of an experience as it was, Dazai was grateful that he didn’t have to be completely miserable alone.
In the Mafia he would’ve been on his own, probably would have worked through it, and left to fend for himself if he wanted to make himself feel better somehow. He didn’t enjoy those moments. One time Chuuya noticed and tried to take care of him, but it ended in a fight. Oda visited him briefly another time to make sure he rested, but he wasn’t as thorough as Kunikida and didn’t stay as long.
They exited the building. The car they’d taken here was still probably by the service road. Dazai called to make sure it was there just in case and told the driver what he wanted to do. The walk would be hard. He could tell by how much Chuuya was dragging his feet and how off-balance he looked, but it was necessary.
They walked in silence save for Chuuya’s labored breathing. Dazai had never seen Chuuya so physically weak outside of Corruption and got the feeling that he wouldn’t last much longer.
Chuuya’s breath hitched and he stumbled against a tree.
Dazai stopped walking. “What’s wrong?”
“Feel like I’m gonna be sick,” Chuuya muttered.
Dazai hoped that Chuuya wouldn’t, although it would be better for it to happen here than in the car. Or Chuuya could hold off.
“We don’t have a long way to go.”
“My head is killing me.” Chuuya rested his head against the tree.
Dazai waited for a bit while Chuuya seemed to pull himself together. After a few minutes Chuuya straightened up and gestured forward.
They started walking again. Dazai wondered just how badly Chuuya’s head hurt and just how ill he felt. He supposed he’d find out when they got to the hotel, which was the only time Chuuya would probably feel like he could give into his sickness rather than trying to keep himself together.
Finally they reached the car and got in.
“Use your hat if you’re sick,” Dazai murmured.
Chuuya swatted at his arm. “Fuck off.”
Dazai smirked. Chuuya would never do such a thing.
It was a ten minute ride into town and another ten minutes of driving around while Dazai chose a hotel. Chuuya had curled up against the window, his eyes tightly shut. Once Dazai settled on a hotel they pulled up in front of it and Dazai got out. It took an extra moment for Chuuya to get out as well, looking completely disoriented.
“Come on,” Dazai said, offering his hand. Chuuya ignored it and went inside.
Dazai stopped him before he got to the front desk. “I’ll check in,” he said. “Sit over there. You look like you’re about to pass out.” He gestured to a group of chairs in the lobby.
Chuuya didn’t argue, surprisingly. He went over to the chairs and Dazai went to the front desk to ask for a room. A few minutes later he had a room for one night. He gestured for Chuuya to follow him to the elevators.
The elevator ride up to the room was tense. Chuuya really did look like he was going to pass out. Dazai felt a pang of something in his chest. He didn’t like this.
The elevator let them out on their floor and they headed to their room, which luckily wasn’t far away. Dazai let them in and Chuuya made a beeline for the bed, sitting on it and putting his head in his hands. His hat slipped off and fell on the floor.
Dazai closed the door and picked up the hat. When he looked around, he saw that the room was small, each bed big enough for a single person. There was a small desk with a pad of paper and an electric kettle on top, as well as a few foam cups and a phone to reach the lobby if necessary.
He shrugged his coat off and tossed it on the other bed, noticing that Chuuya still hadn’t moved. “Chuuya?”
Chuuya’s hands were pressed over his eyes, fingers tangled in his hair as if he wanted to pull it.
Dazai wondered if he had painkillers somewhere. Probably not, but it seemed like Chuuya needed them.
“I can go out and get some painkillers,” he said. It would be nice to have some fresh air as well, and if he was admitting it to himself this whole thing was making him feel uneasy and he needed to do something.
“I’ll be fine,” Chuuya mumbled.
“Keep telling yourself that, Chuuya.” Dazai turned around, not bothering to put on his coat again as he walked out.
There was a convenience store down the street. Dazai got a few snacks, some painkillers, and water. He wasn’t sure if there was anything else they’d need. He certainly wasn’t any kind of authority on taking care of other people, so it was hard to know. What would Chuuya even find comforting?
The thought startled him, that he was thinking about Chuuya’s comfort rather than just getting Chuuya to a point where his sickness wasn’t a liability. It stopped him in the middle of the store, and with the shock of the thought came yet another shock that he was upset at not knowing what would comfort Chuuya.
Food was probably out at this point. A drink though...there were a few teas. Dazai knew for a fact that Chuuya preferred coffee to tea, but coffee wasn’t the best idea right now, so he chose two packets of ginger tea (and an instant coffee packet for himself.) He was grateful for the electric kettle.
He dragged his feet getting back. He didn’t want to see Chuuya suffer and he definitely didn’t want to feel all the weird feelings that came with it. Maybe things would be fine, though. Chuuya had been holding up pretty well.
He was proven wrong as soon as he got into the hotel room. Chuuya wasn’t sitting on the bed, but Dazai could hear him being sick through the closed door of the bathroom. He winced at the sound and placed everything he’d gotten on the desk except for the painkillers. Steeling himself, he took the bottle of painkillers with him and slide open the bathroom door.
Chuuya’s eyes jerked up to Dazai’s face. Dazai saw a strange set of emotions cross his face — embarrassment, frustration, wariness, anxiety — before he managed to give Dazai a glare. The overall effect was weak considering Chuuya was shaking.
“I got painkillers,” Dazai said, shaking the bottle as he stepped into the bathroom. “And some other things. For whenever you’re feeling up to it.”
“Thanks,” Chuuya said. He looked away, running a hand through his hair as if to fix it and taking deep breaths.
Dazai realized suddenly what was going on. “You don’t need to try to look strong for me.”
Chuuya didn’t say anything. He was more tense now, clearly trying to not shake as much as well. “I’ll be fine,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Dazai said, “but you’re clearly not right now.” It occurred to him that Chuuya didn’t like appearing weak in front of anyone. This probably would have been the case even if he was working with someone other than Dazai. Weakness wasn’t allowed in the Mafia — Dazai had experienced that himself, but Chuuya always took on so much responsibility and cared about whether or not people could trust in him.
He didn’t want to show that weakness to anyone, not even Dazai. Especially not Dazai, who had already berated Chuuya for his other weaknesses back when they were partners. Dazai could understand now why and it left a bad taste in his mouth.
Chuuya had probably been fighting tooth and nail to not be sick the entire time Dazai was around, had probably hoped that the worst would be over by the time Dazai came back, or that it wouldn’t happen at all. That was in part because of who they’d been to each other before. Dazai would have felt the same way if the roles were reversed.
They had worked so well together, had functioned as a flawless team, excelled in every way that mattered to the Mafia, but they hadn’t been good partners.
It was harder to be a good partner. It was harder to have an emotional stake in Chuuya’s wellbeing for no other reason than it made him feel something bad to see Chuuya suffer. He could acknowledge it or ignore it, but he got the feeling if he ignored it that he’d just be disappointed in himself after, and the rift between him and Chuuya would stay the same or grow.
With a sigh, he sat down next to Chuuya.
Chuuya’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“You’re sick. I want to help.”
Chuuya stared at him. “You want to help? This is probably just a huge inconvenience to you.”
“I can’t deny that illness is an inconvenience to the mission,” Dazai said, “but I also don’t like seeing you sick. I also don’t like seeing you try to hide it.”
“You don’t like it,” Chuuya repeated.
“Nope.”
Chuuya groaned. Dazai noticed him trembling again and held out a hand.
“What?”
“You should lay down,” Dazai said. “You might feel better.”
Chuuya swallowed thickly and reached over to flush the toilet. Dazai helped him up, noticing that Chuuya’s balance was terrible. Together they walked to the bed and Chuuya collapsed on to it, curling up on his side and squeezing his eyes shut.
Dazai pulled the blanket over him and sat down on the bed. He wasn’t sure what to do next. Chuuya was still shaking and his breathing was still uneven. Through the blanket he could practically feel the heat radiating off Chuuya.
He didn’t know how long he sat there trying to figure out while to do while Chuuya tried to sleep, but he was pulled out of his thoughts by Chuuya lurching out of bed and falling to his knees in front of the toilet.
He started vomiting before Dazai managed to get into the bathroom, but Dazai came up behind him and pulled his hair out of the way. He didn’t like how Chuuya’s hair was damp with sweat, nor did he like how painful Chuuya’s retching sounded.
It continued like that, on and off, for a while before Dazai felt like there’d been enough of a lull that Chuuya could try the painkillers for his fever. Chuuya was slumped over the toilet, his face pinched with pain, and Dazai didn’t want him to keep suffering like that, so he opened the bottle and fished two painkillers, then filled a cup with water before kneeling in front of Chuuya. “You should take these.”
Chuuya looked up at him with glassy eyes before lifting his head and taking the painkillers from Dazai. He swallowed them quickly and sipped on the water afterwards, and they both waited to see if they would stay down.
After some time Chuuya pushed himself up. “Thank you,” he said quietly. His voice was hoarse and he looked like he was going to fall over, but he wasn’t shaking as much.
Dazai nodded and helped him to the bed. Chuuya curled up again and let Dazai put the blanket over him.
Then Dazai decided to try something new. He began running his fingers through Chuuya’s hair.
“What are you doing?” Chuuya murmured.
“Is it uncomfortable?” Dazai asked.
“No.”
“Then I’ll keep doing it.”
They were both quiet, but Dazai could tell Chuuya hadn’t fallen asleep. Another question occurred to Dazai, one that he thought he might as well take care of while he was taking care of Chuuya.
“Chuuya, with the stuff we found in the facility...are you okay?”
Chuuya tensed and then sighed. “Being sick...is kind of a good distraction.”
“It seems like an awful distraction,” Dazai said. “A gross one.”
“It’s better than thinking about being cut open and having every inch of you examined,” Chuuya said.
Dazai frowned. “You’re still thinking about it, though.”
“It’s a persistent shitty thought.”
Dazai continued threading his fingers through Chuuya’s hair, wondering how persistent. He knew Chuuya was thinking of it as something he’d very likely experienced or would experience, but to what extent he didn’t know. He didn’t know if it was just for this mission or if he thought about it all the time and this was just another reminder. Chuuya didn’t like to talk about it, so it was something significant for him to answer Dazai at all.
In the face of that, Dazai didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t good at comfort yet. It was still too much of a foreign concept.
“Don’t think too hard about it, Dazai,” Chuuya said quietly. He sounded half-asleep. Ordinarily Dazai would have tried to dismiss the thought but it stuck around as something they should talk about, as something Chuuya probably needed to talk about because he never talked about it. But the both of them probably weren’t ready for that conversation.
When Dazai pulled himself out of his thoughts, he realized Chuuya was asleep.
If Chuuya stayed this way or got better they could travel tomorrow and call the mission a success since no one had come after them. Another mission completed.
And then what? Dazai was still running his fingers through Chuuya’s hair. Chuuya had trusted him enough to fall asleep like that. These were things that wouldn’t make the mission report and they probably wouldn’t talk about them after they got home.
They’d still be thinking about it, though. Dazai knew that Chuuya was the sort of person who didn’t just forget these kind of things or let go of them, and there was a strange feeling Dazai had that he wouldn’t be able to either. There were so many things they could talk about, could try, could acknowledge, but at the same time they both weren’t ready.
This time they probably wouldn’t talk about it in the morning. Next time it might be different, if they got a next time. Dazai stayed awake, running his fingers through Chuuya’s hair for a little while longer, allowing them both a closeness they never really had for just a few more hours until it was time to wake up.